Sheppard Mansion Idyll

My wife and I spent last Saturday and Sunday at what in retrospect seems like the most unlikely place in the world: a meticulously presented fin de siecle mansion nested in the heart of an old American factory town.

The place seems unlikely not only because it is a very grand house in a sea of contemporaneously built modest-to-humble commercial and residential structures (I cannot imagine why H.D. Sheppard, the man who commissioned the house in 1911, would chose to put such a grand house here.) or because the house is furnished with very posh looking stuff bought and beloved by it’s original inhabitants, but also because it is all of that and it is home to rare culinary talent.

Now I don’t mean to suggest that this talent is rare within the town of Hanover, Pa. where the Sheppard Mansion hangs like a cherished family portrait in a quaint home that needs a good dusting. (I’d never been to Hanover before Saturday. How would I know anything about how people cook there?) And I’m not going to say that it is rare relative to any geographic area because if I did, I know I’d end up insulting some feverish and talented chef whose only “fault” is that he or she works in some place that I have never visited. That’d be wrong and dumb.

When I write that Chef Andrew Little and his crew have rare talent, I’m using my professional experiences as a basis of comparison. I’m comparing their work to my own work and to the work of every student and professional cook that I have come into contact with -and I’ve known thousands. I’m also comparing Chef Little’s work to what I know from the literature of the tradition within which he is working: that quantum of cooking techniques, service schema, naming conventions, ideology and aspirations that I think of as the haute cuisine, La Grande Cuisine or Classical French Cuisine.

Of course, I cannot quantify how often I have come across someone who shows the kind of serious of purpose and commitment to craft and aspiration to art that Chef Little showed me. But I suppose I could guess that out of the more than six-thousand students who came through my classrooms and kitchens at The Culinary Institute of America and the various restaurants where I have worked and eaten, maybe one percent of the cooks appeared to have this kind of aptitude and ambition?

I will not do a line-item review of the food I ate to attempt to prove to you that this kitchen is worth paying attention to. But I will say that the ten course tasting menu we had was beautifully executed (No small feat for a kitchen with only four cooks, chef included!). Every dish except one, showed solid command of technique. No portion was too big or too small and the sequence of the dishes made perfect sense. A sequence of two dishes representing the fish and meat course in the classical dining form could have been a little deeper, but what they lacked in depth they recouped in composition and demonstration of classical cooking technique. I was really impressed by how chef tries not to waste any part of any ingredient (thrift is sine qua non in classical cooking). A superb sweet custard made from scraps (corn cob) proved to me that he really does get it.

In sum: The menu was absolutely true to the form of a classically composed meal and very much like a mildly challenging piece of classical music. The overture was quite and slow and established the theme. The tempo got a little quicker through the second movement until things started to get pretty serious. There should have been an intermezzo to break the tension, but I’m not complaining. The third movement, the finale, resolved all conflict and made everything okay.

The front of the house, the domain of Karen Van Guilder and Timothy Bobb, was inspiring. The service was polite and crisp and every one seemed imbued with the spirit of hospitality. It was the kind of service I’d expect in a Manhattan New York Times 2-3 star property or at a Ritz Carlton almost anywhere. It’s never easy to get Americans to be comfortable serving people. So many of us seem to think that there is something deeply wrong with a job that requires that we defer to the needs of others. In places where the labor pool is broad and deep and the competition for jobs in prestigious restaurants is tough, it’s relatively easy to find people who are willing to put their egos on a back burner and be nice to needy, sometimes demanding guests, but Hanover is not Paris or London. Whatever Karen and Timothy are doing, they are doing it better than I thought possible outside of the big cities.

Finally, I need to apologize and offer a sop to those of you who may have found my “review” of the food hard to relate to because it is so full of chef-speak. So let me leave you with this.

The standard that I use to decide if a meal is worth remembering, says that at least one dish has to move me to tears. That does not happen very often. Last weekend my eyes welled up with tears twice.

Man, you can’t beat this stuff with a whisk!

Here is the menu and the names of the staff.

July 26, 2008

Red Thumb Baked Potato

Housemade Bacon, Black Truffle Crème Fraiche, Garden Chive

Schramsburg “Mirabelle” Brut Rosé (Napa) NV

______________

Smoked Ham Hock ‘Tartine’

Rillette Of Ham Hock, Sliced Radish, Frisee Lettuce

______________

Scott Robinson’s Berkshire Pork Sausage Pizza

Grilled Ratatouille, Three Sisters ‘Serena’

______________

A Salad Of Kathy Glahn’s Heirloom Beets

Creekside Farms Micro Lettuces, Black Truffle Vinaigrette

Gainey Vineyard Riesling (Santa Ynez Valley) 2006

______________

Whole Roasted Hudson Valley Foie Gras

Balsamic Glazed Shiro Plums, Toasted ‘Palladin’

