CHEESE Dinner at Local 127 Sunday Night

Chef Steven Geddes hasn’t changed his focus on local food, although he has changed up the schedule at Local 127 (now located in the former Jean-Ro’s Bistro space at 413 Vine St., across from the Westin). The restaurant is now open only one Sunday night a month, for a prix-fixe dinner shining a special spotlight on artisanal foods and nearby food producers. This Sunday’s dinner will feature Kenny’s Farmhouse Cheeses: Here's the four course menu for $45 (wine pairings available for an additional $20):

1st course: Potato Skins, Reserve White Cheddar Cheese Whiz, Crispy Pork Belly

2nd course: Havarti Soup, Heirloom Tomato, Pistachio Pesto

3rd course:
Chicken Saltimbocca, Smoked Gouda, Prosciutto and Sage Jus

Short Ribs, Kentucky Rose Fondue, Red Onion Jam

Potatoes Au Gratin, Tomme de Nena, Preserved Lemon Gremolata

Roasted Corn, Norwood, Lime Juice, Herbs

4th course: Barren County Blue Cheesecake, Apricot Mostarda, Whipped Cream

The seeds of the new Sunday schedule grew from a June event co-sponsored by Local 127 and Slow Food Cincinnati. In the afternoon, Chef Geddes and the ubiquitous Justin Dean did a pig-butchering demo in the restaurant’s dining room. (Yes, dining room.) It drew a substantial crowd of local foods enthusiasts, as well as Cincinnati chefs including Jose Salazar of The Palace, Julie Frances of Nectar, and Brendan Haren of Orchids. It took a couple of hours for Justin and Chef Steve to break down the heritage pig provided by Napoleon Ridge Farm. (Anyone who wanted to stick around could also watch them dispatch a pig’s head into its useful components.) At 6:00 the doors reopened for a sold-out pork-centric dinner, at which Slow Food Cincinnati presented Local 127 with its first “Snail of Approval” award.presented Local 127 with its first “Snail of Approval” award.

Chef Geddes was on the advisory board for this year’s “Made in America” American Treasures Awards. Although the website spells our city’s name with too many n’s and t’s, Geddes is getting the word out about some of our region’s best food producers – and, he says, taking his own stuffed local pig faces wherever he travels as a food ambassador. Two of his nominees, Carriage House Farm, in Northbend, Ohio, and Kenny’s Farmhouse Cheese, in Austin, Kentucky, received awards this year. That's such a big honor that Richard Stewart of Carriage House Farm traveled to D.C. to accept his on the 4th of July.

Chef Geddes is committed to working with local and regional food producers in everything he puts on a plate at Local 127. But the format of these Sunday dinners gives him a unique opportunity to share his passion, acknowledge local food folks, and just plain have fun. On these Sunday nights, diners are seated at communal tables and food is served family style (in dishes to be shared by everyone, not individually composed “restaurant” plates). You never know who you’ll meet, or who you’ll want to meet again.

Before dinner Geddes speaks to the group about how and why he came to be in Cincinnati. In his booming voice, he is happy to share the story of his early days in the flatlands of Colorado, where his grandparents farmed. After spending much of his life in arid Las Vegas, he found what he’d been seeking when he discovered the bounty of the Ohio River Valley foodshed (which includes both sides of the Ohio River). He introduces the evening’s menu, then opens the floor for the featured guest to talk about what they do, like Richard Stewart of Carriage House Farm at the second dinner in this series.

And then you eat. Oh, my, do you eat! Many of the “courses” at the previous two dinners have included multiple, generous offerings, like these from the Carriage House Farm dinner last month.

Chef Steve always likes to start with a sampling of pickled and cured items. And I always dive right into them without taking notes about the culinary details.

Smoked trout

Pork terrine with potato salad

Chicken wings

This appetizer, featuring pickled nasturtium seed pods from Carriage House Farm

 that taste like capers, was one of my favorites of the night.

Those four dishes were just the first course. Here's the second.

Potato soup with salsa verde and nasturtiums. Velvety and delicious.

The fourth, or entree, course was another bounty of dishes featuring Carriage House Farm offerings and other local goodness.

Confit chicken with Sheltowee mushrooms and thyme jus

Roasted pork from the "Porkopolis" plate, 

a constant but always changing feature on Local 127's regular dinner menu 

featuring Chef Steve's love of heritage pork and pork preparations

Sides included a risotto made of Carriage House Farm wheatberries, a collaborative dish of wilted greens, and an amazing cheese-filled Johnny Cake that was another of my personal favorites. 

