A Culinary Adventure Down the Coast {Edible Monterey Bay}

This article is posted on the Edible Monterey Bay blog: here.

A transporting hike and brunch at Big Sur’s Restaurant at Ventana The third installment of Edible Monterey Bay’s pop-up series brought me, with a good friend and fellow foodie in tow, to the Ventana Inn and Spa for a hike and a brunch. What a thrill to head down the coast from Monterey on a soggy morning and find Ventana enveloped in a bubble of sunshine! Gathering in front of The Restaurant at Ventana, our group of culinary adventurers chatted amicably before heading off on a trail led by Stephen Copeland. A long-time Big Sur resident and owner of Big Sur Guides, Copeland—part naturalist and part local historian—egaled us with stories of Hatfield and McCoy-style feuds between Big Sur landowners and reminisced about Lolly Fassett who started the Nepenthe Restaurant after nurturing the local community nightly with her roasted chicken and stuffing. Copeland recounted that Orson Welles, from whom the Fassetts acquired the property in 1947, had purchased the original cabin, for his wife, Rita Hayworth, as a haven from Hollywood. Despite the seemingly endless views of the dramatic coastline in both directions, Hayworth purportedly declared: “Orson, this is so cute, but I will never spend the night here.” Whether she did or not, Copeland wasn’t sure, but he did know that a few years later the Fassetts bought the property from Welles and began the transformation into what Nepenthe is now, a Bohemian cliffside restaurant where both locals and tourists flock. Nepenthe, in Greek, means “that which chases away sorrow.” And it is aptly named. Just setting foot in that vibrant place makes you smile. As we wound along the trails, Copeland conducted what he jokingly called “Redwood 101.” He discussed the trees’ lateral and vertical growth. He talked about the faces in the bark. He told us how redwood trees reproduce, with the younger trees creating tight rings around their parents. Copeland explained how the Esalens and Salinans, the Native American tribes who called the area home, viewed the redwood family rings as sacred places. Circles of life. The tribes performed marriage rituals in the middle of these towering trees; they brought elders to the circles of life to die. At one point during the hike, our group stood in the center of one of these circles. Surrounded by sixteen giants, we inhaled the citrusy scent from the forest duff beneath our shoes and heard the energetic chirps of the wood sparrow. “Listen. If you come into the Ventana wilderness and you don’t hear that,” Copeland gestured towards the source of the noise, “leave. Leave quickly. It means there’s a predator nearby.” And with that caveat, we headed out of the redwood circle and toward the restaurant, comforted by the constant chirp, chirp, chirp of the birds. With stomachs rumbling and relaxed from the fresh air and sunshine, we were greeted by Kara Stout, Ventana’s Food and Beverage manager, who guided us to the patio. We settled beneath an arbor embraced by gnarled honeysuckle vines whose heady scent is stronger than you would expect from such wiry blossoms. Our first task: answer the question, “what would you like to drink?” I have to admit that I have never seen such a unique selection of brunch libations; I had a tough time deciding. There was, of course, the de rigueur bellini and ubiquitous mimosa. But it was the more innovative offerings that intrigued me. I vacillated between the St. Germain Royal—Roederer Brut with St. Germain elderflower liqueur, and a lime wheel—and the Hair of the Dog Punsch—lemon-infused Zaya rum with spiced black tea. In the end I opted for the Hair of the Dog Punsch; punsch—with its seemingly errant “s”—is not actually a typo. Punsch, Stout answered when I asked, derives from a northern European spelling of this cocktail that is served hot. Though I was initially reluctant to order it because rum cocktails are notoriously syrupy sweet, I couldn’t resist the name. The concoction turned out to be surprisingly spicy and slightly bitter. It was quite enjoyable but a vivid contrast to the chilled, effervescent St. Germain that I sampled by sneaking a sip from my friend’s champagne flute. After clinking our glasses amid celebratory toasts and well-wishes, we considered ten entrée offerings. Chef Truman Jones had fashioned a generous brunch menu with everything from chicken enchiladas to a classic Caesar salad and from homemade granola to a Big Sur burger. I ducked into the kitchen to snap some photos and inquired, casually, about the chef’s favorite. Eggs Benedict. That made my decision simple. It’s my favorite, too. Toasted English muffins were topped with steamed spinach and pillows of perfectly poached eggs. The applewood smoked pork loin was just crispy enough to lend texture to the mouthfeel yet soft enough to complement the silky eggs. And I was grateful that the hollandaise sauce added just the right amount of lemony flavor without drowning the dish. The Californian Salad was a green and orange confetti of golden beets, roasted asparagus, and orange segments tossed with crisp romaine leaves in a buttermilk ranch dressing and topped with toasted almonds and buttery avocado slices. Then there was comfort food at its best. The Shelton Farms Turkey Gravy Smothered Biscuits, first on the menu, looked positively decadent. I wasn’t familiar with Shelton Farms before this meal. A quick search showed me a company, run by three generations of the Flanagan family, whose website reads: “Our turkeys and chickens don’t do drugs.” I can certainly get behind a company whose philosophy is that their poultry – chickens, turkeys, and ducks – grow healthier when they are allowed to walk around in the open air and sunshine, free to scratch at the ground and peck away at whatever catches their fancy. While I didn’t taste any of the other entrées, our table was lined with empty plates, indicating that all were delectable. To say the view from The Restaurant at Ventana was breathtaking sounds needlessly hyperbolic. But I did—literally—catch my breath in awe when I looked up and down the coast from my seat on the terrace. Cloudless cerulean skies stretched in either direction as far as I could see. Stunning. Table chatter ran the gamut from local food events, including the recent Cooking for Solutions, to recipes or culinary processes. And we imagined how we could use the sprigs of California sage that Copeland had plucked from the bushes for us. I’m considering a roasted chicken with stuffing in Lolly Fassett’s honor. Leeks, celery, rye bread, California sage, and lots of butter. I have no idea if her stuffing used California sage, or not, but I know it will be a tasty reminder of this third installment of the pop-up series from Edible Monterey Bay. I’ll echo the sentiments printed at the bottom of our special menu: Thank you to Edible Monterey Bay. Yes, indeed, thank you! This was a truly enjoyable way to spend the morning…learning, imbibing, and feasting in one of the most scenic spots around.

