Iron Chef Battle Vegan

Every time I watch Iron Chef, I'm kinda hoping to see "the Chairman" announce the main ingredient as "no animal products may be used in this meal." If you're thinking that would be a nightmare to cook (or to eat), then I've got my work cut out for me in writing this post. From my point of view, dietary limitations should be a welcome challenge for any chef (especially at home chefs), a true test of knowledge and skill (and maybe understanding of ethical and health concerns). For a good cook, vegetarian fare should inspire creativity and a deeper appreciation for the delicious attributes of natural non-sentient ingredients. In other words, if bacon is the go-to ingredient for flavor and texture, that's a one trick pony approach to cooking that neglects a whole world of flavors.

When I toyed with veganism from 1999-2003, I put loads of energy into the popular reenactments of non-vegan staples: nutritional yeast mac'n'cheese, portobello stroganoff, liquid smoke accented collard greens, tempeh chicken salad, etc. Truth be told, I can make all of these look and taste beautifully (so that only the finickiest eaters would turn up their noses). But, I'm left with the nagging suspicion that a truly great cook could do so much more within the confines of a diet free of animal products. Sure, it's not hard to point to the really energetic vegan cookbook authors, and right here in Richmond there are some great veggie meals to be had (did I mention how much I love Ipanema Cafe and Harrison Street Coffee Shop?). But, wouldn't Eric Ripert or Thomas Keller make all of them look like amateurs, even with one arm tied behind their back? Well, now we know the truth...

Great Chefs Cook Vegan , by Linda Long

No they don't (but for this book, they did). Great chefs don't usually cook vegan. In fact, more often than not, most chefs with a household name love to talk trash about vegetarians, and they really tear into the vegans. It's too bad. What is the threat? I mean, who's afraid of an emaciated hippy? (I'm kidding. Vegans come in all shapes/sizes/stereotypes) I've long believed that vegan cuisine offers a challenge to cooks that forces the imagination into new territory because they have to go forth without the crutch of bacon or fish sauce or chicken stock, etc. Maybe that's it: insecurity. Great chefs, please break free from the link sausage chains that bind you and show the public what is possible with non-animal ingredients. You all are the experts, now prove it. Maybe then, vegans can stop ordering bean burritos without cheese from Taco Bell.

Personally, I'm hoping the best cooks in the world will write the ten commandments of vegan cooking and hand them to Anthony Bourdain so he can promulgate the "the Word" to the people (wouldn't that be some deliciously ironic justice?). This book is not written with that kind of goal (reparation for animal exploitation and needless suffering, clogged arteries, and environmental destruction, etc). The author of this book was a photographer for the Vegetarian Journal magazine. If you're not familiar with it, they've really got a lot of integrity, taking no ads, and generally trying to educate the public. That's a good sign, in my view.

The author, it seems, really likes expensive restaurants (or has money to burn) and did loads of leg work making special dietary requests of the chefs at 4 and 5 star restaurants all over the country. The result is a beautifully photographed book, featuring 3-4 courses from 25 different famous chefs. Overall, Great Chefs Cook Vegan will be fairly inaccessible to regular folk who'd like to learn how elite cooks approach meat/dairy/egg free food. For me, the story in the 2-page introduction is more insightful that the three hundred pages of recipes, but I haven't spent much time with the book yet. Upon first glance, it's some really pretentious grub intended to look at home next to Iron Chef-style dishes like truffled foie gras and sea urchin soup vessels. But, what should I expect, but some slight of hand tricks from the culinary equivalent of Sigrid and Roy? (slight of hand implies quickness, when in fact, these are labor intensive recipes that seem to revolve around cauliflower and lean toward side-dishiness)

If you're a fan of any of these top-notch chefs, you'll want to know what they elected to make for this book and how they made it. Well, aside from a full page bio for each chef, there's scarcely more than a sentence from each on the topic of vegan cooking, and not a word about their inspiration or thought process for each of their recipes. Hey! If you're so great, how about a little insight? I'm hoping that closer inspection will reveal some tricks of the trade that home cooks can bust out when working with veggies. But, for the meantime, the stars are these: Thomas Keller, Jean-George Vongerichten, Eric Ripert, Charlie Trotter, Alex Stratta, Anne Quatrano, Cat Cora, Daniel Boulud, David Burke, Gabriel Kreuther, Josef Huber, Jose Andres, Marcus Samuelsson, Matthew Kenney, Michel Nischan, Suzanne Goin, Todd English.

