For quite a while I've been curious about the wacky, inventive and
downright saliva-inducing meals, or rather "experiments" at the Cobaya
dinners. An unexpected "lottery win," I couldn't believe our good
fortune when I found out we'd made the cut. After an agonizing few
weeks of guessing "what chef will they snag this time" we found
ourselves at Sustain, a restaurant I'm already fond of (my previous Sustain review), and where I had no qulams that the chef would be up to the challenge. I couldn't wait to see what would happen when they had free reign to unleash their creativity without fear of substitutions or complaints from picky eaters (as this is one of the known caveats to Cobaya, there are no choices and you are not allowed to make alterations).
They generously closed off the restaurant, allowing us to spread out inside the dining room. Once seated at the tables, we were able to peruse the menu listing all of the courses, for which there was a Sicilian theme going. I'll admit I don't quite know enough Italian to try to guess what the dishes were (not that this stopped me from trying), but thankfully the chef and manager came out to introduce themselves to to give us an extensive description of the meal in store.
The apertivo included a lovely champagne flute filled with a housemade blood orange sorbet and slushy averna (a Sicilian liqueur). An interesting and calculated choice, it served the dual purpose of cleansing our palates with the citrus, while stimulating our appetites further with the averna (a known aperitif).
Next up gamberi with lardo and ricci di mare. "Gamberi" are large shrimp, that were served Spanish-style, meaning the full shell was intact. It has been said that the best way to enjoy them, is to try to crack it open and suck out the head for its savory and nutritious benefits. I know it's considered pretentious in Spain to try to do so with silverware, but I'll admit using my hands just seemed too messy. The meat from the shrimp itself was magnificently sweet and fresh, and consummated perfectly with the thick, creamy, pudding-like lardo and silky, rich uni. A truly gluttonous feast.
To transition between the generously portioned "snacks"and the pasta (a traditional first main plate course in an Italian meal) we received a high-quality salad, complete with seppie, 'oliva', frisée and caviar. With far more gusto that such a refined dish requires I couldn't help but down the entire plate. The frisée was incredibly light and flavorful, while the cuttlefish rings (both natural and breaded) and caviar pearls provided a subtle saltiness and balance. I can't even begin to guess what they did with the olive to make it taste so unique, but all I can say is that if you could get that sneaky, slippery blob onto your spoon and into your mouth without bursting it, you were in for a fantastically fun explosion of olive flavor.
Enter the pasta course, "malloreddus con ragu di cinghale." When I was in Italy this was one of the hardest concepts for me to master. No matter how many restaurants we visited, nor how many insistances from my Italian friends that it's the proper way, I just can't find the room to stomach an entire plate of pasta as a mere "warm-up" (and this is after appetizers and/or salad of course). I've become so accustomed to eating a heaping portion by itself (as are most Americans), that I'm usually full after the primi piatti. This issue was only compounded by the knowledge that I had three courses to go and the plate that Sustain gave us was some of the most scrumptious pasta I've ever had. Perfectly al dente little tendrils of malloreddus were lightly tossed with a bold cinghale (wild boar) ragu. The earthy meat was exceptionally succulent, it coated the Sardinain pasta in an utterly phenomenal way. The addition of quality slivers of fresh Italian cheese only bolstered my speed. I'm ashamed to admit, I could not leave even a single piece on the plate, essentially filling up knowing I should not. Highly successful!
Considering I've been studying neuroscience for quite a while, I would like to make it clear that at no point in my studies or research have I ever looked at a brain and said "Yum!" The whole zombie concept of brain consumption seemed little more than a remote and disgusting possibility in my line of work. Hence when the course actually arrived I did what any curious foodie would do...I forced my inner Hannibal Lector to the surface, tried to forget about the origin of the dish (which wasn't easy considering the organ in question was presented inside the skull cavity), and dug in fork ready! Mind over matter if you can transverse that psychological barrier, it was quite lovely. Breaded and served with a tart lemon sauce with capers, I found it to be reminiscent of a cross between croquettas and chicken (or rather a tofu version) francese. Once you finished that interesting culinary delicacy, we were instructed to flip the dish over where an entire half of a baby goat's head greeted up with teeth bared and a caramel colored finish. Definitely impressive. Trying to break the meat free proved a bit of a fun game, tearing open cheeks and jaws to reach the very tender meat beneath. By the end of the course our table looked like the elephant graveyard in the Lion King.
Just when I thought I couldn't eat any more...out came dessert or rather, desserts. The first of the two was a caradamom panna cotta with arancia rossa and torta all' olio d'oliva. The cardamom was not as dominant as I had imagined, rather an interesting background on a vanilla base. I've heard it said that you know your panna cotta (or cheesecake) is ready when it's the firmness is equitable to that of a natural breast. If that's the case, then Sustain hit it point on. The candied pistachios added a nice contrasting amount of crunch to the jiggly velvet cream. While the cube of olive oil cake was moist, it wasn't really my thing. However that candied sunset colored arancia rossa (a red orange from Sicily) was divine! A chewy, caramely concoction that left me smacking my gums and trying to get every last drop of flavor out.
And just because those generous and sadistic geniuses wanted to make sure I didn't eat for the next two days, out came dessert number two, sebadas stuffed with young pecorino with homemade almond milk sorbet and Sardinian honey. Unlike the richness in the pannacotta, this dessert was sweet, but in a more subtle way. The fried ravioli with pecorino would have been a strangely salty finish except the adddition of honey nullified this from happening. The almond milk sorbet was subtle but absolutely etheral, reinforced with candied almond garnish to further stress the sweet/salty dicotomy. As the final course it was just enough yin and yang to leave your palate perfectly neutralized.
