BELLANICO Restaurant & Wine Bar - A Wine Enthusiast’s Mecca

Are you one of those people who just doesn’t feel confident discussing wine?  I know I am.  I never fancied myself much of a wine connoisseur.  It’s overwhelming.  There is so much information to be digested, so many variations in the grapes, the weather, the year any particular wine was produced.  And don’t get me started on the regions, or for that matter, the various countries.  It feels as though if one isn’t a full-time student of wine, one has no business assuming any posture on the beverage.  It's not that I haven't enjoyed a glass of good wine in my time, but frankly, other than the way it tastes, I never really understood the mechanisms with which we are supposed to judge its qualities.  It wasn’t that people didn’t try to convert me.  I had a good friend in the early 80s who would tell me at length about the various wines he had acquired to add to his rather spectacular collection.  He would go on at length about what was special in each of them.  I will say that those wines he chose to share with me were indeed enjoyable, but it seemed to me that he was a little obsessed.  He was talking way over my head.  I just couldn’t relate.

But in the process of tasting his, I learned a little something about what I like in a wine.

Some time later, while passing Superbowl Sundays with another good friend, I received a “class” in this most complicated of beverages at the hands of a yet another self-professed wine connoisseur.  A former colleague of my husband’s who had purchased some acreage in Anderson Valley and had begun to grow his own grapes, this guy had taken things a step further.  He had begun to make his own wines.  As such, he’d managed to accrue quite a few bottles of rather nicely-aged home-made wine.  Opening one was always a bit of an adventure.  In the early stages of learning to bottle it, many of the corks were imperfect, causing some of his product to sour.  So we would either pop the cork on a bottle of a well-aged and lovely red, or we would find the bottles contents were not potable.  The wine we could drink was actually pretty good.  The oldest of his stash had the most unusual quality, a sort of buttery, almost dusty softness in the consummation.  It’s hard to describe when one is accustomed to younger wines, but a lot of the crispness, the acids I suppose, melt away and leave an almost powdery smooth taste on the palate.  I’ve never forgotten how mellow an old red can actually get, though I rarely experience that sensation as old reds generally come with a hefty price tag.   I continue to search for an affordable older wine.

That was decades ago.  Now that friend sells those very grapes to local vintners I often see on my grocery story shelves.  On any given day, one might go into a wine or liquor store and purchase a bottle produced in the Anderson Valley that is made up of this guy’s grapes.  Many of these vintners’s products are considered top of the line.  With prices to match.

Again, learned a little more.

But I remain overwhelmed every time I look at a shelf full of wines. The necessary knowledge is vast and tackling the understanding of it seems a complicated and impossible task.  Maybe it’s because I’m not very math-brained.  I absorb things in pictures and flavors, not formulas.  Understanding wine seems to me a little too much like being a good chemist.  So I wasn’t sure I could relate to those who are so passionate about the details of the vintner.  Could relate to people who seem to have a genuine appreciation for the art of making wine.  It looked to me a little like trying to learn how they do all those really tough magic tricks.  Never seemed worth the effort.  That is, until I met Elizabeth Frumusa.

Our meeting was one of those random twists of fate.  I was on the hunt for the next great place to eat in Oakland, someplace I could feature in my blog.  Elizabeth and her husband Chris own a lovely little bistro in the Glenview District of Oakland called Bellanico.  The other is Apierto in San Francisco’s Potrero Hill District.  Glenview is a part of Oaktown I am familiar with, having grown up on Lakeshore.  The restaurant is coincidentally located not far from my day job downtown.  On the occasion of my first meeting with Elizabeth, my pals and I had ventured up to Bellanico rather late in the lunch hour.  Bellanico is a popular destination, so upon arrival we found the place was bustling.  No tables. The BH and I are usually fairly determined table-dwellers, but on this occasion our dining partner suggested we try the merits of dining at the bar.  Close to the action and wine-glasses easily refilled.  Being Irish, it’s his favorite place to be at any given time. So since he was convincing, and bar seats were all that were available, we took it as a sign.  We took three seats open at the far end and began to peruse the menu.

We didn’t know it then, but Elizabeth was behind the bar that day.  So it was Elizabeth who served us our lunch, answering our many questions about the various dishes which are all written up in Italian.  After we gave her our preferences, she suggested some we should try.  We sampled an egg dish called Malfati, a bowl of pasta with spicy tomato sauce and Italian bacon they call “Pepati” and one of the creamiest burratas I have ever tasted.  The food here is truly magnificent, but this article is about the wines, so I won’t belabor the point.

After striking up a conversation (Elizabeth is delightfully forthcoming with information and extremely personable) we learned that she had lived in Italy for some time to study wine and the culture surrounding it.  Before quitting to manage the family’s second restaurant, she was also a wine vendor.  Well, that settled it.  We were definitely having wine with lunch.  The look on Elizabeth’s face as she describes a wine in her flawless Italian would have to be described as a “lit from within.”  Her enthusiasm is more than infectious.  She’s got a gift for describing wines that has a way of captivating the listener.  You just have to taste anything she describes.   She talks of the grapes grown near fruit trees becoming imbued with the flavors of the fruits.  She rattles off names in Italian that sound provocative, mysterious and that carry with them the promise of liquid magic.  The best part?  She delivers.

Elizabeth is Italian-American, as am I, so we really hit it off. But liking her is a bonus.  I remain impressed by her gift for understanding the grape, and for interpreting each guest’s likes and dislikes into a glass of something they will relish.  It is remarkable.  So as always, I say, get there yourself.  Check out her stash, I can guarantee you won’t regret it.

Cheers.

Bellanico
4238 Park Boulevard
Oakland, CA 94602
(510) 336-1180
www.bellanico.net

PLUM Oakland - (Pork) Belly Up to the Bar

A Rose....

It began with an email.  I get a lot of email, and even though most of it is information I have requested in one form or another, life just never seems to allow me to read every article on every new opening.  Hard truth is, there just aren’t enough hours in a day. The fact that I managed to receive this particular invitation was a combination of luck and timing. Guess some things are just meant to be.

One of my favorite new restos in Oaktown —  Daniel Patterson’s, Plum, helmed since shortly after opening by the incomparable Charlie Parker — was having a special prix fixe dinner.  The first of a series of such meals to be held on Monday &Tuesday nights, which will feature local-grown produce and proteins.   What could be more enticing?  Great food that supports local farmers.  Everybody wins.

