Even though business travel has long ago lost its glamour, I can sometimes still find the silver lining in the cloud of drudgery of having to endure yet another series of long plane flights and generic hotel rooms. Or should I say the iron lining?
In the last year and a half, I have managed to squeeze in opportunities in between billable hours to check out La Rochelle in the Shibuya district of Tokyo, Rokusan-Tei in the Ginza district of Tokyo, Morimoto in Philadelphia (and recently New York), and Bar Americain and Babbo in New York City. Whose cuisine reigns supreme?
The seafood dishes at Hiroyuki Sakai’s La Rochelle were as good as I would have expected from an accomplished Japanese chef. Disappointingly, the meat and dessert courses did not live up to the initial promise of the opening courses. Although the menu, with smiling photographs of Chef Sakai and glaring shots of the food bore an uncomfortable resemblance to a Denny's menu, the wine list was quite impressive, including a wide selection of older Burgundies (I had a 1990 Vosne Romanee), as was the service, which was suitably formal yet friendly. The restaurant is sumptuously decorated, like a wealthy grandmother’s antique living room, which contrasted with the tourists in sweatshirts packing the dining room but the glittering panoramic city view was spectacular.
What about the invincible Rokusaburo Michiba’s Rokusan-Tei? Chef Michiba’s interpretation of Kaiseki-ryori (traditional Japanese seasonal tasting menu) alone is worth the plane trip to Tokyo, especially the unique sashimi offerings and the most amazing and tender duck individually cooked on a ceramic charcoal grill at the table. The desserts, however, may be somewhat sketchy for the American palate, e.g., mixture of fruit, rice dumplings, and sweetened gelatin cubes. Be warned that while the food at Rokusan-Tei is quite international, incorporating multicultural influences from Europe, the restaurant itself, including the staff, is very traditionally and exclusively Japanese, meaning that there is no English spoken or written anywhere and the bathrooms have squat toilets only.
Morimoto in Philadelphia was delicious although not quite as innovative as I would have expected based on what I had seen of Masaharu Morimoto on television. The tasting menu is similar in concept to Nobu in New York but significantly better executed, particularly the toro with caviar. Service, however, was a bit on the unpolished side, such as dumping off dishes with no explanation (In New York, service was substantially better, but the food was unspeakable).
What about Iron Chef America? I have not had a chance to try Mesa Grill or Bolo, both of which have garnered critical acclaim, but Bobby Flay’s Bar Americain was disappointing. The $100 seafood appetizer platter was mundane and heavy-handed in seasoning, and most of the raw shellfish items were quite a distance from fresh. The moules frites with green chile broth, however, was solid. The orange, retro-60’s décor is quite au courant, and the service was as smooth as you’d expect from a notable Manhattan eaterie. After this, I approached Babbo with cautious skepticism. Although Babbo lived up to its hype, I still think A16, Quince, or Delfina in San Francisco could give Babbo a run for its money.
One last note: None of the name chefs were in residence on the nights that I visited these restaurants. Nonetheless, I am still curious to check out Chen Kenichi’s restaurant in the Akasaka district of Tokyo and one of Bobby Flay's original ventures in New York.
Allez Cuisine!
Monday, July 31, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Winter Coming to Winterland
2101 Sutter Street
San Francisco, CA 94115
(415)563-5025
Chef Vernon Morales (previously Sous Chef Restaurant Daniel, Chef de Partie El Bulli)
Dinner Tuesday through Saturday until July 15, 2006
Last tried: July 2006
One of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco is closing at the end of this week. What did I like so much about Winterland? I loved Vernon Morales' daring and adventurous cuisine, which remained anchored in solid techniques and flavors without veering into the weird-for-weirdness sake world of molecular gastronomy. Even though not everything worked, I appreciated his continuing to push the envelope with things like poached egg in asparagus foam broth with bacon ice cream and octopus carpaccio with sweet-tart grapefruit segments (recently changed to mango) and salty sea beans. I am quite sad that notwithstanding his creativity, which I would have expected to flourish in a food-obsessed town like San Francisco, Winterland is closing at the end of this week.
Was it the ever-powerful influence of a less than stellar review from the San Francisco Chronicle? Except that the review, read in its entirety, is enough to pique the interest of any frequent restaurant diner, notwithstanding its two-star conclusion.
Was it the location? Four previous restaurants have failed in this location, but that was before the gentrification of the neighborhood, which is now firmly established as "Lower" Pacific Heights.
I have no idea. I am merely sad that something so promising is disappearing after only a year and a half, before the chef really had a chance to show his stuff.