Thanks to Sustain, to Chef Alejandro Piñero for his wonderful handiwork, to Johnathan Lazar, and to Cobaya for putting the whole meal together! It was the gourmet trip to Sicily I've never experienced. I'd also like to thank the Miami Malt Bomb for his generous beer contributions throughout the evening. Guava Groove, Les Deux Brasseurs, Vapeur de Bises...they really enhanced the innovative dishes we were brought. Definitely a night I won't soon forget!
They generously closed off the restaurant, allowing us to spread out inside the dining room. Once seated at the tables, we were able to peruse the menu listing all of the courses, for which there was a Sicilian theme going. I'll admit I don't quite know enough Italian to try to guess what the dishes were (not that this stopped me from trying), but thankfully the chef and manager came out to introduce themselves to to give us an extensive description of the meal in store.
The apertivo included a lovely champagne flute filled with a housemade blood orange sorbet and slushy averna (a Sicilian liqueur). An interesting and calculated choice, it served the dual purpose of cleansing our palates with the citrus, while stimulating our appetites further with the averna (a known aperitif).
Next up gamberi with lardo and ricci di mare. "Gamberi" are large shrimp, that were served Spanish-style, meaning the full shell was intact. It has been said that the best way to enjoy them, is to try to crack it open and suck out the head for its savory and nutritious benefits. I know it's considered pretentious in Spain to try to do so with silverware, but I'll admit using my hands just seemed too messy. The meat from the shrimp itself was magnificently sweet and fresh, and consummated perfectly with the thick, creamy, pudding-like lardo and silky, rich uni. A truly gluttonous feast.
To transition between the generously portioned "snacks"and the pasta (a traditional first main plate course in an Italian meal) we received a high-quality salad, complete with seppie, 'oliva', frisée and caviar. With far more gusto that such a refined dish requires I couldn't help but down the entire plate. The frisée was incredibly light and flavorful, while the cuttlefish rings (both natural and breaded) and caviar pearls provided a subtle saltiness and balance. I can't even begin to guess what they did with the olive to make it taste so unique, but all I can say is that if you could get that sneaky, slippery blob onto your spoon and into your mouth without bursting it, you were in for a fantastically fun explosion of olive flavor.
Enter the pasta course, "malloreddus con ragu di cinghale." When I was in Italy this was one of the hardest concepts for me to master. No matter how many restaurants we visited, nor how many insistances from my Italian friends that it's the proper way, I just can't find the room to stomach an entire plate of pasta as a mere "warm-up" (and this is after appetizers and/or salad of course). I've become so accustomed to eating a heaping portion by itself (as are most Americans), that I'm usually full after the primi piatti. This issue was only compounded by the knowledge that I had three courses to go and the plate that Sustain gave us was some of the most scrumptious pasta I've ever had. Perfectly al dente little tendrils of malloreddus were lightly tossed with a bold cinghale (wild boar) ragu. The earthy meat was exceptionally succulent, it coated the Sardinain pasta in an utterly phenomenal way. The addition of quality slivers of fresh Italian cheese only bolstered my speed. I'm ashamed to admit, I could not leave even a single piece on the plate, essentially filling up knowing I should not. Highly successful!
Considering I've been studying neuroscience for quite a while, I would like to make it clear that at no point in my studies or research have I ever looked at a brain and said "Yum!" The whole zombie concept of brain consumption seemed little more than a remote and disgusting possibility in my line of work. Hence when the course actually arrived I did what any curious foodie would do...I forced my inner Hannibal Lector to the surface, tried to forget about the origin of the dish (which wasn't easy considering the organ in question was presented inside the skull cavity), and dug in fork ready! Mind over matter if you can transverse that psychological barrier, it was quite lovely. Breaded and served with a tart lemon sauce with capers, I found it to be reminiscent of a cross between croquettas and chicken (or rather a tofu version) francese. Once you finished that interesting culinary delicacy, we were instructed to flip the dish over where an entire half of a baby goat's head greeted up with teeth bared and a caramel colored finish. Definitely impressive. Trying to break the meat free proved a bit of a fun game, tearing open cheeks and jaws to reach the very tender meat beneath. By the end of the course our table looked like the elephant graveyard in the Lion King.
Just when I thought I couldn't eat any more...out came dessert or rather, desserts. The first of the two was a caradamom panna cotta with arancia rossa and torta all' olio d'oliva. The cardamom was not as dominant as I had imagined, rather an interesting background on a vanilla base. I've heard it said that you know your panna cotta (or cheesecake) is ready when it's the firmness is equitable to that of a natural breast. If that's the case, then Sustain hit it point on. The candied pistachios added a nice contrasting amount of crunch to the jiggly velvet cream. While the cube of olive oil cake was moist, it wasn't really my thing. However that candied sunset colored arancia rossa (a red orange from Sicily) was divine! A chewy, caramely concoction that left me smacking my gums and trying to get every last drop of flavor out.
And just because those generous and sadistic geniuses wanted to make sure I didn't eat for the next two days, out came dessert number two, sebadas stuffed with young pecorino with homemade almond milk sorbet and Sardinian honey. Unlike the richness in the pannacotta, this dessert was sweet, but in a more subtle way. The fried ravioli with pecorino would have been a strangely salty finish except the adddition of honey nullified this from happening. The almond milk sorbet was subtle but absolutely etheral, reinforced with candied almond garnish to further stress the sweet/salty dicotomy. As the final course it was just enough yin and yang to leave your palate perfectly neutralized.