The star of this particular dinner was to be The Pig.  A local pig butcher who’d worked with HAVEN Chef Kim Alter during Eat Real was sourcing the pork.  (Now, I’m a girl who loves pork in almost all forms.  Despite my decades old conversion to the laws of Moses, I still consume pork.  Raised Italian Catholic, giving up prosciutto seemed worse than cutting off an arm.  I was prepared to make the sacrifice, but my BH wouldn’t have it.  Fortunately the rabbis never asked me that question.)   Tantalized by all the potential in that “other” white meat, I made a reservation within seconds of receiving the emailed invitation.  Didn’t even run the menu by the BH.  We were down on the dance card.  All that was left to do was to wait and show up.

Beattie's Cucumber Cocktail

We arrived on the evening of our reservation, and after a brief delay while we waited for the hostess to deal with a fairly hostile walk-in, we were seated at the chef’s counter.  The counter is my favorite place to eat at Plum, or any other place that offers one.  I love sitting where I can watch the magic, the food becomes a lovely bonus while watching the best show ever.

There’s a certain kind of playful risk in a prix fixe meal.  Whether it consists of a simple and straightforward handful of courses or the more elaborate eleven-plus course “Chef’s Tasting,” one must be willing to submit their entire dining experience into the hands of another.  The patron has only one choice — to participate or not — he or she must become a guest at the table, dining at the pleasure of the Chef.   I find it invigorating.  Some Chefs are expanding on that experience, limiting their menu descriptions to suggestions of what is to come.  Recently, while being seated at Saison in San Francisco, we noted the “menu” contained only a single word to describe each course.  Last fall at the re-opening of service at the newly refurbished Eleven Madison in Manhattan, the diner was given a cryptic table, looking more like a game of tic-tac-toe than a menu, which contained several words in each line, supplemented by lithographs of seasonal symbols.  The diner was to select one word from each line, creating a mystical menu laden with unknowns, the words suggesting little more than which protein or other single ingredient might be in the dish.  The rest was left to the imagination.  Adventurous.  In the words of Anthony Bourdain “...your body is not a temple, it's an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.”

Pig's Ear Chicharrones

For the record, although the pig dinner was the first, there will be more of these collaborative prix-fixe dinners coming to Plum at the hands of Guest Chef Kim Alter of HAVEN*.  These neighborhood celebrations will each focus on local-sourced ingredients, whether from farmers, beer and winemakers, or any other talented vendor with wares worth experiencing in a meal.  Showcasing that which is locally available to the consumer and giving each a featured moment at a particular meal is a wonderful way to teach people what they can find in their own backyard, as well as allowing them to experience those ingredients manipulated into something delicious by some spectacular local talent.  It’s also a pretty genius way to introduce folks to new talent.  Personally, I want to be first in line when HAVEN opens later this fall.   The five course menu offered last week was also priced very reasonably at $49 per person.

Another fabulous addition to Plum: the long-awaited bar next door is about to open and is currently offering mixology through a delightfully “speak-easy” styled service window that opens into Plum.  The as yet untitled saloon is another of D. Patterson’s brainchilds, and brings to Oakland’s bright mixology landscape the substantial talents of Michael Lazar, gifted mixologist  who will be serving masterful concoctions prepared by himself and which will incorporate recipes from the renowned Scott Beattie of Spoonbar (formerly with Cyrus).  Lazar is an expert in liquors, most particularly Bourbon.  Mr. Beattie’s artistic input comes in the form of recipes from his vast array of seasonal recipes, and yes, they’ll have the familiar floral garnishes and elaborate ingredient preparation that have become legendary in the modern mixology movement.  Cocktails with flourish.   Look for the bar to be opening within the next few months.  I know I’ll be there!

Bloody, Bloody Mary

Though I love a good glass of Malbec, and am fond of the occasional IPA, I cannot resist a fancy cocktail.  To complement my Pig, I chose one of Mike’s inviting libations, a little something titled “By any other name” which was a lovely ambrosia of vodka, I believe, if I am remembering correctly.  The drink had hints of rose that made it very special indeed.  The BH ordered the simpler-titled, Cucumber Collins, which he found refreshing and much to his liking.  Mine was a Lazar original, his a recipe by Scott Beattie.  Both were perfection.

Now to the meal.  The first course description read: “PATÉ CAMPAGNE - bloody mary, chicharrone.”   We were served a lovely little plated containing a miniature house made Bloody Mary (a shot glass containing vodka, spicy tomato juice, seasonings and a dash of pig’s blood), which featured a cube of rustic paté on a toothpick with an olive, several haricot verts and a pickle as a “garnish.”  In appearance an invitingly precious mini-rendition of the cocktail.  The paté was rich and flavorful, seasoned beautifully and with a perfect mouthfeel.  This tasty little mashup of meats and herbs was a complete success in my book.  The chicharrone were fried pig’s ears, which looked like crushed onion rings and tasted almost like bacon, but not as fatty nor as naturally rich in flavor.  While pig’s ears are not a food group I would seek out, I found the presentation inviting and the flavors appealing.  See what I mean about adventure?

Tomato & Bread Salad

The next course bore the title “TOMATO & BREAD SALAD pancetta vinaigrette, flatbread, crema, arugula.”   This dish arrived on a share plate.  Broken flatbreads hot from the oven, mingled with a nicely tossed salad of the above ingredients and several chunks of gorgeous, chewy pancetta, beautifully browned, and crispy in the mouth.  The acids in the dressing mingling perfectly to balance the fat in the salad.  Lovely.

The next savory dish was titled:  “BACON & EGG “salad lyonnaise”, braised bacon, fried egg, chicory.”  This dish was a one-per-customer affair.  A thick crispy slab of pork belly, a bed of luscious greens, all topped off by the perfectly-cooked fried egg.

We watched them fry the eggs from our vantage point at the counter.  First they are cracked one at a time into a glass dish and the thinnest part of the whites drained away;  then the egg is slid carefully from the dish to be fried for just about a minute on the hot steel griddle, and lastly broiling it in a hot oven for another few seconds to seal in the yolk, keeping it soft and runny in the center with the whites neatly cooked to perfection.  Tricky, smooth, intriguing.  The end result went beautifully with the pork, which was crispy and delicious.  The BH insisted he didn’t like any kind of egg that was loosely cooked.  I insisted he try it.  He ate it all, and says he’s a bit of a convert.  Personally, whenever I am offered the option, I “egg” it.  Always.

Loin of Pork over kale

The last of the four savory dishes was the “ROAST PIG fork mashed potato, braised kale with apple, crispy pig.”   A moist perfectly prepared loin slice of pork over a buttery mashed potato on a bed of kale.  Simple, juicy, toothsome.  We polished them off in moments.

