minibar

Chef Ryan welcomes us to minibar.

minibar by Jose Andres in Cafe Atlantico has to be some of the most difficult seats to reserve in the entire mid-Atlantic. Actually, the difficulty I've had reserving a seat is second only to Andres' mentors' restaurant: El Bulli in Roses, Spain.

It works like this: on any given morning, at 10am Eastern time, you must call quickly and speak with Bonji to reserve your seats exactly one month ahead of time. It's a lot of precision and planning, which just runs against the core of my existence. I'm not very good at planning where I'm going to be one month from today, much less where I'm going to eat.

It also requires mental acuity in understanding the dynamics of the time-space continuum. Just because you're calling Bonji on a Saturday doesn't mean you're reserving for that Saturday a month away. It's exactly one month, which means the day you're calling to reserve is actually a Tuesday. That could be a problem

You have to remember to call at exactly 10am. Exactly. A minute later and "game over" - all the seats will be filled. Everyone and their mother is trying to get a seat at minibar and they go extremely quickly. Afterall, there's only six seats. Add another six because there's two seatings per night and you're fighting that guys' mother for a total of twelve seats. It's vicious.


Pisco Sour

I obtained my reservation with my usual M.O. - I had remembered to call two weeks ago after the designated time but called Bonji anyway at 11:30am one morning. I told her I would like to eat at the minibar. I expected her to get rid of me. She asked how many? I told her I'll take whatever she could give me, from one seat to the whole minibar. She came back with an offer of one seat at the 8:30pm second seating. I'll take it!

The first part of the reservation process is relatively simple compared to the second part. They email you a confirmation form to print out, complete with credit card info and signature, then fax back to them. It's a ridiculous practice that's just dumb. You've got my Amex number, what's the deal with the paperwork for my left kidney? But, I had heard so much about minibar that I wanted to check it out and complied. Left kidney and all.


Olive Oil "Bon Bon"

minibar is just that. A small bar for six people on the upper level of Cafe Atlantico. A restaurant within a restaurant. And while it's considered the showpiece in Jose Andres' empire of cuisine that stretches across America, from sea to shining sea, it's also the red headed stepchild. The crown jewel that shines brightly but doesn't make them money.

Huh? How could you say that, you ask? Don't they charge $120 per person at minibar? Isn't that a bit insane? Well, maybe. According to the staff, the ingredient costs are pretty high - out of whack with the margins restaurants normally operate, which means that while minibar may cover their expenses, they don't necessarily generate profit.

And this is kinda reflected in the minibar itself. The immersion circulator they're using is old and crusted with mineral deposits. The workspace itself is made up of haphazard remnants of underbar equipment, including an old, beat up glass washer. They're using electric hot plates instead of the now chic induction. After hearing so much about the food, I had expected minibar to be outfitted slick and beautiful. Like a mini Alinea or per se. Instead, the chefs were making do with cutting boards stacked on bus tubs, stacked on boxes that are stacked on equipment stands.

They may be using wild chemicals to create the cuisine and have a PacoJet stashed in a cabinet, but outside of the patina'd All Clan stainless saute pans, minibar is decidedly lowbrow in its' equipment and setup. While this may seem like an indictment of minibar, it's not. When you see and experience the cuisine at minibar, you really can't believe they're doing all of that with such equipment. It proves you don't have to have the fanciest of gear to produce truly excellent food.


Beet "Tumbleweed"

I arrived at Cafe Atlantico at least a half hour early because one never knows how the traffic between Baltimore and Washington DC will flow in the evenings. Sometimes it's smooth sailing. Other times, you're dead. Happily, this trip was the former. The hostesses greeted me then led me to the bar to cool my jets where I started off with "A New Americano" - touting itself as "A new all-American twist on Barack Obama's Favorite Cocktail 'The Americano.'" I had never heard of it, so I was game.

This is where it started. It was now 8pm and I hadn't eaten since 2pm. I was hungry. My stomach was empty. Perhaps this was not the time to consume a beverage of gin, vermouth and campari. By the time we headed upstairs, I was feeling it.

