Piperade

I have Gerald Hirigoyen's cook book titled The Basque Kitchen, so I am glad they published this article about him at The San Francisco Chronicle:

Piperade: Basque at its best

Chef Gerald Hirigoyen returns to his roots and cultivates another winner

Michael Bauer, Chronicle Restaurant Critic
Sunday, November 17, 2002

Agreat chef needs two qualities: talent is the most obvious, but passion is what gives him the edge. If a chef has both, he can transform gruel into a feast.

Gerald Hirigoyen proved himself at Fringale, but now he's rediscovered his passion for cooking by returning to his Basque roots. He made the change in cooking styles a few months ago, after he bought out his partner at Pastis and changed the restaurant's name to Piperade.

Hirigoyen is still a partner in Fringale, which he opened in 1991, but he's spending most of his time at Piperade, which he owns with his wife, Cameron.

It's taken a while to settle in, but on each of four visits the food improved, showing that the chef is finding his groove. Hirigoyen is reinterpreting his native culture for California tastes, much like Charles Phan is doing with Vietnamese food at Slanted Door and Mourad Lahlou is doing with Moroccan cuisine at Aziza.

Basque country, half in Spain and half in France, has a unique culture with an ancient language and a rustic style of cooking. Many traditional dishes are long simmered, infused with an intense earthiness. The satisfying piperade ($15), for example, is a stew of bell peppers, tomatoes and garlic served with thin slices of Serrano ham and topped with a poached egg. Other dishes that show the character of the cuisine include Hirigoyen's sauteed sweetbreads ($8) with thin caramelized slices of Jerusalem artichokes, and a clear garlic soup thickly clouded with bread and egg. Rock shrimp are stirred in at the last minute, adding a fresh note to the heady blend.

Pork daube ($17) is a chunky mountain of meat and potatoes, strewn with onions, salsify, parsnips and sunchokes, a soulful blend that's perfect at this time of year. It's not fancy, but like an everyday dish you'd enjoy in someone's home.

As the breast of chicken ($15) is crisply sauteed to order, tarragon jus with bacon, pearl onions and fingerling potatoes provide a gutsy element that's the antithesis of the quick-cook combinations produced by many California chefs.

One of the most interesting combinations features a saute of squid ($16) bathed in a foie gras sauce punctuated by grapes. Fingerling potatoes, cooked to a creamy sweetness, help soak up the sauce. It's so decadently rich you'll end up sopping it up with bread until the plate is clean. I wanted to do the same with the sauce that surrounded the whole prawns awash in garlic, parsley and zesty lemon.

The food here is driven more by technique than by ingredients. A good example is the warm terrine with at least a dozen alternating layers of sheep's milk cheese and ham ($9), sauteed to a warm crunch and set on a knob of frisee that adds mild relief from the salty intensity of the terrine. Kind of like a grilled cheese sandwich, it has a flavor that is much better than its separate parts. Another unique concoction is crab Txangurro ($8), flakes of crab bound with mayonnaise and fresh herbs in a phyllo-like pastry. The brick-shaped package is crisply sauteed in a little olive oil and served with a refreshing mango and red pepper salsa.

Even the lighter dishes have an intensity not often found in Bay Area restaurants. The delicate steamed Pacific snapper ($17) is drizzled with a vinaigrette dense with caramelized slices of garlic. A chilled mussel-and- bread salad ($8), glistening in a red wine dressing, is yet another rustic example of the chef's ability to coax the maximum punch out of ingredients.

Many people don't realize that Hirigoyen was a pastry chef until they try his desserts (all $6.50). They may not reflect his refined training, but they fit well with the heartfelt savory courses: a wedge of cake gritty with cornmeal and paired with a pool of creme fraiche and quince; a dense almond cake topped with crisp sugared almonds, set on the plate with honey ice cream; a gateau amatxi, centered on a thick, cool pool of creme fraiche to counteract the slightly bitter chocolate. There are also orange blossom beignets, airy fried doughnuts with just the hint of perfume; and one of the creamiest custards around, similar to a Spanish flan.

To reflect the homey quality of the food, Hirigoyen and his wife de- emphasized many of the sleek warehouse appointments of Pastis by putting in a hardwood floor and playing up the brick walls and ceiling beams. Panels of acoustic material between the beams keep the noise level in check. Stylish sconces hang from the beamed walls, and two impressive canvases of Basque images decorate the areas on both sides of the kitchen.

The focal point of the 85-seat dining room is a sheepherder's table set under a wrought-iron chandelier made from an antique bottle-drying rack. The large table can accommodate a party of eight or be used as communal seating for walk-ins. A small covered patio, which seats 16, is used year round.

The entire restaurant is infused with Hirigoyen's personality, from the staff at the front desk to the bus people. The chef and his wife make frequent forays into the dining room to greet guests, lending a warm, personal touch to the place. Service is a pleasant fusion of American casualness and French efficiency.

During his years cooking in San Francisco, Hirigoyen has developed a devoted following that continues to support him here. But Piperade should be attracting a new generation of diners. In this uncertain and often cold world, warm and nurturing places like this are just what we need.

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