In fall, 2019, I set out for the West Village in a monsoon. It was the last night of a small, culturally significant exhibit that I wanted to catch. At the designated address, I walked into a darkened courtyard, seemingly the patio of a shuttered restaurant on the far side of the enclosure, certainly not a gallery. More perplexingly, the doors to the eatery were locked. I looked at the address again, walked back out to the street, hunted for the building number, scratched my head, and plunged into the shadowy patio again. Where the heck was this elusive exhibit? Aha! I spied a doorway, kitty-corner, and when I opened the door, I figuratively tumbled through the looking glass, into the gallery!

Well, expect the reverse prelude to your dining experience at Frevo, (a Portuguese word meaning to boil, simmer, seethe), and, indeed, this boite percolates with appetizing, mouthwatering offerings. You’ll hit the proverbial jackpot if you can score a reservation here (the restaurant serves dinner only, see below), as The New York Times gave it two stars, when it opened in spring, 2019. Be forewarned to expect an experience that is the polar opposite of my autumnal outing, when I went from a barely lit restaurant into an art gallery.

At 48 West 8th Street, you’ll commence your evening in a jewel box of an art gallery. Barely six paintings hang on the white plaster and red-brick walls. The brightly lit space is no larger than 14′ x 18′. This is a restaurant? Here, a gracious young woman will greet you when you query, “I was looking for Frevo. I’m not sure I’m in the right place.” “Yes,” she’ll retort. “You’re here!” But, you’ll wonder, just where is the restaurant? Well, voila! An outsize canvas, hinged to the wall, swings away, and there you are, in the entryway of Frevo. Glide through the doorway and into the atmospherically lit, intimate dining room, and experience the transformation.

Frevo is an unusual restaurant, in that it seats a mere (but, certainly fortunate) 18 diners at a long, bar-style counter; there is a chef’s table in the corner, accommodating up to six. (COVID restrictions are enforced, so, at present only 10 may dine at the counter.) I was wondering just how could someone truly relax sitting on a bar stool long enough to appreciate a multi-course, haute cuisine meal? However, rest assured, the charcoal-gray, upholstered stools have seat backs, and are extremely comfortable. During non-COVID times, Frevo has two seatings, each with a slightly flexible window for arrival; with the dining times staggered, there is no orchestrated banquet-style service, where everyone is presented each course in an assembly line, as they would be at a banquet for 500 at a wedding, say. (During this COVID-altered time warp, the restaurant has changed its policies, to include one seating weekdays, and two seatings, weekends; see the info below.)

Seated at the bar, you face the work counter where the kitchen staff of four (sous chef, pastry chef, and two line cooks) in long white aprons are busy getting toothsome meals prepared and plated. They do this seamlessly, quietly, like ninjas. I swear, I never even saw an open flame, and I’d testify in court that there isn’t one! There is, indeed, a tiny kitchen in the back netherworld of the restaurant, but it is used, at least during meal service, for dishwashing, and earlier in the day, for prep. All the action, intriguingly, takes place right in front of you, yet you do not see it happening. A black-cloaked busman removes plates and restores flatware magically. (And, a propos flatware, the gorgeous dinner knives are distinctively unique, and each is perched on a cross-section of polished bone, so that the utensil stands at attention.) Two maître d’s do the more serious menu consulting with diners, in case you don’t or can’t eat one of the courses. (There are always substitutions for particular courses for those who have dietary restrictions—as in, “I can’t eat oysters,” or some such—although during this altered time, Frevo cannot accommodate a vegan, vegetarian, or lactose-free diet for its multi-course meal.)

Inspired by classic French cuisine, Frevo’s co-owner and chef, Brazilian-born Franco Sampogna, has crafted a menu that changes seasonally. Simplicity is the keynote, but that refined menu is exquisitely nuanced, with surprising flavors. For example, the night I dined in the spring (just before lockdown), the second course was seasonal (and prized) white asparagus, with sorrel and blood orange. At another time, that course was a cup of remarkably tasty and creamy hummus, accented with crispy quinoa and chives. Our first course was hamachi, with coconut and sea urchin, topped with golden kaluga caviar; I passed on the raw hamachi (but my dining companion raved), while I was offered one of the most mouthwatering dishes I’ve ever savored—a thick  artichoke soup, smothered in black truffles, punctuated with foamy, ethereal truffle juice and bread crumbs. I can still taste it and am still dreaming about it. I did not have to dream long—as I returned for the take-out Christmas menu and ordered extra soup!

After culinary school, Sampogna further advanced his education, working under Michelin-starred chefs Fabrice Vulin (at a Chèvre d’Or in the South of France); Guy Savoy (at the Rue Troyon in Paris); and Alain Ducasse (at the Hotel Plaza Athénée, also in Paris). His extensive in-kitchen training is apparent in the artful amalgam of flavors he has melded into each course.

