a meal to remember.

Last night, Rob and I went out for a fantastic dinner at a Fancy White-Tablecloth Place. (Actually, the tables were dressed in lovely terra-cotta French Provençal linens.) Jean-Robert at Pigall's is probably Cincinnati's top restaurant -- its name a combination of the top chef and one of the city's finest old establishments. Back in the 1960s, Cincinnati somehow produced three of the 10 exclusive Mobil Five-Star restaurants in the country, and Pigall's was one of them.

It was an amazing meal and a terrific evening.

We started with cocktails at the lounge next door, then moved into the dining room. The space was gorgeous -- an inviting, long, low-ceilinged space with interesting decor and the above-mentioned linens. From the moment we sat down, the service was perfection -- proper and professional but warm and unpretentious.

And the food. OMG, the food.

We opted for the three-course menu, though the five-stepper beckoned. As a couple of fairly accomplished home cooks, we're always awed when a restaurant takes things that we prepare at home -- in this case, roast chicken and roast sea bass -- and turns them into something we could never possibly accomplish in our own kitchen.

We started with a lovely amuse bouche -- three of them, actually: a warm potato soup, a duck-confit salad and a phyllo purse of sauteed red cabbage and cream cheese.

First courses were, for me, a composed crabmeat/avocado/cucumber salad with a perfect scoop of cider-vinegar sorbet; for Rob, gorgeous duck ravioli with an intensely flavored duck/wine sauce. They were as different as can be, but both were just perfect.

Second courses: for me, the roast sea bass, which sat atop a bed of roasted fennel, sauteed shiitake mushrooms (which gave a creamy, earthy quality), orange segments and blue potatoes, and which was doused in a gorgeous orange butter sauce. I was amazed by the little garnish on top of the fish -- I thought it was shredded carrot, but one bite produced this intense, velvety flavor of candied orange peel. Rob had the roast chicken, which was topped with a wine sauce and sat alongside a sort of potato/cheese/mushroom croquette.

Dessert, as if we needed it, was for me a cheese assortment and for Rob an amazing dark-chocolate molten cake that was elevated to sublime with a scoop of pumpkin ice cream. The first and last entries in my mild-to-strong cheese plate were both Basque sheeps-milk cheeses that tasted similar but impossibly different.

All the way home, we talked about the individual flavors and tastes like we'd dissect the scenes of a complex movie. Every single dish was built from a pantry-full of ingredients, and you could taste each and every one of them individually. You could tell that all the elements had been prepared separately, seasoned minimally, and composed like instruments in an orchestra.

It wasn't a cheap night out, but it wasn't a bank-breaker, either. And it (obviously) left quite an impression. We'll most definitely go back.

more food. really, i need to stop.

Some wise person, I'm not sure who, once said, "It's not Christmas without a cheese ball." So here we are. Actually, this is more of a log than a ball, but the spirit is the same. I spotted this recipe on the blog Homesick Texan, and I doctored it a bit, swapping in walnuts because I love the combination of walnuts and blue cheese.

8 oz. cream cheese
4 oz. blue cheese (I used Maytag, my favorite)
2 Tbsp. Worcestershire
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 cup of toasted walnuts, coarsely chopped

Blend the cheeses until smooth, blend in garlic and Worcestershire. Form into a log, then roll in toasted walnuts. Chill.

too funny.

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

department of food.

On NYTimes.com, columnist Nicolas Kristof has a piece about how President-elect Obama should revamp the Department of Agriculture and rename it the Department of Food. He cites Michael Pollan, noting that U.S. agricultural "policy" subsidizes the production of cheap calories (i.e., high fructose corn syrup) instead of real, healthy food. Here's a bit:

The Agriculture Department — and the agriculture committees in Congress — have traditionally been handed over to industrial farming interests by Democrats and Republicans alike. The farm lobby uses that perch to inflict unhealthy food on American children in school-lunch programs, exacerbating our national crisis with diabetes and obesity.

But let’s be clear. The problem isn’t farmers. It’s the farm lobby — hijacked by industrial operators — and a bipartisan tradition of kowtowing to it.

Can I get an 'amen'?

cookie baking, part 1.

Yesterday was Cookie Baking Day 2008; I mixed up four different kinds (some of which I'll share with my delightful co-workers during our annual homemade gift exchange this week). I'll wait to post the recipes for the ones I'll be sharing (so the HOWgirls don't know what's in store), but there's one batch I. Most. Definitely. Will. Not. Be. Sharing.

No, no. These are mine. They taste like Mom's crunchy caramel frosting--nutty, buttery, caramel-y. I used sea salt, and the coarse grains didn't dissolve and integrate into the dough, so you get this delightful pop of salt in random bites. They definitely require a glass of milk, though they were just as nice with an espresso for our dessert last night.

