Apples and oysters: The Harvest Review

Um, why did nobody tell me about Harvest's monthly dinner series? Seriously, don't pretend to be interested in my blogroll all of a sudden; look at me. I want answers!

Turns out Harvest in Harvard Square presents a dinner once a month called The Harvest Review. Each dinner is based around a theme: food, mostly (I'm guessing, as no one told me), though chef Mary Dumont did mention a Bob Slate-themed event that somehow involved, yes, pens, ink and paper.

Did I mention that's it's four courses with wine?

Did I mention that it's $39 a person??

So, to recap: A unique meal. At one of the best restaurants in Cambridge. For FORTY BUCKS.

See why I'm miffed to have missed out?

When I heard about January's dinner, I may have squeaked a little: a menu of apples and oysters, hosted by two authors I like: Erin Byers Murray, whose Shucked describes her year working at Island Creek Oysters; and Amy Traverso, whose The Apple Lover's Cookbook makes me want to lick the pages.

So, yeah. We were going.

I'd assumed the event would take over the whole of Harvest; instead, it was in the smaller, separate dining room, with seating for about 40 people. Which meant the kitchen was turning out two separate menus — one for us, one for the main restaurant — and ours had to be coordinated so that everyone was served at the same time. That takes skill.

The dinner was supposed to start at 6pm, but because they were doing synchronized service, we had to wait until the last stragglers showed up. (And that is why you should always be on time, people!)

But it was okay, really, because we were able to quell our hunger with finger sandwiches of cheddar, apple and whole-grain mustard, grilled in butter. Very simple, very sinful.



Once everyone had arrived, Chef Dumont gave a brief introduction, and then both Amy and Erin talked about their books. I felt quite envious, as I always do around people who get to write about food for a living.

And then we began. First, Island Creek oysters two ways: raw, with quick bread-and-butter apple pickles from Amy's book, and pan-fried with a piment d'Espelette sauce.





The first was briny, chilled, with the pickled apple providing just an edge of vinegary sweetness. The second was warm, a little oily, with a slight crunch from the breading, the sauce adding a creamy smokiness. They were almost each other's opposite; I could almost imagine one with wings and a harp, and the other with little horns. Good and evil, both delicious.

Next up, oyster stew, creamy and fragrant with fennel and Pernod. The stew itself was great, but what made the dish, for me, was the squid-ink tagliatelle, deeply flavored but light as a feather, and the single slice of pancetta so thin you could see through it. For real, check it out:





For the third course, we moved back to apples, which came braised with cabbage with a hint of caraway. There might have been something else on the plate ...



Well, hello there ...

That would be the pork shoulder sausage, almost boudin blanc-like in texture, dense and delicious.



We were pretty full by this point. Too full for dessert? Ha! Especially not this: warm apple brownies with caramel ice cream and walnut brittle. A perfect end to the meal.





What do you mean, there's more? Apple donuts, you say? Served warm, coated with sugar? Well, all right, if they're small. Just a couple. After all, apples are good for you.



At the end of the dinner, Erin and Amy stuck around to chat and sign copies of their work, so I'm now the proud owner of both books. Perfect reading (and experimenting) for chilly winter days.

And because I'm nice, I'll mention that upcoming Harvest Review dinners highlight local businesses that work with Harvest: Taza Chocolate (February 15), Hearth Wood-Fired Bread (March 14), and Espresso Express coffee (April 11).

You're welcome.

Ten reasons I love Island Creek Oyster Bar

1) Two of the people I most trust to look after me in a restaurant — Tom S-G and the lovely Bobby — are there.



2) The room is light and open, with tall windows and weathered wood and a whole wall of oysters. It makes me think of winter on Cape Cod, but in a good way.







3) The warming, spicy Spanish Caravan cocktail is finished with a slice of dried, salted apple:



4) The creamy oyster stew with smoky ham sits on a bed of dense brown bread to soak it all up.



5) The burger, which LC Sarah has pronounced better than Eastern Standard's (!). This may have something to do with the brioche bun topped with caramelized onions.



6) The smelts, while they're here.



7) The oysters Gregory, with leeks, bacon and parmesan.



8) Someone's nice penmanship.



9) The fried cod cheeks with a bright green-tomato relish.



10) The! Cider! Donuts! With! Hot cider! And! Caramel! For dipping!

What we ate in San Francisco

This morning we got back from a real actual vacation.

It's hard to believe that this time yesterday we were on the West Coast, finishing up a week of eating and sightseeing and hearing about the powerful warm weather back home (the temperature barely hit 70 the whole time we were in California).

I have to write it all down as much for my own purposes (failing memory and all) as to share adventures in eating (which included food trucks, street food and Chez Panisse; some of these most definitely earn a post of their own).