We were just about stuffed by now, but the sweet tooth had been activated.  It’s like a little button in my brain that goes off when I eat that well, everything on my palate teased to perfection except that one place that needs a hint of sugar to finish off the meal.  The dessert that evening was prepared by pastry chef Matt Tinder from COI.  The menu read:  “PECAN PIE smoked lardo crust, chicory cream.”  The BH also decried pecans.  He announced before we began the meal that he hates them, particularly in pie form.  Has never eaten a bite of pecan pie on any holiday event, not since he was a kid and gagged on a mouthful of the most loathsome preparation.  Or so he says.  When the subject first come up (he’d finally got a look at the menu) I’d reassured him that we’d order him something else.  When we realized upon arrival that that wasn’t an option, I kindly offered to eat his, and whip him up a proper dessert when we got home.  The dessert plate hadn’t been before him for two seconds, when he said with a sly grin “You’re not getting any extra dessert tonight.” I love being right.

Pecan Pie & Chicory Cream

The pie was excellent.  Rather than being overly cloying, it was just sweet enough, the fresh frozen cream served with it forming a milky marriage of flavors.  Along with the ice cream was a powdery dusting of something that was delicious when mixed in with a bite of the pie and the chilly cream.  Not sure if it was lardo hit with a blast of nitro, or some other magical concoction because the waitress forgot to come back when I sent her to ask the kitchen.  No worries though, it added to the mystery.  I don’t need to know why everything tastes delicious, or even what I’m eating, as long as it’s served by a trustworthy chef.  It heightens the adventure, and I’m all about adventure.

If you’ve got an evening with nothing to do, and you are thinking about going home to waste an hour or two on reality TV, do yourself a favor.  Check it out. Make some adventure memories of your own.

Plum Oakland
2214 Broadway
Oakland, California
510.444.7586
info@plumoakland.com
Twitter: @plumfooddrink

*HAVEN will be opening in November and will be located in the new space adjacent to the  Oakland Train Station at Jack London Square, in the same facility that now houses the Farmer’s Market.

Soapbox Sidenote: The walk-in was so rude and clueless that it made me wonder, again,  if there is anyone left on the planet who recognizes that they are not the only person living.  She stormed into the place ahead of those who’d been waiting patiently in line and had made reservations, demanded a table, and refused to listen to the hostess as she attempted to explain the format for the evening. When she finally did pause long enough to understand the meal was a set menu for the evening, she tossed the menu back in the face of the hostess (who remained patient and polite throughout) and stormed out.  There’s just no excuse for such rude and thoughtless behavior.  Ever.

eVe BERKELEY - Dinner in the Garden of Eating

My mother was born during the Great Depression.  In order to get me to eat my peas, she would tell me of the food she lacked as a child — of meals in her own childhood that were often scanty, with seven children in the family there were nine hungry mouths to feed.  To a kid raised on "sumptuous" TV dinners, it sometimes sounded that my mother was fed only tasteless gruel while I enjoyed Sailsbury Steak.  But if one listened more carefully there were other stories.  Of sweet red apples right off the tree that contained all the sunshine of summer.  Of white corn that still held so much natural sugar that she and her siblings considered it dessert.  My mother was a farmer’s daughter, and my grandmother cooked for everyone.


Theirs was a hard life, but a rich one.  My mom was raised in the midwest, and though there wasn’t  always enough food what there was, was fresh.  Food on a farm in the thirties was a genuine labor of love.  My grandmother milked the cows, separating the various dairy products by hand (Milk, cream, cottage cheese).  She killed and plucked chickens the day they were to be fried up for dinner.  Baked bread and pies, and every so often she allowed herself an indulgence for all her hard work, the rare aroma of a cup of steaming hot coffee.  She was one tough pioneer lady.

Spring Asparagus Stalks w/ "Terrine"

The people of my mother’s childhood were uniquely blessed.  Challenged to raise their own food and slaughter their own meat, they were connected to the food chain in the most natural and direct of ways.  They had a distinct advantage over many of us today, their understanding of the source of their sustenance allowed them to appreciate the fruits of the earth with which they were blessed, leaving them with a prevailing sense of gratitude for nature’s bounty.

That connectedness to our food sources was not as present during my childhood.  With America’s newfound love of canned goods and the availability of the TV dinner began a disconnect from the natural order of things that we are only now beginning to address.  Shortcuts that were invented to provide relief for women just like my mother, hard-working women raising small children while handling the pressures of a nine-to-five job, came with a price.

Souvide Egg

These shortcuts necessitated that the food be stored longer, prepared in advance.  Much of it was cooked beforehand, often draining all or most of the natural vitamins.  So the vitamins were manufactured and replaced into the food, salt was added to restore flavor.  Over time, the additives in our diets increased.  My food was plentiful when I was young, but much of it wasn’t particularly fresh.  Canned and frozen foods can sustain us, but it isn’t the same.  My mother would often comment on the lack of flavor, telling me I had never tasted real corn or real fruit because by the time it sat in the store the produce we got had lost any resemblance it bore to the produce of farm life.

Chilled Beet Soup

When I was a kid I dismissed her recitations, thinking she was speaking through the film of an exaggerated memory.  Everything seems more vivid to us as children, just maybe, she remembered these delicious treats through the haze of time.  How much better could they really have been?  These days I not only hear her voice when I eat, telling me of magical corn and fruit so ripe and sweet it imparts emotion itself to the eater, but I actually find myself quoting her.  I have tasted hours-old corn, and I am converted.  The religion of Alice Waters has claimed another disciple.

Recently we went to eVe in Berkeley for a family dinner.  One of the many such held in the Baby Lawyer’s honor.  The restaurant itself is a tiny nook, maybe seating not more than twenty people or so at a time.  But within its confines are some seriously fresh and fantastic flavors.  The joys of farm life have been resurrected there.

Lamb Belly w/ Pistacho "Stuffing"

The first thing they brought us at eVe was an aMuse boUche ---  a delightful little puff of saffron foam, topped with a smattering of fresh, tart currants.  My own mouthful of the creamy saffron goodness melted on my tongue, the finish of the tiny grape-like fruits mingling with the savory cream left me craving more.  I was ready for my dinner.

The meal we had was largely shared, as they so often are these days.  One of the common plates was a heaping of fresh aSparagus, in its natural state and in a terrine.  Both forms of greens were  laden with lovely morels, a sprinkling of almonds and the juice of fresh lemons.  An inventively green spring dish.

The menu is semi-prix fix, with each section allowing one or two choices, any additional choices incurring additional charges.  It's reasonably priced, except when you order everything. We ordered almost everything.  I had the bEet sOup, which arrived chilled, a  lovely gazpacho-style bowl of dill, radishes and carrots, the earthy taste of the beets balanced by the bite of goat cheese blended gently into its ruby hued ambrosia.  My BH had the soFt shEll cRab over risotto, the fried crab crunch set off nicely with a hint of ginger in the creamy risotto.

