Trivial Pursuits

Extraordinarily Amateur Wine Review

Lovely dinner at a nice Italian restaurant in the Rice Village area, with Dr. Ms. TP and one of our oldest friends from college.

The restaurant doubled as an Italian grocery, so I went to the grocery section to select a bottle of wine.  TP is fast becoming a huge fan of Italian wines, because it his understanding that, whereas the French will often drink wine alone or with bread and cheese, Italians traditionally drink wine mostly with their meals.  As such, there is some opinion out there that Italian wine goes particularly well with food (not that French wine doesn't, of course, it is just rooted in different traditions).

For an everyday Italian wine, TP keeps his eyes open for several Italian wine types: a Dolcetto, a Barbera, and a Montepulciano.  Chiantis are obviously lovely, but as they are typically quite a dry red wine, they go better with red meats or pork, neither of which TP eats all that much.

TP ordered a light penne asparagus dish last night, which came with grilled chicken, roasted garlic, and olive oil.  Therefore, a Chianti and a Montepulciano, both from Tuscany, while they would undoubtedly be excellent, might not meld with the dinner as well as a different red might.  (A white would probably go best with the flavors -- perhaps a Pinot Grigio -- but TP prefers red wines, period, and there are more than a few that go well with chicken, pasta, and olive oil).

At the end of the wine shelf I was peering out, much to my surprise, I saw a relatively inexpensive Barolo, the Rucas 2000.  A Barolo wine, from Piedmont, is typically considered one of the finer Italian wines available.  Made from the Nebbiolo grape, it is, along with a Barbaresco, one of the fine wines of the lovely Piedmont region.

Much to my surprise, the wine was $27 in the restaurant, so factor in the likely 200% markup, and this is a $13 Barolo -- which should be a really good deal.  I sat down with a big shit-eating grin on my face, and intimated that I thought we'd have some pretty decent wine.

While it is unusual for me, I was right:

Intense aromas of fruit, slight undertones of earth and clay.  Medium-bodied, firm wine with strong tannins that soften to a velvety palate with a good 20 minutes of decanting.  Could probably benefit from even more aeration.  Strong flavors of plums, strawberries, and subtle residues of cocoa and honey.  Smooth texture, well-structured wine that finishes with a flourish.

Goes incredibly well with food.  An amazing bargain; I'll be looking for this one in wine stores. 

Extraordinarily Amateur Wine Review

Two reviews for your pleasure, or lack thereof.

The first takes us to South Africa, land of TP's birth, and TP's heritage (both parents born and raised there).  While TP is thoroughly American, having been raised in this country only a few short months after birth, he considers himself of S. African heritage, at the very least.  A child of immigrants, in addition to being an immigrant himself.

South Africa holds a special place in TP's heart.  It is one of the most extraordinary places I have ever been.  Cape Town is the most beautiful city I have ever seen.  I have a little fantasy about owning a timeshare there someday, and you can bet your @ss I'll be front and center for World Cup 2010.

Last time TP was there (2 summers ago), he went on a lovely wine tour of Stellenbosch, the most famous wine producing region in the mountains near Cape Town.  Simply unearthly beauty.

So, TP looks for S. African wines where available, and is often disappointed, because Australia and Chile, among foreign New World wines, get all the pub.  Unless it's a very large wine store, even nice liquor stores will carry fewer than five bottles of S. African wine (though I have been noticing that this brand of wine is relatively popular right now -- note the pun on the label).

Generally, TP can recommend S. African wines from Bergkelder, Simonsig, and Nederburg.

KWV is one of the biggest SA wine producers, and TP selected and tasted a KWV 2001 Shiraz.  As in Australia and Chile, shiraz grapes are very popular right now.  TP especially likes New World shiraz wines because he likes spicy, peppery wines, and more than a few such wines are made using New World techniques and shiraz grapes.

The 2001 Shiraz is a ruby red wine, with a strong nose of spices -- mainly cloves and peppers [perhaps white pepper, in particular] -- and hints of fruit, though fruit aromas are almost overwhelmed by the scent of spices.  In fact, "strong" and "overwhelming" are good adjectives to describe this particular wine.

