John Curtas is …

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The Bocuse D’Or 2017 is Calling ELV

http://finedininglovers.cdn.crosscast-system.com/BlogPost/l_12831_Winners-Bocuse-d-Or-Budagpest.jpg(Denmark took the top prize in ’15)

Like a sailor to the sound of sirens, a moth to a flame, or an inveterate Francophile to a slice of jambon persillé:

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….ELV hears the call of the Bocuse d’Or to him every other year. Ten years ago — before social media, before this blog, before the crash of the economy, and before he added 15 pounds to his waistline —  he attended the event. At the time, ELV vowed to return, only to have the Great Recession put a damper on his plans.

Now we’re going back — leaving Las Vegas today, in fact — to see the 30th anniversary of world’s greatest cooking competition in person.

If you don’t know what all the shouting is about, the video below will give you a taste of what it entails. Two-man teams from countries compete to invent and cook the best dishes they can based upon two pre-determined ingredients — or the “imposed main product” as they’re referred to in the competiton. This year’s ingredients — Bresse chicken and shellfish — are very very French (imagine that?) — and challenge the chefs to riff on the classic Lyonnaise recipe for chicken with crayfish.

In addition, there is a new challenge this year: the chefs must present a creation that is 100% vegetal.   They have 5 hours and 35 minutes (not a second more) to cook, plate and present large platters of their creations:

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…to a lineup of the most famous French chefs in the world. When these top toques parade in to take their seats at the judging table:

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….you can feel sphincters tighten all over the auditorium.

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It’s really something to behold (the cooking, the crowds and the competition, not the sphincter-tightening), and the video below (from day one of the competition from two years ago), will give you a good idea of the intensity involved.

The competition takes place on January 24-25 in Lyon, and we will be there with a front row seat

So, au revoir for now, and follow us on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook to chart both the event and our culinary adventures in France (and Germany and Switzerland), over the next ten days.

We’ll see you back on this site in a couple of weeks, full of French food and savoir faire!

Vive La France!

Ciao Bella!

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Ed. note: ELV – that notorious nosher of noodles, inveterate investigator of ingestion, and lover of all things Latin — will be out of the country for the next week re-calibrating his pasta palate. Three guesses as to the city he will be visiting…and the first two don’t count.

To say we are a tad bored with the Las Vegas food scene these days is an understatement. (Perhaps it’s a post-coital-like letdown after the recent publication of our book. (And by post-coital letdown we mean Anita Ekberg.)  Or maybe it’s just that we’ve eaten in every Las Vegas restaurant worth eating in so many times (see graphic to your immediate left) , there seems to be little point in revisiting any of them, unless there’s either a seasonal menu change, or a new chef.

Sadly, even seasonal menu changes fail to excite us, because usually only about 10% of the menu gets changed…because that’s the way the bean counters like it.

FWIW: The new Lucky Dragon Hotel and Casino does offer some respite from the tedium of our corporate/convention dining rooms. It may be tiny (203 rooms, 3 restaurants), but the F&B program is the real deal — bring superb dim sum and that wonderful gongfu tea ceremony to a niche casino that fills a niche in our need to eat legitimate Chinese food closer to the ELV palatial manse.

We will be reporting in depth on that dim sum (and the other food venues at Lucky Dragon, once we return.

In the meantime….

Arrivederci to our loyal readers (for the next week or so), and buon appetito to all. (We will resume our weekly postings on December 20.)

As usual, if you want to follow our travels, please join us on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.

 

Texas ‘Cue Quest – Part 3

(Smoked meat the way it’s supposed to be, at Snow’s)

Barbecue is the great equalizer. It’s the only American food that inspires $70,000 cars to line up next to $700 trucks to get the good stuff.

It is also the only food that can inspire yours truly to hit the road at 7:00 am to make a one hour drive to a speck of a town called Lexington, Texas to have barbecue for breakfast.

Even after making that bleary-eyed trek through foggy, central Texas flatlands at that ungodly hour, we were still late to the party:

 

 ….a party that commences but once a week, at 8 in the morning, at Snow’s.