______________

Crispy Skinned Chesapeake Rockfish

A Salad Of Heirloom Tomato, Corn, Black Beans And Grilled Corn,

Chimichurri Sauce

Famiglia Bianchi Chardonnay (Argentina) 2005

______________

Roasted Rettland Farms Milk Fed Poularde

Peaches, Frisee Lettuce, Sweet Corn Jus

______________

Cherry Glen Farms ‘Monocacy Crottin’

Sweet And Spicy Pecans, Honeycomb

Late Harvest Chardonnay, Bouchaine “Bouche D’Or” (Napa), 2006

______________

Sweet Corn Custard

Blackberries, Garden Mint

______________

Boyers Orchard Peach Tart

Honey Ice Cream

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Sheppard Mansion Idyll

My wife and I spent last Saturday and Sunday at what in retrospect seems like the most unlikely place in the world: a meticulously presented fin de siecle mansion nested in the heart of an old American factory town.

The place seems unlikely not only because it is a very grand house in a sea of contemporaneously built modest-to-humble commercial and residential structures (I cannot imagine why H.D. Sheppard, the man who commissioned the house in 1911, would chose to put such a grand house here.) or because the house is furnished with very posh looking stuff bought and beloved by it’s original inhabitants, but also because it is all of that and it is home to rare culinary talent.

Now I don’t mean to suggest that this talent is rare within the town of Hanover, Pa. where the Sheppard Mansion hangs like a cherished family portrait in a quaint home that needs a good dusting. (I’d never been to Hanover before Saturday. How would I know anything about how people cook there?) And I’m not going to say that it is rare relative to any geographic area because if I did, I know I’d end up insulting some feverish and talented chef whose only “fault” is that he or she works in some place that I have never visited. That’d be wrong and dumb.

When I write that Chef Andrew Little and his crew have rare talent, I’m using my professional experiences as a basis of comparison. I’m comparing their work to my own work and to the work of every student and professional cook that I have come into contact with -and I’ve known thousands. I’m also comparing Chef Little’s work to what I know from the literature of the tradition within which he is working: that quantum of cooking techniques, service schema, naming conventions, ideology and aspirations that I think of as the haute cuisine, La Grande Cuisine or Classical French Cuisine.

Of course, I cannot quantify how often I have come across someone who shows the kind of serious of purpose and commitment to craft and aspiration to art that Chef Little showed me. But I suppose I could guess that out of the more than six-thousand students who came through my classrooms and kitchens at The Culinary Institute of America and the various restaurants where I have worked and eaten, maybe one percent of the cooks appeared to have this kind of aptitude and ambition?

I will not do a line-item review of the food I ate to attempt to prove to you that this kitchen is worth paying attention to. But I will say that the ten course tasting menu we had was beautifully executed (No small feat for a kitchen with only four cooks, chef included!). Every dish except one, showed solid command of technique. No portion was too big or too small and the sequence of the dishes made perfect sense. A sequence of two dishes representing the fish and meat course in the classical dining form could have been a little deeper, but what they lacked in depth they recouped in composition and demonstration of classical cooking technique. I was really impressed by how chef tries not to waste any part of any ingredient (thrift is sine qua non in classical cooking). A superb sweet custard made from scraps (corn cob) proved to me that he really does get it.

In sum: The menu was absolutely true to the form of a classically composed meal and very much like a mildly challenging piece of classical music. The overture was quite and slow and established the theme. The tempo got a little quicker through the second movement until things started to get pretty serious. There should have been an intermezzo to break the tension, but I’m not complaining. The third movement, the finale, resolved all conflict and made everything okay.

The front of the house, the domain of Karen Van Guilder and Timothy Bobb, was inspiring. The service was polite and crisp and every one seemed imbued with the spirit of hospitality. It was the kind of service I’d expect in a Manhattan New York Times 2-3 star property or at a Ritz Carlton almost anywhere. It’s never easy to get Americans to be comfortable serving people. So many of us seem to think that there is something deeply wrong with a job that requires that we defer to the needs of others. In places where the labor pool is broad and deep and the competition for jobs in prestigious restaurants is tough, it’s relatively easy to find people who are willing to put their egos on a back burner and be nice to needy, sometimes demanding guests, but Hanover is not Paris or London. Whatever Karen and Timothy are doing, they are doing it better than I thought possible outside of the big cities.

Finally, I need to apologize and offer a sop to those of you who may have found my “review” of the food hard to relate to because it is so full of chef-speak. So let me leave you with this.

The standard that I use to decide if a meal is worth remembering, says that at least one dish has to move me to tears. That does not happen very often. Last weekend my eyes welled up with tears twice.

Man, you can’t beat this stuff with a whisk!

