Clark’s Summit 100th Anniversary

On Friday, Nicolas Village in Clark’s summit played host to a wine and dinner event celebrating the 100^th anniversary of the city. Entitled, “Ragtime Roundup,” the theme of the even was to dress from the 1910’s decade. As many people do not have that kind of garb in their dressers and closets, many wore a standard cocktail evening outfit. Many restaurants in the local area were represented, as well as Maiolatesi Winery. Tickets were $20, which included 1 drink ticket.

The pool and the connected ball rooms were filled with guests and food. The local Weis grocery supplied the crab for the crab cakes as you entered. The cakes were deep fried and crispy on the outside without being greasy. The lump of the meat was not as big as you might find in Maryland, but there was not too much filler and the sweetness of the crab came through nicely. Next on the seafood lineup was seared tuna from Formosa. Encrusted wit white sesame seeds and cooked to order, the fish was fresh and clean. Served on a bed of mixed greens with an orange aioli, it was my favorite dish of the night. I preferred mine seared rare with only a dot of the aioli (my personal preference against mayonnaise and its derivative products).

Continuing down the line was sushi from Akita. Also featuring Edamame and seaweed salad, the sushi was one of the first items to go. I much preferred the diced tuna and the crab/avocado to the tempura vegetable. Tempura should be eaten hot from the fryer and crispy. Putting it in a sushi roll only makes the fried batter soft.

Cagiano’s had a fresh fruit tray and crudités platter, standard fare and nothing to speak of. Raganochi’s featured a meatball that was rich and succulent, clearly made with higher fat content beef, served with a tomato sauce and parmesan cheese. There were two pasta dishes, the first being a penne with vodka, heavy with cream and garlic, second was a tortellini in a cream sauce. Another Italian restaurant (I even get mixed up with how many there are) brought a seafood risotto with peas. The seafood was fresh and went well with the cheese (despite the common misconception that seafood and cheese should never go together) but there was not enough seafood for me to taste it.

The final table I tried as a skewer of grill-charred chicken with a balsamic glaze, bruchetta that was heavy with garlic and had chopped kalamata olives. Canolli that was filled and dusted at the table. There was also a beef wellington that came in a puff pastry, though the juices of the beef did not soak through. A chevre, peach and mango salsa was served in a mini martini cup (I say cup because they were plastic). The salsa,(which is what they called it) was good, but there was too much creaminess in it to identify the sweet yet tangy goat cheese. The same table also featured roasted pheasant gnocchi. I love pheasant, but my favorite preparation is smoked because the gaminess of the bird comes through. In with the gnocchi, it tasted more like chicken.

Overall the food was wonderful, but the one free drink ticket was a bit of a letdown. Then again, I’m mostly there for the food rather than the wine. My date and I did make friends and heard about the taste of the Abingtons, so more to come on that in late Sep.

Trattoria Bella - Montage Mountain

The quality team came by last week and graciously offered to take us to dinner at Trattoria Bella just down the street from the office. Having been to Italy, I am a bit of a snob when it comes to Italian food. If anything, Italian should be simple. The fewer and fresher the ingredients the better. Olive Garden is the bane and opposite of what I am describing. Bella had the standard array of both appetizers and entrees, with enough choices that made it hard for me to make up my mind. The night started with a round of appetizers.

Our side of the table ordered stuffed mushrooms, which were filled with crab meat and topped with cheese before being put under a salamander. They were slightly oily, but the cheese and seafood did not clash. Of course we had calamari, and of course it was deep fried. The rings were well coated but not greasy, but the rings themselves were not plump, so all you really tasted was the fried batter. My order was melon wrapped in prosciutto, a favorite of mine. The prosciutto was thicker than usual and had more meatyness to it than I am used to. The melon was honey, but was crunchy, hard, and not yet ripe. The entire dish was drizzled with a balsamic glaze, adding a sweetness to the finish. Finally there was the bruchetta. The bread was well toasted, and the tomato compote was heavily with garlic and onions. Again, the whole dish was drizzled with balsamic glaze, but the bread quickly became soggy as the tomato compote was saucy.

I ordered the special of the evening for my entrée. The shrimp and scallops came with sautéed zucchini, squash, and carrots and a tomato infused rice on the side. For how much I’m sure it cost, I did not receive much seafood. The scallops were slightly gritty, and tasted a little, well, old. The shrimp was tender and soft. Neither of them was heavy in butter or oil. The lasagna was ordered by the person to my left, and was a huge portion. It smelled savory and heavy with pomodoro sauce, the cheese completely melted in between each layer. Rice and pasta dishes were served to others, all of which were large in quantity and looked inundated with cream, butter, and cheese in their sauces. I was tempted by one of the house specials, veal with scallops, but that was ordered by another and regretfully, I was unable to taste it.