A full-bodied wine, it is quite well-integrated with medium to high tannins.  The wine is firm and definitely spicy, with a strong flavor of pepper, and a hint of cinnamon.  Where this wine really misses is in the balance.  It is a strong, heavy wine: the high tannins and spicy flavors threaten the overall balance, as well as diminish complexity.  It is such a strong wine, little secondary or tertiary flavors come through.

Decanting it for over an hour seemed to lessen the explosiveness, but this is not a subtle wine.   I like Shiraz wines, and I also like spicy wines, so I didn't have too big a problem with the wine, but it is not very well balanced, and would certainly not sit well with everyone.

*********************************************************************

Temperatures in Houston soared into the triple digits this past weekend.  In Houston, the notion that summer begins on June 21 is laughable, truly.  While the dominant white grape varietal has been Chardonnay in this country for some time, TP explained in a prior review why he doesn't particular dig on most Chardonnays (often bone-dry, too acid, oaked to death).

As a white, TP much prefers Riesling.  It's a crisp, delicate, often charming varietal, usually not too dry, but sweet and refreshing, especially on a blazing summer's day.

This particular blazing summer's day brought a Schmitt Sohne Riesling Kabinett 2002.  The term "kabinett" signifies the ripeness of the grapes when picked.  The Schmitt Sohne winery is located in the Mosel-Saar-Ruwer region of Germany, generally considered the finest wine region in Germany.

The wine is a pale, almost transparent color, with a grapey, almost flowery nose, containing just a hint of spices.  A strong palate of cranberries infuses the experience of the crisp, light-bodied, off-dry wine.  Though the wine is sweet, it is not intensely so, and the medium acidity complements the sugary sensations nicely, and gives good balance.

Though there is little depth or complexity to the wine, it is a delightfully crisp, fruity Riesling, perfectly refreshing on a warm summer's day.  Recommended.

Restaurant Review: Ruggles Cafe & Bakery

Still on cloud twelve to be presently residing in civilization, Dr. Ms. TP and I have made several forays in the last few weeks to one of our favorite little bistros, Ruggles Cafe & Bakery, at 2365 Rice Blvd.  While we love fine dining, and were fortunate to dine at two of Houston's top eateries this past week (Tony's and Mark's), we are both generally low-key foodies who enjoy good bistro style dining.

We're also generally creatures of habit, and while variety is the spice of life, I, and to a lesser extent, Dr. Ms. TP, likes what we likes, especially when it comes to food.  Dr. Ms. TP in particular is addicted to a dish at Ruggles C&B, and so, stomachs growling, TP having enjoyed some fine wine (reviewed below) on a pleasant Sunday afternoon, we trundled off for dinner at Ruggles C&B.

Now, for those of you not in the know, there are several different Ruggles restaurants in the greater Houston area (two grill locations, inside Saks Fith Avenue in the Galleria, and the original Ruggles, on Montrose right near Westheimer, as well as Ruggles inside The Ballpark Formerly Known as Enron, and Ruggles Latin Bistro in downtown).  They are all considered relatively nice restaurants (maybe just a notch below Tony's, for example), and they are famous across Houston for their desserts -- and justifiably so.

However, and I think Dr. Ms. TP may have a slightly different opinion on this question, I'm less enamored with the general quality of their food than with the quality of their desserts.  I find Ruggles to be a good, but not great restaurant.  For the prices they charge and the atmosphere they're obviously trying to project (i.e., fine dining), I think they come a bit too close to missing the mark.

But Ruggles C&B, as a bistro, is not reaching quite so high, not flying too close to the sun on wings of pastrami.  And it squarely hits its target.

Dr. Ms. TP and I arrive at about 7 in the evening, the late afternoon sun still hugging the beautiful live oaks on Rice campus with its warm glow.  The weather, while starting to get hot, is still lovely, warm and inviting, in the evenings right now.

The restaurant is not too crowded, which is partly a result of the renovation Ruggles C&B conducted within the past year.  Previously, the dessert and coffee bar jutted out perpendicular to the order counter, cutting off the flow of the dining area and squeezing space and diners together.

The renovation involved expanding the patio seating (lovely, under the live oaks), and aligning the dessert bar with the order counter, which greatly improved the aesthetics of the interior, as well as increasing available space.

