Local Options

Regional American cooking is shaped by what's at hand

By Laura Yee, Senior Editor -- Restaurants & Institutions, 8/15/2003

At Wally Joe’s restaurant in Memphis, ginger, soy and sticky rice find their way onto the menu. So do grits, catfish and foie gras as well as organic pork from the Midwest.

The concept is not traditional fusion, merging Asian and French cuisines to appeal to the gentility of Southern diners. It’s what Wally Joe, whose parents are from China, calls modern regional American fare.

“My cooking is a reflection of who I am, where I am and where I have been,” says Joe, the chef-owner who is committed to locally grown food and respectful of classic French techniques. “It reflects my Asian heritage and growing up in the rural Deep South where collards, grits and sweet potatoes are everyday foods. All of this influences my cooking.”

Mississippi quail served with crispy okra, green-tomato relish and barbecue-balsamic glaze is on the appetizer menu alongside Asian-spiced tuna tartare with sesame seaweed and nori chips. However, the entrée that best personifies the very Southern Joe is a quartet of organic pork preparations: Braised fresh bacon accompanies lentils and truffles; lightly smoked pork loin is paired with goat-cheese grits; roasted shank gets a sweet-potato purée; and barbecued spareribs are matched with Asian slaw.

Great divides
Foodservice increasingly reflects flavors and culinary traditions that are grounded in a given locale. Proximity to waterways, woodlands and ingredients from nearby farms or ranches inspires menus and concepts. Almost all foods have historical rationales and roots in specific regions, resulting both in classical renditions and modern interpretations. Not coincidentally, local cuisine generally goes hand in hand with fresh and seasonal, trends that transcend geography.

In the hands of accomplished chefs, regional American is more personal and interpretational, a blending of local bounty and creative whim. “I never thought of potatoes as regional,” says John Bubala, chef-owner of Thyme in Chicago. “But in the Midwest more than anywhere else, my experience has shown me that you’ve got to have potatoes on the menu.”

A shore thing
Michael Lomonaco’s latest venture pays homage to classic New England fare. At Shore House Restaurant & Tavern, which opened last month in Stamford, Conn., clam chowder is served three ways: creamy white New England-style with chunks of potatoes; a Connecticut chowder with clear clam broth; and a Rhode Island interpretation that is spicy, and red from the addition of tomatoes. All three are lushly flavored, benefiting from the juice of fresh, briny clams.

Recognizing that the East is not the only coast, the menu gives a nod to the West and South. The Tuesday special is San Francisco cioppino, an Italian-inspired fish stew with shrimp, lobster, scallops, bass and garlic croutons. On Fridays, Gumbo Pot—a mélange of Cajun shrimp, crab and andouille sausage—accents the menu.

Following regional lines, Ninety-Nine Restaurant & Pub, a Woburn, Mass.-based chain of more than 80 units in New England, recently added more seafood choices to its menu. For summer, selections include New England Scallop Pie (baked scallop casserole with lobster sauce and topped with seafood breadcrumbs) and a classic lobster roll (chunks of lobster mixed with mayonnaise piled in a toasted hot-dog-style roll).

Points of origin
Consumers continue to express curiosity about the sources of food, especially on restaurant menus. Knowing that fish is from the Pacific Northwest or that mushrooms are grown in Pennsylvania provides diners a sense of security, operators say. It also can heighten quality perceptions.

“Fish can be caught in any part of the world, but when you tell your customers that it’s Alaskan halibut, you get across a sense of quality,” says Lowell Petrie, vice president of marketing for Newport Beach, Calif.-based Ruby’s Diner, which makes a point of describing the fish tacos on its menu as made with Alaskan halibut. “You’re giving consumers food that means something to them.”

Jerome Dorsch, chef at Four West in Baltimore, believes that American food is composed of everyday favorites. Such thinking is central to the restaurant, billed as an American brasserie.

Slow-roasted St. Louis-style ribs are served with Roquefort Slaw and Cotton [fried] Onions. Fried Ipswich clams from Massachusetts pair with calamari and are served over spicy vine-ripened-tomato coulis, roasted garlic aioli, microgreens and shaved pecorino cheese.

“I’m inspired by seasonal ingredients,” Dorsch says. “We go on trips to places from Maine to the Southwest to see what’s going on. I take what I have learned from the classics to fuel my own ambitions and elevate dishes to the next level.”