Great Cooks Matter

While I do my best to form a more informed opinion about Great Chefs Cook Vegan, I want to bring your attention toward a food world revolution that may actually touch the lives of more than just the upper crust diners who call ahead to The Inn at Little Washington to order a vegan meal. Around the same time that I picked up this book, I also got my hands on How to Cook Everything Vegetarian by Mark Bittman. Not only did Bittman drop this thousand page kitchen bible to rival his version intended for omnivores, he's now promoting a vegan until dinner diet for a healthier lifestyle and planet (see his video excerpt below). The guy is a cooking guru and now he's busting out a thoughtful critique of the world around him, including his past work and ideals. In fact, more and more people are looking for ways to eat less meat, sourcing local ingredients for their homemade meals, and then there's that whole eco-green priority that's showing up on grocery store shelves. Truly great cooks are helping us make sense of our diets with these things in mind.

Tune in next time for part two, where I'll talk about some of my favorite vegetarian cookbooks and maybe some social commentary to boot.

Sunday Brunch at Cirrus Taken Too Seriously

I should have written about Cirrus at Allen and Main before having brunch there. I would have talked of the chic interior, homemade biscuits and vegetarian white gravy, and moderate entrée prices. These points still make up the bulk of my story and will probably bring me back to eat there again. But, after my Sunday brunch at experience, my Cirrus sales pitch comes with some disclaimers, and now I’ve got my fingers crossed that Cirrus’ potential and obvious good ideas will turn into a great eatery.

First off, I want to fess up that I’m somewhat biased in favor of any restaurant at Allen and Main. My first Richmond apartment was right across the street ten years ago, and my wife and I celebrated our engagement at Dogwood Grille (RIP), the space’s previous occupant. Also, it’s within walking distance of my house in Byrd Park. Lastly, and for the record, the good folks at Cirrus have enabled me to write about one of my favorite foods of all time: biscuits and "sausage" gravy. And for that, they'll always have a place in my heart.

For these reasons, I was excited when I saw the brunch menu in the window at Cirrus. Seeing the vegetarian biscuits and gravy on the menu put a trip to Cirrus at the top of my priority list. (Well, that and the allure of reasonably priced entrees, with an modern black/white backdrop.) Surely, this place was going to be a hipster brunch destination. That said, I want to acknowledge that you really can’t judge a restaurant by it’s brunch service. The head chef is rarely on duty weekend mornings and the dishes don’t usually receive the attention that you’ll find on the dinner menu (aside from Millies, of course). So, please take this review for what it is: a story of brunch, over scrutinized.

Considering that Style Weekly had just posted dueling reviews (both relatively positive), I was sure that Cirrus would be crammed with people enjoying a holiday weekend indulgence by going out to brunch. We walked up to the place at 11:20am, but were the first customers of the day. Inside, we sat in the two-tone dining room feeling kind of awkward and receiving loads of friendly attention from our server. My wife loved the interior design, but I would describe it as severe and cold (not that there’s anything wrong with that). I kept wondering if I had anything in my wardrobe that would disguise my crunchy granola look and help me fit in with the austere environment. Nonetheless, the shimmering pendant lights and matte silver and white sconces are touches that deserve to be seen by everyone, regardless of your attire. Hopefully, they’ll complete their design by painting or replacing the wood grain entrance, which sticks out like a sore thumb.