Fêting the Reds at the Monterey Wine Festival {Edible Monterey Bay}

My piece about the Monterey Wine Festival went live on the Edible Monterey Bay blog this morning. Click here to go there. Or, read on...

Taste. Sip. Swirl. Enjoy. Those were the orders from California's longest-running wine festival, which celebrated its 36th anniversary this year.

The festivities at the Monterey Wine Festival kicked off on June 8 with a Friday evening event—“A Night to Celebrate Reds”—at Monterey State Historic Park’s Custom House Plaza and continued through the weekend with more food, more wine, and more fun, including the West Coast Chowder Competition and the Bartenders Fedora where local bartenders competed for the title of “best cocktail.”

While the festival does not come close to descending into bacchanalian madness, it is a celebration of the vine that would make Bacchus proud.

On Friday evening, when I attended, it was a celebration of red wines from more than twenty different vintners, hailing from all around the state. After waiting in line to enter the gated waterfront plaza, and then waiting in line to get my wine glass, I headed off to do as charged: taste, sip, swirl, and enjoy.

The featured reds ran the flavor-gamut from the accessible to the aggressive. Pelican Ranch Winery, from Capitola, poured a Pinot noir with subtle undercurrents of cherry while D & L Carinalli Vineyards, from Sebastopol, presented a smokier version of the same varietal. Pierce Ranch Vineyards, located between Bradley and Lockwood at the southernmost tip of Monterey County, offered a limited production Graciano with strong notes of blackberry and olallieberry. And Hollister’s Pietra Santa Winery put forward a plummy Vache.

TASTE

Festival attendees had the opportunity to taste not just wines but also edible morsels. Carmel’s Forge in the Forest offered platters of innovative treats such as sesame-encrusted seared ahi atop deep fried lotus root with a dot of wasabi cream. Columbus Salumeria, based in San Francisco, sliced up several varieties of its classic and artisan salumi. And, perhaps the busiest table in the plaza housed the Morro Bay Oyster Company, which was shucking and serving up its Pacific Gold oysters right next to KORBEL Champagne Cellars. Oysters and champagne. Yes, please! As busy as he was, Neal Maloney, the owner of the Morro Bay Oyster, took some time to chat with me.