Our servers' name was Dan but for the life of me, I don't know why we would need a server at minibar. It's extraneous and a waste. To be quite frank, the presence of a server did nothing to enhance the experience. His interaction was limited to greeting us at the bar, giving us the wine menu, taking our wine order, pouring the wines and clearing plates as we ate and collecting the bill (with tip) at the end. I paid a $45 tip to a guy who really didn't do much of anything all night. As I drove home later, I couldn't help but think that this guy, who did practically nothing except stand there all night doing not much of anything just made a $45 tip from me while everyone else did the work.

An evening at minibar means you're interacting with the chefs preparing your meal. They're telling you how things were made, describing the dishes and serving them to you. All you really need is a busser to clear the plates, reset silverware and pour wine. While I never confirmed it, I certainly hope that the chefs got a cut of my tip 'cause they did all the work.


"Mojito"

When it comes to imbibing at minibar, there are several options: wines by the glass, wines in half bottles, wines in whole bottles and flights of wines, with the highlight of the flights being presented in their "Grand Progression - a tour highlighting selections from our extensive half-bottle collection." It cost $90 and I decided that I would go for it. These are the wines in order of presentation:

GASTON CHIQUET
Tradition Brut, Premier Cru
Dizy, France - Non-Vintage

NIGL
Gruner Veltliner Privat
Kremstal, Austria - 2007

QUPE
Marsanne/Roussanne Blend
Santa Ynez Valley, California 2007

MERRY EDWARDS
Pinot Noir
Russian River Valley, California 2006

ERRAZURIZ
Late Harvest Sauvignon Blanc
Casablanca Valley, Chile 2006

They were nice wines, but I really didn't fancy any of them. I tend to like big, fruity, oak-y wines. These may have been some great wines but I just wasn't into them that much. Sadly, it make me realize once again that maybe I really don't like wines with my meals. Maybe I just don't "get it." Maybe I'm just a charlatan. These were wine flights and not wine pairings, so they weren't designed to be perfect to any one dish, just a flight of wines and I'm just not feeling it.

I've only had one (maybe two) experiences where the wine paired brilliantly with the food. Usually, they're just there. Not necessarily clashing but not quite complimenting each other either. I've found greater joy in wine by ordering a bottle that I enjoy and drinking it through most or the entire meal. Forget the wine/red rules. Just drink what you enjoy and all is well.

Along with the wine was the choice of still, sparkling or iced water. Judging from the bill later, the latter must have been plain tap water because my water cost me six dollars. It wasn't bad nor too expensive but I always think it's not very clever to present water in this fashion - as though you're making a choice when really the server is steering you towards padding your bill (and their tip).


"Bagels and Lox"

The highlight of the minibar experience is the food and the presenting chefs. Ryan and Lyndon were great in preparing our meal, telling us about the dishes, answering our never-ending questions about the ingredients and techniques involved. The stuff they're doing is absolutely amazing. It's technically brilliant. Like the carbonated mojito sphere - that's cool. Or the zucchini textures - wow.

The progression goes from the technically wild, like the parmesan "egg", to the relatively simple breaded cigala. Both of which were delicious and amazing to watch being created.

Which is how it goes at minibar. They prepare the dishes right in front of you. You see everything. From the prep to the cooking to the plating. For someone who's interested in this level of preparation, it's stunning. You want to burn the memory card on your camera using the video mode. You wish you had a video camera - or at least audio recorder. The amount of information on everything that these guys are willing to share is massive.


"Dragon's Breath" Popcorn

Just from chatting with them, I sense that they share the same sensibilities as many of my friends and peers: there are no secrets. They engaged in open discussion about everything. Ask them about technique and they tell you. How long do you bathe the sphere in the chloride bath? One minute. And then they tell you what happens if you hold it longer, or too long.

Within the group, there's an open dialogue. A dialogue that, ostensibly, extends itself from the minibar to the larger world of cuisine where they discuss trials and techniques with Grant Achatz of Alinea, or Wylie Dufresne of WD-50, all the way to the Grand Master himself: Ferran Adria of El Bulli. Oooh. Aaaah. Of course, there's the stories about that guy from Moto in Chicago who won't talk to anyone, where everything is a secret and people have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before stepping into Moto's kitchen under penalty of civil lawsuit. Sounds like a friendly guy, that one.