So here's a rundown of some of the things we ate in San Francisco.

From Far West Funghi in the Ferry Building market, a truffle macaron (because they were all out of porcini). It was an intriguing (in a good way) balance of desserty sweetness with truffle's dark earthiness.



We also checked out the Cowgirl Creamery location and drooled over cheeses (they had a few of the New England types we tried at ONCE Cheese).



And we picked up a snack pack to go: Bellwether Farms Crescenza with marinated olives and sesame crackers, as close to butter as you can get while still being cheese.



We also wandered into the Mission, where we did a little pirate-goods shopping at 826 Valencia and then had lunch at Regalito Rosticeria.

The fresh guacamole comes with warm, whole, crispy tortillas.



The cochinita pibil was smoky, warm-spicy, slow-cooked and topped with pickled red onion.



The food was not unlike the style of Mexican found here, except. Except. The cheese was queso fresco, the tortillas tasted like corn, the salsa verde was made with fresh tomatillos and the tomatoes were full of flavor.

We had drinks at the Rickhouse, which is a lot like Drink or Eastern Standard in that the bartenders have encyclopedic cocktail knowledge. It's a lovely space. Note the jars of fresh garnish.







At Wexler's we had scotch eggs with runny yolks. That blew my mind-grapes.



And then there was our visit to the Fillmore Jazz Fest on July 4th, which meant we got to try all kinds of fun stuff, including pupusas stuffed with pork, tomato and avocado:



Fresh, warm beignets, loaded with powdered sugar:



And the two best discoveries: Spam musubi, a work of Hawai'ian genius involving Spam and rice wrapped in seaweed:



And BBQ oysters (shucked, grilled, and basted with garlic butter)



What a country!

Eating our way through NYC: Part two

So, to recap: we've had Cuban sandwiches, French bistro food, and what the New York Times describes as a "high church of reverently prepared fish."

Where next?

Answer: The Morgan Library, first to check out the building (by Charles McKim and Renzo Piano), and then the holdings (manuscripts by Mark Twain, Alexander Pope, Galileo, Mozart; silver cups from first-century Rome; three, count 'em, three Gutenberg Bibles).

And then the cafe, with its oversized, horseradishy deviled eggs:



and its three-martini lunch.



Then we wandered down Broadway so I could check out the first US branch of Top Shop (verdict: cheaply made and overpriced. Much worse than the US H&M. Or perhaps I just have to accept that I haven't been in Toppo Shoppo's target demographic for, ahem, 20 years).

And then it was time to eat again, so we scooted over to A Salt and Battery, discovered that it was full to bursting (which I guess is a good thing) and repaired next door to Tea & Sympathy.

It was the first time we'd managed to get in; the place only has room for ten tables, and would frankly be more comfortable if they took a couple out. It's so small that people waiting for a table have to stand outside (not fun on a freezing January day).

On the other hand, there's a lovely selection of sponge cakes on the counter, a gregarious Bet Lynch-like manager, and a menu of bangers and mash, scotch egg and sausage roll.

It's definitely a niche, and seemingly populated by young female American Anglophiles, and so they can get away with charging (get this) $5.95 for Heinz tomato soup (yes, from a can) and $7.50 for a cheese and pickle sarnie. But it was also the rare chance for me to get my fix, so I didn't care.

We got tea, which came in mismatched china (oh, how quaint!)



And then I ordered a bacon butty (which was good — ah, proper bacon! — but could have done with a couple of slices of fried tomato to add moisture) and The Boy went for the Cornish pasty.



And that's when I realized we'd have to come back.



The meat was perfectly seasoned, deep and rich and full of flavor. There were recognizable chunks of veggies. And jus. It was one of the best Cornish pasties I'd ever tasted.

For our last meal of the visit, we went to eat oysters in the basement of a train station. (I know, it sounds a lot like getting sushi from a gas station.)

The Oyster Bar is a cavernous space just off the dining concourse underneath Grand Central. One section is laid out with long, diner-like counter seating, and the rest is ... this:



It turns out the architect, Rafael Guastavino, patented a method of creating vaulted spaces using interlocking terracotta tiles.



And his first work in the US? The Boston Public Library, for McKim, Mead and White. There. You learned something.

But we weren't there to improve our minds; we were there to consume bivalves. Luckily, the Oyster Bar has one or two choices.



We settled on four: the Bras d'Or, the Chincoteague, and two locals: Oyster Ponds and Westhampton. It was fascinating to taste the differences that location makes to the same animal. The first, from colder waters, was small and briny; the second, from warmer Virginia, was long and salty. The Oyster Ponds had an iron-ish tang, while the other Long Island type was surprisingly sweet.



It was only fitting to have champagne and toast the end of another fabulously food-filled trip.

And then we caught the train back home.