At Hudson’s Bar & Grill in Vancouver, Wash., a similar philosophy drives the menu. Ample evidence is found in asparagus gratin made with sweet peppers, local mushrooms and Black Forest ham and finished with béarnaise sauce. “Our guests appreciate and enjoy the seasonal freshness, which is highlighted by our close relationships with local growers, and the herbs and vegetables we grow in Hudson’s own garden,” says Executive Chef Mark Hosack.

Land of plenty
Jim Coleman’s interpretation of regional American cooking plays off the land, the history of a restaurant’s location and contemporary presentations. Normandy Farm in Blue Bell, Pa., which opened in July, has roots dating to 1729, when it was a working farm. Today the historic property is home to a restaurant, bed-and-breakfast inn and conference center.

“A lot of what influences American cooking comes from the farm: It’s fresh, local and wholesome,” says Coleman. “When you restore a farmhouse, it doesn’t make sense to do surf and turf. We have a lot of Amish and beautiful farms in the area, so it makes sense to focus on the region.”

Coleman’s cuisine interprets local history in subtle and overt ways. Farmer Corn and Crab Cakes with summer-vegetable slaw and red-pepper purée is his take on corn griddlecakes. Ground corn folded with egg whites is the base for Maryland crab cakes. Organic grass-fed beef is served with roasted potato and vegetable casserole layered with aged Amish cheese and finished with wine sauce.

“The ingredients lead you to the recipes,” Coleman explains. “With proximity to the Chesapeake Bay, our oysters were big as striped bass. So we serve pan-roasted striped bass with oyster-and-smoked-sausage dumplings and a seasonal vegetable stew. We also make lobster scrapple with salmon, lobster, garlic and green onions in a terrine with organic semolina as the binder. It’s sliced and fried to serve with seared salmon.”

Southern comforts
Growing up in San Francisco helped cultivate Neal Langermann’s appreciation for seasonal bounty. When he was named executive chef three years ago at Georgia Brown’s in Washington, D.C., he was intent on staying true to the culture of the local food. “We want to remain ahead of the curve but not lose sight of the fact that what we serve is really comfort food,” Langermann says, describing his approach to Low Country cooking.

His research into traditional Low Country cooking yielded recipes such as perlau, a rice dish passed down from the days of Carolina plantations, but updated with a modern twist. Made with red rice, it is fortified with andouille sausage, duck and green onions and topped with head-on jumbo shrimp.

Langermann’s rendition of fried green tomatoes sandwiches them with a layer of herbed cream cheese. After a dip in egg wash and a dredge of Japanese breadcrumbs, the tomatoes are fried. Perched on green-tomato relish, the dish is complemented with lemon-cayenne mayonnaise and watercress.

“My idea of a great dining experience is to slow down and taste your food,” says Langermann. “We put a little bit of basil in the tomato to give a familiar food something different. It gets people talking and thinking about it.”

California cooking
Since California began setting culinary trends, powered by the likes of Alice Waters and Wolfgang Puck, West Coast fare has moved in many directions. But at its core, the region’s cuisine remains true to its beginnings: food driven by the freshness of local products.

James Boyce, chef at Studio at Montage Resort & Spa in Laguna Beach, Calif., is influenced by fresh, locally grown food as well as training with such luminaries as Daniel Boulud.

“We have access to the most phenomenal products—from small producers of honey to artisanal-cheese makers, for example. And we have fresh produce almost year-round,” says Boyce, whose dining room has floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Pacific Ocean. “We also have seasonal seafood [including halibut and salmon], which people don’t always associate with the area.”

Believing that clarity of flavor is paramount, Boyce’s cooking is straightforward. “Food is not as sculptured or toyed with as much as it was in the ’80s. You still have a pleasant-looking plate, but now the ingredients speak for themselves.”

Flavor comes from cooked and raw ingredients. Compotes, confits and other long-cooking components are giving way to simple sauces energized with citrus.

Boyce roasts local halibut and accompanies it with white beans and ham topped with a salad of frisée, tarragon and chervil. Heirloom tomato salad with a tasting of three kinds of salt (Danish smoked, Peruvian pink and Hawaiian clay) is garnished with avocado, cucumber and tomato juice reduced to syrup.

Says Dorsch: “Regional cooking is what people like to eat. It’s fresh, seasonal and the best of what is American.”