"Cornbread"

Our meal was comprised of twenty-six courses. Some really fantastic (like the cigala), some really cool ("Dragon's Breath" Popcorn), and others were just not to my tastes (New England Clam Chowder). In fact, I really disliked the clam chowder. There was something about the flavor of the clam that just turned me off and stayed on my palate for quite a while. Unpleasant would be the best description.

Of course, in 26 courses, not all of them can be perfect. There will be courses you hate (like the clam chowder). That should be expected since you're pushing the boundaries.


Steamed Brioche Bun with Osetra Caviar

I really enjoyed the Beet "Tumbleweed", "Bagels and Lox" and "Dragon's Breath" Popcorn. The tumbleweed was essentially a friend ball of beet string. Fantastic. Bagels and lox was very reminiscent of Thomas Kellers' amuse bouche at both The French Laundry and per se, though I have to say that the salmon roe used at minibar was so vibrant and full of flavor that it really did the trick. Dragon's Breath was just cool. A cake of popcorn dipped in liquid nitrogen so that while you ate it, chilled "smoke" would emanate from your mouth and/or nose.

For me, the steamed brioche bun was slightly sweet and pillowy soft. It reminded me of a rather expensive sio pao, and being topped with osetra caviar reminded me of that extravagant weekend in Moscow a year ago. The cornbread was pretty good but it tasted so strongly of roasted cornnuts that it overwhelmed any connection to actual cornbread. Not to say that it was bad, it just didn't connect as strongly - even though I loved eating CornNuts as a child.


Boneless Chicken Wing


Blue Cheese and Almond


Cotton Candy Eel

When you see them start to spin the little tub contraption, you wonder what is going on? There's some nice slices of eel. He's taking some shiso leaf and adding thin slices of cucumber and pickled ginger but what is with the tub? Once he wraps the eel with the leaf and sauce, he plunges it (along with his hand) into the spinning tub and out comes a cotton candy coated eel. Lovely. I really like roasted eel in a soy based sauce but wrapped in cotton candy is just wild.


"Sun Dried" Tomato Salad

I found the "sun dried tomatoes" in the salad to be just fantastic. They basically take tomato juice, make it into spheres and then dehydrate to create a pseudo sun dried tomato. Very cool. The Zucchini in Textures had to be one of my favorite dishes of the evening. Puree of zucchini at the bottom, stewed zucchini seeds and a top layer of gelatinized zucchini juice. Wonderful. The flavors were nice but the textures were so dramatic. Well played guys, well played.


Zucchini in Textures


"Caesar Salad"


Parmesan "Egg" with Migas

One of the most powerful presentations was the parmesan "egg". I believe it was poached egg yolk enrobed in a parmesan, egg white mixture that encapsulated the yolk. Brilliant. Someday, I want to rip that idea off of these guys. Maybe they'll share with me their technique. It would be a great homage to them. The "guacamole" was interesting with a tomato sorbet wrapped by avocado slices but it just didn't have enough "pop" to connect me with real guacamole. I like boldly seasoned guacamole - let the salt, lime, cilantro and peppers flow, baby - and this interpretation just didn't catch me.


Smoked Oysters with Apples and Juniper


"Guacamole"


Salmon-Pineapple "Ravioli" with Crispy Quinoa


New England Clam Chowder

As I said earlier, it was the clam chowder that I couldn't connect with. Just something about that clammy, briny flavor that I just didn't like. While I love raw oysters, I don't think I'm a raw clam fan, and this dish just didn't click with me. The smoked oyster was nice with the apple and juniper but it definitely wasn't a strong player in the presentation.


Breaded Cigala with Sea Salad

After two courses of rocky dishes, they sprung back with a monster: the breaded cigala was killer. Prepared oh so simply with a little breading and sauteed in olive oil, it was smashing - and it was the most traditionally prepared method of all the dishes. Just simple and stellar ingredients to mark the hallmark course of the evening.


"Philly Cheesesteak"


Kumquats and Pumpkin Seed Oil

Our "Pre-Dessert" course of kumquats and pumpkin seed oil was captivating to watch them prepare. Alternating circles of pumpkin oil and kumquat puree dotted with candied pumpkin seed, centered around a kumquat filled with kumquat sorbet. Nice idea, nice execution and the tartness of the dish prepared the palate for the sweet courses to come.