I will miss the sweet intensity of the corn chowder with huitlacoche. I will miss the transparently thin ribbons of serrano ham, cleverly presented with grilled whole grain bread smothered with sweet diced tomatoes seasoned to bring out the delicate yet rich flavor of the ham. I will miss the meltingly tender braised short rib, topped with golden rings of crispy, hot tempura-fried onion, with a sweet-savory red wine reduction on a bed of chewy wheatberries that complement the meat better than any other side dish I could imagine. I will miss the creamy gruyere macaroni and cheese with a crust of buttery, crunchy breadcrumbs, accompanied by a pleasantly bitter fresh arugula salad wilted slightly by the zingy vinaigrette. I will miss the perfectly seasoned, moist inside/crisp outside duck confit drumstick decorated with a salty, glistening homemade potato chip. And I will miss the most amazing dessert I can recall ever tasting in any restaurant-- the caramelized "French Toast," a buttery brioche turned into a custardy bread pudding with heavy cream and sugar, topped with a creme-brulee like candied crust of hard sugar on top (but perhaps pastry chef Boris Portnoy may be persuaded to make this creation available at Campton Place).
The restaurant business is horrendously difficult (especially with pain-in-the-rear picky diners like yours truly around). I started this blog to get food writing practice, as part of my dream of ultimately transitioning to a non-legal career, but maybe blogs also make restaurant reviews more democratic?
San Francisco, CA 94115
(415)563-5025
Chef Vernon Morales (previously Sous Chef Restaurant Daniel, Chef de Partie El Bulli)
Dinner Tuesday through Saturday until July 15, 2006
Last tried: July 2006
One of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco is closing at the end of this week. What did I like so much about Winterland? I loved Vernon Morales' daring and adventurous cuisine, which remained anchored in solid techniques and flavors without veering into the weird-for-weirdness sake world of molecular gastronomy. Even though not everything worked, I appreciated his continuing to push the envelope with things like poached egg in asparagus foam broth with bacon ice cream and octopus carpaccio with sweet-tart grapefruit segments (recently changed to mango) and salty sea beans. I am quite sad that notwithstanding his creativity, which I would have expected to flourish in a food-obsessed town like San Francisco, Winterland is closing at the end of this week.
Was it the ever-powerful influence of a less than stellar review from the San Francisco Chronicle? Except that the review, read in its entirety, is enough to pique the interest of any frequent restaurant diner, notwithstanding its two-star conclusion.
Was it the location? Four previous restaurants have failed in this location, but that was before the gentrification of the neighborhood, which is now firmly established as "Lower" Pacific Heights.
I have no idea. I am merely sad that something so promising is disappearing after only a year and a half, before the chef really had a chance to show his stuff.
I will miss the sweet intensity of the corn chowder with huitlacoche. I will miss the transparently thin ribbons of serrano ham, cleverly presented with grilled whole grain bread smothered with sweet diced tomatoes seasoned to bring out the delicate yet rich flavor of the ham. I will miss the meltingly tender braised short rib, topped with golden rings of crispy, hot tempura-fried onion, with a sweet-savory red wine reduction on a bed of chewy wheatberries that complement the meat better than any other side dish I could imagine. I will miss the creamy gruyere macaroni and cheese with a crust of buttery, crunchy breadcrumbs, accompanied by a pleasantly bitter fresh arugula salad wilted slightly by the zingy vinaigrette. I will miss the perfectly seasoned, moist inside/crisp outside duck confit drumstick decorated with a salty, glistening homemade potato chip. And I will miss the most amazing dessert I can recall ever tasting in any restaurant-- the caramelized "French Toast," a buttery brioche turned into a custardy bread pudding with heavy cream and sugar, topped with a creme-brulee like candied crust of hard sugar on top (but perhaps pastry chef Boris Portnoy may be persuaded to make this creation available at Campton Place).
The restaurant business is horrendously difficult (especially with pain-in-the-rear picky diners like yours truly around). I started this blog to get food writing practice, as part of my dream of ultimately transitioning to a non-legal career, but maybe blogs also make restaurant reviews more democratic?
Monday, July 03, 2006
Terzo: Not as Expected
3011 Steiner Street
San Francisco, CA 94123
(415) 441-1496
Chef Mark Gordon
Dinner nightly
Last tried: January 2007
I had heard so much positive press about Terzo that I was quite happy to be able to get in, even with the hostess warning me that we had to vacate the table in an hour for the next reservation. The old Pane e Vino spot had gotten a complete facelift, with vanilla walls accented by dark chocolate colored wood, large mirrors, hanging lamps with yellow filament bulbs (I did like the giant single bulb chandelier over the six-top in the back of the restaurant), and of course the de rigeur communal table (am I the only person who dislikes this trend?). In short, it was appropriately stylish and chic, perfect for the yuppie cow hollow neighborhood.
I was instantly intrigued by both the menu and the wine list. About twenty small plates ($7-$12) and thirty different wines by the glass, from California, France, Spain, Portugal, and Italy ($8-$15), perfect for my noncomittal and short attention span tendencies. While sipping some 2004 Vinho Verde from Portugal and a glass of sparkling Huet Vouvray, we perused the menu and selected six plates ranging from soup to fish to meat.
