The staff of Frasca Food & Wine in Boulder has returned from its two-week winter break thirsty to resume its Monday Night Wine Dinners. On Monday, Steve Lewis will discuss Isole e Olena wines from Tuscany. On Monday, Feb. 5, Zach Locke, a local wine sommelier and owner of Old World Imports in Eagle, Colorado will discuss Champagne and Burgundy wines.
The Monday Night Wine Dinners are $35 per person, unless otherwise noted, and are held at Frasca Food and Wine, 1738 Pearl Street in Boulder, on the southwest corner of Pearl and 18th streets. For reservations or more information, 303-442-6966.
The restaurant’s co-owners Bobby Stuckey and Lachlan Mackinnon-Patterson, and their wives Danette and Allison, are featured in a 10-page article in the February issue of Food & Wine Magazine that was photographed at the Fetcher Ranch outside of Steamboat Springs, last summer.
Former Denver Post restaurant critic Kyle Wagner reviewed Frasca in 2005, and wrote about the legendary French Laundry, where Stuckey and Mackinnon-Patterson both worked. The review, story and recipes appear here. – Food editor Kristen Browning-Blas
By Kyle Wagner
Denver Post Dining Critic
Boulder – From now on, my life will be divided into two time periods: before I ate at Frasca and after I ate at Frasca.
This restaurant exudes a generosity of spirit and the diner feels ministered to, inspiring this critic to write an unprecedented rave.
Frasca proves that diners can discover the profound when a restaurant uses classic techniques, simple, straightforward execution and the best ingredients available.
That philosophy applies to the kitchen or the dining room, the wine glass or the plate, the server or the busboy.
It’s not about conspicuous consumption. It is about treating food (and people) with as much respect as possible and then appreciating it (and them).
Frasca opened in Boulder in August without much fanfare, although it certainly had every right to tap its own wine glass with a knife to get our attention. Owners Bobby Stuckey and Lachlan Mackinnon-Patterson have an impressive set of credentials between them.
Stuckey is one of the 60 members of the American Court of Master Sommeliers, and he and chef Mackinnon-Patterson are both alumni of The French Laundry, the restaurant that has changed the palette of American dining (and the palates of American diners) from its Napa Valley home in Yountville, Calif., almost from the moment it opened in 1994.
Stuckey also had spent a half-dozen years as the sommelier at the Little Nell in Aspen, and he and Mackinnon-Patterson spent several months working in Boulder’s Mateo last year before taking over this space a few blocks off the Pearl Street Mall that was the Corner Gourmet.
In creating a home for their offerings, the pair wisely decided to go understated with white, brown and black, starting with the brown leather curtain at the front door that keeps the cold from edging into the warm dining area. It gives a dramatic entree to the space, and it signals the staff to be there every time for the welcome.
Toward the center of the dining room sits a rustic wooden table with a vase that holds oversized forsythia branches. They symbolize the restaurant’s name, which refers to informal gathering places in an area of Italy called Friuli-Venezia Giulia, where farmers, friends and families once ate and drank during the harvest.
Frascas were identified by branches hanging over doorways, indicating that a barn or house was open for such a meal. Although such get-togethers are rare in these modern times, Stuckey and Mackinnon-Patterson evoke their simplicity and conviviality here.
Since Stuckey is a master sommelier, Frasca is very much about wine. Each diner is offered a complimentary tajut (tah-JOOT, the “j” as in Taj Mahal), which means “a cut” or small amount (in this case 3 ounces) of Tocai Friulano, a mild white that is a pleasure to sip while perusing the menu.
The whole by-the-glass roster is also available tajut-sized, and diners can opt to have their courses paired for them. Or pick a bottle from the delightful list, any of which will be a bargain, since no wine is listed at more than $20 over retail. There are 200 varieties from wineries and makers you have and haven’t heard of.
Stuckey, 35, is also just about the least stuck-up sommelier you’re likely to encounter. Asking him for advice on a wine is like asking your bud from college to stop by the table and tell you if the new Eminem is worth checking out.
