RN74: Michael Mina's Wine Bar

Clack, clack, clack. I felt like I was in a train station instead of a Michael Mina wine bar and restaurant in the middle of San Francisco. Above my table, an old-fashioned schedule board with rotating letters, flipping to display the next bottle of wine. The board was a nice touch for the all-too-common semi-exposed industrial motif of modern restaurants. I could tell from my first step in the place that they took their wine seriously. Now I was curious about the food.
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I have yet to dine at Michael Mina's namesake restaurant, nor XIV, his Los Angeles venture. I didn't set out with the intention to follow him, but discovering that the darkened, rather non-descript restaurant on my commute every morning was associated with him, I thought this might be a good introduction into his culinary kingdom.

RN74's Executive Chef is Jason Berthold, a young chef as inspired by the wine pairings as by the ingredients in the regional French and contemporary American dishes on the menu. Maybe I didn't do him justice by forsaking full wine pairings for my dishes, but I did indulge in RN74's "Summer of Riesling" promotion by ordering a glass. I asked for something semi-dry, and got a glass almost too sweet to drink with any food. The waitress was kind enough to replace my drink after noticing my reaction. That said, their seasonal Pimm's 74 Cocktail,a blend of housemade Pimm's, ginger beer, campari and prosecco, was appropriately sweet for a summer drink.


The bread and butter came out. I absolutely can't get enough of San Francisco sourdough. And when I say San Francisco sourdough, I mean it. The local wild yeast makes the best bread, something that I have yet to see replicated elsewhere.


Since it is a wine bar, the endless winelist easily dwarfed the simple one-page food menu. For the first course: soft shell crab (celery leaf remoulade, citrus, ginger). The remoulade was not as creamy as I had hoped, but the crab was fried well, without any greasy weight of most soft shell crab dishes.


The sauteed pork belly & stuffed squash blossom (heirloom tomatoes, bacon, basil, lemongrass) consisted of fairly standard pork. I have yet to find a pork belly that is notably deficient in flavor. Mostly, I'm looking for the right crispy texture along the edges of my pork belly. The novelty of this dish was the squash blossom. Seemingly solid, it cut apart to reveal some delicious, unidentified filling. The texture was somewhat like fish cake, but with bits of bacon embedded in the white cushion. The tomatoes had enough sweetness to cut through the fatty pork, a requirement when dealing with pork belly.


Main course #1: sauteed Alaskan halibut (gnocchi a la parisienne, cherry tomatoes, celery, ginger, mache My first impression was the quality of the fish's seared crust--crunchy and savory while hiding a delicate white flesh. This was a sign of a well cooked fish. The blanched and peeled tomatoes added the sweet component to the dish. The gnocchi were especially notable. Reflecting the texture of the halibut, each gnocchi had a bit of a crunch, but a soft interior making a pleasant mastication experience.


As a rule, I typically do not order chicken at restaurants. I generally like to see the restaurant's skill at handling more interesting fare, but supposedly the mark of a quality French restaurant is in its roast chicken. Very well then, bring on the roasted naturally-raised chicken (cornbread, mission figs, gold corn, cippolini onions, braised bacon, watercress). First off, not too dry for a chicken breast. And beneath the breast lay pieces of what I suspect came from the darker nether regions of the poultry. The cornbread was an odd complement, but the sweet figs were a welcome addition. Was it good dish? Certainly. Would I order it again? Sorry, chicken, but I'll have to side with your aqua-bound brethren and choose the Liberty duck breast next time.

No dessert for me this time, but I was plenty satisfied without satiating my sweet tooth. The dishes were fairly large, at least larger than I would expect at a wine bar. I'm sure the bar menu items are smaller, better for multiple courses and pairings. My experience with the restaurant menu was stellar. I'll have to come back and sample a variety of small dishes with the appropriate wines and let Chef Berthold and Wine Director Rajat Parr show me where this wine bar should really shine.

RN74
301 Mission Street
San Francisco, CA 94105
(415)543-7474
~$15 appetizers, ~$28 entrees, ~$11 small plates

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Where Concert Patrons Go: Patina

For my birthday, my girlfriend surprised me with a dinner downtown. We drove up to the Disney concert hall and I knew right away where we were going.