I could not believe how tasty the celery root tagliatelle pasta course was, and, as it was accented with black truffles, it was all the more satiating. That was followed by a delectable scallop dish, with crispy salsify, resting on an airy cloud of roasted salsify. When the main course arrived, chicken Albufera (named for the Duke of Albufera), it looked like a chocolate brownie, smothered in hot fudge sauce, bisected with thin, striated lines of vanilla crème. Of course, it was not; it was a lovely three-inch square of poached, tender chicken, in a blackened (with squid ink), cognac-infused cream sauce. It was simply heavenly. Celestial is also an adjective suitable for the luscious dessert — dulce de leche gelato, hazelnut foam, with caramel and a sugary tuile.

A cheese course, 36-month-aged comté de garde from French cheese monger Fromagerie Antony, was served with a giant, crispy, house-made, tuile-like bread-cracker, the perfect accompaniment to the paper-thin, nutty cheese.

And, oh, yes, if you are interested, the paintings in the foyer-entryway are for sale. They have been created by the French artist Toma-L., whose work Chef Sampogna discovered in Paris. When Sampogna and his partner, restaurant manager, Portuguese-born Bernardo Silva, were planning Frevo, they invited the painter to the city to create art for the restaurant and gallery (which, parenthetically, was previously a panini restaurant). The idea was to create artwork that reflected the constant state of vibrancy and exhilaration that Gotham engenders, and that would suggest the simmering or bubbling spirit of the restaurant.

If you opt to buy the painting that is Frevo’s front door, then Toma-L. will simply have to create a new doorway for Alice and her anointed guests who are lucky enough to snag some of the precious seats at Frevo.

The Details:

Frevo Restaurant, 48 West 8th Street, New York City, NY  10011; 646-455-0804

Open for dinner only: Tuesday through Thursday, at 7 pm; Friday and Saturday, two dinner seatings, 5:30 and 8:30 pm.

Reservations, a must. The tariff for dinner is $138 per person; an additional $88 for the basic wine-pairing; $220 for the premium wine-pairing.  There are a few other supplemental fees for extras, if desired, such as additional caviar.  (Frevo, however, is a non-tipping restaurant.)

View the current menu

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So yes, food plays an important role in the lifestyle of Italians.  Very important. Portions often approach gargantuan in size.  And growing, harvesting, cooking and eating hold a place of near reverence in their daily lives.

Of countless repasts I have enjoyed at home and abroad, several stand out because of what they demonstrate about the locale and the people who live there.  They range from gourmet spreads set out in a romantic setting to everyday street fare consumed by local inhabitants.   All linger in my memories, if no longer on my taste buds, because of what they taught me about the  lifestyles of those who prepare and share local favorites.

Of the many meals I experienced in Sicily, from lavish lunches to picnics among Phoenician ruins to restaurant cooking classes, one that stands out was billed as A Day in the Life of a Sicilian Family. Because family is the only thing that equals food in importance in Italy.

The up-front instructions from Alessio were clear: relax, cook, set the table, sing, dance, and be open to being part of the family despite the language barrier. A tall order, despite Alessio’s efforts to teach us Italian – though admittedly his emphasis on hand gestures – which cover a multitude of sins – weren’t that re-assuring. But considering the emphasis on food by Sicilians throughout the trip, a visit to a farm where they grow and make their own seemed appropriate. We were introduced to the family and their captivating history going back generations – both of the farm and of themselves – before trying our hand at making bread and pasta from scratch.

Parents of both the owner, Jean, and his wife plus assorted aunts and cousins all took part in teaching us the finer techniques of kneading bread and rolling pasta, all of which we consumed with gusto. Part of what made the meal even more memorable was the connection with the extended family who helped us create it. One heart-warming story told by Jean’s mother about her first kiss with her husband below the property’s huge Mulberry tree at the age of 12, was one Jean sheepishly claimed he had never heard before. What a moment. It was that kind of day!

And from Sicilian farmhouse to island inn, a marked change in venue and recipes but no less memorable. I’m not accustomed to trussing up and skewering the night’s main course, a practice not for the faint-hearted, before it was spit-roasted on an open-air fire pit for eight hours. But so it is with the Wednesday night pig roast at the Hermitage Inn on the tiny Caribbean island of Nevis. A very large head-to-tail pig on a very large spit, to be exact.

Sitting in the Great Room awaiting its theatrical entrance, I couldn’t help but reconnect with the plantation owners and their guests of yore who feasted on roasted pig and its many local dishes over 300 years ago: Plantain and rabbit pie, Bar-B-Q chicken and curried chick peas, fish in cream sauce and tomato salad, with a special shout out to the Johnny Cakes, of course…

Such elegant fare was replaced by more traditional preparation as we prepared our own meal at the Village Restaurant in Thit Ael Pin, a tiny town inhabited by farmers and fishermen in Myanmar (also known as Burma). It’s home to the Danu people, one of 135 distinct ethnic groups that are officially recognized by that country’s government, each with its own customs, traditions and food preferences.

A chef presided over the activity, and we each had our own personal assistant who instructed, and helped, us to add the pre-prepared ingredients to the cooking pots.  The nine-course luncheon began with vegetables tempura prepared in the local style, went on to steamed fish wrapped in cabbage leaves and tea leaf salad, and titillated our taste buds with a desert of crispy fried banana with honey. The food was paired with glasses of Myanmar-produced red and white wine which we found to be surprisingly good.

As immersed in everyday appreciation of all things culinary as are the Italians, nowhere in the world is fine food approached with more reverence than in France. A barge trip along a shallow canal in the Burgundy area of France sponsored by French Country Waterways epitomizes that tradition. All the senses are satiated, but taste and smell predominate, with wine and food the focus of the trip.

Sure, the tree-lined towpaths, medieval villages, stately chateaux, and rolling fields where magnificent, pure white Charolais cattle graze were also appealing, but we’re talking about French food here. Fresh breads and buttery croissants are brought on board each morning, still warm from the village bakery. Both lunch and dinner, exquisitely prepared and presented from products from the local farmers’ markets hurried on board to maintain freshness, are accompanied by a select red and white wine. The de rigueur Plat de Fromage, a selection of three different cheeses, is served up with as much reverence as the wine.

Each bottle of wine is tenderly caressed as its characteristics are lovingly described prior to serving. The table is hushed as it learns of the wine’s vintage, heritage, blush, fruity nose, supple taste, sweet aroma, lightness, elegance, finesse, its children, hobbies, indiscretions – whatever.

Comparable homage is paid to the cheese. There’s always your basic cow’s, goat’s and blue varieties, farm fresh, 5 months old, 2 weeks old, square curd, penicillin rind, pasteurized, unpasteurized, mild and nutty, light and fresh, tangy and robust – this is a cheese we’re talking about! But once I returned home, I found it hard to look at a glass of wine or wedge of cheese without wanting to know its entire history.  The French take their wine and their cheese very seriously. No doubt, if the barge were to sink, the crew would save the wine and the cheese first. Fortunately, this is not a concern in four feet of water.

Back on land, in a world far away, a famous chef visiting from New York City toils in a Pennsylvania kitchen several days a week. The three meals a day are scrumptiously prepared, visually appealing, enormously filling and, oh yes, so delicious you hear murmurs of appreciation at every sitting. Not unusual for any fine restaurant. But when the calorie count for all three meals ranges between 1200-1600 calories, if you factor in the two snacks available on a daily basis, the meals – every one of them – takes on new significance. Welcome to the Deerfield Health Retreat and Spa in East Stroudsburg, PA, where you may come for the exercise – virtually round the clock options – but you stay for the food. And for the very comfortable homey atmosphere where both the guests and the staff members return year after year.

After galivanting and gourmet-dining around the world, we end with a tiny snack shack in the United States.   The Pine Tree Frosty has been serving light bites and ice cream in the tiny western Maine town of Rangeley since 1964.  We have a summer home there and are regulars at the modest establishment.

The setting alone – perched at the edge of a small lake which is the seasonal home for several dozen ducks and an occasional loon – is worth a visit.  But it’s what we rate as the best lobster rolls in Maine, where that tasty treat is a traditional favorite, which keeps us coming back – and back again.

For the uninitiated, the dish consists of a New England-style hot dog roll, which is split at the top instead of the side and has flat sides, filled with delectable lobster meat.   At the Frosty, the rolls are buttered and toasted, and overflowing with 5 ounces of claw and knuckle lobster meat (more than the standard 3-4 ounces) dressed very lightly with a touch of mayonnaise. After gorging ourselves around the world, such a simple repast is especially appetizing.

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A delight for those who enjoy the art of inspired chefs, Bordeaux’s setting is a journey through time to a grandiose site of restaurants, cafés, and classic French bistros. Tables, chair-to-chair, border the narrow streets in the historical center in a montage of activity as animated servers bustle about, not unlike ballet dancers on toe, deftly balancing clusters of wine glasses and sizzling plates.

The wide-ranging selection of produce sourced from local growers and a throng of covered markets, including Le Marche des Capucins and Bordeaux’s oldest market, Marche Capucins, dating to 1749, is an incredible showcase of Bordeaux goodness. Appetizing pastries along with the beloved Canneles and Macarons are displayed brilliantly in the windows of patisseries like delicate works of art. A local tradition is savoring the indisputably divine marriage of Bordeaux and chocolate anytime day or night.

Three hours from the land of the Basques and the Spanish border, the Bordeaux region is the prime producer of farmed French caviar, and home to some 300 oyster farms led by Joel Dupuch’s famed oyster bed. Bordeaux tables are blessed also by flourishing regional specialties like the traditional, richly flavorful Sauce Bordelaise, internationally copied and, depending on the chef, consisting of varying proportions of dry red Bordeaux wine, shallots, bone marrow, thyme, and bay leaf reduced into a demi-glace.

The city is jam-packed with an exceptional variety of dining venues with young innovative chefs presenting seasonally changing menus who echo one another as each explains, “We cook when you order because everything is fresh. So there is a bit more waiting time.” Regardless, the Bordelaise dining aficionados each have their own collection of favorite restaurants, as do the “Top Ten Best Lists” although with remarkably little duplication, but if a server or chef is flaunting a bad day indigestion rules, regardless of the venue.

Le Gabriel

Chef Romain Guyot, 26, is busy creating dinner menu requests for six tables on the restaurant’s second floor, while a Murano chandelier reflects dwindling strands of light as the lingering sun fades over Place de la Bourse and the Garonne River. Romantic, elegant and upscale, Guyot’s selections are presented with a round glass cover removed with great ceremony to reveal sea bass with a swirl of olive oil and lemon, regional oysters with seaweed from Japan, local asparagus, thick loaf country bread made in house, and tasty Langoustines sprinkled with a hot ginger sauce. Select from a varied list of 700 wines.

Le 7 Restaurant Panoranique

Tucked away on the seventh floor of Le Cite du Vin, a matchless Bordeaux landmark dedicated to the world of wine, Chef Djorde Ercevic prepares a Wild Catch of the Day from the Atlantic coastline with garden peas, ricotta cheese, and pine nuts tortellini in a marjoram foam.

A creamy fish soup pairs well with a Chateau Gueraud 2017 Sauterne. Music background, American; extensive wine list with 455 listings, Bordeaux accentuated.

Brasserie L’Orleans

Opened in 1942, near the Hotel Normandie, l’Orleans is a festive, high energy, feel good Bistro with a robust bordelaise clientele. A vivacious English speaking server works with a chalk board menu offering a prawn risotto with lemon grass, ginger and peppers, and a fresh Caesar Salad, nicely prepared, along with extensive French specialties. Tables out front under an awning are great for people-watching while a rickety poorly-lit stair leads to an Old World wine cellar where rare bottles of Petrus reside, tagged E2,000 plus.

Brasserie Le Noailles

Opening in the early 30’s, Le Noailles has the heart of a traditional French Bistro, with the appearance of a venue drawn from an early French film with mural frescos and classically garbed servers strutting an alluring sense of finesse. Regional oyster specialties, a selection of Caviar d’aquitaine, and wild Meager, a low-fat fish caught off the Atlantic Coast, moist and tender on the plate with a drizzle of champagne cream sauce are frontrunners. Found immediately off Place de la Comedie, the main city square, Le Noailles on 12 Allees Tourny is often missed by visitors but frequented by the Bordelaise. English menu available, dinner reservations advised.

L’Entrecote

A traditional Bordelaise moment can be spent observing the long lines of diners, French and visitor alike, crowding the entrance of L’Entrecote and stretching down the street and around the corner waiting for the doors to open at 7 p.m., first come, first served. The French chain restaurant has a fixed menu of salad with walnuts in a mustard vinaigrette sauce, French fries, and a steak in a butter sauce with dessert, E20. Service in the two-level room is generally prompt and efficient.

Le Saint Georges

A great lunch selection for those who need to practice their “Dining French,” the restaurant has outdoor covered tables on both sides of the street at Place Camille Julian. One server who speaks a little English will run through the chalk menu explaining the merits of a vegetarian salad with fresh carrots, tomato and cucumbers, raisins, and sliced cabbage on a bed of couscous. After lunch, nearby St.Catherine Street the longest pedestrian shopping street in Europe awaits.

Following the Bordeaux wine trails to the world of vineyards and historic wine producing towns, leads travelers to a handful of chateaus offering dining opportunities, reservations essential.

Chateau Dining

Chateau Kirwan, a family owned, 18^th century chateau in the Margaux appellation, booked by Viking Cruises, with century old vines and fine wines; Le Table d’Agassac at Chateau d’Agassac, a 13^th century castle, open lunch and dinner; La Table de Beychevelle at the 18^th century Chateau Beychevelle; Le Hameau at Chateau Marquis d’Alesme Becker open noon to 7 PM;  La Terrasse Rouge at Chateau La Dominique, open lunch and dinner.

A Change of Taste

The best Mojito in Bordeaux is found at Casa Latina, 59 Quai des Chartrons.

The chefs in historic Bordeaux and those working in the Chateaus are a foremost French feature.

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