The decor of the restaurant is really well-done; understated, with the primary theme being wood, alternating with an alternating off-red and yellow paint on the walls.  Large windows ring the entire restaurant, letting the late afternoon sunshine in.  The menu is hand-written in pastel chalk on about 10 chalkboards that hang over the counter.  All in all, the restaurant manages to create, if possible, an epitome of bistro style dining: warm, inviting, comfortable, casual yet not sloppy, and easy.

Dr. Ms. TP knows what she wants; she doesn't even glance at the board.  Me, I need a little more time.  Virtually everyting I've had at Ruggles C&B is excellent -- sandwiches, salads, etc., but I decide to try something new today.  We place our orders, obtain our drinks from the self-service fountain, and slide into a comfy booth.

A counter service restaurant, the food always comes out extremely quickly, and this time was no exception.  The portions at Ruggles C&B are quite large; so sharing is eminently possible.  There is a nice variety of sandwiches, soups, pastas, and salads.

Dr. Ms. TP got what she had been craving: a salad of mixed baby greens in a honey mustard vinaigrette, mixed with walnuts, shoestring slices of granny smith apples, and grilled chicken.  The salad also comes with warm Roquefort cheese, but Dr. Ms. TP and cheese don't generally agree, except in very small amounts, she she skipped out on the cheese.

It's a marvelous salad.  First off, the basis is mixed greens, which is key for TP, because nothing irritates him more than a decent restaurant serving up fixins on top of a bed of iceberg or romaine lettuce and calling it a salad.  Look, lettuce lovers, lettuce is a poor salad base.  Sorry to be sacriligous, but it's true.  It's cheap, has very little taste, and it has virtually no nutritional value other than pure roughage.   It doesn't do a whole lot for TP unless it's on a sandwich.  Give me a spinach based salad (tasty and really good for you), or at least some mixed greens, for god's sake.

The honey mustard vinaigrette is also excellent, though TP suspects it's not light on the calories.  Still, it is actually a vinaigrette -- it's not a thick creamy, ranch-style dressing, but is actually light and almost delicate.  Nor is it so sweet that it masks the flavors of whatever it touches, but rather, adds to the natural flavors of the salad goodies.

The smoothness and sweetness of the dressing contrasts well with the slight bitter taste of the walnuts, which TP loves, and converges with the sweet and juicy granny smith apple shoestrings to form a mouth-watering combination.  Add in the healthy helpings of grilled chicken, and you have quite a salad, frankly.  Ruggles C&B also slices their chicken breasts horizontally, in the panini style, which is nice because the chicken is thin, and both easy to cut and to eat.

Delicious.  TP attacks his own meal with vigor.  It's a simple grilled chicken sandwich on a toasted roll, with lemon pepper aioli (similar to mayonnaise, but better), fruit on the side, and shoestring sweet potato french fries (you can get these with any sandwich on the menu).  It's simple and darn good.  The chicken is plentiful and sliced panini style.  What I mean by "panini style," is that if you go to any good Italian cafe or bistro, and order a sandwich with chicken, it is usually sliced lengthwise through the middle of the breast, and then beaten, to make the filling thin and ideal for pressing. 

Aside from making the sandwich easier to eat, it somehow, by some mechanism TP cannot explain or is not aware of (re: Google didn't help), really enhances the texture and flavor of the sandwich.  TP and Dr. Ms. TP LOVE panini.  We make it at home sometimes.

In any case, the white-bread roll is soft, fresh and warm, the chicken is thin and hot, and the lemon pepper aioli is not at all too glutinous (a common problem with mayonnaise based sauces), but instead adds a subtle mix of flavors and aromas to the sandwich.

The fruit is fresh and delicious, and the shoestring sweet potato french fries are out-of-this-world.  Ma TP lives for sweet potato, and she tells me that scientists have determined that there is a nutritionally correct answer to the question, 'if you were stranded on a dessert island and could only eat one food, what would it be?' She claims the answer is sweet potato, because it has the best mix of what you would need to survive. 

Right or wrong, french fries made from them taste indescribingly good, as the natural sweetness of the vegetable contrasts wonderfully with the crunchiness of the batter coating the fries.  Fabulous.

We were too full to attempt dessert, though we did take home a chocolate-chip muffin (excellent), and we have eaten dessert there countless times.  I can particularly recommend the white chocolate bread pudding (serves two, easily), and the chocolate sheet cake (serves two, but only if one of them is not TP).

