Tambo Grill

Peruvian cuisine, when done right, is an adventure for the palate. Tambo does it right in spades. Besides flavor, I look carefully at three elements in any dining experience: atmosphere, attention, arrangement. Check, check, check. This was the best Peruvian meal I've had so far.

   

     I began with a sweet and lively Tambojito, the house's version of a maracuya (passion fruit) mojito. My coworkers and friends Mabet and Indira tried their robust pisco sangria and the tangy virgin lemonade, respectively. The pisco sangria is made with distilled brandy produced in the regions of Peru and Chile. All three choices made for a sparkling launch to a much anticipated end of a long and busy work week.

     A jaw-dropping sampler platter arrived to take center stage on the table and stoke our appetites. It contained a melange of zesty octopus and fish ceviche, grilled octopus with diced potatoes, an oversized ball of mashed potatoes, lightly breaded and fried, and adorned by more fish ceviche, and grilled shrimp skewers. A party-starter, without a doubt.

   

   Choosing entrees was an adventure in itself. We had to be schooled on the menu language, but once we had the basics, we ordered a good representation of their offerings. Indira ordered the churrasco with fries, a generous and savory serving of skirt steak. After a lot of pondering, I ordered the Seco de Res with Tacu Tacu, which translates to shredded chunks of beef slow cooked in cilantro sauce, and the traditional Peruvian rice and beans. As expected, the braised beef was tender and its flavor infused with unmistakable cilantro, which I happen to love. But the MVP this evening had to be Mabet's Lomo Saltado with risotto, beef strips sauteed in onions, tomatoes, and cilantro served over a bed of a vibrant risotto.

    You'd think we would've lost curiosity for dessert after all the Peruvian flavor excess, but you'd be wrong. We couldn't wait to see what sugary delights awaited. We shared a Suspiro Limeño, a cup of a thick layer of dulce de leche topped by another thick layer of meringue. We also tried the Chocolucuma mousse, a perfect dome of passion fruit cream resting on a thin bed of chocolate graham cracker crust. The passion fruit flavor was powerful, and the texture was reminiscent of panna cotta. It was well executed, but we all gravitated toward the sweet Suspiro.

     Tambo's staff is primarily Peruvian, and they are proud to teach you how their heritage is infused into their food. It's not just a meal, it's a cultural experience. If you close your eyes as you enjoy the flavors and textures of the dishes, you can imagine yourself on the sacred mountaintop of Macchu Picchu, the crown jewel of the Inca empire. Your palate can be your passport.

BB Free ©2018

Bocas Grill

Looking through the menu at Bocas brought back memories of my decade in Venezuela. That was a long time ago, when that rich, beautiful country could be traveled and enjoyed without the burden of political upheaval, the disturbing reality currently unfolding in those parts.

    

A breakfast platter seemed like a good choice to sample a variety of items, so I picked the arepa, steak, eggs, and grilled white cheese combination. Arepas are the daily bread of Venezuela and Colombia, but also feature prominently in Panama and Ecuador. They're made of cooked flour, and if done right, as they were today, they're doughy on the inside with a toasted crunchy shell.

     The steak was well seasoned, and the slice of white cheese was grilled, which brought out its natural saltiness without overwhelming. The eggs missed the mark on the first try. The yolk was overcooked and dry, but David, our amiable Lenny Kravitz-lookalike server, was quick to replace them with perfect sunny side ups. When that velvet yolk broke, it spilled its goodness on the dense, meaty arepa, and all was well in my world.
   

     My friend Kim ordered a stuffed arepa called Catira or 'The Blonde', filled to bursting with savory shredded chicken and American cheese. She added a little pepper for spice, but I thought the chicken was well seasoned without it, and combined effectively with the mild cheese.
     The food was flavorful and satisfying, and prepared with care and creativity, but the motivation for my visit was their milkshakes. Yes, their milkshakes. Sounds too simple, right? Hold on.
     The menu offers three options: Dulce de Leche Churros, Oreos and Churros, and Nutella. Not an easy choice to make, but we finally went for the Dulce de Leche Churros. What arrived was a tower of sweets that can only be conjured in dreams... or nightmares, depending on your taste. The base is a thick dulce de leche shake, as promised, in a mason jar smeared in all the right places with sticky, caramelly dulce de leche and crushed vanilla oreos, and glued onto a plate with more of this delectable mixture. Over the rim of the jar sits a perfectly crunchy round churro, then a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped by another churro, all of this dripping in syrup.
     I don't advise that you tackle this dessert on your own. Make sure you have a friend to help you, and possibly consult your doctor before attempting it. But if you're healthy and willing, it's worth every sugary bite.