Mackinnon-Patterson is young too (29), so it’s a surprise that he already seems to have such an understanding of the importance of showcasing stellar ingredients at their peaks, and he tells us on the menu where he gets them. At Frasca, this doesn’t come off as pretentious. Instead, he pays homage to the farmers because he knows how to use their foods.
In other words, he doesn’t mess with things too much, instead figuring out what flavors will match well with each other and then letting them go. There was never a brown lettuce leaf to be seen, a sliver of fruit that didn’t explode with ripeness.
He and Stuckey have chosen to dedicate Frasca to the foods and wines of the Friuli region, a part of Italy that sits way up in the northeast and has the unique position of being Italian influenced by the bordering fare of Austria and Slovenia, with the seafood and the salt of the Adriatic Sea.
It’s akin to someone going to Rome to open an American restaurant and announcing that it features the foods and wines of Puget Sound.
Mackinnon-Patterson’s travels through Italy, his time at the French Laundry and three years in France have given him the courage to go ahead and make his own ricotta ($9) and put it with a piece of perfectly ripe quince marinated in brown butter, so that the rich edges of the butter cut into the fruit. It was bold and creamy, and it made us say, “Oh, my God,” in a way that was at once reverential and sacrilegious.
And it turned out to be that way with so much of Mackinnon-Patterson’s food. Smoked minestrone ($9) came with that ricotta made into little dumplings, and a leek salad, tiny, diced vegetables al dente in a densely flavored broth that was part curative elixir and part Nonna’s brew. Soft heirloom polenta ($10) with mushroom broth and onion salad wasn’t just “soft,” it was a case for the inadequacies of thesauruses, because “plush,” “velvety” and “cushiony” just don’t cut it.
Grilled Maine sea scallops ($14) had the same texture as the polenta, but were matched so well with achingly sweet-tart red grapefruit that I wondered why the fruit isn’t actually a sea vegetable so the darned things can just be caught and cooked together all the time. Long Acre Ranch prime beef salad ($11) with romaine and Parmesan vinaigrette, visually my least favorite dish, brought beef so well-textured that eating meat cold all the time could become a trend.
The menu, which changes as often as weekly, announces that “21 Orders” of the house-made chestnut agnolotti ($16) are made each night, and woe to you if you are No. 22. Chestnut is little used in this country, and that’s so sad, because it’s such a sweet, nutty taste. Here, smoky bacon and a slightly sweet celery root broth catches the other flavors in its earthy depths so that when all of the moist little pasta pockets are gone, you get to enjoy them all over with some of bread, so smartly thinly sliced here.
If you’ve never eaten pork belly, this is the place to do it. In the purest terms, it’s bacon in all its fatty, uncured glory, and at Frasca it comes braised ($22), sliced about a half-inch thick and set atop hedgehog mushrooms and apple chutney for a smoky-sweet combination that makes you wish breakfast habits would change in a hurry.
No less heady is preserved leg of Ken Macy lamb ($23), done stufato (stew) style, with silky bubbles of puréed potato sharing space in the lamb-sweet broth.
Elsewhere, dessert can be a letdown, but pastry chef Brendan Sodikoff (another French Laundry alum) and his staff of Megan Rule and Brad Yeomans, who handles the house-made gelatos and sorbetti, pull off the finales with aplomb.
The peanut butter cup ($6) is the one to have. An egg-shaped gelato of Valrhona chocolate was surrounded by a moat of warm peanut butter and chocolate froth. The half-dozen ice creams and sorbets ($2 per scoop) are well-crafted as well, and the tarts ($6-$8) use the fresh fruit of the day.
And the last, but certainly not least, part of the dining experience, the service, is so well done at Frasca that it almost deserves its own review.
When courses needed to be hurried or held off, they were. Water was poured when some had been drunk, not when the glass was empty or one sip had been taken. Flatware arrived before the food, not at the same time or after. No one got whacked in the back with a server’s rear end, and information was shared as though by a confidante, not a professor or a tired actor wannabe.