For bistro dining, Ruggles C&B is on the pricey side (each meal comes to a little more than $10 not including drinks), but the food and ambience make it well worth it.  Come for a meal, stay for dessert.  All they need is Wi-Fi, and they'll have to pry me

Dr. Ms. TP Says: The bathrooms could stand some improvement.

TP RATE: 3.5/5 ROLLS

Excruciatingly Amateur Wine Review

Lovely weekend, thanks.  Much fun and grad-yation was had by all.

As you may or may not know, TP has decided he is not nearly nerdy enough (an opinion admittedly shared by few), and has begun the process of becoming a wine nerd.

Let's be clear: TP has done some reading (Wine for Dummies rules), and has some experience with liquor tasting (malt whisky and bourbon, and a wine tour in the Stellenbosch region near Cape Town, South Africa, of which TP is convinced is the most beautiful city in the world), but he is strictly an amateur when it comes to wine.  Strictly.  Pa TP in Law, incredibly cultured man that he is, suggested a technique he used 30 years ago when starting his own affair with wine: get the label off of the bottle you drink, put it in an album, and write your thoughts on the wine.

Embrace your nerdiness.  Love it, pet it, make it yours.

In that spirit, ha ha, I am introducing a new aspect of the food reviews we like to bring you here at TP (speaking of which, look for a review in the next few days): TP's Excruciatingly Amateur Wine Reviews.

Beaumes de Venise Cotes du Rhone Villages 2001:

TP generally prefers red wines to whites, although that is, to some extent, a reflection of TP's general impatience for the glut of poor Chardonnays that assaults you when you enter most wine shops and restaurants.

Look, Chardonnay is obviously a fine grape (as if it needs my approval!), but it is too often presented in a wine that is bone dry, highly acid, and far too oaky, such that the tartness and oaky flavors simply dominate the wine, masking other subtleties.

In any case, TP doesn't like overly dry wines, and digs on dem tannins too much to spend too much time in the white wine section of the aisle.  Other white grapes, particularly Rieslings, do better with TP, especially as we head into the BBQ known as the Houston summer, where a crisp, relatively sweet, medium or off dry wine can be wonderfully refreshing.

Most of TP's wine adventures these days are spent squarely amidst the red wines, and of these reds, TP's favorite are the wines from Burgundy (as of yet, too little experience to really judge whether he prefers Cote de Nuits or Cote de Beaune, but he has already developed a hankerin' for a nice Clos de Vougeot), but he is experimenting with red wines from all over France (Bordeaux from Medoc and Haut-Medoc in particular, and Beaujolais-Villages).

Today, we travel to the Rhone valley to experience a wine from the Cotes du Rhone Villages.  Wines from the Cotes du Rhone are generally considered excellent value wines: highly drinkable, with decent depth and complexity, with some relatively nice wines available for $10-$15.

The Cotes du Rhone region is a great source for delicious red wines that are moderately priced but packed with flavor and character.

[ . . . ]

The stature of Cotes du Rhone has also been heightened by the creation of the more exalted appellation of Cotes du Rhone Villages, which is reserved for prime growing areas comprising more than 13 percent of the region's acreage. In addition to the 95 villages at this level, 16 villages holding another 7 percent are accorded the still-higher honor of indicating their municipal names on the labels. The most widely known of these include Rasteau, Cairanne and Beaumes de Venise [woo-hoo! Picked it off the shelf without any help!].

This article is also an excellent source of information on Cotes du Rhone wines.

Without further ado, we here at TP give you the first wine review:

A ruby wine, with an herbaceous, almost grassy nose, earthy, and almost musty.  The wine is firm, with medium body, and medium, even tannins.  The palate is well balanced, and finishes quite well, with better than average length that contains hints of blackberries and pepper.  Only mild depth and complexity, but that is understandable in a $9 bottle of wine.

All in all, an eminently drinkable, surprisingly even and well balanced wine, that would seem to go relatively well with cheese and fruits, in particular.

A Primer on Japanese Cuisine

For you newbies out there, Ms. TP is Japanese, so I feel a bit more qualified than the average gringo to pontificate on this matter.

First, some terminology.  Repeat after me: Sushi is not equivalent to sashimi.  Say that ten times until you've got it.  Sushi refers to a style of cuisine--really, it refers to the vinegared rice that is the base of all sushi dishes.  Sashimi refers to the raw fish that often, but not always, is prepared as an element of that cuisine.  Sashimi is often served without rice at all.  Got it? Sushi is style, sashimi is raw fish.

