
Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now!
We should all celebrate with the joy expressed in this lyric from the new Broadway smash, Hamilton. But unlike the 18th-century residents of New York City, we now have access to peak experiences previously restricted to the lifestyles of the rich and famous decades ago.
Thanks to modern technology, we can listen to our music of choice almost without limitations, reaching back in history to feel the thrill of Woodstock, the pulse-quickening sweep of a Beethoven symphony or the thrilling cast of a Broadway show that closed before we were born.
Netflix allows us to see the world’s greatest actors in the comfort of our own homes. Images of resplendent art from any and all cultures are at our fingertips on the web. Great works of literature and philosophy are now digital, and we may carry whole libraries in the palm of our hand. So while there’s no substitute for live experiences, ordinary folks in 2015 may obtain riches once limited to a select few.
And then there’s food.
Unfortunately, despite the proliferation of master chefs across our media, dining at the highest levels still remains, for many, an unexplored frontier. If you’re willing to jump in and play kitchen pioneer, though, these barriers, too, could fall.
I first learned to cook as a graduate student with young children when I didn’t have two nickels to rub together. But I wondered about food at the acme of gastronomy. It was then that I discovered Julia Child and began a lifelong journey and obsession. Just because I lack the means, surely there’s some way for me to transcend my budget and create the same tastes being served to moguls, rock stars and royalty.
I found the cuisine of Patrick O’Connell’s Inn at Little Washington in Bon Appetit magazine. Crab and spinach timbales in Champagne beurre blanc changed my life. These require attention to detail, but are not beyond the skill level of most home cooks. They’re so transporting that I always feature them when I’m entertaining — I don’t know of anything better.
O’Connell has two cookbooks, The Inn at Little Washington Cookbook: A Consuming Passion (1996) and Patrick O’Connell’s Refined American Cuisine: The Inn at Little Washington (2004). They’re wonderful examples of imagination, using fresh, local ingredients and, in many cases, stepping stones for home cooks to capture the ephemeral magic of culinary temples.
His sweet red bell pepper soup with Sambuca cream is a favorite, and apple-rutabaga soup, which tastes like liquid autumn, is now a must-do every Thanksgiving. I adapted the wonderful wild rice pecan pilaf as part of my turducken recipe and use it often as a side with grilled cedar plank salmon or pork tenderloin. It’s as tasty, versatile and straightforward as a side can get. These dishes can be the springboard for you to encounter gastronomic glory.
My first chance to dine at the Inn was a birthday surprise one winter. I was overwhelmed by the beauty, grandeur and opulence of British designer Joyce Conwy Evans’ fantastical English country interiors. Her attention to detail is breathtaking. As we sat in the terrace with its tented backlit ceiling looking out through French doors into the central courtyard’s snow-covered tables, I was brought up short. The entire garden space glowed with candlelight; it was magical and emblematic of O’Connell’s sense of theater that imbues every inch of what’s become a 20-plus-acre campus.And now O’Connell’s most recent book, The Inn at Little Washington: A Magnificent Obsession (2015), takes us on an incredible journey. It’s a sumptuous guide to one of America’s great country inns, “fueled by a passion for food, fantasy, and the healing power of beauty.” This chronicle of how a country auto garage was transformed into a creative jewel box is accompanied by stunning photographs by Gordon Beall and Derry Moore.
There are wonderful sketches, including wallpaper and fabric swatches, and a narrative of the “exhilarating collaboration” between chef O’Connell and Evans. While there are a handful of recipes, this is a coffee table volume jam-packed with photos that capture “Joyce’s…rare capability of entering into a mysterious trance and channeling grandeur.” It’s great fun to study the sketch and turn the page to see a finished room. O’Connell opines that “ceilings are a hallmark of Joyce’s work and she always believes they must be given the same attention as every other surface — and sometimes more.”
One chapter takes you inside the magnificent kitchen, and in another, the guest house named for culinary giant Craig Claiborne. Others explore the sumptuous gardens, vegetable garden and charming old cottages that expand the guest accommodations to 24 rooms.
On my most recent visit to the Inn a few years back, Patrick wowed me with his carpaccio of herb-crusted baby lamb with Caesar salad ice cream. I thought to myself, I have to get the recipe for this. Luckily, it’s included in The James Beard Foundation’s Best of the Best: A 25th Anniversary Celebration of America’s Outstanding Chefs (2012). I made it, and you can, too.
O'Connell's new book is $34 on Amazon, but there are bargains out there on his older cookbooks. I urge you to take the Inn crowd leap to see why O’Connell feels “the dining experience can be a healing process that makes you feel life is worth living.”
This article appears in Dec 10-16, 2015.