BB Free ©2017

   

Havana 1957

   

The Cuban restaurant field in Miami is crowded, to say the least, and competition is fierce. To stand out in this contest, you can either go forward and innovate, or you can capitalize on the element of nostalgia. Havana 1957 impresses with its striking nightclub environment, a traditional Cuban menu, and a spirited live music show that is quickly becoming a favorite among the great Cuban population. That said, this native Cuban always looks for a certain flavor that will conjure memories of that special seasoning in my mother's and my numerous aunts' cooking. I have found it before, but not here.

     We ordered two cocktails we believed would be executed to perfection considering the context, an orange Mojito, or Orangito, and a mango Daiquiri. John said the Mojito had a hint of orange in the rum, and it was sweet, as expected. My $11 Daiquiri, however, was no more than a glorified mango pulp slushie. I've had better and cheaper.
     I live for gastronomic experimentation, but when it comes to Cuban food, there's a standard that must be met for me to consider it good. It's a generational benchmark set a long time ago by a group of masterful women who ruled in the kitchen. For that reason, when I visit a Cuban eatery, I have to go for the staples. John ordered the 'vaca frita', refried shredded beef and sauteed onions, with rice and black beans for sides. I ordered pork chunks, also with sauteed onions, in the company of black beans and 'tostones', or plantain fritters.
   

John's vaca frita was arguably one of the best I've had. It was well seasoned and tender, a quality not easy to achieve with refried beef. My pork chunks were average. The flavor was forgettable, and they were just a bit overcooked. The tostones were perfectly suited for the pork chunks- toasted right, but not accompanied by any 'mojo', the traditional garlic oil marinade for your dipping pleasure.
     The dessert menu offered the expected flans, guava cheesecake, and Tres Leches (Three Milks), a moist yellow cake that has been soaked in a mixture of whole, evaporated, and condensed milks. We skipped the course for two reasons. First, we weren't thrilled with the meal, and second, we were on the hunt for a concoction we'd heard about at a different restaurant called Nutella Overdose. I will leave the details on that for a forthcoming post, but the name says it all.

     Havana 1957 came highly recommended, and I do believe their live music and performances offer entertainment with a unique Cuban flavor. That and the nostalgic feel of the space are the elements that would entice me back, but sadly, not the food.
   
BB Free ©2016

Pisco y Nazca Ceviche Gastrobar

I had something to celebrate. After four loooong years, my first novel was done. I had two more years of editing ahead of me, but at that moment, I was basking in the satisfaction of finally birthing my literary baby. Michele and Pam, two of the muses that inspired Friends of the Bride, joined me in celebrating this most important milestone.

     Ceviche was the new trend in food a few years ago. Although small Peruvian restaurants had always offered it as a staple in their menus, modish new establishments were highlighting this seafood specialty in their elegant menus. The name of this stylish place comes from the Peruvian saying "entre Pisco y Nazca" which refers to the friendly chatter that happens between drinks when humans are being sociable.
     Every time the word "gastrobar" or "gastropub" is in a name, I get a little excited. It means the chances are high that I'll get a chic environment, tantalizing cocktails, and elegant, well-developed eats.

Generally speaking, this 'bar' did not disappoint.
     Neither of my companions wanted to take a dip in the ceviche pool, so I dove in solo. It was very difficult to choose one from the many different versions available, but I finally settled on the Passion Fruit, a combination of mahi, shrimp, and passion fruit in the traditional marinade or 'leche de tigre'. It was crowned with the plumpest and crispiest shrimp, a great introduction to the ceviche. It also had a kick I couldn't ignore, but the sweetness of the passion fruit, and the effective execution of the dish made it impossible not to enjoy it in spite of my spice-sensitive palate.
     A proper toast was a must, and even if Michele chose to do so with water, Pam and I picked some colorful libations. Pam was feeling frisky and ordered a Sex on the Beach. My cocktail was the Nena's Chilcano, a mix of Pisco Cuatro Gallos, a Peruvian brandy, lychee purée, fresh lime, elderflower, hibiscus syrup, and Fever-Tree ginger beer. Lychee flavor has the Midas touch for me. It gives any mixture a rich sweetness.
     Our entrees represented a good sampling of the menu. Pam ordered the Churrasquin, savory skirt steak served on a bed of lima bean tacu-tacu. This is an intriguing fried rice and beans patty typically Peruvian. Pam found it the perfect complement to the beef even though she had a hard time picking up the lima bean flavor.
     Michele ordered the Butifarra, a sandwich on a telera roll which was reminiscent of ciabatta bread. The roll was stuffed with slices of roasted Peruvian country ham and camote, or sweet potato, and salsa criolla, a mix of lime juice, yellow bell peppers, and red onions commonly served with grilled meats. The dish was served in a rustic wooden block with a side of fries. I didn't have to ask Michele if she liked her choice. She closed her eyes every time she took a bite.