That party goes on until the meat runs out (pretty darn fast, i.e. usually around noon) so arriving early is a must. Ever since both Texas Monthly and Calvin Trillin proclaimed it the best Texas barbecue in the world (in 2008), Snow’s has been the place to get Central Texas ‘cue. And even after being challenged by urban upstart Franklin’s, its ranking (now #4 according to @TMBBQ‘s  every-four-year survey), keeps it one of the toughest tickets in Tejas. Not bad for a joint that’s open for only four hours a week, and has only been open since 2003.

Was the cue worth the drive? And the wait? And the experience of it all?

Well, we’d have to say, yes, yes and really yes. The holy grail of barbecue is brisket, and Snow’s obviously calls on a higher power to achieve a heavenly bark and out-of-this-world succulence. The ribs (pictured at the top of the page) were so smokey they should’ve come with a FDA warning, and the loose-packed, wrinkled-skin, jalapeno sausages also stopped us in our tracks:

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As good as the food is, it’s the experience of standing in line at Snow’s that’s a once-in-a-lifetime event for ‘cue connoisseurs who don’t live in Texas. You’re there with folks just like yourself, folks who’ve driven quite a distance just to bathe in the smoke and bask in the food. The excitement in the air is as palpable as snap of those sausages. Even before we ate, we were asking our self if the food could possibly live up to the hype, and for the most part it did. (Only the dry, uninspiring pork steak, that we were told was THE thing to get, disappointed.)

Regarding those folks, you can tell that pretty much every one of them is either a dedicated barbecue hound (or stuck with someone who is), and waiting for forty-five minutes is a small price to pay for food this good.

Speaking of hounds, if there’s a first among equals among Texas ‘cue mavens, it would be Daniel Vaughn. As barbecue editor of Texas Monthly, he spends most of his waking hours thinking and writing about Texas barbecue, and as luck would have it, he was stationed in line at Snow’s right in front of us.  (For people who don’t live in Texas that last sentence raises a number of questions, such as: There is such a thing as a “barbecue editor”? Can a writer write about nothing but barbecue? Does a writer actually make a living writing about nothing but barbecue? And assuming all of those things to be true, why would Daniel Vaughn be a Snow’s at 8 am on a Saturday morning with his two kids?)

The answers are: yes, apparently yes in Texas, absolutely yes in Texas, and apparently he was on a busman’s holiday. As you can see from his Twitter feed, Daniel Vaughn loves barbecue like a Kardashian loves cameras.

(Son, there are three important things in life: family, friends, and fatty brisket)

45 minutes also goes very quickly when you’re chewing the fat with someone like Vaughn, and in between him stopping to do star turns with 80-something pitmistress Miss Tootise, we got to ask him a few questions. First of all, we wanted to know what made Franklin’s so of-the-moment, and he had a ready answer: “Aaron (Franklin) brought Central Texas barbecue to the big city, and his biggest contribution was making it consistent. When you go there you always know you’re going to get an excellent brisket that’s as good as the last time you were there,” he said. We also agreed that the rise of social media had a lot to do with the Franklin phenomenon (“FOMO -fear of missing out,” he called it), and that San Francisco is to barbecue what Tony Bennett is to line dancing.

We finished at Snow’s around 9:30 and needed to reset our digestive systems for our next conquest. And the 40 minute drive over to Louie Mueller – family owned and operated since 1949 — was the perfect respite before our second bbq breakfast.

Like Smitty’s the day before, Louie Mueller looks like a dump. But inside it is actually quite pleasant, in a 1950s time warp sort of way. You order at a counter, and joke around with the staff if you get there before the lines form, but form they will, especially after 11:00 am.

LM consistently ranks in the top 5  joints in the state for good reason: it’s fantastic. More of a polished operation than Smitty’s or Snow’s, it’s every bit their equal when it comes to top quality ‘cue.

 Damnation…what a sandwich! Crusty, smoky and moist, it pulled apart with barely a nudge, and needed only a smidge of stewed onions on top (and a raw one with pickles on the bottom) to accentuate its beefiness. If ever there was a piece of brisket that didn’t need barbecue sauce, this was it. Eat your heart out, Kreuz.

There was plenty to love about everything at Louie Mueller (their jalapeno barbecue sauce was the best of the trip) and if I had to pick a single barbecue restaurant to eat in for the rest of my days, this would probably be it.

