At my office, there is one main topic of discussion today: the imminent re-launch of THE ROSENGARTEN REPORT, my chock-a-block, info-crammed, highly decorated newsletter that has been away in its full form since the worldly woes of 2007-2008.
But the times they are a-changin!
I have worked for years pulling together a new team, fresh capital, fresh ideas, and a fresh approach to the thousands of readers who adored what we did.
Today, I wanted to give you a taste of the in-depth reporting you’ll find in the first issue. One of the stories in the newsletter documents my ten greatest meals of 2014—and it is full of surprises! Below, I reproduce in full a preview of meal #6, which maybe wasn’t so surprising…but it sure was drop-dead supernal!
Come with me to the greatest roaster of suckling pig in Segovia, Spain, on a wild Saturday afternoon in Fall 2014…then, if you enjoy, please find out the other 9 feasts in this story alone (plus there are 7 other stories!) by subscribing to THE ROSENGARTEN REPORT! If you order today or tomorrow, we will give you two years for the price of one. That’s eight BIG issues (the first one is 42 pages!) taking you up to Sept. 15, 2016. Do it this week, and your cost for two years of both the digital version (filled with color photos) and the accompanying print version (easy to carry around) will be a total of $60!
Cue: start salivating now!
From the Dec. 15, 2014 ROSENGARTEN REPORT:
# 6: Jose Maria, Segovia, Spain, October 2014
On my short list of last-meal-on-earth contenders, unquestionably, is Restaurante José Maria in Segovia, Spain. Please somebody: should I be kicking the bucket anywhere near Madrid…get me to Segovia, fast!
Luckily…fast is easy! When I went to José Maria in mid-October, I was staying in Madrid…and the gorgeous town of Segovia (with its breathtaking cathedral, churches, towers and castles) is only 27 minutes away on the fast train! If you’re in Madrid, and even if you’re in the pink of health…there’s no reason not to get to Segovia!
The Cathedral right near José Maria in Segovia
Of course, it’s another kind of pink that will draw you there. This is cochinillo country—the heartland of Spain’s incredible suckling pig tradition. This region (like the region of Mealhada in Portugal) is loaded up with restaurants dedicated to roast suckling pig.
I have not been to them all. But José Maria, though it’s not the most famous one to tourists, is always tagged by insiders as the best. It would be hard to imagine something better than this incredible place…starting with the atmosphere….
It feels like an old Spanish tavern, brightened just enough for modernity’s sake. Your heart starts to soar the moment you enter (we’ll leave the arc of your cholesterol out of it for now). At the proper time of day (say, 3 PM for lunch) it is jammed with happy eaters, mostly families on the weekend, delighted to be near such a great version of their regional pride.
The crowd at José Maria in full gorge
And at the center of it all is José Maria Ruiz Benito, owner-chef, who is in the dining room much more than he’s in the kitchen. This is actually a good thing. For one thing, José Maria’s kitchen staff is making exactly the marvelous food he himself would be turning out at the last minute (he trained them well!). Secondly, he is an important part of the ritual here. People come to see him, to take photos of him.
Rock star José Maria posing with guests
My moment with the master!
And there’s ample opportunity. Every time a roast suckling pig comes out of the kitchen, it goes to one stand centrally located in the dining room.
The pig, newly arrived in dining room
Who cuts the pig, every pig? You got it. José Maria stands there proudly, with his white jacket and culinary society ribbons, taking plate to pork. In the local tradition…this porker is so tender that you don’t need a knife to cut it up. The dull edge of a plate will do—convenient, since the cutting plate then becomes the serving plate. José Maria has a certain rhythm and style to his plate theatrics: there’s nothing slow, or measured, or careful about it. Every cut is the same: WHOMP!, in about a third of a second. And the crowd salivates anew.
José Maria does the plate thing
And the pig? Words fail. The skin is ridiculously crisp…but light and crisp, not heavy-crisp. Heavy-crisp is easier. But this skin is like a large, golden flake on top of the porcine treasure nestled beneath. The meat seems the result of a wet treatment, rather than a dry-oven treatment. It’s roast-y in flavor, yes…but it’s so moist, and tender, and slippy-slidey.
Here, you can see the juice and layers
A special curved knife to scoop the meat off the bone
And the pork flavor dimension! Holy pagan! There are moments when pork tastes brutal, animal, exotic, ancient. Moments when you could imagine a strictly kosher Jew gagging. This, I’m happy to say, is one of those moments! No offense, kosher Jews!
Because of José Maria’s chops (culinary, not pork) the menu is filled with other good things to eat. You could think of José Maria in Segovia as a kind of Bocuse-in-Lyon equivalent; Monsieur Paul would never want his restaurant to rest on the laurels of one dish. So appetizers here in Segovia (like great jamon, porcini, salads) have high quality to them, and sometimes a certain big-deal restaurant look. Same for fabulous sides. All fine by me.
Wonderful fried vegetables before the pig
Amazing beans and sausages out of an olla
Beautiful Spanish vegetables on the side
Gorgeous local boletus
And drinking is another pleasure! You can drink deep into José Maria’s fabulous collection of red wines from all over Spain, some of them ancient. But if for such a festive occasion you value lots of good wine over a little great wine—there’s a selection of José Maria’s own wine, from an estate in Ribera del Duero. This is his pet project, and that reality does nothing but raise the joy factor in house! (Our New World-ish but yummy bottle cost only 18 euros…and it was delish with the fatty pork).
José Maria’s grape juice
At 4:30 PM, there’s nothing left to do in life except stumble through the massive crowd in the bar (all waiting for lunch tables)…
The table-awaiters at 4:30 on a Saturday afternoon
…en route to a taxi that will take you to the train station. With proper planning, you can be snoozing in your Madrid bed an hour later, unable to distinguish this memory from a dream.