    Again, it was difficult for me to make an entree decision because there was so much I wanted to try. In the end, I picked the Causita salad, mixed greens and chick peas over a bed of causa, a yellow potato mash, and a yellow bell pepper vinaigrette. The potato mash was savory and light. The rest of the salad was unremarkable.

     The atmosphere, the diverse menu, the elegant dish presentation were elements that garnered my respect. Great drinks and ceviche, just ok entrees, to sum it up. From what I gathered in my quality control bites, the character of the flavors ebbed and flowed. Until dessert. Pam and I shared the Arroz con Leche cheesecake in a dulce de leche sauce, and garnished with a quinoa crisp. This is where the restaurant got my undivided attention. Every bite of this block of sweetness was an experiment in texture. I savored it, allowed it to dance in my mouth, and to play with my palate, all the while in awe of the curious mingling of the silky cheesecake with the gentle grit of the rice pudding.
     I imagine I'll be examining more of these dens of ceviche while the trend is hot, but I feel a lot more knowledgeable about Peruvian cuisine after my maiden experience. Thanks, Pisco y Nazca. I had a lovely time.

   BB Free ©2016
   

Charcoals Steak & Grill

Let me just start by saying that I don't really know why I'm blogging about Charcoals. Nothing about this meal was extraordinary, or new or even featured a favorite food. I could've easily skipped this post altogether as if the meal hadn't happened, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about it that had to be said.
     Any establishment that has steak in its name is going to attract my husband, the carnivore, so after driving by several times, we decided to try it. We quickly realized that it was simply a Hispanic (primarily Venezuelan) barbecue restaurant with all the predictable staples- fajitas, churrasco, tostones (plantain fritters), rice with black or red beans, among others. One pleasant little gift sitting at the table was a perfect chimichurri sauce, a must-have with beef, if you ask me.

     John ordered the Baby Churrasco with sauteed onions and I the steak sandwich. Both of us found our meat a bit leathery but very well seasoned. My yucca fries were done just right, tender on the inside, crispy on the outside. John said he recognized his fries from the frozen section at our local supermarket.
     A little voice inside told me that no matter how intriguing the Pio Quinto with vanilla custard dessert sounded, it would just be as ordinary as the rest of the meal, but I wouldn't listen. Not only was it ordinary, I didn't quite understand it. At the very least I expected a piece of proper rum cake with custard on the side or draped over it. What we got was a cup of pudding with some kind of soggy crumble drowned at the bottom. I should've listened to the little voice, except I don't like when it tells me to skip dessert.
     So there you have it, the whole meal and nothing I couldn't put together with a grill in my own backyard. Even as I write the last few sentences, I struggle to find something of significance in the experience. The chimichurri, the yucca fries and the flavorful meat... there. Those are the elements that stand out for me. I suppose I'll characterize this meal the way my husband does his usually brilliant guitar improvisations- a whole lot of nothing.

BB Free ©2015

Cuban Guys

   

Fast, cheap and authentic are the words that come to mind when describing these little joints that have popped up around Miami. The menu is quite full of everything you would expect to find in a Cuban sandwich shop. Plantain chips, yucca fries, cod fritters and their signature crispy string fries, all fresh and prepared on the premises, from what I could see.
     John ordered the Original Frita, a thin slice of meat heavily seasoned with paprika, grilled onions and a shower of string fries on a Cuban roll. He didn't care for the seasoning so he wasn't impressed.
     I had the Pan con Lechón, pulled pork marinated in garlic 'mojo', grilled onions and their signature blanket of string fries on toasted Cuban bread. I have to say I liked it. The pork was tender and tangy, as I expected. I do think a little more meat and fewer string fries would make these sandwiches top notch in the fast-food kingdom.
     I wouldn't make a special trip for their food, but they add variety to the options for inexpensive, casual meals. That's a good thing.

BB Free ©2014

100 Montaditos

   

     You sit down, you look at the menu, you take one of the little papers and pencils provided on each table, and you write your own order... Gotta love it!

     Montaditos is an adorable place-  red walls covered in vintage photos of Spanish scenes in contrast to the severe black linear tables and stools.

     The menu indeed comprises 100 different mini-sandwiches (Montaditos) assembled with exquisite ingredients that include Spanish chorizo, Spanish omelette and Serrano ham (of course!), Basque sausage, garlic pork loin, smoked salmon, Manchego, goat and blue cheeses. The memory alone makes my mouth water.