Pork Cheek Appi

Unable to resist the souVide fArm egG, I ordered that dish as well.  It was perfectly cooked, which is a trick I have never quite been able to master as a home cook.  Speaking of the farm, there is nothing that compares to a soft cooked fresh egg.  The rich yolk split open with just a brush of my fork, and its golden flood of flavor spilled rapidly over the bed of English peas.  The chef had added a healthy dose of black garlic and salty ham hocks, flavors that go together as naturally as the stirring notes in the song of the nightingale.  The salty fat of the ham, the acid flush of the green peas, the savory kick of garlic, all of these were swimming in a sauce made of succulent sunlight.

The kUrobuta poRk chEeks were likewise toothsome.  They had a delicate glaze of root beer and honey that acted to enhance the overall balance of flavor in the dish.  The hint of sweetness gave the pork that zing, and the bed of burdock root and dandelion greens, added some acid and gave nice texture and balance to the fatty pork.

The mains were simple and perfectly presented.  My parents both had the hAlibut, served with artichokes, lovely pearl onions, cornichon pickles and fluffy oyster mushrooms.  I tasted my mother’s and it was flaky and delicious.

I was unable to resist the laMb belLy.  Curious as to the unusual nature of the cut, I asked the waiter.  It was indeed from the lamb’s belly, the same cut as bacon, so was likely to be fatty but promised to be as flavorful.  Some experiments pay off, and this was definitely one of them.  The meat was beautifully marbled with fat, and had been ingeniously wrapped gently around a filling of pistachio and cardamon.  The stuffing absorbed melded with the fat to create a stuffing that was rich, fatty and delicious.  The flageolet beans were plump and buttery and the yoghurt in the sauce added a nice tang.   Remembering the flavors has got me salivating all over again.  This lamb was definitely a highlight of my dining excursions.

Fleur Verte Cheese w/
Apple Crisp

Of course we couldn’t skip desserts, so we ordered all three of them and plenty of spoons.  Two sweet, one savory (cheese).  The sweet tangy rhuBarb was beautifully flavored with coriander and served with a little raw milk pannacotta, served over a crispy whole wheat crust.  While I’m generally a fan of lighter flours, the texture of the whole wheat with the natural snap of the rhubarb was genius.  I loved it.  The “fleUr vErte” was a creamy cheese, flecked with edible flowers and served with an apple ginger chip, and a touch of mustard.  I love a good cheese and this was a great one.  The last dessert was ordered because my BH is a confessed choc-o-holic.  There was a housemade strawberry ice cream, dark and rich it paired beautifully with the dark, dark cHocolate cake, which came with an airy heaping of rich molasses sugar and a crumble of licorice.  One of the more inventive flavor combos I’ve seen in a dessert, we were all in agreement that it was entirely successful.

Rhubarb filling & whole wheat crust;
tasty "pannacotta" & rhubarb gelee

This is a great restaurant.  The service was attentive and gracious, and when the waiter brought us a little parting gift of a plate of scrumptious macarons, we were so full we could barely raise them to our lips.  But somehow, we managed just that.

We’ve come a long way, full circle.  It seems society at large has returned to the habits my grandmother practiced by necessity on the farm.  Pick it, kill it, eat it.  All in the same day if possible.  Fresh food consumption is quantitatively different.  I am aware that I am fortunate.  Fortunate to be able to eat as well as I do.  Fortunate that I live in a place with so many choices for people who appreciate good food.  And eVe in Berkeley is high on the list of places that understands what farm to table means.  Chef Christopher Laramie and his wife, Pastry Chef Veronica Laramie practice their art brilliantly, humming along in harmony, their love for what they do and for the beauty of the harvest is reflected in everything that arrives on the plate.  Those who dine here will come away having experienced one of the best meals the bay area has to offer.

This Garden of Eating is just what the farmer ordered.

Check it out, make a memory of your own.

eVe Berkeley
1960 University Avenue
Berkeley, CA
510-868-073
http://eve-berkeley.com

Chef: Christopher Laramie
Pastry Chef: Veronica Laramie

SPQR Fillmore - Senatus Populus que Romanae



California Burrata
with hazelnuts and herbs

My youngest daughter is visiting Rome as I write this. She’s one of the people with whom I love to eat most, her delight in good food is absolutely contagious. I am blessed in that my girls are my friends and companions, tolerating my maternal “insights” with boundless patience. Often featured on this blog, my youngest was mentioned first as the Law Student. After three years and a successful attempt at passing the California State Bar, she was soon sworn in, graduating here to the moniker of Baby Lawyer. Well the BL is quitting her fancy job and moving to Rome for love. Once there, she is planning to make a living teaching legal writing in English to native Italian-speaking lawyers. A job like that presents a challenge when faced with coming up with yet another pseudonym for this blog.

But I rise to a challenge.  Once there she will perhaps become the Traveler. The Teacher. The Transplanted Italian. I will hope for inspiration for her new nickname when we manage to eat a meal together “in Country.” At least there is that. I can visit her there, half a world away— time and finances providing. I wonder occasionally if she’ll enjoy living there, and I think for a time the answer will be yes. She is, after all, bringing my father’s family full-circle, returning to live in the land of my grandfather’s birth.



Crudo of Yellowtail

It’s a beautiful city, Roma. An urban place that is both modern and ancient, present and past. Open vistas look out upon the Tiber, an ancient slow-moving river, across which can be seen the dome of St. Peter’s. A morning walk for coffee can easily terminate at a great monument — the Coliseum ---  the Pantheon. Yet Rome’s streets are full of frantic mopeds and tiny racing cars, looking like nothing so much as the Matchbox cars of my very American childhood. All of them a blur, all carrying Italians hurrying somewhere else, speeding to a job or a date or an urgent appointment. Perhaps a tryst. Romans hurry. A lot. I wonder if they are conscious of the centuries of history that lays quietly beneath them as they fly about on the surface streets of this massive museum of a City. Or are they somehow in such a rush that they are unaware, taking for granted the magic beneath their feet. “Sempre Avanti” was my father’s favorite Italian phrase. Always forward. Like the Romans.



Waygu Beef Carpaccio



Italians are rooted in the pride of their history, yet often so absorbed in the business of living that they don’t stop for even a moment. Perhaps they believe that if they did stop, they might miss some tiny glorious fragment of life, and in doing so, commit the worst of mortal sins. That of failing to appreciate la dolce vida. Italians are nothing if not aware of the power in the beauty of simply living.



This train of thought took me naturally to a meal I shared recently with friends. We dined at S.P.Q.R. in San Francisco. A restaurant named after something uniquely Roman. The big heavy cast iron manholes line the streets, another bit of visible history speaking to a time gone before, all of them stamped with the logo ‘S.P.Q.R.’ Senatus Populusque Romanae : The Senate and People of Rome.

