92 MAIN STREET
DOBBS FERRY, NY 10522
(914) 693-2306
OWNER/EXECUTIVE CHEF: CHRIS VERGARA;
OWNER/GENERAL MANAGER: JUSTIN MONTGOMERY;
BEVERAGE DIRECTOR: CLARK MOORE
One of the things that happens in any tightly knit restaurant community is that, inevitably, chefs start to take cues from each other. In the hotbed dining scene of Westchester’s River Towns—Hastings-on-Hudson, Dobbs Ferry, Irvington, and Tarrytown—it’s no different. Says Chef Chris Vergara about his inspiration for Harper’s in Dobbs Ferry, “A lot of Harper’s had to do with conversations that I was having with Chef David DiBari of The Cookery.” The penny dropped for Vergara, who’d been cooking at Meritage (a Scarsdale restaurant that he has co-owned with Jamie Steinthal since 2004), when he saw what was happening in the kitchen of The Cookery. “David was, and still is, doing beautiful food that was exciting and different. The fact that he had such a success with this at The Cookery told us that there was a clientele in the River Towns that was ready for what we wanted to do.”
The difference between glitzy, moneyed Scarsdale and the bohemian River Towns couldn’t be more profound. According to Vergara, Dobbs Ferry “is one of the more artistic communities in Westchester. They’re just more adventurous.” In the Dobbs Ferry kitchen of Harper’s, Vergara was finally able to practice nose-to-tail cooking. “We buy whole animals and, when you do that, there are always cuts that are difficult to sell. But, in the River Towns it seems like it’s more difficult to sell the loin than it is to sell the neck. When it comes to total product utilization, it’s a lot easier to sell an off-cut here.”
Though it demands much more from a kitchen to break down whole carcasses, Vergara is adamant about buying whole animals. “It’s both a quality thing and a control thing at the same time. I mean, I know where the lamb was raised, I know what it ate. I know who raised it, and I know when it was slaughtered. Plus, I have complete control over custom cuts. I can cut my steaks however I want; I can cut my loins and racks however I want. I could bone out the neck or leave it whole. That, and we have the option of hanging it, which you don’t get when you buy precut Cryovac-ed meat products.”
It wasn’t always easy for Vergara, who relates the story of trying to break down his first whole pig. “I lucked out because, when I bought the business at Meritage [when he was twenty-five], it came with a band saw. But when I bought my first pig, I had no idea what I was doing. I’d never taken apart a whole animal. So I’m standing in the basement kitchen and I’m basically hacking this thing to pieces, and the guy who was mopping the floor at the time, his family owned a carniceria in Mexico. He was my dishwasher. After fifteen minutes of watching me fumble around with this pig, he took the knife away from me and showed me how to do it. And he got a raise after that: He put down the mop and picked up a boning knife.”
But the challenges of storage, labor, and time all argue against buying whole animals, which is why, as we speak, those Cryovac-ed blister packs are being popped in kitchens all over the world. Vergara will never go that route. “Because the difference in quality is that drastic, I’ll take the Pepsi Challenge with the lamb that we’re using against any lamb in the country from any farmer. It’s amazing. It eats like veal, and that gamy flavor that you usually associate with lamb is more subtle and nuanced in our lamb. It’s like nothing else. It’s the same thing with our pork; it tastes like pork, you know what I mean? Instead of chicken or whatever the hell you get from those god-awful factory farms.”
In the recipe following, Vergara features one of the lesser known (and appreciated) cuts. “I love that you’re taking the breast, which is impossible to buy anywhere, and turning it into this delicious thing. That has a lot of appeal on a lot of levels. The lamb breast—or the shoulder for that matter—isn’t something that you just throw into a pan, flip, and it’s done. It takes a little bit of time, and there’s a transformation that happens when the connective tissue breaks down. It yields this thing that is, in my opinion, better than any loin that you can get.”
(SERVES 6)
For the lamb marinade:
1 cup parsley, stems removed
¼ cup thyme leaves
1 tablespoon rosemary leaves
2 cloves garlic
4 salted anchovy fillets, rinsed
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon freshly cracked black pepper
For the lamb:
5 pounds bone-in lamb breast, membrane removed
Salt
1–2 cups dry white wine
For the lemon vinaigrette:
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Zest and juice of 1 lemon (about 3 tablespoons)
1 teaspoon minced garlic
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper
For the warm vegetable salad:
3 medium-size fennel bulbs, cut in sixths with the core intact
2 medium-size red onions, peeled and sliced in ½-inch rounds
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
1 pound fingerling potatoes, cooked until just tender and halved lengthwise
2 tablespoons dill
2 tablespoons mint
2 tablespoons parsley
Lemon vinaigrette
For the minted yogurt:
12 ounces Old Chatham Sheepherding Co. plain sheep’s milk yogurt
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon ground toasted cumin seed
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
1 tablespoon mint, cut into a chiffonade
Salt and black pepper to taste
To prepare the marinade: In the bowl of a food processor (or in a mortar and pestle), place all ingredients and process until well combined but still chunky.