The first dessert course, Thai Dessert, was a mixture of peanuts and curry and ice cream. It captured the main flavor elements of a well-made Pad Thai: peanuts, curry, cilantro. I almost thought I was eating a sweet Pad Thai. It was very good.

Thai Dessert


Frozen Yogurt and Honey

The next course was a technical stunner. Evidently, if you balance the water and fat ratio in yogurt, freeze it and then spin it in a PacoJet (doesn't everyone have these in their kitchen?) you can create a frozen powder. Take that frozen powder and heap it with a powdered honey from Ferran Adria and you've got a truly space-age dessert. It's kind of like NASA freeze-dried ice cream meets El Bulli. Tantalizing on your tongue but you better hurry because the yogurt will thaw into liquid form.


Mango Box, Saffron Gumdrop with Edible Wrapper and Chocolate Covered Corn Nuts.


Brewed coffee - can you spell B-O-R-I-N-G?

The final course of the night was a trio of chocolate covered corn nuts (curious), saffron gumdrop wrapped in edible paper (cool) and a mango box (good). This was served along with rather unremarkable coffee. Actually, I had a choice between regular (or decaf) coffee and espresso. I chose the former since I figured I would be gambling less. Sadly, the coffee was unremarkable and not worth the three dollar charge.

Maybe I shouldn't complain. Maybe I should just be thankful. But really, serving such lackluster quality after presenting thoughtful, locally sourced cocktails and exquisite food is just insulting. Why not toss a McDonald's cheeseburger as a minibar course? Sounds ludicrous, doesn't it? But dropping coffee this plain and lame is akin to doing just that.

Three dollars....please... My dad can brew better coffee than this - and he likes Taster's Choice.


Breaking my heart. And the bank.

And that was it. My entire minibar experience was wrapped in an egg - that they crushed in front of you with a big BAM! Inside the egg was The Bill. Time for The Reckoning.

So, how much did this gastronomic escapade cost me? Curiously, there is a thread on egullet.com where a reader was asking people how much it really costs to eat at these kinds of places. Sure, the menu says $120, but how much does it really cost after adding everything together? Can you truly get away eating (relatively) cheaply? Yes and No.


The Bill.

Here's the breakdown:

minibar Tasting $120.00
Nuevo American cocktail $ 12.00
Grand Procession Wine $ 90.00
Still Water $ 6.00
Coffee $ 3.00
DC Tax $ 23.10
Tip- 18% $ 45.00

TOTAL $299.10

Three hundred dollars for the meal at minibar. It's not cheap but it's not as expensive as some other places I've eaten. Though I'm still confounded by why they need a server for the minibar. Let the cooks and bussers handle it. Let them earn the tips. They're the ones doing all the work.


Lyndon and Ryan bid a fond adieu.

Let's do the math. Let's pretend that twelve people come in for the minibar experience and only pay $120 per person. That's revenue of $1,440 per night. If they tipped out just the minimum amount of 15%, that would be $216 in tips. Even with a five percent tip out ($11) for the bussers, they're still going home with a minimum of $205 a night. Not bad for just hanging out in the background while the chefs engage the customers the entire time.

Consider that my bill was more than twice that and that most people eating at minibar will spend more than $120 per person and you can see that as a minibar server you can make a good amount of cash for doing very little. Which is why I think they should eliminate the minibar server and let the bussers and chefs keep the tips.

I'll probably get hate mail from servers because of this but that's my observation and I'm sticking with it.

Now that you know the cost, you're probably wondering if it was worth it. Again, my answer is: Yes and No. Actually, there is no "no" answer. Only yes. It's worth it for the experience. To see the cutting edge of cuisine presented in a way that you wouldn't experience at places like Alinea or El Bulli. The chefs are right there, in front of you. You watch them prepare and create your courses. You can ask them questions and they'll tell you just about everything you need to know to mimic the technique at home - even down to the length of time they steep the encapsulation in the chloride.