Second, repeat after me: sushi is not equivalent to Japanese cuisine.  Sushi (or, to be more precise, sashimi) is a delicacy in Japan.  No one eats sushi morning, noon, and night every day.  It is perceived similarly to how eating at a quality steakhouse in Texas is perceived.  It's almost an event in and of itself.  Everything is expensive in Japan, including food, and sashimi and/or sushi is extra expensive.  A full on sushi lunch or dinner in Tokyo at a fine sushi restaurant will shock you with its price, I assure you, and this I know for a fact.

Try eating kai-seki at an inn in Kyoto (kai-seki is the traditional and most elegant style of food served in Kyoto; it always includes sushi and sashimi).  It costs about $120/person, minimum, not including drinks.

In fact, when Ms. TP and I go out to a Japanese restaurant, she rarely orders sushi.  I think (and correct me if I'm wrong, darlin') that Japanese food is probably Ms. TP's favorite cuisine, but yet she only occasionally eats sushi.  That's the point; traditional Japanese cuisine is composed of a huge number of dishes and foods that are not even remotely close to sushi.  This link gives you a few examples of more typical Japanese cuisine.

But for many Westerners, eating Japanese means eating sushi, when this is simply incorrect.  Never fear, FH, you can go to a Japanese restaurant and find plenty of delectable dishes on the menu, both westernized (chicken or beef teriyaki) and traditional Japanese (tempura, sukiyaki -[sukiyaki is orgasmically good, but don't eat it now, it is strictly a winter dish], katsudon, etc. [all of these dishes should be on the menu of a fine Japanese restaurant]).

Moreover, given that sushi is not raw fish, you can go to any Japanese restaurant and eat a full, delicious sushi meal without one iota of raw meat crossing St. Palate's Gate.  This is all the more true in the U.S., because Japanese restaurant proprietors aren't stupid; they know many westerners are not going to eat raw fish.  So they increase the variety and number of dishes prepared in the sushi style, but which contain strictly cooked fish and crustaceans.  All you need to do is look at the menu to figure it out, or ask your server.  If they can't help you, it's not a restaurant you want to be at, anyway.

A Proud Japanese Cuisine Moment

One of the proudest moments in TP's recent life came last July, on Ms. TP and my honeymoon to Tokyo.  I had been insistent on wanting to eat sushi, and Pa-TP-in-law readily agreed, and we trundled off to a sushi restaurant near the financial district and Tokyo Station that he had been eating at for nigh on twenty years.

The sushi chef was incredible; he was a lovely, wizened, sparkly old man, who could not have been less than 85, and said he had been preparing sushi for over 60 years.  The restaurant displayed a long set of fishing hooks above the sushi counter, which Pa-TP-in-law explained was a sign of a high-quality sushi establishment.  It means that the fish is all line caught, which matters because lots of fish in Japan is caught with nets, which makes the fish struggle for hours, which causes massive calorie burnoff and can drastically affect the composition, texture, and quality of the meat.

So, if you find yourself in Japan, and have a hankerin for some sushi, make sure the restaurant displays the hooks.

In any case, I love sushi, and was more than happy to eat whatever the good chef decided to put in front of me, with few exceptions (TP's a texture guy, so rubbery meats don't go down all that well, so octopus, squid, clams, and abalone are pretty much the only sashimi TP don't dig on).  Near the end of the meal, the chef looked up in amazement at Pa-TP-in-law and Ms. TP, and said something in Japanese, which Ms. TP translated as, 'He's amazed at what you eat.  Said he'd never seen a gai-jin eat all the sushi the chef had put in front of me.'

I was just busting, and to understand why, you have to know a little bit about TP's gustatory history.  My dad, extended family, and most of my parents' friends were in a regular state of panic about my eating habits when I was growing up.  I ate tuna salad, chicken and turkey from time to time, and eggs.

And that's it.  This is not really much of an exaggeration.  I was the pickiest of picky eaters.  I liked nothing.

And there I was, 20 years later, earning the admiration and respect of an 85-year-old master sushi chef with my willingness to experience new flavors and foods.  A highlight of TP's recent life.

