Back in Berkeley

Everything old is new again. A vintage menu that proves the point. Amazing matzos. A recipe to welcome spring. And a taste of Philadelphia.

I was in Philadelphia this week, at The Chef Conference, where hospitality professionals come to talk about important issues in the restaurant industry. It’s a truly great event, and if you work in restaurants you should check it out next year. I was particularly riveted by Kitchen Culture Clashes, moderated by Kim Severson in which panelists Marco Canora, Nina Compton, Charlie Mitchell and Karyn Tomlinson grappled with evolving expectations in both the front and back of the house.

I loved listening to Phil Rosenthal (Somebody Feed Phil) talk with Jeff Gordinier about how he got his show off the ground. The discussion was both poignant and hilarious, and it made me go back rewatch the show.

When it was my turn I found myself reminiscing about my Berkeley days. Here’s a piece I wrote soon after Fourth Street Grill opened in 1979, but it reminds me, in many ways, of what is happening today.

That’s Mark Miller in his chef’s whites in the photo above. He opened Fourth Street Grill in 1979, and would, of course, ultimately decamp to Santa Fe to open Coyote Cafe in 1987, celebrating the food of the Southwest.

He’d clearly been thinking about adding some spice to his food long before he made the move, as this special Fourth Street Grill menu proves. Even today, more than forty years later, this menu strikes me as totally modern

It’s starting to be ramp season….

Ramps are the first green vegetable to emerge from the ground each year, nudging aside dried layers of last fall’s leaves. When they appear, the first swatch of green in a relentlessly brown landscape, the mere sight of them always makes me happy. 

Last year, walking in the woods, I literally fell into a patch of ramps. All at once I saw them everywhere, whole clusters dotting the slope of the hill. I pulled out my penknife and dug little moats around each bulb, willing them to pop off their roots. (It's important to leave the roots behind so  the ramps return next year.) Before I knew it, I had gathered dinner. 

But what to do with them? Standing in the kitchen, washing ramps,  I considered the usual suspects. Pasta. Pizza. Pesto. For an extremely versatile vegetable, ramps are too often relegated to the same old recipes. Then I remembered the first time I ever tasted ramps.  It was in the Ozarks, in the seventies; we ate them simply fried in bacon fat until they had caramelized into something surprisingly decadent. That! I thought. I'll make that. 

I used guanciale instead of bacon. Then I added a couple of fried eggs and a thick slab of toast.  It made a  lovely- and almost free - dinner for two. 

Ramps with Guanciale Lardons 
1/2 pound ramps, cleaned
Dash olive oil
1-2 ounces guanciale 
Salt and pepper to taste 
2 eggs 

Clean the ramps well, trimming off the parts that cling tenaciously to the dirt they grew in. If yours have roots, remove them. Separate the bulbs from the leaves. 

Slice the guanciale into thin pieces, no larger than a fingernail. Heat a pan over medium-low heat, add a splash of olive oil and toss in the guanciale. The goal is to render the fat from the jowl evenly without allowing it to crisp or brown; what you want is the rich nutty flavor of the pork without the taste of char. If you sense your guanciale is beginning to brown, cool the pan with a splash of water. It should take about 6 minutes to render the fat, moving it about the pan from time to time. 

Remove the guanciale from the pan, leaving a teaspoon or so of that delicious fat behind. Turn up the heat and add the ramp bulbs. When they become translucent, in a minute or so, add the leaves. Let them dance about the pan a bit, and just before everything begins to wilt, remove the ramps to two plates, making a little nest of each portion. 

Add a bit more fat and fry two eggs in the same pan. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and gently place an egg on each ramp nest. 

Savor this slowly, knowing that this is a fleeting flavor. Ramps will soon be gone, and they won't return  until next spring.

If you ask me to name my favorite foods, crisp matzos with cold sweet butter would be near the top of the list. It’s one of my most cherished midnight snacks.

But that was before I tasted the Passover matzos they’re making at Ci Siamo. This is matzo as you’ve never had it before - crisp, rich, salty, bubbly. I stood in the kitchen slowly breaking off one little shard after another until the entire box was gone. (They come with ramp butter, but it’s not even necessary.)

If you live in New York and know a matzo maven, you couldn’t come up with a happier gift.

Here’s an astonishing statistic: according to one knowledgeable person at The Chef Conference, Philadelphia has more restaurants per capita than any other city in the country. Even more astonishing: according to my own limited experience, the restaurants are stunningly good. Here are two of my favorite bites.

I loved every single dish I tried at My Loup but this Green Garlic Esca-rol, a gloriously messy take on classic French snails wrapped into a savory biscuit dough, amazed me. Who could possibly imagine making snails into a sort of savory cinnamon bun? Brilliant idea.

And this Turkish Hummus at Dizengoff, which resembled no hummus I’ve had before. Sizzling hot, it arrives emitting wafts of brown butter and urfa peppers. The aroma is enticing, the texture absolutely astonishing in its soft velvety smoothness. I literally couldn’t stop eating it.

Book tour information and tickets here.