It's an opportunity to see what you would never see anywhere else and to try new flavors and textures that you wouldn't be able to try in the majority of restaurants worldwide, which makes it so worth the money. In fact, it's relatively so cheap that it makes the rest look like robbers. Of course, one should remember that minibar doesn't really make a profit and that Jose Andres is offering the experience essentially at cost because his restaurant empire supports this expression of his cuisine. The other places do this on a restaurant scale and, therefore, have to charge more to recoup their costs and make money.

A fun story the chefs related to us is that since minibar doesn't turn a profit, they don't always get the latest and greatest equipment and often have to resort to raiding the kitchens of Andres' other restaurants for certain supplies when necessary.

My problem with meals like this is that they're technically brilliant and I learn and experience so much from just eating there, asking questions, and observing, Friends ask me if it was "good" and certainly it was - in fact, it's brilliant. However, it's just not "nourishing." It satisfies my soul and my desire to expand my craft, but it doesn't nourish my soul. It's like dating an incredibly hot model but having no internal connection. Beautiful. Stunning. Your friends envy you. But it's still hollow. You're left unfulfilled on a certain level. That's how I feel after eating these brilliant meals.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not bashing. I love what they do and I'll continue to eat and explore similar restaurants, but is this the level of cuisine that I want to pursue? Maybe. Years ago, I thought this was the level of coffee I wanted to present. Now, I'm not so sure. There's a gut connection that I feel is missing. I want there to be a link between the amazing and fascinating to the fulfilling and nourishing to the soul.

Thanks guys, I had a great time.


minibar
Cafe Atlantico
405 8th Street NW
Washington, DC 20004
202-393-0812
www.cafeatlantico.com

Pittsburgh: Dinette

Kitchen as theatre at The Dinette.

The Dinette.

Ask "in the know" Pittsburgh people where to go for great food and The Dinette is a new choice amongst a surprising number in this old steel city.

Just don't ask them how to find it.


Isaiah can't believe his food disappeared.

There we were. Myself and Troy Reynard (owner of Cosmic Cup Coffee), in our own vehicles, following Rich Westerfields' (owner of Aldo Coffee) Volvo in circles around Penn Circle. Around and around we went. Somewhere in the north part of the circle is this darned Dinette. It was getting late, we were hungry and the Dinette is supposed to close at 11pm. It was 10:37. Crap. C'mon!

Punch in the name into my trusty iPhone and we've got an address. Okay, we find the address but can't find the restaurant. Where is this damned place? There's a Whole Foods, a Borders Books and that's about it. The address is right, but no Dinette.


Rich and Troy contemplate pizza.

A quick query to a girl walking to her car points us to the upper deck of this multi-level shopping complex. We kick it into gear and drive up the ramp to find more shops but still no Dinette. WTF? We park anyway.

Good thing we did, because as soon as we get out of the cars and start asking ourselves where this place is, we see it. It's right there, with a big white neon sign reading "Dinette." Finally!


Celebratory espresso, a bit flat.

The night before we had been turned away from Bona Terra because we got there too close to the kitchen closing (9:30p), I didn't want to be turned away from the Dinette tonight. As we entered, I noticed some of the line cooks wrapping their hotel pans in plastic wrap (that usually doesn't bode well), but they were more than happy to accommodate our table of five.


Marinated Olives

The Dinette is decidedly modern. It's bright, it's white, it's orange and filled with stainless. For whatever reason, it reminds me of the Top Chef Cookbook, or maybe what the Mode Magazine kitchen would look like on Ugly Betty. Either way, it's hip, cool and comfortable.

Sometimes you wonder if these kinds of hip and happening places are just going to hit you with more hipster pretense and attitude. I get enough of that in the coffee world, I certainly don't need it when I go out to eat. Luckily, our server is cool, friendly and helpful. There's no pretense or attitude here.


Mixed Salumi - Cacciatorino, Hot Veneto and Rustico.

Spike and Isaiah arrive from the airport and it's time to get down to business. While Spike ponders the wine list, eventually selecting the 2005 Irouleguy from Domaine Etxegaraya in France, Isaiah pays homage to the coffee professionals by ordering a round of espressos for the entire table. It's a sincere gesture but the espresso is a bit flat.


Fritto Misto with wild-caught shrimp, cauliflower, onions and salsa verde.