At first, I was worried about the brunch menu because there was no mention of sides. Would a plate of quiche, or eggs and bacon come unaccompanied, like at Can Can? Paying extra for must-have elements is a major pet peeve for me. Luckily, everything comes with homefries (except for the breakfast pizza, which sounded so decadent that you wouldn’t want anything more).

My wife ordered eggs benedict (we'll address my dish in a minute). When our respective plates arrived, I was alarmed at the whiteness of the home fries, so I rushed to put one in my mouth before the server left. Yup. Raw potatoes. Some feint skillet marks could be seen on a few of he diced spuds, but most of them actually crunched like apples. For the rest of the meal, we were showered with apologies. We laughed it off. "Hey, at least we know they’re fresh, right?” was all I could muster. Potatoes take time, so one would think that an 11am brunch opening would have given them time to prep the side dish that accompanies every breakfast item on the menu.

The potato mistake turned out to be a good thing, actually, because they quickly brought out some potatoes wedges and thin cut sweet potato fries. Both were seasoned heavily and put smiles on our faces. This was ironic, because the uncooked potatoes had next to no flavor, making me wonder if they would have been worth eating regardless. At any rate, they quickly brought Grey Poupon when I requested it for my sweet potato fries. This is a perfect combination, as I learned from years of eating at Ipanema Café. They should just bring a bottle of the stuff out with each sweet potato fry order to ensure that every diner experiences that revelatory flavor combination. The eggs benedict wasn't bad, with it’s perfectly poached egg and rich hollandaise. The only fault was the piled-on rough-cut ham, which, according to my wife, made the dish too salty. She just removed some of it and moved on.

Like clockwork, I ordered the vegetarian biscuits and (fake) sausage gravy. At this point, I should probably stop and explain my fixation with this dish. My parents have been ordering the real sausage stuff at diners and Denny’s since I was a kid. When I got serious about vegan cooking, I quickly learned that it is ridiculously easy to make tasty white gravy at home and then spike it with store bought fake meat (that link is the best recipe). When this gloppy goodness is served on top of fluffy biscuits, it’s the ultimate comfort food. My wife, who eats meat, loves my vegan version and frequently urges me to make it for her. For me, to have this brought to my table at an eatery just blocks from my home was a dream come true.

Well, almost. The version served at Cirrus featured some great homemade biscuits, but the gravy lacked the copious amounts of black pepper that gives white gravy it’s punch (and the charming black speckles in white sauce would fit the aesthetic of the Cirrus decor). Hopefully, they’ll refine their recipe in time, because I know that there is a constituency in Richmond that will beat a path to their door for good vegetarian biscuits and peppery (fake) sausage gravy. Okay, while I’m being a know-it-all critic, I’ll say that the barely flavored TVP that was added to the gravy needs to be replaced with commercially produced soy sausage (from Twin Oaks, Gimmelean, Morningstar Farms, etc.). Homemade “soysage” rarely packs the punch that puts this dish over the savory edge. Store-bought may be expensive, but it saves prep-time, and a little goes a long way in white gravy. Did I mention that constructive criticism is an act of love? I really feel like a heel for airing all of my pet peeves and smug suggestions. And in the end, flawed vegan biscuits and gravy is better than no vegan biscuits and gravy.

All in all, I’m excited about Cirrus, despite my complaints. All the indicators point to the probability that the details that I focused on were exceptions to the standard practice at Cirrus. Next time around, I’m going to try their dinner service where I've noticed more veggie options and I'll find something fashion forward to wear for the occasion.

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After reading this post, my wife informed me that a) Cirrus has brown and white interior and not black and white (more evidence that I'm going color blind) and b) that I went overboard with my dissection of the biscuits and gravy. Ya know what? She's right. The food at Cirrus all smacks of homemade goodness and care - undeserving of my anal-retentive vegan-nazi fundamentalism. Shit, I'm not even vegan anymore. My point is that the inspiration for my diatribe wasn't Cirrus' food, it was my adoration of the perfect batch of biscuits and gravy that exists in my mind. Sunday brunch was simply a convenient excuse to prattle on about one of my favorite foods.