The servers here are self-aware, not self-important. The meal isn’t about them or about the restaurant. It’s about the diner, and what the diner wants and needs.
Every server reading this should read that paragraph again.
And other restaurants should be on notice. After 14 years of reviewing, some might call me a little cranky. But before Frasca, I was willing to settle. Now, after Frasca, we’d all be crazy to.
Dining critic Kyle Wagner can be reached at 303-820-1958 or kwagner@denverpost.com.
More online: Find an archive of Kyle Wagner’s previous dining reviews. www.denverpost.com/restaurants
Frasca
Italian
1738 Pearl St., Boulder, 303-442-6966****
Atmosphere: Brown, black and white, fresh flowers and a sense of being someplace special.
Service: Simultaneously fluid and precise, with a flair for pampering.
Wine list: No bottle priced more than $20 over retail, with 200 varieties chosen equally from famous and lesser-known vineyards and winemakers.
Dinner entrees: $15-$28
Hours: 5:30 p.m. to close Monday-Saturday
Details: All major credit cards; street parking; medium noisy; no smoking; wheelchair accessible; reservations strongly suggested.
Three visits
By Ellen Sweets
The Denver Post Staff Writer
If you’re wondering how a place that washes clothes can also serve fancy food, here’s how a chef named Thomas Keller opened The French Laundry 10 years ago in a remote Napa Valley outpost and changed the way many Americans relate to food.
Long before the restaurant ascended to its current lofty spot in the nation’s gastronomic hierarchy, the 1900s stone cottage that houses the restaurant was a saloon and brothel that indeed became a French steam laundry.
Reincarnated as a restaurant in late 1994, The French Laundry was still surrounded by a country garden planted with vintage roses, flowers and seasonal herbs and vegetables.
Chefs and food aficionados from across the country came in droves. Reservations were booked months in advance. People planned their vacations around a meal at “The Laundry.”
Here was a restaurant that allowed flavors to speak for themselves. No towers, no geometric puzzles, no multitiered flavors jousting with one another for dominance. No overwhelmingly rich sauces. Just pure flavor.
Its success represents a true harmonic convergence: exquisite food in an idyllic setting, where herbs and lettuces grow on the premises; sommeliers pour wine that is perfectly paired with each course; waiters view service as art; and food enthusiasts, ever on the prowl for the next new, wonderful thing, who spread the word.
It was a daring idea, and at the time, while many wished Keller well, some quietly thought he had lost his marbles.
His philosophy, which includes the notion that fine food could be simultaneously serious and fun, is reflected in his high-concept variation on a childhood favorite, lobster macaroni and cheese – handmade pasta, a zillion-step lobster sauce and mascarpone.
Keller’s whimsy also comes through in his miniaturized “ice cream cone” – a savory tuile filled with a tiny scoop of salmon tartare topped with an even tinier dollop of red onion crème fraîche, presented with a wink and a smile. In a 1996 report from Napa, former Denver Post dining critic John Kessler called it the “goofiest appetizer that works.”
When Keller, who never finished college, came to Denver in 2003 to receive an honorary doctor of culinary arts degree from Johnson & Wales University, he said he got the inspiration for the cone while sitting in Baskin-Robbins.
Still, the French Laundry experience isn’t only about elegant food puns. It’s about atmosphere, attention to detail and service.
The French Laundry treats food as a sensual, aesthetic and social experience. Yet by some sort of culinary magic, it is possible to complete a nine-course, $175 meal without feeling stuffed. And the restaurant continues to be booked weeks in advance.
In his hefty “French Laundry Cookbook,” Keller takes Americans to task for our inattention to good food: “Cooking is not about convenience and it’s not about shortcuts. The recipes in this book are about wanting to take the time to do something that I think is priceless. Our hunger for the 20-minute gourmet meal, for one-pot ease and prewashed, pre-cut ingredients, has severed our lifeline to the satisfactions of cooking.”
Gourmet contributing editor Caroline Bates first ate at Keller’s place several months after it opened, and calls it “the best restaurant I’ve ever been to.”