The beauty of going out to eat with like-minded friends is that you can order an entire menu's worth of food, everyone can have a taste and no one needs to leave feeling bloated. Mind you, I said "like-minded friends" because I have friends that aren't into the "let's share and taste everything" meal plan. To be honest, eating just isn't as fun with those friends.

At least they're not as bad as some people. I've seen an entire table of diners at Chinese restaurants each ordering the House Special Fried Rice as though it were a meal. Odd.


Farro Salad - grilled chicories, butternut squash, walnuts and sherry vinaigrette.

Happily, our group of coffee and food professionals are game for just about anything and the madness begins. So much on this menu looks so tasty. How does one limit themselves to a starter and a main? It seems inhumane.


Beef Carpaccio - celeriac remoulade, baby beets, mache, dijon vinaigrette.

Straightaway we're firing off our entry round, but not before our server tells us that they are out of the steamed mussels. Dammit, we're leaving!

Well, maybe not. I don't think we can hack another night of Primanti Brothers again.


Fingerlings - chevre, sunny-side up egg, lardons, chives, mozzarella.

First up are the Marinated Olives. Truth be told, I've never liked olives. I always thought they were gross and disgusting. But over the past two years, I've come to really enjoy them. I can now eat them like candy. These olives are lightly dressed in oil and are of several varieties - though I'm not versed enough to tell you the difference. They range from very salty to lightly salty but all full of flavor. I'm discovering though that I enjoy the thick, green olives that you bite partially because they're so big. They've got a meaty texture that I love and a light saltiness to them. Give me more.


Prosciutto - arugula, parmigiano reggiano, mozzarella, tomato.


Radicchio - red onions, pancetta, mozzarella, tomato.

The mixed salumi plate arrives and it's nicely done. Evidently, the salumi is prepared by a local butcher. I like dried, cured and salted meats. I don't know which is which but they are tasty.

Fritto Misto is an interesting dish. One that I've had at various restaurants across America and it's always interesting to taste the interpretations. Dinette's version is lightly battered, crispy and light. The cauliflower is cut like cakes and I dig them. It's like Italian style tempura.


Onions - salt-cured anchovies, nicoise olives, rosemary, mozzarella.

Each of us ordered our own pizzas. Rich hit it off right away with his choice of the Fingerlings pizza with egg. Darn it, I love eggs on my pizza, but I didn't want to order the same thing. Our server suggested the Radicchio pizza instead. Could I have that with an egg? No, the chef doesn't allow compromises to her food. Damn, I like this place already.

The beef carpaccio and farro salad arrived, both were really well done. There's something strangely odd about the farro that I really like. Grains and veggies, I dig it.


Little Neck Clams - salmoriglio, mozzarella, tomato.

We went whole hog. Soon the pizzas were flowing to the table in an endless stream of crispy dough and a variety of toppings. Since there were so many pizzas and so many of us, we just passed everything around, letting everyone have a slice (or two) of each pizza. Nothing was mediocre. All of it was delicious. My radicchio was delicious with the flavors of the cheese offset by the mild bitterness of the radicchio. Rich's egg pizza was luxurious. And I just loved the clams on Troy's pizza.

We ate, and ate, and drank and drank. Five pizzas and four bottles of wine. By the end of the meal, we were quite happy indeed. The food was great. The staff was great. It was just a fun time.

Then we headed to the Sharp Edge for more consumption. Not good.


Troy ready to continue the onslaught at Sharp Edge.


Dinette
5996 Penn Circle South
Pittsburgh, PA 15206
412-362-0202
www.dinette-pgh.com

Daddy's Mistake

Daddy's Mistake 2009

This is a dish from my youth. I don't know how it started but I vividly remember eating this many times. It's called "Daddy's Mistake" because I think my dad made a mistake while making it when we were young. It's simple, Filipino-immigrant food. The kind of food we ate when my family was still new to America and trying to make ends meet.

Back in those days, I remember eating a lot of Vienna Sausages, Spam, simple Filipino foods and rice. Steak was an uncommon and celebratory occasion. Both my parents worked all day and all night so our time together was limited to just a couple hours in the evening after coming home from the babysitter before bed and the hour or so in the morning before we were dropped off at school. We weren't latch-key kids, we were the children of Asian immigrants who were working hard to forge a new future in an America at the tail end of the Vietnam War.