 

     John ordered the pulled pork and Manchego and the Philly steak. I ordered the chorizo and Manchego and the blue cheese, bacon and arugula. John gave them his signature 'they're alright', but I found them tasty and amusing. However, we did agree that the sangrias were delightful. He had the classic and I had the cola sangria, two of several choices on the menu. Next time, I will definitely try the lemon sangria. We also agreed that the side of cheese fries we ordered was disappointing and unnecessary since the sandwiches came with chips.

   

     When lunch ended, my husband said "I wouldn't mind coming back just for sangria and dessert."  I will tell you why. They have dessert minis made with chocolate bread. They can be filled with your choice of Nutella and almonds, Nutella and Oreos, Oreos and whipped cream, Oreos and Hershey's chocolate or item #100, their top of the line, Nutella, whipped cream, almonds and Hershey's chocolate.  They had me at chocolate bread... and at Nutella.

BB Free ©2014

2014 Kitchen Experiment # 4 - Arroz con Leche (Cuban-style Rice Pudding)

     Every Latin American country has its own version of rice pudding, but for me, none compare to the way my Cuban mother and all my Cuban aunts make it.The time has come for me to follow in the tradition.
     Any recipe that includes condensed milk makes me giggle with delight.The amount of sugar in the recipe was a bit scary considering the presence of the sweet milk, but remembering the bodacious flavor of my childhood, gave me the courage to make it snow heavily over the thick mix of rice and condensed, evaporated and whole milk. No regrets.
     Now for the texture. One of the features that turns me off in other versions is the consistency, the way the spoon cuts into the pudding. I simply can't get on board with runny Arroz con Leche. For me, it has to have a soft thickness, a hint denser than condensed milk itself. In my attempt to avoid undercooking it, I ended up overcooking it. The flavor was comforting and familiar, but it had the firmness of bread pudding.
     Midway through the cooking process, I gave John a flavor quality control teaspoon that seemed a little thin to me. I should have allowed for the effects of refrigeration and quit right there. Lesson learned. Nonetheless, I am satisfied to have finally taken the plunge and followed in the footsteps of the illustrious cooks in my family.

Ingredients:

2 cups arboreal rice
1 can evaporated milk
1 can condensed milk
1/4 cup milk
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp butter
3 cups of water
Pinch of salt
Ground cinnamon to taste

Preparation:

Add rice and salt to boiling water. Simmer for 20 minutes or until rice is soft.

Add three milks and sugar, and simmer for 45 minutes or until mixture is creamy.

Add ground cinnamon.

BB Free ©2014

Pincho Factory

     I confess... I am a burger snob. Over the years, I have outgrown the fast food versions. For a while, Wendy's could satisfy the craving, but then Five Guys dethroned Wendy's. That reign lasted a very short time when Shula Burger appeared. Now, my burgers only come from Bar & Grill eateries, Fuddruckers (because they serve bison burgers), or specialty restaurants.

     A while back, on the Today show, I saw a cooking segment with a guest chef who dared to replace the hamburger bun with 'tostones', latin-style plaintain fritters. I was intrigued. This would be my new quest for the upcoming weekend.

    Pincho Factory is a minuscule place in a strip mall with predominantly black and white décor and a lot of traffic. Their specialty is skewers, or 'pinchos'. You can have single pinchos, you can make them into a full entree with a rice bowl, a salad bowl, or swaddled in a thick pita wrap. You can make them into a vegetable dish, you can have them Buffalo-style, a la Caesar, or go Greek. They know their pinchos, no question.

     John teetered on the verge of ordering a pincho, but in the end his love of burgers won out. He ordered the classic 'Pincho Burger', served on potato bread and with all the traditional embellishments plus potato sticks (missing from John's) and their "secret pink sauce".

     I customized my 'Toston Burger' by adding bacon and switching the Jack cheese with my beloved blue cheese, which probably nullified any flavor their cilantro sauce may have offered.

     Both items were flavorful but neither was exceptional. The tostones didn't add or subtract from the total burger experience. One thing we found really disappointing was the size. They were just a smidgen bigger than a slider.

     As I often do, I've left the best for last. We shared a small but very generous order of sweet potato puffs, an ethereal delight so sublime that they melted in your mouth like cotton candy. And, in case you had any doubt that they were made in heaven, they're served with apple butter on the side for that extra burst of sweetness. It's the kind of thing that puts a smile on your face whether you like it or not.

     I don't know that I would go back for the burgers, but I'm captivated by the pincho craze so, if I'm in the area, I will investigate... and have more sweet potato puffs.

    BB Free ©2014