Thus ends our digression into Japanese cuisine.  Now, for the review.

Restaurant Review: Kubo's Sushi Bar & Grill

Ms. TP and I have probably eaten at Kubo's at least 20-30 times in the last few years.  We absolutely loved the restaurant as soon as it opened.  Run by several of the more venerated sushi chefs in the Houston area, the place was characterized by fine food, a spacious interior, soft light, immaculate bathrooms, and -- a key for any ethnic restaurant, in this reviewer's opinion -- an everpresent number of Japanese people dining at any time.

In the last year or so, however, Ms. TP and my enjoyment of the restaurant had declined somewhat, as the place had become almost trendy.  Gone was the quiet jazz stylings gently piped into the background, replaced by a louder form of electronica.  A Caravaggio-esque red curtain had appeared to mark off a sort of private dining room, plasma TVs appeared at the drink bar, service became slower and less attentive, and the restaurant became far more crowded.

The nadir occurred 3-4 months ago, when Ms. TP and I met some friends for early dinner there (about 4 pm on a Saturday), only to be literally rushed through the meal because they were closing the restaurant for a private party shortly.  We had no problem with the private party, but we were astounded that they chose to seat us without telling us that the kitchen would be closing shortly to prepare.  Instead, they rushed us through the meal, with the waitress going so far as to DECLINE to show us a dessert menu, basically saying to us, 'Get out, and try not to let the door hit your @ss on the way out.'

Inexcusable, especially for a restaurant of Kubo's caliber. 

Nevertheless, giddy with the free air of civilization, Ms. TP and I bravely ventured back last Saturday night, and had a delightful experience. 

I performed a gut-check, so to speak, while walking to the restaurant, nervous that it would be loud and obnoxious and crowded on a Saturday night.  To my surprise, when we entered we were seated immediately.  The restaurant was serving an ideal number of patrons -- pleasantly busy, but not overly so.

The restaurant has highly appealing aesthetics.  A large wooden panel abuts the southern side of the entrance, with wax dishes encased in well-lit windows.  Before the hostess stand sit the specials, one of which looked so amazing we ended up ordering it (see below).

The blood-red curtain had been replaced with a less arresting purple version, there was no loud club music, and the lovely lighting was still present.  over each booth Kubo's hangs a Starbucks-style lamp, which suffuses only the immediate table with a soft light, while the remainder of the restaurant is a few shaded darker, as it should be.

Though we felt pretty good, we wanted to feel better, so we decided to order a cocktail.  Ms. TP is an unabashed fan of girlie drinks, so she went for the Japanese mojito, which turned out to be lovely.  TP decided to experiment with the Sake Lemon Drop, a lemon drop made with vodka and -- you guessed it -- sake.  I was immediately perturbed when I asked our server for the drink, and he gave me a look as if I was speaking -- you guessed it -- Japanese, and asked me to repeat the name of the drink.  Opening the menu, I pointed to the entry for "Sake Lemon Drop," verbatim what I had requested, and he slunk off to fill the drink order.

As I remarked to Ms. TP, the waitstaff simply has got to know the specialty drinks on the menu; it's simply inexcusable not to have the basic level of familiarity with the establishment's signature.  The drink itself was well-made, if quite sour and puckery (to be expected in a drink with a lot of sake).  Nevertheless, I hoped that the waiter's snafu didn't portend the meal itself, but in this, my hope was met and exceeded, thankfully.

Both hungry and happy, Ms. TP and I indicated to each other a desire to go all out, and go all out we did.  We began with the appetizers.  A longtime favorite of Ms. TP's is agedashi tofu, which is a kind of deep-fried tofu in soup stock, topped with bonito flakes.  TP has turned into a bit of a tofu-natic (thank you all very much, I'll be here all week!!) over the last few years, and whereas he did not care for the dish 3 years ago, he cannot get enough of it these days.

And oh my god was it good.  The best tofu, when prepared, should never be overly chewy, but should rather be utterly silken in character, and should essentially melt in your mouth.  This tofu did exactly that, but the silkiness of the interior contrasted so wonderfully with the crunchiness of the skin that formed when deep-fried.  The salty sauce made for an incredible trifecta of flavors and textures.  Truly, one of the best agedashi tofu dishes I have ever had.