Maloney founded his company in 2008 and has formed strong ties with local chefs, loading up his bounty each week and driving to provide numerous spots with hand- harvested oysters. He described his typical Thursday morning: at 7am, harvesting begins; by 9am, he’s loaded up, and until 3pm, he’s delivering to restaurants such as Lokal, in Carmel Valley, and Schooners Coastal Kitchen and Bar, on Cannery Row. The schedule is arduous, but it ensures that the oysters make it from bay to plate in less than twelve hours. And if there are any oysters that aren’t sold and served, Maloney retrieves them the following week, returning them to the bay where they are allowed to grow for at least another month before he re- harvests them.

His environmentally sustainable techniques have led Morro Bay Oyster to be recognized and highlighted by the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch program.

The farm lies on 134 acres that Maloney has leased long-term from California’s Department of Fish and Game. In the shadow of Morro Rock, a unique volcanic formation that was once an island and now stands sentry at the mouth of Morro Bay, smaller rocks have eroded from the behemoth, forming jetties and creating an estuary in which Maloney’s crop thrives.

Maloney explains that the flavor profile of the oysters changes throughout the year, depending on the salinity of the water. During the spring, when fresh water gushes from an underwater volcanic aquifer, the oysters are mild, sweet and have a melon finish. During the summer, when the water grows increasingly concentrated and salty, the oyster flesh gets creamier and pairs well with a salsa fresca that is heavy on cucumber. But, Maloney asserts, “For oysters this good, you don’t really need anything beyond a squeeze of lemon.” I nodded in agreement as I swallowed another oyster.

SIP

As I made my way around the festival, I stopped to sip some brandies from Osocalis, an artisanal distillery in Soquel, on the Santa Cruz side of the Monterey Bay. The name Osocalis is the original, Native American name for Soquel. Osocalis's small production team, headed by Daniel Farber and Jeff Emery, adheres to Old World methods of production, using an antique copper alembic still imported from Cognac.
Because my knowledge about brandy bordered on nil, I was lucky to get a quick distillation education while tasting the three brandies they were pouring. Brandy, in case you are as unfamiliar with it as I was, is a distilled wine and short for “brandywine.”

Owen started me off with their youngest offering, the Rare Alambic brandy. The Rare is blended from brandies distilled from several varietals with an emphasis on Pinot noir, Semillon and Colombard. After the bright and floral Rare, I moved on to their XO, which consists mostly of 15-year-old brandies and has a softer, nuttier flavor. Finally, I sipped the Heritage. At least two decades old, the Heritage teems with an alluring spiciness that was delightfully subtle. Owen called that complex flavor “rancio.” Part spicy, part fruity, part nutty, there were notes of clove and cinnamon with hints of cedar and leather. I am a brandy-convert. This is definitely a libation to sip and to savor.

SWIRL

Michaud Vineyards is the only winery I’ve ever seen bring a mason jar full of soil to a tasting. Yes, soil. Dirt. Maybe it’s because I am a perpetual inhabitant of testosterone land—with a husband and two small boys in the house—but that jar of dirt drew me to their tasting table a few years ago, the first time I ever encountered their wines. Intrigued, I remember that I placed my wine glass on the table and was instructed, “Swirl that. Take a whiff of the dirt. Then taste the wine.”

This time around Michaud didn’t have a mason jar of dirt with him, but, when I asked, he fished a vial of the substrate from his vineyard out of his bag. He talked to me about the minerals below his vines—decomposed granite, limestone formed from the decay of marine organisms, and pink feldspar—and he discussed how they affect the character of his wines.

Michaud does all of the winemaking and most of the farming himself; he relishes getting his hands dirty and stays involved with the wine production from beginning to end. He says, rightly, that that’s the only way he can guarantee the quality of his wines, which are a tribute to the elements that make up their composition. The aroma and taste, he claims, should reflect the soil, the sun, and the grape varietal. Though I tasted all of the wines Michaud brought to the festival, his Syrah was my favorite. Racy and peppery—Fantastic. Give that a swirl if you have the chance.

ENJOY

Vintners arrived from all over to be a part of the festival—from the Alexander Valley in Sonoma to Bend, Oregon—but on this night honoring reds, I wanted to do just that. I wanted to savor the wines and tastes from around the Central Coast. Though I thoroughly enjoyed everything I tasted, the Morro Bay Oyster Company, Osocalis Distillery, and Michaud Vineyard impressed me. Bravi. Thank you for the fabulous evening. Until we meet again...