Making Daddy's Mistake is pretty simple. Take Hormel Spam and slice it. My dad always cut it in 1/8" slices from the loaf but I've come to love paper thin slices fried to a crisp. If using the thicker slices, pan fry and crisp the sides. It makes for a better eating experience.

In the 1970s, Spam came in one flavor. There was none of this "low sodium" Spam or Tabasco-infused Spam (like in Guam). No cheese-injected Spam. Just plain, old, salty Spam. Certainly, the chemicals, sodium and binding agents in Spam can't be good for you but it can be good. Just slice and fry away to salty, porky goodness.

From there, you simply fry two sunny-side-up eggs, put them on top of a mound of hot, steamed white rice, add the slices of Spam on the side and serve with ketchup. To eat, you slather the ketchup on the eggs, break the yolks and mix the eggs, egg yolks, ketchup and rice together until you get a nice pile of yellow-red rice (think saffron colored). Maybe a little salt and pepper for flavor, or a little Tabasco for spice and go to town.

Send me a picture of you eating your version of Daddy's Mistake and I'll post it to the blog!

The New York Sun???

Since The Spro is located inside a public library, there are always newspapers, magazines and books lying around. Last week, when I came in to check on the girls, I noticed a paper sitting on the counter and started reading it.

Inside was a review about a new restaurant that is located in Manhattan. Why is the Baltimore Sun doing an article about a New York restaurant? What about hometown restaurants?" I chalked it up as being "typical" of The Sun.

As I continued reading through the paper, I started to think: "Man, The Sun's writing certainly has improved." The writing was vastly superior to the elementary-level prose I'm used to reading in the paper. I couldn't believe that our hometown paper was improving itself.

That's when the situation hit an alarm in my head and I went back to look at the masthead. It read:

The New York Times

Pittsburgh: Mid-Atlantic Regionals

Rich Westerfield's interpretation of a Primanti Brothers sandwich. Savory.

Barista competitions are strange, but interesting slices of a life in coffee. Gather a bunch of really geeky coffee people and let them do their thing for a couple of days. It's simple and relatively harmless fun that's usually done outside of the public eye.

When you really get into the competition scene, you invariably end up asking yourself, at some point in time, why? Why am I involved with this group of strange, odd and sometimes egotistical and selfish group of narcissists? Am I a self-loathing, egotistical and selfish narcissist as well?


The ingredients in Amber Sather's "a signature drink in two ways."

I was reminded why I got involved with this scene on Friday morning.

For the past couple of weeks, I've been helping Allie Caran, former Artifact Coffee slash former Spro and current Woodberry Kitchen barista, prepare for the Mid-Atlantic Regional Barista Competition. We didn't do heavy, hard-core trainings. Just casual, relaxed and brief sessions that were more about getting into the right mindset about competing (i.e. not like some former champions) and what she wanted to achieve.


Jeremy Sterner's winning Latte Art Throwdown pour.

Whenever I help someone prepare, it's less about my beliefs in competition and more about developing a method for the barista's personal philosophies. What is the goal? Is it win at all costs like some competitors and companies? If that's the case, I'm not the right person for that job. But if the message is to share knowledge and passion while performing at the best level possible then I'm interested. Hell, I'm downright excited. I'm tired of all the BS politics that goes on within the coffee business. I left the Hollywood system to get away from that.


Handmade wooden belt buckle.

Friday morning was the competitors meeting. After a quick (or not so quick) mile on the treadmill, I head down to the competition space to meet Allie and sit in on the meeting. Outside of the space is the "fourth machine", that extra espresso machine set up so that the public can get a taste for some of the coffees being made in the competition. Working on that machine is Allie, Nikolas and a couple of other first-time baristas. They're going over the Nuova Simonelli Aurelia espresso machine, comparing notes, sharing stories and sharing knowledge and the fact that this is their first time and they're scared shitless.

I hung back for a moment before approaching because I was savoring the moment. A new generation of competition-slash-barista professionals is upon us. These three were a sampling of the next generation in coffee. A new group of baristas who will spend the next few years making and building their reputations. It brought back good memories.


Oranges in the mist.