The white corn chowder with creme fraiche arrived first. The smell was intoxicating but the taste did not correspond. Although the texture was pleasantly coarse and thick as one would expect from corn chowder, the corn flavor was very faint and the soup tasted diluted as though someone had accidentally dumped in too much water. This muted, diluted flavor seemed to be a constant theme in several dishes, including the wild king salmon. Although it had great, moist texture and was perfectly cooked with a translucent center, the salmon tasted like the kitchen had forgotten to season it before sending it out. The accompanying fennel salad was crunchy and fresh but again flavorless, with none of its characteristic licorice scent, and desperately needed more dressing.
Things improved with the next several dishes. The grilled asparagus with fried egg and romesco was both refreshing and hearty. The sweet fresh asparagus, enhanced by grilling, was accented beautifully with the fried egg and robust tomato/roasted bell pepper/onion/garlic mixture. The pepperoni and salami in the next dish, house cured meats with burrata cheese, were chewy, salty, and fantastic. Among the three meats presented, the pork rillette on grilled bread was my favorite, with moist salty fatty pork confit spread out on the charred bread. The small mound of burrata in the center, however, was disapppointingly bland and grainy in texture, instead of the creamy, poached-egg white texture I was expecting. (By the way, if you want bread, you must ask for it. When you do, you will get three or four slices of squishy white bread slices on a plate. You only get one slice of the delicious grilled bread with the charcuterie plate.) Next, the hand-cut noodles with butter and truffles were delicate and delicious, with the microthin slices of black truffles practically melting into the noodles and butter.
Unfortunately, the last dish, roasted Niman Ranch beef, again suffered from the persistent lack of seasoning problem. The beef was tough and chewy and remained underseasoned even after we added a liberal amount of salt and pepper (like the bread, you must also ask your server in order to get salt and pepper shakers). The accompanying two or three cipollini onions and two lonely wedges of potato, also lacking in seasoning, did little to improve the dish.
Although I love the concept of Terzo, I was not enthralled by the execution. Perhaps after the hype and my expectations have been appropriately adjusted, I may be able to appreciate it better.
San Francisco, CA 94123
(415) 441-1496
Chef Mark Gordon
Dinner nightly
Last tried: January 2007
I had heard so much positive press about Terzo that I was quite happy to be able to get in, even with the hostess warning me that we had to vacate the table in an hour for the next reservation. The old Pane e Vino spot had gotten a complete facelift, with vanilla walls accented by dark chocolate colored wood, large mirrors, hanging lamps with yellow filament bulbs (I did like the giant single bulb chandelier over the six-top in the back of the restaurant), and of course the de rigeur communal table (am I the only person who dislikes this trend?). In short, it was appropriately stylish and chic, perfect for the yuppie cow hollow neighborhood.
I was instantly intrigued by both the menu and the wine list. About twenty small plates ($7-$12) and thirty different wines by the glass, from California, France, Spain, Portugal, and Italy ($8-$15), perfect for my noncomittal and short attention span tendencies. While sipping some 2004 Vinho Verde from Portugal and a glass of sparkling Huet Vouvray, we perused the menu and selected six plates ranging from soup to fish to meat.
The white corn chowder with creme fraiche arrived first. The smell was intoxicating but the taste did not correspond. Although the texture was pleasantly coarse and thick as one would expect from corn chowder, the corn flavor was very faint and the soup tasted diluted as though someone had accidentally dumped in too much water. This muted, diluted flavor seemed to be a constant theme in several dishes, including the wild king salmon. Although it had great, moist texture and was perfectly cooked with a translucent center, the salmon tasted like the kitchen had forgotten to season it before sending it out. The accompanying fennel salad was crunchy and fresh but again flavorless, with none of its characteristic licorice scent, and desperately needed more dressing.
Things improved with the next several dishes. The grilled asparagus with fried egg and romesco was both refreshing and hearty. The sweet fresh asparagus, enhanced by grilling, was accented beautifully with the fried egg and robust tomato/roasted bell pepper/onion/garlic mixture. The pepperoni and salami in the next dish, house cured meats with burrata cheese, were chewy, salty, and fantastic. Among the three meats presented, the pork rillette on grilled bread was my favorite, with moist salty fatty pork confit spread out on the charred bread. The small mound of burrata in the center, however, was disapppointingly bland and grainy in texture, instead of the creamy, poached-egg white texture I was expecting. (By the way, if you want bread, you must ask for it. When you do, you will get three or four slices of squishy white bread slices on a plate. You only get one slice of the delicious grilled bread with the charcuterie plate.) Next, the hand-cut noodles with butter and truffles were delicate and delicious, with the microthin slices of black truffles practically melting into the noodles and butter.
Unfortunately, the last dish, roasted Niman Ranch beef, again suffered from the persistent lack of seasoning problem. The beef was tough and chewy and remained underseasoned even after we added a liberal amount of salt and pepper (like the bread, you must also ask your server in order to get salt and pepper shakers). The accompanying two or three cipollini onions and two lonely wedges of potato, also lacking in seasoning, did little to improve the dish.
Although I love the concept of Terzo, I was not enthralled by the execution. Perhaps after the hype and my expectations have been appropriately adjusted, I may be able to appreciate it better.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)