She says Keller’s perfectionism and quiet focus in the kitchen comes through in his food. “He has a very good sense of flavors and taste and technique,” she says. Those who pass through his kitchen absorb many lessons.
“He is not an egotist at all; he just demands from others what he demands from himself,” she said by telephone from Santa Barbara, Calif. “Everybody I know who has come out of that kitchen has learned so much and how to relate to each other too.”
To understand what’s going on at Boulder’s Frasca, opened in August by four former French Laundry staffers, think of a meditation on something of beauty. A transitory, yet quietly comforting sense of well-being touches an inner place that is simultaneously quiet and simple; dramatic and complex.
Translate that experience to food, and you have one of the reasons the French Laundry has remained at the top of so many critics’ and diners’ lists, and why Frasca might be on its way there.
“If they’re half as good, you’re very lucky there,” said Bates.
Staff writer Kristen Browning-Blas contributed to this report.
Staff writer Ellen Sweets can be reached at 303-820-1284 or esweets@denverpost.com.
The French Laundry
6640 Washington St.
Yountville, CA 94599
707-944-2380
Reservations can be made by phone 10 a.m.-5:30 p.m. or online at OpenTable.com. No jeans, T-shirts, shorts or tennis shoes. Jackets are required for both lunch and dinner service. Ties are optional. MasterCard, Visa and American Express accepted. Wheelchair access.
Lunch and dinner: $175 Nine Course Chef’s Tasting Menu; $175 Seven Course Menu; $175 Nine Course Vegetable Tasting Menu. Dinner daily, 5:30 p.m.-9 p.m.
Lunch, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, 11:00 a.m.-1 p.m.
Recipes
Thomas Keller’s Favorite Simple Roast Chicken
When you truss a bird, the wings and legs stay close to the body; the ends of the drumsticks cover the top of the breast and keep it from drying out. Trussing helps the chicken to cook evenly, and it also makes for a more beautiful roasted bird, says Thomas Keller in “Bouchon” (Artisan, 2004). Makes 2-4 servings.
Ingredients
One 2- to 3-pound farm-raised chicken
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons minced thyme (optional)
Unsalted butter
Dijon mustard
Directions
Preheat oven to 450. Rinse chicken, then dry it very well with paper towels, inside and out. The less it steams, the drier the heat, the better.
Salt and pepper the cavity, then truss the bird: Place chicken on a tray with the legs toward you. Tuck the wing tips under the bird. Cut a piece of kitchen twine about 3 feet long and center it on top of the neck end of the breast. Lift neck end of the bird and pull the twine down around the wings and under the chicken, then bring ends up over the breast, toward you, and knot twine, pulling it tight to plump the breast. Bring ends of twine around the ends of drumsticks and straight up. Tie as before to pull drumsticks together; tie again to secure knot.
Now, salt the chicken – I like to rain the salt over the bird so that it has a nice uniform coating that will result in a crisp, salty, flavorful skin (about 1 tablespoon). When it’s cooked, you should still be able to make out the salt baked onto the crisp skin. Season to taste with pepper.
Place chicken in a sauté pan or roasting pan and, when oven is up to temperature, put chicken in oven. I leave it alone – I don’t baste it, I don’t add butter; you can if you wish, but I feel this creates steam, which I don’t want. Roast it until it’s done, 50-60 minutes. (Be prepared for some smoke.) Remove it from oven and add thyme, if using, to pan. Baste chicken with juices and thyme and let it rest 15 minutes on a cutting board.
Remove twine. Separate middle wing joint and eat that immediately. Remove the legs and thighs. I like to take off the backbone and eat one of the oysters, the two succulent morsels of meat embedded here, and give the other to the person I’m cooking with. But I take the chicken butt for myself. I could never understand why my brothers always fought over that triangular tip – until one day I got the crispy, juicy fat myself. These are the cook’s rewards. Cut the breast down the middle and serve it on the bone, with one wing joint still attached to each. The preparation is not meant to be super- elegant. Slather the meat with fresh butter. Serve with mustard on the side and, if you wish, a simple green salad.