Brown Butter Shorties from Smitten Kitchen:

1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter

1/2 cup packed brown sugar (preferably dark)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt (flaky salt would be great in these)
Demerara sugar (Sugar in the Raw) or sanding sugar for rolling (optional)

Cut butter into four or five pieces and cook butter in a small heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring frequently, until it has a nutty fragrance and flecks on bottom of pan turn a light brown, anywhere from 4 to 7 minutes. It helps to frequently scrape the solids off the bottom of the pan in the last couple minutes to ensure even browning. Transfer butter to a bowl and chill until just firm, about 1 hour.

Beat together butter and brown sugar with an electric mixer until pale and fluffy. Beat in vanilla, then mix in flour and salt at low speed until just combined. Transfer dough to a sheet of wax paper or parchment and form into a 12-inch log, 1 1/2 inches in diameter. Chill, wrapped in wax paper, until firm, about 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle. Unwrap dough and roll it in coarse sugar, if using, and press the granules in with the paper you’d be using to wrap it. Slice dough into 1/4-inch-thick rounds, arranging 1 1/2 inches apart on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake until surface is dry and edges are slightly darker, 10 to 12 minutes. Let sit on sheet for a minute before transferring to a rack to cool.

a cold night.

On my way home, I debated going to the gym vs. taking a walk and decided I'd see how eager Wrigley was to get outside when I got home. Turns out, OHF had a huge case of The Puppies, so out we went. It was a cold night, and as we walked toward Hyde Park Square, I heard the bells at Knox Presbyterian chiming one of my favorite Christmas carols, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." And we spotted a show in the sky: the conjunction of Venus, Jupiter and the Moon. It was a beautiful sight on a brisk almost-winter evening, and I'm glad I didn't miss it. The gym can wait until tomorrow.

last saturday in november.

Following an unconventional yet fun and satisfying Thanksgiving weekend (we visited Dad & Ellen and Grandma, but missed seeing a sick-y Mom), we're home on a cozy Saturday evening. While Rob played golf this afternoon, I napped and puttered -- the latter including putting up some outside lights and baking a pumpkin pie. Inspired by Ellen's use of candles and seasonal decor on their front porch, I picked up some artificial greenery and some huge red candles, which I assembled on the front porch using the pots that held summer flowers and fall mums, and the huge Ball jars I use for candles on the side porch. All in all, it looks pretty.

For dinner, we hopped into the Wayback Machine and dragged out the February 1997 issue of Bon Appetit. I subscribed to B.A. for years until I stopped (which makes publishers like me crazy), and I saved years' worth of issues and created my own index to recipes we'd tried and loved or dog-eared for future reference. Tonight's dinner is one of those oft-made recipes:

Fettuccine with Sweet Pepper-Cayenne Sauce
Bon Appetit February 1997 (marked with a handwritten note on the page: great!! 1/97)
3 Tbsp butter
2 large red bell peppers in strips
3 minced garlic cloves
3/4 tsp. cayenne
1 cup whipping cream (hi, Mom!)
3/4 cup chicken broth
3/4 cup shredded Parmesan
12 oz fettuccine
1 cup frozen green peas
1/2 cup chopped fresh basil

holiday baking.

I'm planning a bit of time off in advance of Thanksgiving, during which I aim to do some baking. I have an apple tart to take to Dad & Ellen's, and I made a batch of savory parmesan-hazelnut biscotti today to have with some wine pre-dinner at Mom's on Friday. I haven't had much luck with biscotti before, but this recipe caught my eye and it was a real success. They'll be lovely with the nice bottle of white wine I bought to take to Mom. I'm really looking forward to our holiday visits this coming week. I haven't spent much time with my family in the past 2 months (thanks, icky work schedule!), so this will be fun.

the best list.

Here's a new feature on mooth: the best list. The best of the best of the best of the best ...

Herewith, the first entry (we'll add more to the new list on the right-hand side of the page):

On the Best List/Music:

"More Than This" by Peter Gabriel

a very ordinary evening.

Rob is away for the evening on business (hi to you in Minneapolis, B!), so it's just me an Wig and the sucky Bengals game on TV. After a pretty tasty dinner (scrambled eggs, topped with the remains of my lentil stew and 2 pieces of toast), I've been paying bills, balancing my checkbook and feeling a bit sleepy around the edges. A tough workout and flurries outside the window are largely responsible for that.

Yay. Tomorrow's Friday, and I'm taking a half day off to putter (following a godawful H.R. meeting in the morning). On the menu for tomorrow when Rob gets home: Ina Garten's lemon roasted chicken and Moroccan couscous. Yum.

By the way, I did end up picking lettuce on Tuesday evening, after a hard freeze. That morning, it looked sad and frozen and I was afraid I'd lost it, but by the time I got home the sun had perked it up a bit and I cut the whole batch (about a row and a half of mixed variety) to bring in. We had some for dinner that night, and it was still sweet, crunchy and delicious.