Have you ever eaten reindeer penis? Rene Redzepi thinks you should.
I spent part of yesterday talking fermentation with Rene Redzepi and Jason White of Copenhagen’s Noma restaurant. (I took the pictures above when I was there in October.) I’ve never been a kombucha kind of person, but by the time we were done I was ready to start fermenting things and create my own scoby.
Listening to these fermentation evangelists you begin to understand why fermenting has such an important future in our food lives. It’s good for you and good for the planet. The minute our conversation was over I started slicing up tomatoes, mixing them with 2% salt, and leaving them to do their thing. I can’t wait for the results. I also ordered The Noma Guide to Fermentation.
The reindeer penis? Noma is launching a line of ferments, and one of their latest experiments is a garum made of that normally discarded body part. “We’re trying to figure out ways to use every piece of the animals we serve,” the chefs explained.
Which reminded me that I actually ate reindeer penis the last time I was at Noma. It was mixed with caviar. It was delicious.
Given my love for lemons, it should come as no surprise that I’m extremely partial to vinegar. I believe a little bit of acid makes almost everything taste better, and I have at least a dozen different kinds of vinegar in my cupboard. But these days this sour cherry vinegar is what I keep reaching for. It worked wonders in the Thanksgiving gravy, adding a lovely sweet and sour note. And I find the flavor so sneakily delicious that I often add a splash of water and drink it like a shrub.
The Brooklyn-based company is best-known for celery vinegar, but Tart Vinegars come in a wide wardrobe of tangy flavors. Sadly, their delicious kombu vinegar - which adds a deep vegetable funk to everything it comes in contact with - is out of stock right now, but if you’re in the market for a delicate rose vinegar, you’re in luck.
These vinegars are made with organic ingredients, painstakingly fermented and lovingly aged. The result are vinegars that do more than simply add acid to your foods: they impart a deep umami punch that makes your food sing.
When I first started writing restaurant reviews I thought hard about what a restaurant critic might do for her audience. I knew that I wanted to offer more than boilerplate consumer reviews that told you that this dish had too much salt, that one was overcooked and the waiters were rude. I wanted to paint a picture of each restaurant, give people reasons — beyond the menu — why they might want to go there.
This early review from New West has always been one of my favorites. I especially like the last little vignette: I gave my parents pseudonyms, but they were with me when I ate at Julius’ Castle.
Bay Wolf was an iconic Oakland restaurant that opened in 1975 and had a triumphant forty year run. Michael Wild’s restaurant was often compared to Chez Panisse, serving French-inflected food that was extremely sophisticated and affordable. Look at these prices!
But the reason I wanted to share this menu - other than that it dates from around the same time as the review above - is the little note about Darryl Henriques being guest maitre d’ on Valentine’s Day. The actor and comedian, who had worked at the Cheese Board Collective was incredibly funny. Wish I’d been there!
I just wanted to let you know how much I've been enjoying this newsletter.
Reading Tender at the Bone in the late 90's sprouted a seed planted years before by other mentors.
A baker's dozen years later, we met at a winery event in Santa Rosa. I had just moved to Japan and had left my day job as a marketing exec to pursue food blogging. It was a tumultuous time, but your words of encouragement helped me put aside any doubt about my choices.
A decade later, change is in the air again, and these dispatches are precisely what I need in this moment of existential uncertainty. Thank you for the comfort and ongoing inspiration!
The first story touched me, as a young queer person with trepidation re: coming out to my family. An occasion like this without a blowup, back when my parents were newlyweds, is so reassuring.