Here is the menu and the names of the staff.

July 26, 2008

Red Thumb Baked Potato

Housemade Bacon, Black Truffle Crème Fraiche, Garden Chive

Schramsburg “Mirabelle” Brut Rosé (Napa) NV

______________

Smoked Ham Hock ‘Tartine’

Rillette Of Ham Hock, Sliced Radish, Frisee Lettuce

______________

Scott Robinson’s Berkshire Pork Sausage Pizza

Grilled Ratatouille, Three Sisters ‘Serena’

______________

A Salad Of Kathy Glahn’s Heirloom Beets

Creekside Farms Micro Lettuces, Black Truffle Vinaigrette

Gainey Vineyard Riesling (Santa Ynez Valley) 2006

______________

Whole Roasted Hudson Valley Foie Gras

Balsamic Glazed Shiro Plums, Toasted ‘Palladin’

______________

Crispy Skinned Chesapeake Rockfish

A Salad Of Heirloom Tomato, Corn, Black Beans And Grilled Corn,

Chimichurri Sauce

Famiglia Bianchi Chardonnay (Argentina) 2005

______________

Roasted Rettland Farms Milk Fed Poularde

Peaches, Frisee Lettuce, Sweet Corn Jus

______________

Cherry Glen Farms ‘Monocacy Crottin’

Sweet And Spicy Pecans, Honeycomb

Late Harvest Chardonnay, Bouchaine “Bouche D’Or” (Napa), 2006

______________

Sweet Corn Custard

Blackberries, Garden Mint

______________

Boyers Orchard Peach Tart

Honey Ice Cream

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

The Staff of Sheppard Mansion

Andrew Little, Chef de Cusine
Karen Van Guilder, Restaurant Manager and Special Events Coordinator
Scott Robinson, Sous Chef
Alan Taulbee, Chef de Partie
Daniel Smith, Chef de Partie
Jessica Daley, Waiter

Timothy Bobb, Innkeeper
Erin Mumma, Waiter
Jeremy Braughler, Waiter
Samuel Jacquez, Waiter
Robert Womack, Dishwasher

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Bennigan’s Restaurants Shut Down Nationwide

This might be cause for celebration if there was reason to believe that it was the beginning of a long trend. And, of course, we don’t like to read about people losing their jobs.
Bennigan’s Restaurants Shut Down Nationwide

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Now This

This is just sad.

Apparently so few humans have been able to eat her cooking, that Rachael Ray has had to turn to feeding dogs to satisfy her creative ambitions. This seems “EVOO” on it’s face, yet I suppose we should be happy that the dogs are finding her food “Yum-o.” At least something wants to eat what she cooks.

But then again, dogs are fond of eating feces, rotten garbage and road kill. (I once had the honor of riding in a car with a dog who had eaten of a bloated harbor seal that had washed up on a Cape Cod Beach; it was a revelation.) so she better not let their appreciation for her cuisine go to her head. If Ms. Ray wants to be a good cook she still needs to work on her cooking skills and get over her dependence on the prepared foods that she slops out of bags and cans into her Rachel Ray branded pans.

Rachael Ray Launches Line of Super Premium Dog Food & Treats – MarketWatch

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Now This

This is just sad.

Apparently so few humans have been able to eat her cooking, that Rachael Ray has had to turn to feeding dogs to satisfy her creative ambitions. This seems “EVOO” on it’s face, yet I suppose we should be happy that the dogs are finding her food “Yum-o.” At least something wants to eat what she cooks.

But then again, dogs are fond of eating feces, rotten garbage and road kill. (I once had the honor of riding in a car with a dog who had eaten of a bloated harbor seal that had washed up on a Cape Cod Beach; it was a revelation.) so she better not let their appreciation for her cuisine go to her head. If Ms. Ray wants to be a good cook she still needs to work on her cooking skills and get over her dependence on the prepared foods that she slops out of bags and cans into her Rachel Ray branded pans.

Rachael Ray Launches Line of Super Premium Dog Food & Treats – MarketWatch

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Classic Win at Chicago

We had some excitement at Hendrick’s Farms and Dairy last week when within a couple of hot Friday afternoon hours, 3 of our hogs came back from the dead (1) in boxes as loins and bellies and bags of ground meat and we learned that Trent and Rachel had won a 3rd place prize at the American Cheese Society’s annual competition in Chicago. As a relative newcomer to the farm and the world of cheese making in general, I thought I’d ask Trent to write a few words explaining the significance of the competition and the win.

The American Cheese Society is the premier guild of cheese makers, we have won many awards from their annual competition. We entered the farmstead division this year because that is the heart of the show, and is where the most heated battles occur. The judging is point-based on technical and aesthetic attributes, and if the total value of the points awarded to the highest placed cheese does not reach the 90th percentile, then the next best cheese in that class will be awarded second prize. So it’s a serious event. The US and world championships are larger, but the ACS is top shelf.