Man does not live by barbecue alone, of course, so we took off after Mueller for a side trip through the Texas Hill Country (beautiful) to the charming town of Fredericksburg. Aside from checking out the National Museum of the Pacific War, we didn’t spend a lot of time there, but it was quite a bit larger than we expected, and a genuine destination in its own right, teeming with galleries, shops, restaurants and wine bars. In some ways, it reminded me of downtown Nantucket, minus the ocean, the boats, the cobblestones, and the seafood. Nantucket in the middle of Texas? Who knew?

Culture can only sustain you for so long, so soon enough, back to barbecue hunting we were. And by “barbecue hunting” I mean it was time to hit Austin, and see what the city slickers were up to.

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Micklethwait Craft Meats doesn’t look like a citified operation — it being nothing more than a barrel smoker and a trailer in a parking lot. As with Franklin’s (its competition down the street), the line forms early. Unlike Franklin’s (which has gotten the whole Anthony Bourdain/Jon Favreau treatment), the line is manageable. In our case we got there right when it opened, and as with Snow’s, it took us about 40 minutes to get our plate of grub.

And what a plate it was: wonderful poppy seed slaw, first rate pinto beans, ribs, brisket and sausage that were all stellar.

(Even the house-made pickle was impressed)
“It’s more chef-y than many other barbecue joints,” one of our Texas ‘cue confidants had told us. And so it was. And so was everything from the peppery bbq sauce to that pecan pie that was worth the wait all by itself. But what really stood hoof and shoulders above the other cuts was the kielbasa — a sausage of uncommon pork, beef, spice, cure and peppery compaction:
It was the sausage of the trip, and a beautiful expression of how a thoughtful chef can hew to tradition and still improve upon it.

About the only disappointment at Micklethwait was the pulled pork — it being mushy, poorly-pulled and bland. Word to the wise: When you want a pulled pork sandwich in Texas, head to the Carolinas.

There were no disappointments at our final stop, however.

Everything was just about perfect at Freedmen’s. The service was fast (it’s more of a sit-down restaurant), the food came quick (but was obviously sliced to order), and they were playing old 60s rock instead of one gawdawful Willie Nelson tune after another. It describes itself as a laid back lounge and beer garden serving barbecue and retro-inspired cocktails, and that about sums it up. We didn’t partake of any libations, but the bar looked serious. The ‘cue (pictured above) took a backseat to none of our previous six places, and the ribs might’ve been the best overall for pure, sweet-smoked porkiness. (If they’re not the best, they’re a close second to Louie Mueller.) Freedmen’s even smokes their banana pudding here. How smoky-cool is that?

The trouble with eating great barbecue (or great anything for that matter), is that it spoils you for anything else.  Smoked meat is a tradition in Central Texas. It’s a tradition that has morphed into a secular religion, in part because  so many people want to worship at the altar of artisanal foods, made by dedicated craftsmen, that respects the ingredient, the process and the history of what is being served. (Part of the resurgent popularity, no doubt, is the price. It’s something of a miracle that $30 gets two people a mountain of food at any of these places.)

If three days of ‘cue immersion taught me one thing it’s that it’s impossible to make barbecue this good — whether you’re in Los Angles or Long Island — unless you respect and learn from the traditions that made it great. Austin’s young guns are doing this. Would that other barbecue restaurants in America would try to as well.

The meats:

Best pork ribs – Louie Mueller; Runner up – Freedmen’s

Best brisket – Snow’s; Runner up – Louie Mueller

Best sausage – Micklethwait Craft Meats; Runner up (tie) – Kreuz and Snow’s

Best beef ribs – Black’s

Best sandwich – Brisket at Louie Mueller

The sides:

Best slaw – Micklethwait Craft Meats

Best pie – Micklethwait Craft Meats’ pecan pie

Best pudding – Smoked banana pudding at Freedmen’s

Best cobbler – Peach at Louie Mueller

Best sauce (tie) – Jalapeno at Louie Mueller and house-made at Micklethwait

The incidentals:

Best smokehouse – Smitty’s

Best restaurant atmosphere – Black’s

Best music – Freedmen’s

Best line to wait in – Snow’s

Best breakfast drive – From Lexington (Snow’s) to Taylor (Louie Mueller)

Best guy to get pre-trip Texas barbecue advice from – Jeff Meeker

Best guy to wait in line behind – Daniel Vaughn

Best person to take on a Texas ‘cue quest for his 32nd birthday – Hugh Alexander Curtas

(Breakfast time is the right time for a birthday beer at Snow’s)

 

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