cklarock

Would you like to hear some scratchin? (4.1 MB) A little scratch practice. This usually goes on for hours. Can you feel my roommates pain yet?
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Those of you who read Sophies journal may recall her mentioning a little trip to Chicago, and getting fed by a round-bellied furry-cheeked genius of a chef. She (quite discreetly) did not mention that the chef in question was my younger brother.

You know, the little cutie-pie who used to follow me around even though I would smack him upside his enormous head and tell him beat it? Yeah, that kid.

Here is a photo of Chef Drue, taken approximately twenty seven years before achieving his culinary master-work (I refer to our tasting dinner, see below):



Essentially, we had driven for eight hours to have dinner. We were going to eat, crash, and get back on the road back to Kansas. What the fuck could possibly make it not only worth it, but a puny expense in terms of time, comfort and gas-money?

We had three primary reasons for making the tripfirst and foremost to bring Chef his birthday presents. I got him a KU hoodie, and Sophie got him a couple of books (natch). Secondly, I wanted them to meet each other, reasoning (wisely, you will agree) that if I introduced her to the most brilliant and talented member of my family first, the good impression might provide some needed momentum for coming to terms with my goofy ass. At the least, the reasoning might go, the genetic code that produced that is in there . . . somewhere.

Im not very adept, but I make up for it with raw guile.

Thirdly, I had yet to try Drues food since his promotion to Executive Chef. For the last two years, Vivere has been his and his alone. His food had been very well received, and I kept up with his reviews, but had never wrapped my mouth around his creations. It was my little guys restaurant now, and while he and I had *talked* about food, and discussed food theory, Id yet to test his skill.

In a culinary tag-team, Drues sommelier Ron had paired wines to each of the dishes that morning. There it was, then. The gauntlet had been thrown. It was to be five courses, with each of us receiving a separate dish and wine at each course. In all, there was to be ten plates and ten glasses. Fresh off of an eight hour drive, Sophie and I were prepared to die defending our plates, if it was required. (Luckily for whoever would have been the first-responders to the scene of our food-induced rampage, it was not.)

Round One:
Sophie: Herbed duck Carpaccio, blueberry vinaigrette, Pecorino Toscano
Zardetto, Prosecco, Veneto, Italy, nv

cklarock: Tuna tartar, celery, sweet corn emulsion, lime
Sauvignon Blanc, Babich, Marlborough, New Zealand, 2004


Round Two:
The Object of All Worthy Affection: Prosciutto wrapped prawns; cucumber-radish salad, lemon oil
Malvasia Bianca, Ca del Solo, Santa Cruz, United States, 2004

Your Humble Narrator: Seared scallops, fennel sausage stuffed morels, pea puree
Domaine Bouchard Pere & Fils, Beaune, Clos Saint-Landry,


Round Three:
Finer Than Baby Hair:: Tagliolini con Guanciale
Ceretto, Piana, Barbera dAlba, Piemonte, Italy, DOC, 1999

None Other Than I: Ravioli di Pecorino Toscano, truffles
Ceretto, Piana, Barbera dAlba, Piemonte, Italy, DOC, 1999



Round Four:
The Sum of All Cherished Dreams: Seared Ahi tuna; wood grilled mushrooms; crispy onions; truffle sauce
Sangiovese, La Carraia, Umbria, Italy, IGT, 2003

My Mama's New Second Favorite: Pan roasted duck breast; truffle-Pecorino flan; bacon braised cherries, arugula
Shiraz/Syrah, Hope Estate, Hunter Valley, Australia, 2003


Round Five:
Proof that Jah Love: Rustic bittersweet chocolate-orange tart, orange segments
Taylor, 20 Year Old, Tawny Port

I and I: Goat cheese-vanilla Panna Cotta, Lambrusco sauce
Gioia Louisa, Cream of Lemoncello

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Have you ever had a mouthgasm? If you have, you know immediately what Im talking about, and if you havent, you can probably surmise. This event was multiply mouthgasmic. The wines were brilliantly paired -- some of them were perfect. If the concept of pairing wines to food seems muddy to you, I can promise you that this tasting would have squared that issue right the fuck away. Ron didnt hit it perfectly with each pair, but a few of them were just . . . sublime. In those glorious instances each sip of wine made the following bite of food taste better, which made the following sip of wine better, and so on until the plate was being whisked away by our ultra-rad server (and drag-queen Dolly-Parton impersonator extraordinaire).

WeI both just kept freaking out over how good it all was, and it just kept getting better. Trust me, Suicide Girls, illuminated by that meal, I looked like a champ. How could I not? All I had to do was smile and adopt this attitude that yeah, this just how CK roll.

Play on, play on.

I had told Chef when we were planning the trip that I needed the hookup. I had explained how I had managed through some twist of fate or trick of the light to convince this brilliant and gorgeous woman to drive to Chicago with me, but I needed a clincher. Somebody had to step up and really impress her if I was to have any shot at all with such an amazing woman; I needed to call in the proverbial artillery. Goddamn, my boy came through for me. His culinary time-on-target barrage was some of the best food Ive ever had.