Eight Months of Mud and Ice

There were a couple of comments that came in recently that deserve to be shared more broadly and discussed more fully.  Mostly because they concern the opposing view of topics that I care deeply about, and deal with food issues that I think can be improved upon in the Capital Region.

I really enjoy getting comments like this.  They are thoughtful and articulate, and they allow me the opportunity to try to refine my original argument so that it can address unforeseen obstacles.

Today I want to share the first of these comments that was written in response to my comparison of two fancy Italian menus.  One was for MezzaNotte in Guilderland and the other was Oliveto in Oakland.

Here is the full text of what Sysonby wrote ten days ago:

I just came to this post via a link. Sorry so late to the party, or funeral as the case may be. Allow me to defend by town, Guilderland. As nice as it may seem to note the farm of origin for the tomatoes or the eggs at a location in California, what chance does a restauranteur have in upstate NY?

Meza Note may get much of it’s produce and dairy and meats from local farms, but … a) this area doesn’t have a close “relationship” with such providers and b) for 8 months of the year nothing is coming out of the ground but mud and ice. No restaurant in the Albany area can say “tomatoes from X farm” when that farm is only harvesting for 5 months.

Sure the foodies at Oliveto may understand what it means to get vegetables from “X farm” but most don’t know or care as long as it’s good food, well prepared. The hardcore foodie tends to think that everyone else in that restaurant is just like they are but most of us are not. We like the experience of a meal cooked by someone else. We like having the chance to linger over coffee or a glass of wine and not having to jump up to do the dishes. We don’t care if the cherry tomatoes are not the best we ever had or if the salad had too little arugula.

I believe a restaurateur has every chance in upstate New York to source high quality, seasonal ingredients from local farms.  In fact, there are three restaurants in the region (and I use the term “region” very broadly) that come to mind immediately: The Basement Bistro, Local 111 and Blue Hill at Stone Barns.

But the idea isn’t necessarily that every ingredient has to come from a specific local farm.  The idea is that every ingredient and every supplier was thoughtfully chosen to provide delicious seasonal ingredients.  Seeing local farms listed on a menu and their names attached to specific varieties of meat and produce, offers the dining public a compelling shorthand.

I think restaurants can play a very important role in shaping how people eat and defining what people think is good.  Sure, Capital District restaurant patrons may not have any idea what happens at Sap Bush Hollow Farm or what makes their beef so good.

But if they see it on the menus of the area’s finest restaurants, over time people will get the idea.

That is essentially the story of what happened with Niman Ranch beef.  A few prominent local chefs thought Bill Niman’s beef was special, and put it on their menus. 

Menus have more power than one might suspect.  They are a medium.  And they can help change the way people eat.

Sure, the growing season around here is preciously short.  This was painfully clear at the Troy Farmer’s market this past weekend where many of the vendors had departed, and those who remain seem to be down to their last winter storage vegetables.  Nonetheless, this week I picked up a few beautiful varieties of potatoes, some celery root, rainbow chard, beets, carrots and onions.  Last night I made a big pot of chicken stock while it is still cool enough outside to justify simmering large pots of liquid for several hours.

So even though we may have eight months of mud and ice, I’m not letting the restaurants off the hook.  There are all kinds of ways to preserve summer produce.  And the winter storage crops, while limited, can still provide a bounty of inspiration to a creative and talented chef, especially if the restaurant offers a focused menu of the chef’s best recipes for the ingredients at hand.

If that means no Caprese salad in February, then so be it.  The world will be a better place once summer dishes are removed from winter menus.

I understand that I take food more seriously than other people.  Most of the time it’s painfully obvious.  But I also know that I am the outlier.  And I am perfectly fine with the idea that dining out doesn’t have to be about achieving culinary nirvana.  What I am not fine with is paying fine dining prices for a meal that only has the trappings of fine dining.

If a restaurant is charging $29 for a veal shank, there ought to be something more special about it than the mere fact that it was cooked by someone else and you will not be expected to wash the dishes.

It’s time for Albany to step up its game.