It was exactly five years ago that I started out in the competition-slash-Third Wave scene. 2004. Daryn Berlin and I shared a table in Atlanta during the USBC. Andy Newbom was some wild-haired blonde guy who kept babbling on about his latest coffee experiment. Sandy Hon busied herself trying to keep everyone from going in sixty different directions. Amber Sather seemed hell-bent on driving everywhere in Intelligentsia's VW Bug. Phuong Tran still had short hair (though it had a slight bob to it). Miguel Meza was that quirky guy from Prince's hometown. Bronwen was still the same. And there was that crazy Korean guy driving all over Atlanta in a yellow Mustang convertible.


A Fozzy-looking Daryn Berlin getting wild.

Those were good times and it's amazing how things have changed. As I watched Allie and her new friends, I realized that they were us just a few years ago and I wondered where they would all be in the coffee world in five years.

The competition itself was good. Once again, they worked it as a Mid-Atlantic/Northeast regional, holding both competitions concurrently, sharing the space. The host company, Kiva Han Coffee, did a great job staging the competition at the Marriott North hotel outside of Pittsburgh. Through advertising and developing a consumer coffee and food tasting event with the competition, they attracted a large group of regular (non-coffee professional) people attending the event and watching the competition. The crowds were larger than we've seen at the United States Barista Championships - at that one usually has a coffee trade show attached to it. Telling indeed.


The new Coffee Lord of Washington DC: Ryan Jensen.

Since it was her first time, Allie was nervous. Down right scared, to be honest. But she's a skilled barista with a great personality and a passion for the craft. The hard part was getting her over the nerves and the unknown having never competed before.

In the end, I think she performed brilliantly. She was nervous. She was scared. She let it show. She was visibly intimidated by the judges and the experience. During our practice session, I remember thinking that she's either going to perform brilliantly or go down in a ball of flames. There would be no middle ground. It wouldn't be one of those boring, droll presentations featuring memorized and recited lines. It would be dynamic, fun and interesting - or a complete and utter disaster.


Working the hotel room meth lab.

While I'm typically a blunt and straightforward kind of person, I almost never tip my hand when I'm thinking thoughts like these. I don't want to place the cloud of question in anyones' mind. We keep moving forward. We keep working towards our goal. For me, the goal isn't to win. It's to show and show well. Share the knowledge of the ingredients and share the passion for our craft. I think Allie's goals are aligned with my own in many ways, which makes it wholly rewarding to work with her.

All barista competitors are nervous when they take the stage. I know I am. The moment she started, it was full speed ahead. Great enthusiasm, great passion and great personality. It just shows. It comes through. And it's not something you can teach or coach - it has to be there naturally. It's so common to watch a barista competition and all of it sounds scripted and rehearsed.


The last moments before the Finals.

During her presentation, she dove right in. Then the nervousness built to a crescendo and she had to take a moment to compose herself, commenting "I can do this" before pulling herself together and pushing forward. It's surprising. It's unexpected. It's honest - and that's endearing to both the judges and the audience. It's also the sphincter moment because you really don't know if she's going to make it or if this is her last stand - and we're only a minute and twenty seconds into the presentation!


MARBC Finalists await their fate.

But she did fine. She pulled through and performed brilliantly.

And in the end, she made it into the finals and took fifth place against the most seasoned and experienced competitors in the region. Not bad for your first outing.



Cascara-infused pop rocks wrapped in edible cascara film.



The wait.



Showtime. Allie describes the components of the signature drink.



Explaining the signature drink to a record audience.



Post performance glow.

Lobster Du Jour, Part Two

Pouring the new mix into the espresso.

The pursuit of lobster continues. This time without the drama of death and destruction.

At Alex's suggestion, I'm adding white chocolate to the base mix in low percentages to smoothen out the flavors. Ran four variants, all with surprising results. By doing so, I'm noticing really wonderful cocoa butter aromatics mingling with the lobster and coffee. The flavors are definitely smoothening out and are better defined on the palate. The lobster is lingering and pleasant and the bitterness of the coffee is muted.

I think we're definitely headed in the right direction. Next to find the right garnishes and service ware.


Pulling the espresso into a mix variant.


A sampling in an oval service piece.