A Seafood Feast Worth the Journey

Cooking on the open fire, Muisbosskerm

How far would you travel for a special restaurant?   Muisbosskerm, an open-air restaurant on the Western coast of South Africa, is a about as hard to get to as it is to spell.  A direct trip from New York requires nearly forty hours in transit including three planes and a three-hour drive once landing in Cape Town.  In this food lover’s opinion, the journey is worth it because there is simply no restaurant like it in the world. 

Most of the Western coast of South Africa is sparsely populated, and the fishing village of Lambert’s Bay is no exception- a few guesthouses and a discount market clustered near the end of a gravel road.  It is a wonder then that Muisbosskerm, a couple of kilometers south of town, has thrived for the last 28 years, now attracting more guests (including more foreigners) than ever before. 

We pulled into the parking lot as the sun was setting, an early 6:30pm on our recent winter visit.  Mud walls were the only real structure, enclosing about four-fifths of the interior, leaving enough space to walk out to the ocean and catch the fading light over a Windhoek lager.  Looking up there was no roof, just the first stars.  This is because all the food we would be eating from grilled fish, to simmered stews, to bread, would be cooked over the open fire.  

Going back for seconds on snoek liver

The owner, a large, friendly Afrikaner, told us to pace ourselves, that the food would be served communally- we could eat as much as we wanted but there would be a lot of food coming out over the course of several hours.  Keeping that in mind I held back as the first arrival, a large platter of steamed mussels with a cast iron skillet of melted butter and garlic, was set down on a high table.  A few of the thirty or so other guests clustered around the pan leaving their mussels shells in a bowl to the side.  These shells would be cleaned and later reappear as “spoons” for scooping paella and stew.

We finally went in for a solid first course when the lady working with a large pot of oil placed a tray of two types of fried fish next to the mussels.  The texture was a dense on one and the taste a bit metallic and rich on the other- we loved both.  Later the owner would tell us those were the roe sack and liver of snoek, an abundant local fish.  We filed that under “Things We Are Glad We Didn’t Know Before” and went back for a second helping.

As the evening progressed over a bottle of wine, we saw two types of smoked fish and four kinds of whole, grilled fish including Angelfish, Kabeljou, and the body of the Snoek.  The paella came off the fire bursting with crawfish, mussels, and squid.  A few more fried pieces appeared, this time of the actual meat of the fish.  There were salads (a bit beside the point), fried potatoes, and bread still steaming from the oven (very much on point). 

For an extra 40 rand per person (about $4) we each had a half of a large crawfish, grilled and painted with butter.  It was sweeter and more tender than most lobster I have had.  This was our kind of dessert.  Though a couple of stews appeared and coffee served, we could not fathom another bite. 

On the surface, it is hard to believe that people would travel so far for a restaurant with no roof, where plates are made of Styrofoam, paper towels work as napkins, and the only utensil available is a mussel shell.  As we warmed our hands by the fire, listening to the crashing of the waves and staring up at the Southern constellations I could not think of another restaurant with this unique combination of atmosphere and wonderful, abundant, local food.   For a restaurant unlike any other, the journey is always worth it.  

DETAILS

Muisbosskerm

http://www.muisbosskerm.co.za/

Lambert’s Bay, Western Cape, South Africa

Make reservations far in advance.  The restaurant only opens when they have at least 15 people on the books.  Check in two weeks before your visit to confirm they will be open.  Dinner only except on Sundays when they do lunch.

Note: Dress warm in winter and it doesn’t hurt to bring a blanket.

Where to stay:

The owner’s brother has a campsite across the street from the restaurant (about 200 rand for the night with showers).  There are several guesthouses in Lambert’s Bay.  For those looking for more luxury, the Clanwilliam Hotel in the charming village of Clanwilliam is a 40 minute drive. 

Cost:

About US$20 per person, $4 extra for the crawfish when in season.  Drinks are paid for separately.  Beer and wine available but BYO is also okay.  CASH ONLY (South African rand)

Best Dishes of 2013

Not to miss out on the end-of-year listacles, a look back at my most memorable dishes from this year.  Note these are all restaurant creations.  If I had to include some of the wonderful home cooked meals I’ve been served and cooked myself, it would be a much longer list as the year was also full of great home cooking.  In no particular order….