 The restaurant that bears this ancient moniker manages to capture in its food everything that Rome herself conveys. Without necessarily always translating directly into Italian food, the meals to be had there are vivid, like the city herself. The food at SPQR wears a modern exterior, culinarily speaking, yet holds within it flavors that bespeak a generous amount of adventure. Perhaps the chef understands what it means to build impact into layers of flavor, giving the diner a sense that beneath the surface there is more to be discovered. Much like the city reflected in the inscription that graces it’s doorway, SPQR embraces its name, and bears witness to the notion that there is more than meets the eye, that here there may continually be found something new, an adventure to be had. The next mouthful may reveal hidden treasure.

Pork Trotter

We are an adventurous lot, and so sampled a great deal of the menu. My companions on this occasion were the Dapper Diner and @CarinaOst. Both experts in all that is food. My BH made up the fourth at our happy table, and once we were seated, we were off and exploring.

The meal began with combination of severa Primi.  We had a lovely California Burrata with Herbs & Hazelnuts. Served on a large slice of toast, it was easy to slice into and share. I found it creamy and the toppings selected really enhanced the rich fatty cream flavor of the cheese. Along with the Burrata we ordered a gorgeous Carpaccio of Waygu Beef and a Yellowtail Crudo. The beef  was a platter of lovely thin slices of Waygu beef, perfectly rare and smothered in shaved Parmagiano Reggiano. The seafood crudo was a platter instead of raw fish, delicate slices of Yellowtail tuna gently sprinkled with olive oil and herbs, a few black cherry slices and a few nuts for texture. The final appetizer was a lovely Pumpkin Agnolotti, a delightful dish of creamy, rich pasta with pumpkin seeds and cheese crumbled over it.



Lamb with tangerines

 After our various appetizers, we feasted on our Secondi(s), the Italian name for the main course. My most adventurous dining companion, @thedapperdiner ordered the Black Pudding. I tasted it, but am admittedly not completely into the more outrageous of dishes. Black Pudding, if you are unaware, is a sausage made of pork blood and fat cooked down into a semi-solid. I like to try some offal, but some tries are more successful than others. Though TDD is brave and adventurous, I found that while I enjoy a good platter of brains from time to time, this may have been above my pay grade. From there we moved on to the BH’s choice which was a Napa Valley Lamb dish, delightfully prepared. The exterior of the meat kissed by the smoky flavor of the grill, the inside moist and succulent. A few slices of tangerine and some pepper really set off the flavor of the meat. Another of our companions had a gorgeous Idaho Trout, fluffy white fish with a nice crispy skin buried beneath tiny bits of potato and pork. The Pork Trotter Burger was rich and fatty, and delicious.  The final main we enjoyed was a Pork Ravioli. Like the Pumpkin Agnolotti the pasta was house made, golden and perfectly al dente. All of the flavors were unique, perfectly balanced, each dish a portrait in artistry.



Pumpkin Agnolotti

 Just writing this up is making me want to get back there soon. Some places just resonate with me, a little like Italy. They vibrate with life and flavor. SPQR was an absolute delight, and though it has taken me some time to get around to writing about it, I think it’s time to make a return visit. Remembering the flavors and the company I shared it with makes me want to go back. Maybe next week. But isn’t that what life is all about?




Check it out for yourself, and Bon Appetito!

SPQR
1911 Fillmore Street
San Francisco, CA 94115
(415) 771-7779
http://www.spqrsf.com/

Follow them on Twitter @spqrfillmore

Table size: cramped seating, but space for dishes (very European)
Noise level: boisterous, not for the deaf
Cost: moderately expensive

RIVOLI (Berkeley) You say it’s your birthday!



Champagne Flight begins the meal


In July, we needed to pick a nice place to celebrate my Better Half’s birthday. He is the sort of guy who will consistently allow himself to be put on the back burner for any one of his three girls, someone who won’t ask for attention, but who deserves to have a fuss made over him as often as possible. After years of focusing on the distractions of parenting, we are again finding we have time for each other. With so much to celebrate, it really seemed important to take him somewhere nice for his birthday.



I gave him several choices from our “next good restaurant” short list, and after a bit of reflection he selected Rivoli in Berkeley. The next step was to secure a reservation, which was simple enough. I’m a planner, and one can almost always secure a reservation if one calls sufficiently in advance. Once that task was complete, we were set for another evening of family bonding over delicious food, provided of course that Rivoli lived up to its reputation.



Corn Spoonbread Souffle with
Prosciutto



When we arrived at the restaurant, I was struck by the clean simplicity of the interior decor. It was pretty in this expressively neutral way, like it had been dressed in the restaurant equivalent of the perfect little black dress, simple, tasteful and chic. There was nothing about the interior that would get in the way of dining, no visual clutter. Rivoli’s was the perfect setting for an evening focusing on one’s companion, rather than one’s surroundings. Though I should note that Rivoli’s interior is not dark at all — rather it is the antithesis of black — light and uplifting, the surroundings echoing the colors of the sunset, maize colored walls, lovely curtains of rust and golden brown. One wall is comprised entirely of glass to showcase a beautiful blooming garden just outside the window. So far, so good.



Day Boat Scallops



We were a little date-night giddy upon our arrival at the restaurant, I think we may have even giggled a bit when greeted by the distinguished gentleman running front of house. The guy was charming and really good at his job. He made us feel welcome, like he was an old friend and we were guests in his home, yet he wasn’t the slightest bit overbearing. He was both a pleasant conversationalist and extremely knowledgeable about wine. These days, we have become almost restaurant ‘collectors’ so I confess that the opportunity to try out a new place to dine is a bit of a rush.



As we chatted about just how to begin our meal, Front of House guy told us that they had a flight of lovely champagnes they were offering by way of a special. The offer of champagne in any form sounded perfectly celebratory and the fact that they were offering us a flight of choices was enticing enough to provoke a yes. Soon he brought us two sets, three glasses each, of a variety of bubbly wines. One was a Prosecco di Valdobbiadene; the second a Cremant d’alsace Sparkling Pinot; and the last a Louis Roederer Brut. The Prosecco was crisp and fruit forward, the Cremant d’alsace (Pinot Noir) a little brighter, with more of the skin causing it to blush in the glass as well as on the palate, and the Louis Roederer Brut Premium Champange FR was dry and a bit spicy to the taste. A stellar trio of tingling liquids with which to toast our Birthday Boy!



