Chef Spike Gjerde
All of the chefs cooking at the Rogue Sessions will be incorporating local ingredients, but none are more focused on products from the DMV than Spike Gjerde of the highly acclaimed Woodberry Kitchen. For the past four years, the Baltimore eatery has been offering rootsy Americana-themed cuisine that highlights the finest foodstuffs from the Chesapeake watershed. If it’s not available locally, it’s probably not on the menu.
Since Gjerde likes to use a plethora of produce, he is the king of canning. When I spoke with him this past summer, he was hoping to preserve 5,000 pounds of tomatoes, so he could keep them on the menu through the winter. Well, now it’s winter – even if it doesn’t look like it – so I wondered which bright, bold flavors from chef’s larder up north would make their way on to my plate.
Note: To spare readers the repetition and my waistline the punishment, I will be concentrating solely on the visiting chefs’ dishes for the remaining Rogue Sessions.
***1st course
Snow Hill oyster/fish pepper/pickled ramps
Chef Gjerde comes over to our table to personally introduce the first course: a single Snow Hill oyster balance atop a ghost white hummock of salt. A light umber ramp “glass” encloses the bivalve with a sprinkle of fish pepper. Breaking through, I scoop the contents into a single spoonful of contrasting textures – the thin sheet of ramp crackles as it melts on my tongue, while the crustacean has a wonderfully custardy consistency.
2nd course
Yellow perch/roe/sunchoke/spelt toast
This delicate fish is presented by Gjerde as “another taste of the Chesapeake.” A slender strip of crispy skin center stripes this minute filet, which rests on a circlet of earthy toast in a frothy sunchoke puree. A glass of White Hall Vineyards’ 2010 Pinot Gris brought over by Giane Cavaliere has a honeyed citrus tone that highlights the dish’s subdued sweetness.
***3rd course
Hog jowl on the bone/pickled mustard seeds
Stop the chatter and get out your smartphones, because you’ll want to get a Hipstamatic shot of this. A stripped bare jawbone is decorated with two rolling ribbons of pink and white cured hog jowl and a tiny mound of pickled mustard seeds. Using a pair of giant pincers, we delicately pluck the pork pieces, which melt on the tongue. Skullinary perfection!
4th course
Brussels sprouts/malt vinegar/blue cheese/pretzels
Pretzel sticks at Rogue 24? What’s next, deconstructed Doritos? This delicate interlude stars late season Brussels sprouts decorated with crinkled bits of blue cheese and several salt-studded crispy snack sticks. A big berry burst of Chiarli Lambrusco complements the caramel tones in the green orbs on the plate.
5th course
Oyster root/Worcestershire/cabbage shoots
This oyster root looks nothing like the little log version that Bryan Voltaggio served two weeks earlier. The wild wonder comes cooked, pureed and shaved raw, then gets dotted with Worcestershire and sprigs of cabbage shoots. It all tastes vaguely of asparagus, which is not a bad thing at all. While we’re enjoying it, self-dubbed cheftender Bryan Tetorakis comes over with a cold apple toddy that steals the show with its Maison Rouge cognac encapsulation wrapped around a compressed apple cube.
6th course
Hock/smoke/broth/aromatics
We’re just over an hour into the proceedings when they begin the symphony of swine. The next three courses all come from a single Whitmore pig from Maryland, so Gjerde jokes that he’s going “whole hog.” A clear glass bowl holds a single hock island in a sea of winter vegetable broth. There are two spoons: a larger one for the soup and a smaller one to scoop out the creamy marrow. Interesting, but not a standout.
7th course
Trotter/pie/winter root vegetables
This flakey golden triangle of shepherd’s pie seems out of place alongside Rogue’s highly stylized plates, but the comforting New England-y flavors make up for its lack of fancy factor. My warm feelings of happiness could also be tied to the fact that we’re doing the full alcohol pairings, though we’re eating only half the menu.
***8th course
Stuffed ham/sweet potato/red eye
Kale-stuffed ham sits in a thin pool of sop-worthy red eye gravy. A single sweet potato – which my dining companion swears tastes like chocolate – sits alongside it. Black pepper powder leaves a tingle on the tongue that proves to be an excellent segue into the next course.
9th course
Marvesta pepperpot/gold rice/rockfish belly/okra/shrimp gravy
A single head-on Marvesta shrimp stares up at me from the bowl, dotted with a pair of tempura fried okra balls. It’s propped up with gumbo style that hides a little kick.
10th course
Pork chop/crowder peas/ranch/pickles
Despite the amended menu, we are almost at the two-hour mark. My friend is near full and I’m pleasantly sated with a little room for more. The battered pork chop arrives on a plate speckled with circles of homemade ranch dressing. “I don’t know what else to eat with fried pork,” the sous chef comments as he puts it in front of us. A pickled wax bean and a half moon of pickled cucumber on the side add acid in between bites.
***11th course
CMP shot/chocolate/marshmallow/peanut
This sweet shooter is topped off with a thin sheet of clear sugar that you have to crack through. The three-layer dessert comes together like a Snickers ice cream bar when you get the trio of flavors into a single bite. “Oh, wow,” I find myself saying before my commentary is reduced to a series of appreciative grunts.
12th course
Benne cake/apricot/blackberry/rice pudding/basil
Gjerde brought these apricot and blackberry compotes from Woodberry Kitchen, where he canned them this summer. They still retain that fresh spark, which matches up well with the sweet, herbaceous flavor of the tiny jewels of emerald basil sauce.
***13th course
Happy endings/little things/small bites
Pastry chef Bernadette Simonis has conceived a couple of new finales for her happy endings tray, including a miniature meringue mimicking a root beer float. The sassafras spiked sweet is capped with finely crumbled vanilla beans and salt. There’s only problem: it’s only one bite.
I write a reminder to myself in my notebook: Perhaps she could sell the meringues at my imaginary Rogue Market alongside Bryan Voltaggio’s bacon powder and Tim Byres’ coffee salt? I pause for a second, then add: Gjerde could have his own line of jarred fruits and pickles. That way Washingtonians could consistently enjoy Gjerde’s thoughtful cuisine without braving the gridlock on the parkway.
Reserve a seat at one of Spike Gjerde’s remaining Rogue Sessions.
To give live updates about my Rogue Sessions tastings, please follow me on Twitter @nevinmartell.
Read my play-by-play post on Tim Byres’ Rogue Session.
Read my play-by-play post on Bryan Voltaggio’s Rogue Session.