17 dishes at Hotel the Village: On my second visit to Sri Lanka I continued to be impressed with the vast array of cooking techniques and flavor combinations that could be presented in a single meal.  However, nowhere have I seen more diverse, complex, vegetable-driven preparations than at Hotel The Village restaurant in Girithali, Sri Lanka.  We were awestruck by the bounty when we weren’t busy eating from the 15 different bowls of curried vegetables, dal, pork, lake fish, and sambal presented with two different kinds of rice. With juice, this feast came to barely USD$10 per person.

Cacio e Pepe at Lupa:  Mario Batali’s Lupa is no secret, and for anyone who has eaten there, neither is the Cacio e Pepe.  While it may have taken me a while to get on board with this program, I made up for it plenty going back four times this year.  When you find a dish that is “the best”, it is hard to keep away when the craving strikes for the perfect cheese and black pepper slicked pasta.

Rabbit in Salt Bowl with Courgettes at Duck Soup: Since stumbling upon this restaurant suggestion on a London food blog a few summers back, this has quickly become a go-to restaurant for John and me.  The small plates change constantly and we have been consistently impressed with their range. This Labor Day weekend it was a braised rabbit dish with baby courgettes served in a Himalayan salt bowl that captured my taste buds’ memory and insured that as long as Duck Soup is open, we will keep coming back.

Ddukbokki at Hanjan:  I love Korean, in no small way because I’m obsessed with pickled food and kimchi is perhaps the pinnacle of pickling technique.  Hanjan, a modern Korean newcomer to the Flatiron district makes kimchi all right, and it is a must every time I eat there.  Along with the kimchi, the Pork Fat “Ddukbokki” is now on my “must order” list.  Chewy rice cakes and briny sliced fish cakes mingle in a slick of spicy pork fat.  There is nothing quite like it.

Lamb Neck at Calliope:  I should be embarrassed how often I eat lunch at Calliope.  I can’t help it.  Eric Korsh and Ginevra Iverson might be making classic (and updated classic) French food better than the French in this Francophile city.  But if you go once, go for dinner, as that is where their food truly shines.  There is always a game bird on the menu, and it is always delicious.  Some nights I have been enchanted by specials such as a deconstructed cassoulet made with confit veal breast.  But make sure someone at your table orders the hot and sour braised lamb neck, served off the bone with pillow-light mascarpone agnolotti.  That is the stuff dreams are made of.  

Ceviche at El Camello Jr.: When two singing taxi drivers tell you that this is their go-to place for fish whenever they shuttle tourists the hour and a half drive from the Cancun airport to Tulum, you know the food has got to be good.  El Camello Jr. is owned by fisherman and attached to a seafood market.  The fish is so fresh you can watch the cooks cleaning the catch from an open window.  The “chico” fish ceviche was so not-small and so delicious that could have been a meal for two on its own, with a side of excellent chips and a cerveza, of course.

Adobada at Los Tacos No. 1: Los Tacos No. 1 changed my life.  This is not hyperbole.  As a native Californian, homesickness to me tastes like tacos.  I mean real tacos.  Not the fancy versions popping up all over New York from star chefs trying to reinvent the wheel.  I mean real, honest, homemade tortilla, fresh salsa, meat-on-a-spit tacos.  Then three entrepreneurs schooled in Tijuana-style tacos brought Los Tacos No. 1 to Chelsea Market, practically at my doorstep.  Now when I get the craving, a taste of home (washed down with an ice cold Jamaica) is only a hop, skip, and jump away.

Tri-color Pappardelle with Matsutake Mushrooms at Piora: I despise the word “fusion”, but even then, I have been hard pressed to come up with a word to summarize the style at West Village newcomer Piora.  So I won’t.  It is enough to know the food is wonderful without trying to hard (even if the service does try a bit too hard on occasion).  A special one night last fall of tri-color homemade pappardelle with Matsutake mushrooms, a varietal prized in Japan, seemed a classic mash-up of Asian and Italian sensibilities.  Whatever you want to call the cuisine at Piora, all you need to know is that it is delicious.

Green Curry ramen at Bassanova: Who can chose a best ramen in New York City?  We are spoiled for choice.  And though everyone seems to have a personal favorite for the classic variety (mine is Hide-Chan’s spicy ramen) we are just now seeing the innovation that has been happening in Japan migrate to our shores.  A great early example is the fabled Green Curry Ramen from Bassanova, originally of Japan and now in New York’s Chinatown.  Push the weirdly placed mesclun greens to the side and dip your chopsticks into the beautiful, oversized bowl to fish out springy noodles bathing in a rich, fragrant green curry.  It will make you wonder why no one on this side of the Pacific had thought of that already.