Crab Lasagna with
Fresh Baby Tomatoes



BB (for today’s post we will re-christen him Birthday Boy) and I began with appetizers. I ordered the Corn Spoonbread Souffle. I would remind my readers that it was still the height of summer and there is nothing quite like sweet, summer corn. The subtle lightness of the airy souffle mingling the flavors of corn and cream, the delicious fresh vegetables that accompanied it in the nicely diced form of a summer succotash, and a beautiful helping of La Querai Proscuitto topped with a grilled peach relish. It was spectacular. I think I demolished it in some sort of record time, though I was trying desperately to make each bite last a lifetime. There was a drizzle of chile cream across the plate to give the veggies a bit of heat. This was one of the best corn dishes I have ever tasted. Perfectly balanced flavor profile and thoughtfully prepared. It was heavenly.



The BB orderd an appetizer of Grilled Day Boat Scallops. We are both regular scallop hounds, the lovely little crustaceans are buttery, sweet and enticing when fresh, and generally speaking, day boat is menu code for fresh. The arrived perfectly cooked, with that lovely golden crown on the top and the sides a glistening pearl. The fresh side of salsa verde a lovely enhancement to the sweet flavor of the seafood. BB gave me bites of his side garnish of chanterelle & porcini mushrooms which had been topped with a truffle cream and a sprinkling of toasted breadcrumbs. Delish.



Chocolate Cake



For our mains, we ordered the same dish, which doesn’t happen often. But the had a Dungeness Crab & Ricotta Lasagna with buttered leeks. Who doesnt’ order crab lasagna? It came with fresh summer tomatoes, a sauce of shellfish fonduta, a cheesy sauce not unlike fondue, but with seafood. Add a dash of Chervil puree and voila! Take that, Mario Batali!

We of course ordered dessert, because after all, it was a special occasion. The BB had a lovely chocolate torte with a side of creamy ice cream, and I had a berry pie. Summery and light, my pie was the perfect sweet touch to end the meal. He loved his chocolatey goodness as well, though I prefer something a bit lighter after something as rich as lasagna.

Bottom line is that Rivoli was as good as its reputation, perhaps better. The food was inventive, well presented, fresh, everything upscale food is supposed to be. The atmosphere was quiet and romantic, just the ticket for our birthday date night. We both enjoyed our meal tremendously and cannot wait to revisit to see what else Chef / Owner Wendy Brucker has in store! She’s a force to be eaten with! Check it out for yourself, and Bon Appetit!



Berry Crisp



Rivoli Restaurant

1539 Solano Avenue

Berkeley, CA 94707

(510) 526-2542

http://www.rivolirestaurant.com/

Table size: adequate

Service: magnificent

Noise Level: 1 whispering bell

Moderately expensive

PLUM - Dining Under the Harvest Moon

Recently I was fortunate enough to attend the second night of business at Chef Daniel Patterson’s new effort, Plum Oakland. I brought my Better Half along and we were early for our 5:30 p.m. reservations, so we were allowed to select our seats from virtually anywhere in the joint. We picked the two seats at the end of the long stainless steel bar, which allowed a perfect view of all that was happening in the kitchen. Dinner and a show. Psyched.

Why Plum? At some point I hope to be able to ask Owner / Chef Daniel Patterson that question, but for now, I will simply speculate. The word Plum to me at first seemed random, disconnected from a concept, until I entered the restaurant. The exquisitely textured walls at first appear black, but on second glance they reveal themselves a deep bloody wine beneath a darker purple, almost black, exterior. The wall treatment, which was hand-stained and then applied to the wall a strip at a time, looks much like the reflection of wine in a dark bottle when held to a strong light, or the skin of — you guessed it — a ripened Plum.



Chef Patterson oversees finishing
touches on a dish

 The interior fixtures were likewise intriguing. The ceiling holds lighting that looks like nothing as much as a handful of amber-colored stars, thrown upwards carelessly by a god in need of a little illumination. These tiny lamps form ovals of light all above the dining area, a warm and welcoming twinkle reminding one a little bit of the ovals of seeds scattered within the center of a ripened fig. The restaurant leaves one with the impression that he or she is currently contained within an arc constructed of a lovely section of overripe, sweet summer fruit, its ribs the bleached wood of the tables and chairs within. It’s peaceful and very conducive to pleasant dining. Really thoughtful decor.

Chef Patterson has chosen a dark green ceramic ware to plate many of his simpler dishes, which somehow furthers this feeling of being surrounded by ripening produce. An example is his fabulous Chilled Eggplant Soup, which in addition to the eggplant, contains fresh pole and shelling beans, and a hint of preserved lemon. The result is a refreshingly tangy liquid, whose flavor is enhanced by a creamy texture and a rewarding finish of cilantro. The dark green, earthy quality of the bowl and the vegetable flavors all worked together in unison to produce a successful combination of taste and visual harmony. If we eat with our eyes, then my eyes were approaching a full belly even before I tasted the soup.



Chickpea Fritters

 The BH and I were somewhat apprehensive at the idea of communal seating, but we ultimately found that we really enjoyed the counter-top show provided by our seats at the end of the kitchen bar. Watching the food as it was being prepared was all genuinely entertaining. Chef Patterson bent over each dish to verify the perfection of its preparation by each of his talented staff, the tossing of salads, the frying of fritters and most intriguing, the rolling of each grape sorbet before plating it with its cheesecake. We found everything about the kitchen staff engaging, and were constantly being handed free goodies by the Chef as he worked. A bowl of the Popcorn Escabeche, followed a bit later by a dish of the Potatoes Chicarones. A second helping of Chickpea Fritters. If Chef found a dish somewhat less than perfect, or an order was prepared that maybe hadn’t been ordered, we were handed it gratis — with a smile. This was an unanticipated benefit of the end seats, due perhaps to the fact that the place is still new and working out the kinks. The seats were really a treat. Chef Patterson probably returns to Coi once this place finds its stride, but we so enjoyed the attention while eating our meals. Watching various staff perform tasks like adding berries to the tops of desserts in a plating so carefully precise that they needed tweezers, kinda fun watching the love as it is dished out.



Artichokes

 So to the food itself? Mostly fantastic. We enjoyed the Potatoes Chicharones - they were a crunchy, crispy treat, reminiscent of a pork rind, except they were made of potato. The BH and I absolutely loved the Chickpea Fritters. They were a hot right out of the fryer ball of essentially hummus, with this lovely brown crust and soft warm inside that went perfectly with the cool refreshing yoghurt, all set off with a nicely with a bit of mint.

Popcorn Escabeche. I gotta say I really liked this one too. Another diner asked how the escabeche powder was made and Chef Patterson responded that it was made from powdered vegetables all prepared with a spice similar to how fish would be spiced with an escabeche powder, and that preparation was then freeze-dried and made into a powder seasoning of its own. This produced a popcorn that had multiple flavors, eating it was a little like finding a surprise in every bite. The seasonings coated each kernel a little differently, producing a variation that made for a little party in my mouth.