And then there's dessert.There's always dessert.

Buttermilk panna cotta over spiced bush berry brumble.

That’s Carriage House Farm’s bee pollen on top.

I'm a cheese lover who isn't going to pass up the opportunity to taste what Local 127 will do with Kenny's Farmhouse cheeses this Sunday night. I discovered Kenny's Farmhouse Cheeses a couple of years ago at Kentucky Crafted, and am delighted to find they are now available at many Greater Cincinnati farmers markets (including Bellevue Farmers Market in front of the Party Source) plus Picnic + Pantry in Northside and on restaurant menus at Bouquet and Virgil's.

Call Local 127 to make a reservation at (513) 721-1345. I'd love to share a table with you.

Bison and Red Penguins: Serious Food, With a Side of Whimsy

“You went there to eat bones?” asked Cindie’s husband when she called him from Louisville the day after our dinner at Proof on Main. Rolling her eyes, Cindie tried to explain. “They’re like what we give the dogs, only they’re cooked.”

Not quite! Roasted bison marrow bones were just one of two spectacular dishes friend Cindie and I shared for our first course at Proof on Main the first night of our recent getaway to Louisville.

Proof is the restaurant in the 21C, the boutique hotel/museum in downtown Louisville that is also partnering with 3CDC to create a similar venue in Cincinnati. Plans are in the works to renovate the Cincinnati’s Metropole Hotel adjacent to the Contemporary Arts Center and across from the Aronoff.

Owned by wife and husband Laura Lee Brown and Steve Wilson, collectors of contemporary art, Louisville’s 21C museum/hotel is unlike any place I’ve ever encountered – even in the many years I’ve gone to museums with my architect/art historian father. Brown and Wilson also happen to own a bison farm in Oldham County, Kentucky, where the restaurant’s original gardens on the roof of the hotel have been relocated.

On our first trip to Louisville together a year ago, Cindie and I stopped by the 21C, not knowing much about it. Relying on Cindie’s GPS, we figured we’d found the place when we spied these red penguins, such unexpected accoutrements to an historic building we simply had to ask about them.

We were told the owners first saw the Red Penguins, by the Cracked Art Group, at a public art installation in Florence (Italy, not Kentucky) and bought 40-45 of them after the show was over. In addition to those perched atop the hotel and above its entrance, a hotel employee told us, “We have about a dozen we play with.” Repeat clients with a known sense of humor might discover a red penguin in their shower, for instance. Or a couple staying at the hotel for their wedding might open the door of their room to be greeted by penguins dressed in wedding dress and tux. The 21C recently offered a special package for Lady Gaga’s Louisville performance, so who knows what other costumes the red penguins may have donned for that occasion.

The 21C plans to commission additional penguins for its upcoming hotels in Austin, Texas, and Bentonville, Arkansas, as well as Cincinnati. But each city’s penguins will be a different color. I hope Cincy’s aren’t yellow as in this artist’s rendering, since yellow has nothing to do with Cincinnati. And I personally hope they aren’t pink, although Cincy is known for (pink) flying pigs. Too bad red is already taken.

The Cincinnati Art Museum is exhibiting a show from the 21C’s collection through May 15 if you’d like to catch a glimpse. But I can’t help but think seeing the same works of art in Cincinnati's stately museum in Eden Park would present a much different experience than seeing them in their "native habitat" in Louisville.

The gallery spaces, on 21C’s entry and lower levels, are free, visible, and accessible to anyone entering the building. You need not book a room to feel welcomed into this quirky venue, which in addition to its acclaimed restaurant offers lots of activities – from yoga to poetry readings to its annual pajama party – to keep the locals engaged and happy to return. Many of the galleries feature video and interactive installations; others offer cozy spots to sit amongst the art, perhaps with a beverage in hand. Even the restrooms are an award-winning work of art. Exhibits in the main galleries change frequently. This fantastical chest of drawers from the current show of contemporary Cuban art was just one piece that caught my eye.

When Cindie and I were in Louisville last March, we poked our heads into Proof on Main, the 21C’s bar/restaurant. It looked like a vibrant place, but we were there in the middle of the afternoon and already had reservations for dinner. This time Proof was at the top of my dining agenda, and Cindie was happy to oblige.

Here is one of those movable red penguins at Proof.