Afternoon Snack at Hasaki: The name “Afternoon Snack” was clearly designed to make one laugh.  This is “snack” fit for a giant, or perhaps an Olympic sprinter.  But for us mere mortals who get hungry at lunch time, this spread is a sampler of just about everything wonderful this authentic East Village Japanese restaurant serves: green salad, red miso soup, tempura vegetables and shrimp, grilled miso salmon, two seaweed salads, and the chef’s sushi and roll selection of the day.  At $18, it might just be the best value “snack” in New York City.

Wishing you food adventures and happy eating in 2014!

Note:  In my capacity as a wine salesperson I do business with Piora, Hanjan, and Calliope.  However, I paid for all food mentioned here and would have happily eaten at any of these restaurants regardless of my business relationship.

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

Sanma Comes but Once a Year

Sanma, salted and broiled

“You are just like Japanese!”  The woman sitting next to me at the bar nearly jumped out of her seat with surprise. For the last hour she had been conspicuously studying my moves.  Sitting alone at the bar of this small izakaya off The Strip in Las Vegas I was a bit of an anomaly.  Amongst the tightly packed tables, I was one of only a handful of non-Japanese faces.

Just then I had removed the spine from a long, thin fish in one movement.  A moment earlier, perhaps sensing this wasn’t my first time eating sanma, my curious neighbor had leaned over and mimed my next steps for eating this strange fish.  She indicated I was to grasp the tail between my thumb and fingers and pulling back in a clean motion bringing the tail toward the head of the fish.

I followed her advice and like that, two salt crusted, slightly charred fillets were separated from the head and the tail both attached by the spine. I had performed the motion, she said, “just like Japanese.”

This was my first experience with sanma, a Japanese fish that makes its short appearance each fall.  I wish I could say I had known what I was ordering but, like most of my dining experiences at this restaurant, the discovery was a happy accident.  I had learned eating at Abriya Raku to defer to the specials board.  Even if the writing on their movable blackboard menu was illegible and the waiter’s description incomprehensible, if I just pointed to a few items these would eventually show up, and I was never disappointed.

Bones removed with the guidance of my new Japanese friend, I found sanma has the sort of rich, firm flesh that I find delicious in other small oily fish.  Mackerel, sardines, and fresh anchovies are all similar in this way.

It would be a while before I saw sanma again.  This fall it made a brief appearance at the Lobster Place, the fish wholesaler with a retail outlet in the Chelsea neighborhood of New York.  Intrigued, I figured it couldn’t be too difficult to prepare at home.  A bit of research revealed recipes that did not differ much from what I often do to sardines.  Guts removed by the fishmonger (apparently some Japanese prefer cooking it with the organs still inside), I made long slashes in the skin and salted the flesh for a quick fifteen-minute cure.  Under the broiler the thin fish needed no more than 4 minutes per side for the flesh to be nicely charred. 

Salt curing the sanma before cooking

A squeeze of lemon and quick spine-removing gesture later and we were sitting down to a light supper of fish that you normally don’t find outside of Japanese restaurants.

The next week at the market we were back hoping for a repeat sanma dinner.  Sadly, in place of the whole fish were thin, boneless fillets.  Without the slender body and delicate spine the fish lost a bit of its magic.  That day we passed and opted instead for the humble whole sardine.  For me, a fish that comes but once a year deserves to be treated with the utmost respect and little does more to honor a fish than cooking it whole, just like Japanese. 

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

Top Trends in My Kitchen 2012

Hamachi with Vietnamese Chili-Fish Sauce

Have you had enough of the Year End Lists?  In case you haven’t been paying attention, there have been a few.  I’ve seen Best Restaurants, Best Dishes, Top Food Trends, Best Fast Food, not to mention psychic predictions as to what we can all expect to be eating, trending, and “besting” in 2013. 

I’ll leave the “Best of” lists to the professionals.  But even in my own universe, food seems to cycle, each year bringing its own personal set of top eats.  2010, for example, would certainly have been The Year of the Duck.  Once John found out I could sear a mean Muscovy, he put in a request for said duck dinner at least once a month.

2011 could have been a few things, but I’ll give a special mention to the clay pot. A simple unglazed bean pot inspired many a long simmered dish from Jamaican goat curry to rabbit ragu. 

Which brings me to the Top Trends in My Kitchen of 2012. 

