Review: Cassis American Brasserie

Friday featured two new restaurant adventures, chosen to kick us out of our food rut. At lunch, we braved a torrential Florida downpour on a doomed food mission in Gulfport. A favorite beach dive closed several years ago, and I keep waiting for it to be replaced with something equally fantastic. No such luck. Its current incarnation as a faux-British pub is ripe for a visit from Gordon Ramsey.

Thankfully, dinner was an epic win. We ventured to Cassis American Brasserie, a newcomer to the upscale restaurant scene in downtown St. Pete. I've never been to Paris, but this place certainly felt like I imagine a bistro to feel--quite a bit larger perhaps, but pleasantly noisy and open. High ceilings, shiny white tiles, softly colored globes of light, and comfortable banquettes--and celebrity chef Emeril Lagasse, sitting just behind me, facing a massive tray from the raw bar. It all made for a thoroughly cosmopolitan, yet eminently comfortable, ambience. Dorian summed it up succinctly: "This place makes me want to move back to New York. NOW."

The food was more deftly prepared and presented than anything I've eaten before in the Tampa Bay area, save only for our first visit to Cafe Ponte in 2004. Dorian went for traditional bistro fare, selecting the onion soup gratinee and steak frites. Both were very good, if not outstanding. He said the steak was perfectly cooked, tender and very rare inside, and bathed in a rich demi glace. The frites were tasty but slightly limp, probably from being piled into a paper bag and left to sit for too long.



I was sorely tempted by the fried chicken with lobster mac and cheese, but I start training for a half marathon this week and couldn't justify the fat and calories. I went for much lighter choices--and was not sorry. A cool, refreshing cucumber-mint gazpacho arrived at my table, heaped with massive lumps of sweet, minimally seasoned blue crab meat. If Emeril hadn't been sitting so close, I might have licked the bowl.



My entree was beautiful and tasty--rainbow trout in brown butter, on a bed of roasted potatoes and crunchy haricot verts. There were a few plump shrimp on top, but they were completely extraneous. The sharp bite of capers in the butter surprised me, infusing every morsel of trout with briny joy. I've had a very similar dish recently, that took a richer route and added bacon, and that was perhaps more comforting; but those capers totally won me over.

I shouldn't have had dessert, but, you know...FRENCH food. A flaky (if slightly dry) pastry round, topped with tender, warm apple slices and swathed in caramel, is about as good as it gets. But the addition of homemade coriander ice cream, delicately spiced and melting, nearly put me into a happy food coma. I found it almost painful to choose a dessert, but I am so pleased with my choice.

We will definitely be back to Cassis for more. I want that fried chicken (though perhaps not until after my race in October), and I long to try the poached peaches with cassis sorbet and chantilly cream. I wouldn't mind making my way through the cocktail menu (my violet margarita was tart and very subtly perfumed). And they have brunch, too--I noticed an asparagus and goat cheese omelet. It wants to be inside my belly, and soon.

This is a great addition to the St. Pete food scene--and if it keeps attracting the chefs taping over at Home Shopping, it could soon become a foodie's paradise. My friend Jenn over at Jenn Likes It knows that Wolfgang Puck eats there frequently, and I'll bet word spreads around HSN quickly. Good luck to this fab eatery. We'll see you again.

First and last and always

If you know me, you know that I heart tacos. <insert Forrest Gump-esque monologue on the myriad ways to prepare tacos here> They're a go-to meal for my family, because boring meat + boring veg + random shit left in the fridge = un-boring tacos, but when I want to gussie it up a bit but not expend much time or effort, I reach for one of two Rick Bayless recipes. This is one of them, my first foray into Bayless-dom, memorially-reconstructed from a long-ago cookbook-aisle trolling expedition at Border's, originally from (I think) Mexican Kitchen, and carries the distinction of being One of Two Ways I Will Voluntarily Eat Steak. Bonus: the sauce freezes really well, so make extra.

--Broil 6 tomatillos, 4 garlic until black and squishy

--Puree w/ cumin, salt, 2-3 chipotles

--Grill steak; slice into strips

--Grill or saute 1 bell pepper, 1 onion

--Combine meat, veg in pan; add sauce, 3 min

--Add 1 C beef broth; reduce, 8-10 min

--Serve on grilled corn tortillas

--Top with cheese, avocado, crema, lime, cilantro

One of the major perks of this recipe is that the leftovers--should you, for some unimaginable reason, not invoke the Taco Rule (1)--are fricking amazing the next day, with scrambled eggs and refritos. 

One of the major drawbacks of this recipe is that I always forget how easy they are to make. Dorian loves them, but Dorian loves any meal that is Difficulty: 10 / Messiness: 10 / Frugality: 0 / Time Consumption: 1,000,000. Ipso facto, I generally ignore his food requests. These steak tacos, however, are easy, cheap, and quick enough that I can make them after work. They require a single pan (2), one knife, one cutting board, and one cheese grater--though if I crumbled some queso fresco instead, I could excise that last bit. PLUS, the leftovers.

Remind me to make this more often.

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(1) Michelle, my personal food-blogging hero and the genius behind Thursday Night Smackdown, is responsible for codifying and recording the Taco Rule. Many of you probably already observe the Taco Rule, but didn't know how to formally recognize this fact. Michelle has kindly taken care of that for you here.

(2) To be extra lazy and environmentally un-friendly, I broil the tomatillos in a little pan I make of aluminum foil instead of using a broiler pan, which I own but which requires washing. Also, I cut up all the toppings and place them on paper towels instead of in photogenic Williams-Sonoma glass nesting bowls, which I also own but which also require washing. (3)

(3) This is why you will never, NEVER see a photograph of my mise en place. Should I ever post such a photo, you may be assured that it is A Lie, Contrived For The Benefit Of Dorian's Camera.