To cook the lamb: Preheat oven to 275°F. Lightly season the lamb breast with salt. Thoroughly rub the marinade into the meat on all sides. Select a roasting pan that fits the entire lamb snugly and place the lamb in, meat side up. Pour white wine into the pan and cover the pan with aluminum foil. Roast until tender, 3–5 hours, checking every hour or so to make sure that the pan isn’t dry. (If it is, add water.) When it’s fully cooked, the rib bones should pull easily away from the meat.
When done, allow the lamb to cool to room temperature. Place a roasting pan of equal size directly on top of the lamb and load with 2–3 pounds of weight. Move the lamb to the refrigerator and press for 4–6 hours, but preferably overnight. This will squeeze out the extra fat and give the lamb uniform thickness. When cool, slice into equal-size portions. Set aside.
To make the lemon vinaigrette: In a small bowl whisk together the mustard, lemon, and garlic. While continuing to whisk, add the olive oil in a thin, steady stream and whisk until the vinaigrette is emulsified. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
To prepare the salad: In a small mixing bowl, combine the fennel and red onions. Toss with olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Grill over medium-high heat, turning occasionally, until the vegetables are tender but not mushy. In the same bowl repeat with the fingerlings and grill until they are well marked. Toss potatoes with the fennel and red onions (reserving the dill, mint, parsley, and lemon vinaigrette for plating). Set aside.
To make the minted yogurt: Whisk all ingredients together, then taste and adjust seasoning. Reserve.
To assemble the plates: In a medium pan over medium heat, warm the fennel, onion, and potato mixture over low heat. Toss in reserved dill, mint, and parsley and dress to taste with lemon vinaigrette. Over medium heat in a charcoal or wood-burning grill, grill the lamb portions until they are nicely charred and lamb is warmed through. Arrange the vegetable salad on a platter and top with lamb. Serve the yogurt on the side.
CLARK MOORE
Barman, Myth
I’d heard rumblings about the mythic Clark for more than a year before I met him. At the River Roadhouse, Thalia Rayow, perennial bartender to off-shift restaurant workers, claimed that Clark was the best bartender working in Westchester. Chef David DiBari of The Cookery and The Parlor admitted to me once, over many whiskeys (looking somewhat pained), that this mythic Clark was absolutely the Real Deal; sadly, he wasn’t under his employ.
Like Billy the Kid, Clark Moore was a hard man to track down. At that point, Moore was pulling the occasional shift over at the “Roadie” when he wasn’t slinging drinks at the Tapp in Tarrytown or grading papers. A naturally occurring River Towns eccentric, the thin and bearded Moore teaches writing at Westchester Community College, where he manages to sneak his beloved Beat writers into his Beginning English Composition curriculum; he corrects his class’s papers while sitting at the bar. Happily, Moore finally found a permanent home as Harper’s beverage director, where you can find him slinging artfully composed drinks whose names bear the occasional William Burroughs allusion.
Says Harper’s chef/owner, Chris Vergara, “The idea behind the cocktail program at Harper’s was—in a cheeky way—to under-promise and over-deliver. So you walk into a place that doesn’t have tablecloths and there’s no pretense of a fancy restaurant, but then you sit down at the bar and meet Clark, and he’s making amazingly well-thought-out, farmers’ market cocktails. All of a sudden you’re sitting on those crappy stools at the concrete bar thinking, ‘Where the hell am I? This is really good!’”
(SERVES 1)
6–8 mint leaves
2 bar spoons blanched spring peas
1 very light pinch of salt
1 light pinch of black pepper
¾ ounce mint syrup
¾ ounce fresh lime juice
2 ounces Square One organic cucumber vodka
¼ ounce yellow Chartreuse
1 light splash of club soda
Place the mint, peas, salt, pepper, syrup, and juice in a mixing glass and muddle. Add vodka and Chartreuse and lightly shake with ice. Strain into a round Old Fashioned glass filled with crushed ice. Splash with soda and garnish with mint leaves and flowers.