We also ordered Kubo's version of negimaki, a dish which is generally found only in western or western-style Japanese restaurants, but is nevertheless unbelievably tasty.  It is basically a steak and onion spring roll in a tonkatsu style sauce.  Japanese beef is simply different than American beef.  It is available in Japanese supermarkets, served in thin, rolled-up slices (similar to cold cuts).  It is much easier to stir fry and prepare such beef, and it tastes just remarkable.  I don't mean to denigrate Texas steer, but it's gotta be tasted to be believed.

Kubo's serves the negimaki as steak rolled up over chunks of asparagus.  The beef was lean, delicate, and aromatic, and mingled oh so well with the crunchy and pungent taste of asparagus.  The salty (most Japanese sauces are salty; in fact, that is the only element of traditional Japanese cuisine that is relatively unhealthy -- Japanese food is high-salt) tonkatsu sauce created the perfect base for the other flavors to explore the palate.

A bowl of standard miso soup went down easily as well.

Hearts gladdened, we turned to the main courses, which had been served quite promptly, just as we were finishing the delectable appetizers.  Ms. TP had ordered a personal favorite of hers, chicken udon (a dish we prepare at home often, it consists of chicken, udon noodles, tofu, greens, a kind of fish gelatin that not even TP likes, all in a delightful base seasoned with soy), and I went all out with the sushi.

I ordered a combo platter, which came with one piece each of smoked salmon, tuna (TP's favorite sushi and sashimi), yellowtail, seabass, cooked shrimp, eel, several california rolls, an order of cucumber rolls (the greatest vegetable ever), and the amazing special roll whose name, unfortunately, escapes TP.

Most people who have never tried sashimi (I'm looking right atcha, FH) wrinkle their noses at the prospect of raw fish, probably because they associate the taste of raw fish with the smell of raw fish.  This is a common misconception.  Good sashimi does not taste remotely fishy.  In fact, it tastes far less fishy than cooked fish.  Don't take my word for it; ask anyone who eats sashimi if it tastes overly fishy.

Now, some sashimi retains a very fishy taste -- Ms. TP's favorite, sea urchin, for one.  But, if you stick to the basic fish (tuna, yellowtail, salmon, sea bass, etc.), you don't have to worry about a strong fish taste.  It simply isn't there.

High-quality sushi should practically melt in your mouth.  if it is chewy or stringy, it is low-quality sushi.  The sushi at Kubo's clearly belongs in the former category.  It went down so quickly I barely recall eating it.

I could not tell if the california rolls were prepared with imitation crabmeat (cheap) and real, lump crabmeat (expensive), but by that point, I was too far gone to even care.

The Amazing Special Roll -- which may have been called a dragon or rainbow roll -- consisted of about 12 pieces of nigiri, each of which contained exquisitely thin slices of avocado (Ms. TP and I LOVE avocado) layered over the nigiri with an occasional and equally thin slice of smoked salmon, adorning a center of fried shrimp and cream cheese.  Good god.  What a complex and exquisite blend of flavors -- the cool softness of avocado, the smoked, salty salmon, the vinegar-y rice, the still-warm shrimp, and the smooth, pasteurized sensation of the cream cheese.  I'm hungry just thinking about it.

I tasted Ms. TP's chicken udon, which was excellent.  The udon noodles were soft and slippery, as they should be, the chicken was not overcooked, and the soup itself was not too salty.

The service turned out to be excellent, and we strode out of the restaurant into the uncommonly cool late April night.

We did have dessert later that evening -- a chocolate crepe at Crossroads, but this post is far long enough.

Kubo's has worked itself back into my good graces.  We shall return shortly, I think.

TP RATE:

4/5 ROLLS

Scotchy Scotch Scotch

TP adores Scotch.  It's really the perfect liquor, IMO.  Great on cold days (yes, we get a few of these in H-town) and warm days, excellent as an cocktail or, as TP prefers it, a post-prandial.

Unfortunately, TP's sense of smell is dulled by his deviated septum (which, near as I can tell, is a requirement for male Ashkenazi Jews), so he is unable to pick up all of the subtleties of the nose, palate, and finish of a Scotch.  Still, I've got my preferences.