Wine ideas: The idea may be French-inspired, but it’s universal in appeal. Almost any medium-bodied red will be marvelous with this, but I’d take a cue from Bouchon’s by-the-glass list and go with Saintsbury’s Carneros Pinot Noir or Joseph Phelp’s wonderfully affordable Le Mistral from California.
– Tara Q. Thomas
Hard-Cooked Eggs in Russian Dressing
“How good eggs are – they’re ordinary and surprising at the same time. I serve these eggs as part of an hors d’oeuvres variés, rather than as an individual dish. For me, part of the pleasure of this preparation is that it’s reminiscent of the 1970s American version of Continental cuisine, for which I have an abiding nostalgia,” Thomas Keller writes in “Bouchon” (Artisan, 2004). Makes 6 1-egg servings.
Ingredients
6 hard-cooked large eggs
Sauce:
1 cup mayonnaise
3 tablespoons bottled chili sauce
1 tablespoon minced shallots
1 tablespoon minced Italian parsley
2 teaspoons minced chives
1 tablespoon minced green olives
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Fresh lemon juice to taste
Directions
For the eggs: Put eggs in a single layer in a saucepan and cover by about 2 inches with cold water. Bring the water to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 1 minute. Turn off heat and let eggs stand in the water for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, prepare an ice bath.
After 10 minutes, remove an egg and crack it open to check the yolk. It should be bright yellow and cooked but still creamy; if it’s not, let eggs stand 1-2 more minutes. Transfer the eggs to the ice bath to chill for several minutes, then drain and peel.
For the sauce: Combine all ingredients in a small bowl, mixing well. Cover and refrigerate for a few hours to allow the flavors to develop.
To serve: Cut the hard-cooked eggs lengthwise in half and place them cut-side down on a serving platter. Spoon the sauce generously over the eggs.
Wine ideas: To really get the ’70s vibe going, pick up a jug of Almaden Mountain Chablis. Far classier, though, and tastier with these saucy eggs would be champagne. Play up the Franco-Russian inspiration of the dish with Roederer’s Cristal, which was designed for Tsar Alexander II in 1876, or opt for their Brut Premier, which sells for a fraction of Cristal’s price. – Tara Q. Thomas
Cauliflower Gratin
“Cauliflower is a great but underused vegetable. One of the things I appreciate, from a cook’s standpoint, is that it’s almost impossible to overcook it. And I like this recipe in particular because it uses the trimmings of the cauliflower too, in a purée that becomes part of the sauce,” writes Thomas Keller in “Bouchon” (Artisan, 2004). Makes 4 servings.
Ingredients
1 head (about 1 3/4 pounds) cauliflower
Kosher salt
1 teaspoon white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 tablespoons minced shallots
Freshly ground black pepper
1 bay leaf
1 thyme sprig
1 Italian parsley sprig
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon prepared horseradish
Pinch of curry powder
Freshly grated nutmeg
1/3 cup grated Comté or Emmentaler cheese
1 tablespoon panko (Japanese bread crumbs) or fine dried bread crumbs
Directions
Remove and discard green leaves from cauliflower. Cut away florets, reserving core. Cut off and reserve stems. Cut florets in pieces that measure about 1 inch. (You should have 4 to 5 cups of florets.)
With a paring knife, cut away and discard the tough exterior of the core, then cut core into small pieces and place them in a food processor. Add reserved stem trimmings and pulse until very finely chopped, just short of a purée. (You should have about 1 cup; if you don’t, purée enough florets to make 1 cup.)
Meanwhile, bring a large saucepan of water to boil. Season water with salt and vinegar. (The acid in the vinegar helps keep the cauliflower white.) Add half the cauliflower florets and blanch for 2 minutes. Remove with a strainer or slotted spoon, drain well and place in a large bowl. Repeat with remaining florets: Blanch, drain, and add to bowl. Set saucepan aside. Season florets with salt to taste.