Beets and Onions

 Perhaps my favorite dish was the Roasted Beets and New Onions which was a rich, earthy dish of beets that tasted of the harvest.  The beets were mingled with these lovely softened onions that gave a bit of the expected pickled flavor, without stripping the beets themselves of their natural, almost smoky flavor.  Along with this was a sprinkling of pistachio that gave a nice contrast in texture to the smoothness of the beet.  Keep in mind I am a huge fan of beets, but this is only the second time I’ve had them prepared this naturally. It's like tasting the color purple.  We also enjoyed the Artichoke dish, comprised of hearts sprinkled with fresh crumbled cheese and a green olive romesco.  The artichokes arrived with a Potatoes & Chanterelle Mushroom platter, a nice combination of chanterelle mushrooms and new potatoes. By now we are getting full, but we still had our mains to come.

The BH had the Pork Trotter Burger, which I tasted. It was fine. The bun was incredibly soft, fresh made and perhaps my favorite part. The meat was tangy and well seasoned. I had the Lamb Stew which was something along the consistency of oatmeal.  Soft and flavorful. It came topped with a toasted bruschetta layered with a tangy vinaigrette, sliced lamb tongue and a tasty spread.



Goat Cheesecake

 For dessert we chose two of the four offered: the Goat Cheesecake was a light, airy cloud atop a fluff of graham cracker crust - a spectacular grape sorbet egg beside it. Watching someone with sufficient skill to execute the preparation of that item alone was worth the price of admission.

We also sampled the Milk Chocolate Creme with Basil and Pinenuts.  It was a lovely bowl with dollops of creamy dark & light chocolate, blended until just firm enough to form plump little tears of puddingy goodness. I'm sure it was formed somehow by the hands of an exquisitely trained staff member with special magic fingers, and then topped with leafy sprinklings of basil and dotted in pinenuts. This dessert was a chocolate lover's delight.  Smoothly rich, ultimately satisfying.

Milk Chocolate Cream with
Basil & Pinenuts

Oakland hasn’t had anything like this before, and it makes a lovely accent to the four corners of fantastic dining that have become the intersection of Grand and Broadway. There is much to be enjoyed here. The food is unusual, and the proteins in particular are adventurous to say the least. That said, I would say to stretch yourself a little. If unusual proteins don’t appeal, there is bound to be something else to try on the menu (those beets are so tasty and there’s always dessert!!). Plum’s decor, with its womblike black-purple walls, gleaming stainless kitchen, bleached golden wood and lovely amber lighting, is a feast for the eyes. The rich gold fixtures on the ceiling give the appearance of nothing so much as a sky full of seeds, the industrial sparsity of the lines within reminiscent of furrowed fields, there is an unspoken suggestion of harvest bounty within its walls.

I enjoyed my visit. The service was fantastic — attentive yet inobtrusive. The food was beautiful to behold and really, really good. There may be some kinks in the early days, as food this labor-intensive requires precision. All new rollouts have an adjustment period, but what I saw was an energetic Chef doing his best to see that every diner had a magnificent experience. Check it out, and bon appetit!

Plum Oakland
2214 Broadway
(between Franklin St & Grand Ave)
Oakland, CA 94612

(510) 444-7586
www.plumoakland.com/

Noise level: 2-3 bells when full
Table size: adequate
Service: excellent, attentive
Note* there is a 16% tip added to every bill -no matter the party size- to ensure that waitstaff is adequately paid.  Given the tipping habits of many and the extremely labor intensive food served, it makes sense.  One can always bring the tip up to 18%-20% if desired.

Post Script:  The chef has answered my question as to the title of the restaurant.  It is from William Carlos Williams poem "This is just to say" :

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

CALIFORNIA AVOCADOS ~ Every Little Taste of Them Was Magic!

Avocado Tempura Ponzu

The Hass Avocado. If you’re a California Native, like I am, you know it well. You grew up eating them. When those bumpy black avocados were in season, summer wasn’t far behind. They were the hit of every bar-b-que, every burger slathered in guacamole, or covered with its sliced green goodness. No salad was complete without being enhanced by that lovely grass-colored meat. We all understood that Hass were the best kind of avocado, to the extent that they were the only acceptable ones to buy. When my mother went to the market in the late summer, she would skip right over those thin-skinned yellowy-green avocados beginning to be placed on the shelves and look for the last Hass of the season.

We had been trained to seek out only the bumpy black avocados with the richer, nuttier taste. They were creamier, smoother, more full of that delicious avocado-y essence. We waited for Hass to be in season, going without avocado for several months out of every year because nothing else would do. I remember that when the Hass avocados began to disappear from the grocery store shelves to be replaced by their thin-skinned cousins, it was depressing. As a kid, it meant more than suffering a burger without good avocado, it was an omen. The final signal from Mother Nature that the halcyon days of summer were behind us. We mourned the loss of those lovely black pears until Spring brought them round again. All throughout my childhood Hass were considered the real deal. California grown. The best. So many years later, and not much has changed. Avocados still rock my world.

Recently I had the rare opportunity to enjoy and appreciate this beloved fruit of my youth as interpreted by  Chef Mark Dommen, the world-class visionary behind One Market in San Francisco. I was a guest at a lovely dinner given by the California Avocado Commission, which was beautifully pulled together by Golin Harris. An opportunity to mingle with like-minded lovers of the art of good food, the menu was an epic adventure of imaginative delicacies, each course enchantingly designed to feature and celebrate the California avocado.

After some words of welcome from the folks who were our hosts for the evening, we sat down to enjoy some good company and well-prepared food. We began with Chef Dommen’s Amuse Bouche: an appealing little Tempura Ponzu of avocado, with the fruit itself hidden inside a deep-fried wrapper of crunchy tempura goodness. The chill of the avocado hit the tongue like a tiny blush, the outside still hot from the fryer tingling against the tastebuds. There’s something wonderfully naughty about the single bite of an amuse. Like you have to pop it in your mouth while no one is looking...do the calories count, or is it like trees in the forest with no one watching? To me, eating an amuse feels a little like taking a bite of Eve’s apple.

Chilled Avocado & Pea Soup

The first official course followed. It was a spring soup of Chilled California Avocado & Peas. It was lovingly garnished with a bit of smoked sable fish and shiso, a form of Japanese mint. The flavors were fresh and seasonally appropriate, the tangy snap of the peas mixed well with the creamy flesh of the avocado. The peas were the slightly stronger flavor, which I thought was the right balance for this dish. When the smoky kiss of the occasional bite of fish made its way into the forefront of a mouthful of creamy soup it made for a lovely change-up and coupled nicely with the rest of the flavor profile. The soup was accompanied by a nice pairing of J. Vineyards & Winery Brut “Cuvee 20" (Russian River Valley, NV) a California sparkling wine. Superbly crisp and inviting way to set both the palate and the tone for the remainder of the meal that was to come.