Overall, the ambiance and convenience of Bella was nice, especially if you were going to watch a Scranton Wilkes-Barre Yankees game over a nice dinner. The food was good, but not fantastic, and as I am not yet paid to eat and write about it, something that is not worth it on my budget.

I should comment, as a post script, that the waitresses seemed peeved when we had 23 in our party instead of 28, and the service was certainly not quicker because of it. They were often questioning who ordered what, and some dishes took much longer to come out than others. It seemed like we were bothering them whenever we needed something. Good for them I was not in charge of the tip.

Akita Sushi – Clarks Summit

I will admit that more often than not, I get to sample to food of fine dining via food and wine events rather than at the restaurant itself. Last weekend, after being thoroughly liquored up at the diminutive wine and art show in Clarks Summit, my date and I walked to Akita Sushi.

As to be expected with every sushi restaurant in the area (except Katana), the chefs were not Japanese. This is not an indicator of quality. The lunch special allowed for two rolls of my choosing with soup or salad. The ginger that came with the sushi was crisp, the wasabi pungent and powerful.

I chose the Tokyo roll and the Atlanta roll. The Tokyo came with tuna and salmon together, with a bit of masago (flying fish roe) on the outside. The fish was fresh and did not smell fishy nor taste slimy. The flavors were clean and genuine. The Atlanta roll was avocado, cucumber, and yellowtail. I know that it was poor form, but I actually ate part of insides out before consuming in one bite, I wanted to savor it longer (and sober up before I had to head out)

The entire lunch combo was only a little over $10, and for sit-down sushi, that’s pretty good. Nothing out of this world, but a nice stop.

Face Full of Pig

Last Saturday was beautiful. I drove from Scranton up 81 to Cortland New York, a quaint town and a beautiful drive. My destination was a roadside bbq restaurant called Smokin’ Joes. I was here to participate in their first annual Pulled Pork Eating Contest.

Contestants paid $25 up front to participate. The kitchen closed as friends and family gather around two tables set up in the middle of the dining room. Trays of pulled pork sandwiches, 11 on each were set down in front of the 15 competitors. All men, the $500 first place prize was a great incentive to stuff our faces. Even if we failed, we could take home the leftovers, so it was a great deal one way or the other. The rules were simple, 10 minutes, as much as you can eat, drink anything you want (non-alcoholic), and you can’t vomit for 15 minutes after the competition ended. Eat!

I sat at the end of the table. Another gentleman who humbly said that he had participated in a “couple bbq eating competitions” was clearly the ringer, as he had traveled four hours to compete. Aside from him and myself, everyone else was a local, just here to have a good time. Some competitors knew from the beginning that they had no chance of winning, but stepped up to the plate just for the fun of it. The sandwiches were simply pulled pork with bbq sauce on a bun not dissimilar from a happy meal. The meat had a wonderful smoky flavor, black, crunchy bark (which I usually adore, but the dry and flavorful ends were slower eating), and was soft and tender.

I immediately went for the meat, skipping the buns for later. Intermingling water and pork, I wolfed down sandwich after sandwich, carefully keeping my eye on the ringer to my left, and a local champ to my right. The local had friends cheering him on, while I had only my grit to continue. As the meat went down, it was difficult to tell who was leading, I had 11 buns to consume, and my opponents had about 2.5 sandwiches, this was dangerous.

With three water cups in front of me, I poured the water over the buns, and dunked them in between shoving them down my gullet. I was catching up, everything was looking good, ten minutes creeping up on all of us. Then, disaster struck. A balloon of air was stuck in my ribs, making another bite seem vomitous. I stood, shook, pounded my chest, try to free the air, unable to continue eating until it was freed. The crowd called for a bucket, thinking I would make a mess of myself, but all they got was a loud belch, and I threw myself back into the fray.

However, with the 15 seconds of pause, the New Yorker to my left was able to call for a second tray, and as the final seconds ticked down, he was able to chipmunk another half sandwich into his maw while I was left with a solemn empty (and wet) tray.

The $500 went to him, but I soon found out he was a former member of Major League Eating, a pro. My performance did not go unrewarded however, I left with a big tray of leftovers, a polo shirt, beer paraphernalia, and a 3.5 foot tall smoker. Though beaten, it was good to know I was bested by a professional, and only by a small degree. My eating adventure continues, with restaurants and challenges waiting to be bested.