Add butter and shallots to saucepan, place over medium heat, and cook gently 1-2 minutes, or until shallots are translucent. Season with salt and pepper and add bay leaf, thyme and parsley. Add minced cauliflower and 2/3 cup water and cook gently 5-6 minutes, or until most of the moisture has evaporated and cauliflower is tender. If all the water evaporates before cauliflower is tender, add more.
Add cream, bring to a simmer, and simmer for 2 minutes. Remove from heat and discard thyme, bay leaf and parsley. Pour the mixture into a blender, and let it cool for 5 minutes.
Add horseradish to blender and pulse at the lowest speed to release the heat, then increase the speed and purée until smooth. Add curry powder and blend at high speed about 15 seconds. Toss the pureé with cauliflower florets and season with nutmeg, salt and pepper to taste.
Transfer cauliflower to an 8-inch round gratin dish or individual gratin dishes. The cream should come about halfway up the florets. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or up to a day to allow the flavors to mature.
Preheat the oven to 450.
Sprinkle gratin(s) with cheese and bread crumbs. Place in oven to cook about 15 minutes, or until it is bubbling and the center is warm. You can test it by inserting a metal skewer into the center of the gratin and touching it to your lower lip: It should feel hot. Remove gratin(s) from oven and turn broiler on. Brown top of gratin(s) and serve.
Wine ideas: Mark Twain said that cauliflower “is nothing but a cabbage with a college education.” If that’s so, this is cauliflower with a Ph.D. Match its richness and complex flavors with a rich-but-not-too-oaky chardonnay; Smith-Madrone makes good examples from California, while Olivier Merlin makes a relatively affordable mâcon from France.
– Tara Q. Thomas
Bibb Lettuce Salad
This salad is all about freshness, says Thomas Keller. Use plenty of freshly picked fines herbs: parsley, chives, tarragon and chervil; harder herbs, such as savory, rosemary and marjoram, would be too strong. Finish it with a squeeze of lemon juice. Buy nice rounded, mature heads of Bibb lettuce, with good weight; these will have the greatest amount of tender yellow interior leaves. If the leaves have become at all soft and leathery, a rinse in cold water will refresh them. From “Bouchon” (Artisan, 2004), this recipe makes 4 servings.
Ingredients
House vinaigrette:
1/4 cup Dijon mustard
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1 1/2 cups canola oil
Salad:
4 heads Bibb lettuce
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons minced shallots
2 tablespoons minced chives
1/4 cup Italian parsley leaves
1/4 cup tarragon leaves
1/4 cup chervil leaves
1/2 cup house vinaigrette
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
Directions
Make vinaigrette: Combine mustard and and vinegar in a blender and blend at medium speed 15 seconds. With the machine running, slowly drizzle in 1/2 cup oil. Don’t be tempted to add all the oil to the blender, or the vinaigrette will become too thick. It should be very creamy. Transfer vinaigrette to a small bowl, and, whisking constantly, slowly stream in remaining oil. (The dressing can be refrigerated for up to 2 weeks. Should the vinaigrette separate, use a blender or immersion blender to re-emulsify.) Makes about 2 1/2 cups.
Make salad: Carefully cut out core from each head of lettuce and separate the leaves, but keep each head of lettuce together; discard any tough outer leaves. Because each head of lettuce will be reassembled, the easiest way to work is with one head at a time. First, place leaves in a bowl of cold water to refresh them and remove any dirt, then lift out and spin-dry in a salad spinner.
Place leaves from a single head of lettuce in a bowl. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt, a few grinds of pepper, 1 1/2 teaspoons shallots and chives, and 1 tablespoon each of the parsley, tarragon and chervil. Then toss gently with 2 tablespoons vinaigrette and 1 teaspoon lemon juice. Repeat with remaining heads.
For each serving, arrange the outer lettuce leaves as a base on the plate and rebuild each head of lettuce, ending with the smallest, most tender leaves.
Wine ideas: So simple and so delicate, this ode to Bibb lettuce needs nothing to accompany it. But if you must, find the lightest, most delicate white possible, like a Muscadet from Clos de Beauregard or Luneau-Papin – both under $13.
– Tara Q. Thomas