On to the food. In addition to a selection of six or so first course options, Proof’s menu features a “For the Table” section, where you can choose your own mix-and-match combination of house-made charcuterie and artisan cheeses, at $15 for three selections or $21 for five. (Surprisingly, none were from nearby Capriole, although Capriole Goat Cheese is apparently used in other dishes and is listed on the menu as a friend/purveyor.) Cindie and I easily agreed, even before heading to the restaurant, that we’d opt for five, then asked our server to describe the current offerings in more detail.

(Counter-clockwise from bottom left) We ordered house-made chicken liver pate and pork jowl terrine (both of which Cindie found too salty after cooking for her husband’s new low-sodium diet, but I really enjoyed - yippee, more for me!), a spectacular creamy Italian cheese we both agreed was our overall favorite (we understood our server to say it was the Moringhello di Bufala, an aged buffalo milk’s cheese, but after hunting up more info on it, I think the creamy one was actually the other Italian cheese we ordered, Brunet, a young goat's milk cheese, and that somehow we, or our enthusiastic foodie server, got things flip-flopped). House-cured coppa is on the bottom right, and the accompanying "toasted" bread is in the back. Unfortunately, it had a lot of char on it. I picked off the burnt pieces in an effort to use it as a vessel for the lovely charcuterie, while Cindie’s strategy was to use the loaf we’d received when we were seated (it was tough and dry, but at least not burnt).

Our antipasti board also came with grainy mustard, cornichons, a chutney-ish condiment (I didn't eat much of it and have, I'm afraid, forgotten the particulars), and lightly truffled honey.

Also in the (online) menu’s “For the Table” section were Roasted Bison Marrow Bones,which immediately drew my attention. Finding them absent from the menu presented to us at the restaurant (there were a couple other discrepancies in the menus Cindie and I each received as well), I was assured by our server I could have the bison bones. When he returned to our table, he apologized for not knowing they had in fact been 86’d (he'd just returned from a foodie trip to Charleston) . . . but with the good news that the kitchen still had one order left, and it would be mine!

Given that bison is a lean game meat, it may seem a contradiction to order it for the fatty marrow. But those of you who know me also know I never pass up an opportunity to try something new, especially when it comes to game. I'm also happy to know this kitchen and the bison farm from which it came are celebrating, rather than wasting. We had to ask for appropriately small utensils to extract the marrow, and had better luck getting it out of the bones once the temperature had cooled a bit.

After indulging in our filling starters, I suspected I wouldn’t have room for an entire entrée. Besides, as usual, I was more tempted by several first course options. There was no way I was passing up the KY Bison Carpaccio with Farm Egg Ravioli, Sunchokes, and Tartufelo. I also had my eye on the Chick Pea and Country Ham Fritters. When I asked about portion sizes, our server was right in his estimation that the two would make a reasonable combination to sub for an entrée, and I was thrilled with both.

I’m always a sucker for carpaccio, and this was of bison. However, what made it truly spectacular was the marvelous runny-egg filling of the single raviolo oozing onto the meat. I also loved the contrasting crunch of the sunchoke chips.

When my fritters arrived at the table, I looked at the plate mounded with greens and had to remind myself what I'd ordered. The plate was covered with way more red and green Treviso than it needed to be, especially for someone like me, who is not all that fond of raw bitter greens. But when I uncovered the fritters beneath “the hair,” I loved what I found. Crisp-fried on the outside and cut into rectangular logs of fritter goodness that would make your high-school geometry teacher proud, the slight sweetness of chickpeas accented with bits of salty country ham paired delectably with a mustard crema on the plate underneath.

Cindie, alas, was not as satisfied with what she ordered. She had her taste buds set for the Braised Short Rib special served every Friday (and Thursday). Our server had informed us earlier that the kitchen was out of chicken (an Amish chicken with wheatberries, cashews, raisins, Brussels sprouts and cauliflower pickles). But it wasn’t until we were ready to order our “mains” that we learned they were also out of short ribs. It was only 8:00 on a Friday night, and Cindie was not a happy camper. So she settled on the Grilled Rib Steak with grit cakes, cipollini, and salami butter.

Cindie, true to her own preferences, asked for “regular” grits in place of the grit cakes and was told they would be happy to make the substitution. When her dish arrived, however, grit cakes were on the plate, and it took longer than she would have liked for her side of grits to arrive. Meanwhile, I was the delighted recipient of her grit cakes, which I enjoyed very much – especially with a bit of her salami butter.