We won gold at the US show for a goat cheese 2005, but the blue we got at the ACS in 2006 meant more. ACS allows for more creativity then the other shows and attracts more artisans, the other shows attract more dairy companies. We only sent two chesses (Telford Tomme and Keystone Classic) this time in Farmstead under 90 days and farmstead over 90 days. In 2006 we came in 2^nd in both. Next year we’ll do better.

Hendricks Farms and Dairy Keystone Classic

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Classic Win at Chicago

We had some excitement at Hendrick’s Farms and Dairy last week when within a couple of hot Friday afternoon hours, 3 of our hogs came back from the dead (1) in boxes as loins and bellies and bags of ground meat and we learned that Trent and Rachel had won a 3rd place prize at the American Cheese Society’s annual competition in Chicago. As a relative newcomer to the farm and the world of cheese making in general, I thought I’d ask Trent to write a few words explaining the significance of the competition and the win.

The American Cheese Society is the premier guild of cheese makers, we have won many awards from their annual competition. We entered the farmstead division this year because that is the heart of the show, and is where the most heated battles occur. The judging is point-based on technical and aesthetic attributes, and if the total value of the points awarded to the highest placed cheese does not reach the 90th percentile, then the next best cheese in that class will be awarded second prize. So it’s a serious event. The US and world championships are larger, but the ACS is top shelf.

We won gold at the US show for a goat cheese 2005, but the blue we got at the ACS in 2006 meant more. ACS allows for more creativity then the other shows and attracts more artisans, the other shows attract more dairy companies. We only sent two chesses (Telford Tomme and Keystone Classic) this time in Farmstead under 90 days and farmstead over 90 days. In 2006 we came in 2^nd in both. Next year we’ll do better.

Hendricks Farms and Dairy Keystone Classic

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Lonzino Update

In an earlier post I wrote with some trepidation about a couple of IBP loins that had come into my possession under questionable circumstances and how I decided to cure them just see how they turned out. Well, they turned out much better than I thought they would.

The cure I used was a mixture of salt, salts of nitrate (Instacure) sugar (sucrose) dried thyme, black pepper and bay laurel. The loins were in the cure for ten days, rinsed tied and hung for a little over 4 weeks. The texture is superb, really chewy but not in any way tough. The flavor, alas, is a little disappointing. Like most pork that comes out of the mass production sector of the farming community, you have to spend a lot of time reassuring yourself that what you are eating is really pork and not a facsimile created by a gifted chemist. However, if you chew it slowly and breathe deeply to make sure that your olfactory bulb gets a good dose of aroma, your palate will, I assure you, begin to rock a bit.
The upfront taste is salt with bitter and numbing notes from the pepper, bay and thyme. After those sensations fad, the sweet earthy aroma of thyme and pork appear. There is not enough of the aroma of fermentation and decay that I have come to crave in a piece of air dried whole muscle. But that’s no surprise because the loins did not hang for very long. I certainly would have hung them longer, but they were beginning to case harden (dry too much on the outside) and without a way to drive up the humidity of the drying room (our cheese room) I was faced with the choice of either harvesting them now, or letting them hang an shrivel into a a couple of bull pizzles.

The best sauce in the world is hunger.

Lonzino Update

In an earlier post I wrote with some trepidation about a couple of IBP loins that had come into my possession under questionable circumstances and how I decided to cure them just see how they turned out. Well, they turned out much better than I thought they would.

The cure I used was a mixture of salt, salts of nitrate (Instacure) sugar (sucrose) dried thyme, black pepper and bay laurel. The loins were in the cure for ten days, rinsed tied and hung for a little over 4 weeks. The texture is superb, really chewy but not in any way tough. The flavor, alas, is a little disappointing. Like most pork that comes out of the mass production sector of the farming community, you have to spend a lot of time reassuring yourself that what you are eating is really pork and not a facsimile created by a gifted chemist. However, if you chew it slowly and breathe deeply to make sure that your olfactory bulb gets a good dose of aroma, your palate will, I assure you, begin to rock a bit.
The upfront taste is salt with bitter and numbing notes from the pepper, bay and thyme. After those sensations fad, the sweet earthy aroma of thyme and pork appear. There is not enough of the aroma of fermentation and decay that I have come to crave in a piece of air dried whole muscle. But that’s no surprise because the loins did not hang for very long. I certainly would have hung them longer, but they were beginning to case harden (dry too much on the outside) and without a way to drive up the humidity of the drying room (our cheese room) I was faced with the choice of either harvesting them now, or letting them hang an shrivel into a a couple of bull pizzles.

The best sauce in the world is hunger.