Saturday Fish

Hamachi Collar

Once John learned how to navigate the tourists and overwhelming selection of fish and seafood at The Lobster Place, our fish consumption skyrocketed.  Walking home from a Friday night or Saturday morning workout, he might swing through and pick up whatever was looking good at that moment.  Opah belly, ahi tuna, hamachi collar, fresh Florida shrimp- we threw the net wide.  I'd prepare the fish simply and we'd eat it alongside a salad. Our Saturday lunches became infinitely healthier.

Grilled pork with Japanese Sweet Potatoes

Wide World of Potatoes

It all started with John’s famous sweet potatoes, roasted with garlic and rosemary, and the occasional dollop of duck fat.  Feeling bold one day, we swapped out the sweets for Purple Peruvian potatoes.  The entrance of Foragers Market to our neighborhood brought the discovery of sublime, creamy Red Bliss potatoes from a local farm, so far removed from the typical grocery store variety it was like I was discovering the potato for the first time.  Then came the revelation of the Japanese variety from BodhiTree Farm at Abingdon Square Farmer’sMarket.  These tiny, misshapen tubers were so intensely sweet I could eat them practically by themselves with little more than salt and pepper.

Ice Cream on Hand

New best practice for dinner parties: always have homemade ice cream in the freezer.  The gift of a Cuisinart ice cream maker last Christmas turned into the unexpected dinner party savior I never knew I needed but apparently did. Keeping ice cream on hand saved me from having to make one more dish on the day of the party, while still reaping the benefits of serving a homemade dessert.  From milk chocolate with Oreos, to lemon sorbet, to pumpkin with candied ginger, there was an ice cream recipe to fit any season and every menu. 

What will be trending in the months to come?  Will John start adding pineapple to his berry smoothies?  Will coriander replace cumin as my favorite spice in the cabinet?  Will potatoes take a backseat as we sample the international rainbow of rice?  Only time will tell.  But if it happens in my kitchen, you will probably be reading about it right here, on Pho the Love of Food.  

Happy New Year! With Vietnamese Duck and Rice Noodles

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

From the Slanted Door to Your Front Door

Cooking Fish for "Halibut Vermicelli with Dill"

It is rare I cook four recipes from a book in a year, let alone a week.  Yet since the moment I received Charles Phan’s new cookbook, Vietnamese Home Cooking, I have only been able to put it down long enough to pick up my chef’s knife and start chopping. 

It is no secret I love Vietnamese food (my blog is named after the country’s most famous dish). And The Slanted Door, Phan’s deservedly popular San Francisco restaurant, has also long been one of my favorites in that city.

However, I will admit I was skeptical the first time I pulled up a stool at the sleek and sunny restaurant bar with its sweeping bay views.  How could this chic space possibly remain true to the food I had devoured on roadside plastic stools and make shift restaurant shacks? 

Then came the crepe.  The Slanted Door may have boasted central air conditioning and walk-in refrigerators, but the golden pan-fried crepe presented to me, stuffed with bean sprouts, pork and shrimp, was a near perfect replica of one I had eaten some years before in Saigon on an oppressively humid day sitting outdoors on the dirt floor of restaurant tucked down a narrow alley. 

Ever since I have been wondering how to make that crepe at home.  Would it ever be possible to form that perfect golden batter tinted with turmeric and scented with coconut milk in my own kitchen?

Crepe with Pork and Shrimp

Thanks to Vietnamese Home Cooking I can now definitively answer “yes”.  To be sure, this book is not Vietnamese cooking lite.  Phan’s recipes sometimes require upwards of fifteen ingredients.  But they are the sort of Vietnamese pantry staples- tamarind, rice flour, fish sauce- that once stocked, will keep you in good supply long enough to work through much of this book.

As devoted as he is to creating authentic recipes, Phan remains a sympathetic teacher.  In a recipe for “Hue Rice Dumplings” he demonstrates creating the batter and forming the dumplings in six beautiful, full color photos accompanied by nine, clear-cut steps.  For “Bánh Cuón: Rice Crepes with Pork and Mushrooms”, he explains how to make the proper steaming contraption (a pot that would be sold specifically for this purpose in Vietnam) using a common pasta pot with steamer insert, fabric, and a 16-inch hose clamp easily purchased from Home Depot.

I have already worked my way through a few of the simpler, everyday recipes (Lemongrass Chicken, Halibut Vermicelli with Dill) as well as some more time consuming (Pork Clay Pot with Young Coconut Juice).  As for the crepe, or Bánh Xèo, it was as I had always hoped.  Thanks to an excellent teacher and his well written book, my crepe emerged as an authentic taste of Vietnam, cooked simply, at home. 

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell