How often have we heard that phrase. It was originally written in 1830 by Lord Baron Bulwar-Lytton for an extremely unremarkable novel with the exception of its opening paragraph. Subsequently, the phrase has taken on a life of its own as the quintessential rotten opening line of a work of fiction. Practically, a dark and stormy night is also a good reason to stay indoors, order pizza and watch what is streaming through the TV.

This blog is about two things, one social and the other literary. Part one: On crappy weekday nights, especially early on, the impulse is to hang at home and not venture out into that “not-so-good night”, and walk in the weather from a parking space and have some one else cook something that is not pizza or Sunday leftovers.

We all know that weekends at restaurants are always busy, sometimes too busy since many stores must cram a week’s worth of sales into two days. At Republic, we are fortunate to have fairly consistent weekday business, and of course it peaks on Friday and Saturday. I am usually (not always) off on Sunday, so on Monday I am a bit hyper. As a matter of course I order fish, produce and dairy from home, or where ever I may be on Sunday night, so on Monday I am starting with new product. The farmers and fishermen work 7 days a week until late fall, so Mondays bring wonderful ingredients.

On Monday, the Marble Bar picks up around 7:00 for the half-price drafts (beer and wine) and antipasti. Interesting folk, those who swim upstream, tend to favor weekday dining rather than dealing with the crowds on weekends, and populate the bar stools and high- top tables. They seem to be aware that pizza is delivered 7 days a week.

Of course there are work schedules, homework, and hard-to-coordinate dates with friends due to weekday priorities, but on occasion try to brave the weather or those early sunsets and come out. Tonight I served farm fresh omelets with fresh chanterelles, hand-made cream cheese and farm fresh eggs. I paired it with just-picked organic greens and a faro salad with walnuts and cranberries. It is being shared as I write this, looking down from our office perch, by two guests at the bar who are showing the plates to a woman who just sat down next to them. Who knows? Maybe a friendship has started!

Now to the second part of the blog, the literary. This started out with a DARK-AND-STORMY-NIGHT theme, and every year San Jose University has a contest for the worst opening paragraph of fiction using this infamous line. So here are two of mine that I submitted. After you have read them, and are wildly impressed at how I can lower my standards and write such drivel, attempt to write one of your own! Please bring it to the bar on a Monday or Tuesday when the weather is nasty and read it to Neal our Monday bar pilot as well as the person sitting next to you. If you get a thumbs up we will post it. Here are two of mine…

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT and watching the water stream from my windshield I said to myself, “I can’t let them continue, it must end tonight.” Arriving at my apartment, I threw off my khakis and buttoned-down white shirt, slipped into a red sequined off-the-shoulder gown, long white gloves and pinned on my curly blonde wig. “I’ll show them,” I said to myself, “I will not allow them to get away with this for another minute.” Through the wild storm I drove until I arrived at the parking garage under the main building in the secure complex. Swiping my card the doors swooshed open to the lobby. “Mr. Grain?” said the guard. “It’s Queen Sylvia Del la Hoya from now on and I’d find a safe place far from here if I were you.”

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT and the wind made the candle flame dance as she rolled over slowly onto her back. She glanced up with languid eyes and licked her lips as she ran her arm seductively around her head. Cats will so prostitute themselves for food.

I hope you were amused and don’t forget that on that stormy night the parking is free behind the building at the Wellington Trade Center Lot after 5pm and all day Saturday and Sunday.

See you soon

Ed

Claudia and I have just returned from eight days traveling through Munich and towns in Bavaria. From there we traveled to Pilsen and Prague in the Czech Republic and ended in Vienna. ( The hours spent in Frankfurt airport and the subsequent flight home do not count as vacation time.) We were so graciously invited to help celebrate a dear friend’s milestone birthday. My friend, Paul, is a bonafide beer connoisseur, I.T. professional, and borderline genius. As his entourage, we were to accompany him and his exceptional wife, Robin, on this pilgrimage to some of the most reverent shrines to the ” Barley Beverage”: Weihenstephan in Bavaria (the Vatican of beer), brewing in the same location since the 12th century; Pilsner Urquell, the inventer of the pilsner-lager style of beer; and many other lesser but significant creators of what Paul describes as ” life’s reward.” Claud and I were educated, enlightened, entertained and occasionally hung over, which we both considered a minor toll.

As a Mediterranean cook, the specialties of Bavaria and Bohemia are not easily adapted to REPUBLIC’S menu philosophy, albeit many wonderful and creative meals were enjoyed. And given the chanterelle harvest and farmers markets, Claudia’s vegetarian sensibilities were not compromised by the goulash, wienerschnitzel and uncountable varieties of “wurst” ( do they drink the water?-Ask about this when you next see me) that landed on the table.

I may not be able to incorporate recipes from our trip into our lexicon, but I was overwhelmed with the level of hospitality in all of the restaurants, hotels, tasting rooms, beer gardens and wine bars that we visited, as well as the European commitment to local and regional products in the cuisine. There is no centralized food distribution network like we have in the USA. In the cities we visited there is no Sysco, US foods, or other brand names that clog the alleys and double park in the streets. Local vendors for cheese, produce, meat, bread, beer and wine are being used and listed on the menus, and their products proudly poured in the bars.

The use of local products in a majority of European cites is not a business practice per se as much as it is a cultural imperative. Don’t get me wrong, I do not think that European countries are the perfect role models, but as a chef and “eater” we can learn something for sure, especially in their commitment to local, sustainable and historical cuisine.
It is easy to be hospitable when you are proud of your products and region, and excited that guests travel to experience your specialties.

At REPUBLIC we aspire to this model and try to emulate those restaurants that have been sourcing local for more years than I can count. We will always default to individual producers and attempt to define NH as a culinary destination based on its local bounty.

On your next visit to REPUBLIC, come to the Marble Bar and toast with a cool glass of Pilsner Urquell. Close your eyes, take a sip and imagine being on the Charles Bridge in Prague just after sunset. The castle is illuminated like Disneyland, and wonderful aromas of grilling meats are wafting up from the restaurants below on Kampa Island. The music of Dvorak fills the air and you will smile. When you open your eyes again you may not be in Prague, but you will be among friends who are glad to see you and you can always pay with your air miles card. Who knows, its only 6 1/2 hours away.

See you soon

Ed