Generally, TP keeps a bottle of Glenmorangie around.  The Glenmorangie distillery is located in the Northern Highlands of Scotland.  According to maltwhiskey.com, an excellent source of information on Scotch, Glenmorangie is the Budweiser of Scotch (in Scotland).  As I love port wine as well (actually, TP loves all post-prandials), my personal favorite, and my sturdy, "regular" Scotch is Glenmorangie with a Port Wood finish.  Charles Shields, the proprietor of maltwhiskey.com, writes,

I highly recommend the Port Wood finish.  It is quite subtle, but the port adds an amazing smoothness to the whisky.  It's a quite contemplative dram, perfect for winter evenings by the fire.

Generally, the Glenmorangie with the Port Wood finish sells for approximately $55 in any fine spirits store.

About a year ago, however, I decided to branch out and try The Balvenie, whose distellery is located in Speyside, near Dufftown.  It was relatively pricey, so I purchased the 10-year-old Founder's Reserve.  Charles Shields writes,

This is an exquisite whisky with depth and complexity.  The color is orangey-gold.  The nose is rich with a honey/orange aroma underscored by an earthy muskiness.  The palate is sweet and malty at first with a hint of sherry.  The flavor turns to dryness, bringing out chocolatey and spicy notes.  The finish is complex with a burst of multiple flavors.

This is actually a remarkably good description of the amazing flavors I enjoyed when first trying The Balvenie.  The color is exquisite, the liquor is smooth yet complicated, flowing easily around the palate while simultaneously possessing extraordinary depth and richness.  The bottle was finished, with the help of friends, relatively quickly, and TP quickly informed Dr. Brother TP, a longtime fan of Scotch, that The Balvenie was a must.

TP then bought several more bottles of The Balvenie, enjoying each immensely.  Then, Ms. TP, beloved, knowing how much TP enjoys Scotch and port, decided to splurge, and purchased for TP the 21-year-old Balvenie with a Port Wood finish.

Oh.  My.  God.  Without question, the finest commercial Scotch TP has ever had the joy of tasting.  Mr. Shields reviews,

[it is] amber, with a complex and delightful nose.  The first impression is of grapey sweetness than a healthy, malty, oaky nuttiness with an undercurrent of anise.  The palate is sweetish at first with grapey, winey notes, then toffee and creamy notes surface.  The finish is long, dry, cedary, and complex.  Quite delicious.

That's an understatement, IMO.  Simply the best; better than all the rest.  Retails for about $100, and it is worth every single penny.

And proof of the singularity of The Balvenie comes from the 2004 International  Spirits Challenge, in which The Balvenie 30-year-old won a Gold Medal (the 21-year old Port Wood won a silver medal). 

A bottle can be yours for the price of $500.

Anyway, it's Friday, and TP therefore in a relatively good mood, and looking forward to a nice glass of Scotch on a cool evening.  The Balvenie, in fact.

Restaurant Review: Pappadeaux's

FOOD POISONING.

Restaurant Review: The Raven Grill

An awful Saturday evening, due to the Hurricanes second consecutive loss to a middling ACC team, turned into a delightful Sunday morning brunch. Ms. TP and I gathered our materials together for a day in civilization (Houston proper, that is), and we drove in. We had several choices, but Ms. TP suggested we try The Raven Grill, a restaurant we've liked very much in the past. TP has only been there for dinner, and found it superb on two occasions, but only mediocre on the third. A little uneven perhaps, but when it has been good, it has been really good, so TP views it favorably. The restaurant, with an emphasis on a wood-burning grill style of cuisine, feels warm and inviting. Somehow, it manages to dress itself down despite the fact that its menu is really quite unique, and that it is located at 1916 Bissonnet, in Southampton, one of the priciest and ritziest neighboorhoods in Houston.

Restaurant Review: Kenny & Ziggy's Delicatessen

The masses (consisting of Kevin) have been demanding a new restaurant review for some time. The major reason for the lack of reviews has been my move out to the wastelands of Harris County, which some call Cypress. I call it Cy-P. Actually, I call it lots of things, but this is a family friendly blog, and I'd like to keep it that way.

Sunday morning, TP kvetched and complained to Ms. TP until she gave in and agreed to go try eat some brunch at a place not named IHOP. (TP loves IHOP, but was in the mood for something a bit 'brunchier'). We were planning on going to the new gym we joined, which is around the Galleria, and K&Z's is an old favorite of ours, so we trundled ourselves into the car, and motored into civilization from the hinterlands.