One of the best things about eating, and traveling, with an old friend (Cindie and I have known each other since eighth grade, but refuse to think of ourselves as "old") is that we've learned to "go along and get along." We respect each other's differences of opinion, and know there are certain subjects we're better off not discussing (politics), while we can engage in frank discussions even when we don't come to the same conclusion in other arenas (including restaurant food). Although our dinner at Proof was my favorite of that weekend, Cindie preferred our dinner Saturday night (to be spotlighted in a later post).

One thing we both agreed on after this dinner, our late afternoon drive to Louisville, and the acknowledgment that we needed to pace ourselves for the weekend, was that we would forgo dessert. But guess what came with our check.

Cotton candy. Definitely pink. Tasting of cinnamon. So much more ethereal in texture than whenever I last tasted cotton candy, and made in Proof's own open kitchen. I've never been a fan of cotton candy, but I couldn't help but smile . . . especially as I passed a red penguin on my way outside . . .  into torrential rain . . . and a cheery young valet appeared out of nowhere, proffering an umbrella to help me to Cindie's car.

FIESTA IN THE WOODS

I knew I was where I belonged for the weekend when I drove up to the cabin and found this guy ready to greet me.

Just a few miles off I-71 north of Columbus, I was back at Mohican State Park, and with friends. Settling on "fiesta" as our weekend theme, Tricia and Amy had added colorful touches to our nondescript '50s-era cabin, outside and in. Chili pepper lights on the back porch overlooking the stream, cacti and sombrero cut-outs on the living room walls, an inflatable burro rider we dubbed Pepe; even the bathroom had a little fiesta bling. There were appropriately themed serving dishes, and maraca keychain party favors for all.

Becky had arrived a little ahead of me, and we were both glad to be off the highway. All of us were ready to celebrate, as well as to relax.

Living in different parts of the state, the four of us rendezvous several times a year, but in May we honor the woman who brought us all together, and who died suddenly four years ago. Della loved her birthday, always turning it into a party or getaway of some sort, and we have continued that tradition. She was an assistant park ranger for the State of Ohio, so it is only fitting that each year we celebrate her birthday at one of the Ohio state parks.

Mohican is one of our favorites because of the stream just a few footsteps behind the cabins. The fire ring between the screened back porch and the stream . . .

was perfect for grilling brats and Italian sausages our first night, and staying up late, catching up, reminiscing . . . and chasing away racoons who dared to intrude.

STRATA AL FRESCO

What a lovely spot for breakfast.

 

My "fiesta" strata adaptation worked out just fine Saturday morning. Green chiles, a can of green chili, sauteed onions and bell peppers, salsa, Monterey Jack, and cotijo cheese in addition to the usual bread, eggs, and milk/cream do indeed a tasty breakfast casserole make.

I usually make strata just the night before, pulling it out of the fridge and baking for about an hour in the morning. But there was no noticeable problem assembling the whole thing two nights in advance. It puffed up gorgeously, despite my lack of photographic evidence. Gotta love a dish that 1) is a reliable make-ahead, 2) takes well to seemingly endless variation, and 3) is just about impossible to mess up.

HURRY UP AND WAIT
Fortified by fresh air and a hearty breakfast, we were ready to embark on a new adventure - boating on the Clear Fork Reservoir. Sandwiches were made. Sunscreen, towels, and beverages were assembled. The sky was blue and our spirits were running high with anticipation. But we ran into a glitch. Amy's keys were nowhere to be found . . . except, by process of elimination, probably locked in her car.

Becky flagged down a park worker, who offered us a slim jim, which Amy and Trish took turns sliding down along the window, attempting to catch and free the lock.

When that proved unsuccessful, we tracked down a ranger with another approach: He used wedges to open a crack around the window, then inserted a pump-up air bladder to create enough space to thread a metal rod to get at the lock from inside the car instead of inside the door.

Interesting factoid: He told us the park has generally given up on the use of slim jims due to the risk of damaging side air-bags. At any rate, the kindly ranger was finally able to unlock Amy's car, and we breathed a serious sigh of relief. Hey, these little set-backs are the stuff of reminiscences to come.

PONTOON ADVENTURE

Undeterred by our later-than-anticipated start, we were determined to get to the lake that afternoon. On our last trip to Mohican, we'd discovered a boat rental shop at Clear Fork Lake, on the other side of I-71. We hauled our cooler and other gear down to our rented pontoon boat, and were off.

Becky and Amy took turns piloting our vessel, and it seemed like everytime I tried to take a pic of Trish, she was photographing too.

With an 8-mile-per-hour speed limit on the lake, we could putt around the lake at our leisure, admiring an equally slow-moving sailboat . . .

