Last month, my lovely friend Elise, who is the founder of the Supper Club and a fellow foodophile (we like to eat!), drew the name of a local restaurant out of a hat for the inaugural Supper Club meeting. The crumpled slip proclaimed our destination to be Hugo’s, a posh little joint on Middle Street which serves local, organic food crafted by chef Rob Evans, winner of more awards than you can shake a stick at. He can count himself one of Food & Wine’s Best New Chefs (2004), and last year was declared the “Best Chef North East” by the James Beard Foundation, which Time calls “the Oscars of the food world.”
It is really hard to go wrong with those credentials backing you up.
After tromping down a torn-up, fire-ravaged road, we arrived promptly at 3 minutes past 7 PM, were seated at a small table for two in the middle of the room, and offered our choice of ice water or San Pellegrino. Being the indulgent types, we decided on the San Pellegrino.
We were easily persuaded to go for the six-course, blind tasting menu (prepared with ingredients selected by chef Evans from the day’s farmer’s market) and the accompanying, optional wine pairings.
It was six courses of dainty, well-crafted, delicious foodstuffs, with an amuse-bouche to boot! Not only have I never had an amuse-bouche, but have undoubtedly never been offered one nor encountered any such thing in print matter before. An amuse-bouche, apparently, is “a single, bite-sized hors d'œuvre” if Wikipedia can ever be trusted. But the one we got was so much more than bite-sized. It was a rich and curious
HOUSE CURED HAM GELÉE.
Those four little words roll right off the tongue. Now, typically, anything with CURED HAM in the title is not anything I get fired up about. But this tiny world was full of flavors—olive tapenade on the bottom, a layer of orange crème fraiche, and the hamtacular elegance to set the right mood. No need to worry about portion size with this savory, pre-pre-dinner niblet: it was served in a chilled votive holder.
It came paired with a champagne flute of Saint-Hilaire Blanquette de Limoux, a sparkling wine from the Languedoc France
After adequately whetting our appetites with that little number, we were served our 1st course, dashi cured salmon belly and salmon tartare, paired with pickled ramp, radish, and puffed sushi rice. It was decidedly Asian-inspired, and had all the right touches of seaweed. The salmon was tender and as sushi-grade as anything I encountered at Tsukiji Fish Market. So, what the hell is ramp? Or dashi for that matter?
Dashi: a class of Japanese soups and cooking stocks
Ramp: Wild leek, Allium tricoccum; tastes like a cross between onions and garlic
The sushi rice added a bit of crispness to the dish without overdoing the crunch. There were some added sprinklings of wasabi in there as well to liven up the tongue.
Our 2nd course was the Dwight Shrute of the evening, a rather odd, ill-fitting consommé with three lobster-stuffed rotoli, two fava beans, and a teaspoonful of English peas. You may be of the opinion that English peas are for the English, but, before you hasten for your “flick knife,” take to heart that these peas have another, more familiar street name: green peas. This plain soup lacked the zest of the previous course, and while the rotoli had some pretty decent integrity in its hammy bath, the consistency lacked the excitement the previous courses had brought to the party.
Next we were presented with one of the stand-out courses of the evening, Atlantic fluke amandine. A crunchy almond crust on the outside, tender fish on the inside, and daubs of hollandaise to seal in all the rich flavors. It was paired with a delicate Portuguese wine. After that, we dined on guinea hen served three ways—a tiny fried wing, a square of slow-roasted thigh, and some other part of the poor little thing, set in two half circles. It was all arranged in a neat row with a blast of shitake mushrooms and wheat berries galore.
As for the last two courses, these photos give a better summary than I could even attempt.
5th: foie gras mousse with brandied cherries, biscotti crumbs, and Banyuls sabayon
6th: blueberry blini with mascarpone fluff, blueberry jam, and lemon confit
A surprise bonus 7th was a Campari-rosemary popsicle. Which we savored even more when we saw the bill for our six-course bonanvaganza: $273.92. Was it worth it? Three words: Cured ham gelée.