Dungenes Crab Salad

The next treat Chef Dommen had prepared for his guests was a Dungeness Crab & California Avocado Salad garnished with lemon grass sorbet. Served almost sushi-style, the roll was a combination of tastes similar to what one might see in a traditional Japanese offering, though in this event the addition of a sorbet of lemon grass gave it a creative change up in character. The classic blending of the mellow sweetness of the crab and the soft fatty taste of the avocado are a personal favorite of mine, as they meld beautifully together. The fresh crabmeat was tucked delicately under wafer-thin slices of avocado, and slices of radish, all accompanied by a well-seasoned preparation of cucumber and other greens, all flavors masterfully topped off by the mixture of lemon grass, cilantro and jalapeno contained in the sorbet. The flavors of this dish had a wonderful pop, that bit of tangy heat really set off the sweet fresh crab. As a pairing with the crab salad we were served a Smith-Madrone Chardonnay (Spring Mountain District, Napa Valley 2007). Though I am not a wine expert, I found this wine set off the seafood beautifully.

Sous Vide of Alaskan Halibut

The next chapter in our little avocado story was a "sous vide" of Alaskan Halibut, garnished with California Avocado “hollandaise” and Quail Egg. I should mention at some point, that I am fairly fussy about my fish. Raised on red meat and chicken, I do not naturally gravitate to fish as a menu choice. That said, in light of the many new techniques available to Chef's with which to prepare their seafood these days, I am rapidly becoming a convert. Chef Dommen’s halibut steak was a masterpiece. Extraordinarily tender and impossibly moist, it was almost the consistency of a stiff pudding. At first glance, the process of sous vide appeared to me like those horrible “boil n’ bags” of my childhood, but the current product is the antithesis of the fare that those bags produced. Flavors are more than “locked in” as the slogan went, they are imbued with the Chef’s choice of seasonings in an alchemic fashion, much like Rumpelstiltskin turning straw into gold, and Chef Dommen apparently knows all the magic words. He chose to develop a faux hollandaise from the fruit of the avocado as his vehicle for its incorporation into the Halibut, bringing its flavors into the dish while preserving the subtlety of the halibut. The sauce was creamy and unique, yet it did not undercut the natural flavor profile of the seafood. As my quail egg broke and the yolk mingled with the other creamy flavors on my plate, I was in heaven. The combination of savory flavors and velvety textures was a resounding success. The asparagus served beneath the fish — likewise prepared by the hand of a master — had the perfect crunch. Spot on. This course was served with a delectable MacMurray Ranch Pinot Noir (Russian River Valley, 2007).

Grilled Steak with Avocado "Chimichurri"

In my mind, perhaps due to my palate being skewed toward the heartier proteins, the next course was the “piece de resistance.” Chef Dommen prepared beautiful slices of perfectly rare, red-at-the-center slabs of Wood Grilled New York Steak accompanied by a colorfully appetizing California Avocado “Chimichurri” and a Fresh Corn Polenta. Each of these relishes that arrived on my plate to accompany the meat were just delightful. The chimichurri was layered with tiny cubes of avocado, red peppers, tomato and a hearty dose of remarkably fresh sweet corn. There was a nice kick to the seasoning of the chimichurri, which I found particularly appetizing. The lush polenta and the juice of the hot peppers all mingled with the sugary corn to slap my mouth with happy. There is just nothing that tastes better with nice, rare beef than sweet summer corn. My mouth is watering, and I can taste it again as I sit here and write about it, the meal was so vividly and expressively laid out on that plate. I can experience again the sweetness of the corn polenta as it ran swimming with the jus of the meat, the smoky outer edges of the beef crunchy and crystallized where they had been caressed by the grill. This whole course was a slice of heaven, and I ate every bite. The meat service was rounded out with a robust Skylark Grenache (Mendocino, 2007), whose full-bodied flavor picked up on the red of that meat and really set it off. Sublime.

Meyer Lemon-Olive Oil Cake
with Avocado Ice Cream

After an amazingly well thought out meal, we had now arrived at dessert. To complete his delectable meal and to stave off the creeping melancholy inspired by reaching a conclusion to an otherwise perfect evening, Chef Dommen had prepared a delectable little array of toothsome goodness. Collaborating with One Market’s Pastry Chef, Patti Dellamonica-Bauler, they had concocted a Meyer Lemon-Olive Oil Cake, which had a lovely resistant texture to it, flaky and light but with a bit of sponge to it, almost like a cross between pastry and cornbread. To accompany the cake, Chef Dommen had whipped up a California Avocado Ice Cream, and sprinkled the plate with strawberries and almonds. The fruit was as sweet as baby’s kisses and the ice cream delectable. The use of avocado in the ice cream made it rich, but kept the result from being cloying. It was a luscious, sugary blend of flavors grounded by avocado, which made it extraordinarily creamy. This course was paired with a Calera Mt. Harlan Dessert Viognier (Hollister, 2006).

Lastly, we were fed tiny White Chocolate and Avocado Truffles. The hands flew into the dish so fast I was unable to capture an image of them for the blog, but that speaks volumes as to their appeal. And the taste was...Bellisimo!

I’ve spent the last year blogging about food, and more precisely, the experience of enjoying a good meal. When I dine I am looking for visual display of proficiency and skill in plating, unique flavor combinations that will stretch my palate and most importantly, the loving hand of a culinary artist whose goal is sincere. I will fall in love with the food of a Chef whose hand is guided by honest emotion. Give me a Chef who cooks with love over a Chef whose dishes are grounded in training alone. During our question and answer session with the Chef, others asked how he had chosen to prepare this dish or the other. I asked him why he does it at all. The answer was as I expected, because he loves it. The look on someone’s face when they taste something new, or experience a memorable meal is his reward.

Given the authentic emotions that went into it, I can honestly say that this meal, thanks to Chef Mark Dommen and his competent staff, rates right up there with the best I have ever had. I expected to enjoy a meal inspired by avocado. It is after all, one of my favorite foods. Yet I hadn’t anticipated something this entertaining and creative. The people I spent the evening with were likewise delightful, and as the evening unfolded, I found myself sorry to be heading home.

Well done all! So I generally conclude this blog with a note to the general dining public to check a place out. One Market is definitely a place worth checking into. With Chef Mark Dommen at the helm, you will be in good hands. If I can add something I learned from the experience, it would be that whenever a meal touches you, inspires you or simply makes you happy... tell the Chef. It’s why they do it.

One Market
1 Market Street
San Francisco, CA 94105-1420
(415) 777-5577

http://www.onemarket.com/