. . . the waterfowl that seemed to land on every buoy . . .

. . . even a surprise patch of dogwood along the shore.

Is there anything better than an afternoon on the water? Not much, I say. Despite an ill-timed potty break back at the marina when boats were lined up to exit at the conclusion of a fishing tournament we knew nothing about, and a tricky exit of our own when we discovered another boat occupying our slip, it was a fine day. I even managed to capture these photos of a blue heron and a duck family as we debated how and where to tie off.

On our way back to the cabin, we took a little detour to Gatton Rocks, where we encountered a group of prom-goers. I don't think they were quite sure what to make of our motley tie-dyed crew while they were in finery. But when we offered to take photos of them, they warmed. All the photos we took of them were on their cameras. But after they left, I snapped this.

MAKE-YOUR-OWN TACO DINNER

We took turns with meals (alas, I didn't capture them all on film, but I didn't want to be too annoying with the camera, and sometimes I was just so hungry I forgot about it). Becky's Saturday night taco bar included chunks of avocado, a fragrant bowl of cilantro, and taco meat a la Becky - deer burger cooked with the salsa she cans every year from veggies she grows herself. Nothing better - her salsa is summertime caught in a jar!

SHOT GLASS NIGHT: OUR TRADITION
Our girl Della was quite a collector. Besides collecting friends, she collected shot glasses and souvenir spoons. They cover a lot of geography. Some she bought herself during her travels; others reached her through friends and friends' families traveling to places she unfortunately would never see.

Della's husband gave them all to us, and four years later, we are still divvying up those shot glasses. The tradition we've evolved is that we each select several shot glasses and, going around in a circle, tell a "Della story" about where it's from. The first year, story-telling was pretty rough - until Trish, who hadn't know Della as long as the rest of us, busted out a tale to accompany a Nevada shot glass about her adventures with Della when they were both showgirls in Las Vegas (at least, that's how I remember it). Conjured up from thin air, and convincingly told, it was just the note of levity we needed. Now our shot-glass stories are all fabrications, and the best whopper this year was Amy's, about when she and Della were tagging manatees in Florida. Wish I could remember all the details, but they're a little fuzzy after that bottle of Amatulla we polished off.

BONUS DAY!!!!!!
Our usual weekend getaways are Friday and Saturday night stays, which, when we stay at the parks, translates into a downer on Sunday mornings, as we have to de-decorate, load all our crap back into our cars, and vacate by 11:00 a.m. This is especially unwelcome after Shot Glass Night. (Fortunately, the park staff are forgiving; I don't think we've ever made it out on time.) This year, we treated ourselves to an extra day, so we had all day Sunday!

While more active folks kayaked along the stream behind our cabin . . .

. . . we could chillax, listening to the water and observing the wildlife.

Except for Becky, who was busy whipping up our second al fresco breakfast feast.

Waffles and blueberries and maple syrup, plus sausage and cilantro- and avocado-laced eggs. We were very happy [cabin] campers.

AN AFTERNOON FOR THE BIRDS

While Becky spent some well-earned time for herself at the cabin, the rest of us headed out to the Ohio Bird Sanctuary, a lovely place we'd discovered during our last trip to Mohican. This time our visit was rain-free. I'm nowhere near the naturalist that Amy is (or Della was), so I won't embarrass myself by trying to identify all these critters. I'll just share a few photos.

MY TURN FOR MORE FOOD

Our eating schedule a bit off-kilter, we swapped a late lunch for apps by the stream. I brought bread, cheese, and an array of olive-bar items, trying to keep it simple. Unsuprisingly, I brought way more than needed. However, the leftovers made a great, easy spread to nibble on while watching last night's Top Chef Masters.

And for dinner, I transformed that salmon into salmon-watermelon-kalamata-feta-mint salad.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DELLA!

Monday morning brought Amy's delectable quiche, and our departure from the cabin.We headed to the cemetery and spiffed up Della's (and her parents') headstones, pulling weeds and spreading mulch in the rain. Plus adding some celebratory bling - including an impromptu windchime made from some of Della's spoons.

You may be gone, girlfriend. But you're certainly not forgotten. We're already talking about your 50th.

Thanks to any of my kind readers who have made it to the end of this lengthy post. Sorry I was unable to participate in the Caribbean Culinary Smackdown. Hope you'll understand I've just been too busy traveling this month to let my blog rule my real life. But I look forward to checking out everyone's posts and imbibing your culinary inspirations!