Oh, what a glorious weekend...
When Danny suggested we take a trip up to his house in the Hudson Valley for the weekend, I knew that he was REALLY suggesting a 2.5-hour drive upstate for one glorious meal at John Andrews, the AMAZING restaurant where Danny worked as a line cook for several years. Sure, the sunset hikes and pure relaxation were nice perks, but let's face it, we went for the food.
And baby, it was worth every minute of it. After a tour of Danny's idyllic kindergarten-through-high-school (Wood paneled classrooms? Mountain trails in the play yard? Specific studios for the weaving and sculpture and modern dance classes? You betcha...) and a walk down mile-long, rhodedendron-lined trail leading to a place called "Sunset Rock" to watch the sun go down over the Hudson Valley, we had worked up a significant enough appetite to warrant a romantic, 5-star meal at the foot of the Berkshires...
We were treated like family as soon as we arrived - our hostess (who is also, of course, one of Danny's best friends from high school) escorted us to a cozy little window table in the corner, and left us with the bible, er.. I mean, menu. We decided to skip wine (I KNOW, I know... sacrifices must be made...) to maximize our food-to-money ratio, and began formulating our plan of attack. After some deliberation (but not much - we make a killer ordering team), we settled on the most decadent, seafood-heavy meal possible. Let the gluttony begin...
Considering my longstanding craving for lobster (I'm talking a month-plus here, people...), I JUMPED on the lobster appetizer - dressed with slivered asparagus, chives and fresh mint, drizzled with olive oil and sweet pea coulis - and in an appropriately manly fashion, Danny went for the fried oyster salad dressed with a bold anchovy viniagrette; totally different, but equal in deliciousness.
We absolutely wolfed our first course, and nibbled (aka scarfed down) the delicious, house-made focaccia (drenched in olive oil, laced with rosemary and slathered with sweet onions and parmigiano-reggiano) in anticipation of the decadence to come...
The mains were a tough choice (who can pass up locally-farmed lamb? Or house-made swiss chard, ricotta and red pepper ravioli??), but we finally settled on a gorgeous pistachio-encrusted halibut fillet with fingerling potatoes and a distinctly nutty-tasting steamed spinach (must have been the pistachios, but I swear my first assiciation was Butterfinger candy...) and glorious gobs of that wonderful pea coulis. I couldn't resist the scallops (scallops are my weakness anyway, and barely cooked and soaked in butter like they are here, they are absolutely irresistible), accompanied by some deliciously garlicy spinach and a crispy-fried ravioli of cod and potato. Both were, in a word, divine.
You would think we would stop there, but honestly - this is John Andrews. Dessert is REQUIRED.
This was a real struggle - too many good things, too little unoccupied stomach real estate - so we decided to extract our favorite part of each of the fabulous desserts (which would OBVIOUSLY be the ice cream component) and order a trio of the day's house-made flavors: an ethereal peppermint (no, not like gum, or toothpaste, or even candy; this tasted like fresh cream laced with REAL, garden-fresh, herby MINT); an unexpectedly deep and complex wildflower honey (sweet and creamy at first, followed by a rich, almost smoky flavor that can only be associated with pure, amber honey); and of course, the irresistible VBCC (vanilla-banana-chocolate-chunk, the longstanding house specialty; and yes, it is just as spectacular as it sounds). And on top of all the deliciousness, the dessert was on the house, courtesy of all of Danny's homies in the kitchen - gotta love those hook-ups.
We thanked our gracious hosts and chefs, hobbled to the car, slapped ourselves to stay awake on the interstate drive home (John Andrews is technically in Massachusetts), and crawled into bed, $100 poorer, but infinitely happy.
No comments:
Post a Comment