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As the namesake restaurant of the Patina Group, which includes such LA eateries as Cafe Pinot, Nick and Stef's, I had high expectations. First of all, what is a patina? It's the oxidized change in color on bronze over time. The reason the Statue of Liberty looks green--false patina. It's a concept I considered when we entered. The small dining room nestled into the Frank Gehry concert hall was comfortably lit and quiet for a late Sunday reservation. We arrived just as the show was starting; an hour earlier and it may have been packed. Our French waiter, yes he spoke French, explained the specials and signaled for the bread cart. Bacon bread--already a good sign.


The amuse of white asparagus and aioli paired with a hot carrot ginger soup certainly surprised me in contrast. The crunchy asparagus in a creamy sauce paired with the soup well, though I expected the carrots to have much more sweetness.


Although this was my birthday, the tasting menu didn't offer anything eye-popping enough. My girlfriend chose the agnolotti filled with buffala ricotta with English peas, braised scarlet turnip, and speck ham. I don't know if it's just a coincidence or if it's a generally accepted practice, but pairing agnolotti with ham is an incredible idea. David LeFevre of Water Grill had served a spectacular dish of agnolotti at the 5x5 dinner. The buffalo cheese gave the delicate pasta a heartiness otherwise absent in the thin wonton-like skins. I was puzzled by the presentation of what looked like a green lawn. The speck ham, what looks like bacon, is actually more like a smokier panchetta from an area between Austria and Italy.





For my first course, I cheated and chose the Quartet of the Sea consisting of four immaculate square plates locked into formation. From the top: smoked trout blini, seared scallop with cipollini onions, lobster citrus salad, and tuna tartare with pickled cauliflower. The trout was much more refreshing than the all-too-often used salmon in this preparation. Grapefruit and orange garnished the lobster salad, though the color reminded me too much of ambrosia (a turnoff). I am a huge fan of seared scallops, and this was no exception. I also see cippolini onions so often at these kind of dinners. Apparently, they have a higher sugar content and the small, flat shape is conducive to roasting. Tuna tartare has been done to death, though the intensely tart cauliflower gave it a contrasting crunch that was innovative.


What makes a veal chop "authentic"? According to our waiter, grain-fed veal is "authentic." But isn't that how all veal is fed? My girlfriend's authentic veal chop with sauteed sweetbreads, maple syrup glazed cipollini onions, and chanterelles tasted better than it looked. The mushrooms were richly buttered and had enough bite to savor each forkful.


One of the reasons that my significant other chose Patina was for the game menu, which varies depending on availability. That night, I ordered the rack of venison with braised chestnuts, celeriac mousseline, and a pink peppercorn quince chutney. Though the smell of the plate had all the intensity of game, the flavor was quite a bit tamer. I'm familiar with the practice of combining gamey meats with fruity compotes, but I always feel like my preference for gamer is much wilder than the average palate. With the exception of elk, gamey is always my choice.



Though my girlfriend rounded off her meal with a coconut soup with a floating island of pistachio ice cream and spherified mango juice "gnocchi" I asked to see the cheese cart instead. We enjoyed the presentation of her dessert, the components sitting in a saucer that's subsequently filled by the waiter. Those little flourishes certainly make the meal more memorable. Having consumed a pack of Red Vines per day at work, I had enough sugar in my system. I settled on a triple-creme brie, a hard Italian pecorino, and a strong roquefort. My waiter actually wasn't much help in explaining the cheeses. By this time in the meal, he had seemed to ignore our table and favored the French speaking tables instead. I hate to perpetuate stereotypes, but the rude French waiter certainly still persists.



As a post-dessert treat, we received a tray of mignardises and a napkin basket of chocolate and vanilla Milano cookies. From left to right, I think the plate consisted of a cocoa nib, passionfruit gelee, orange marshmallow, cashew twill tuile, truffle, and carrot macron. I could eat a million macarons, except they're always so expensive. Does anyone mass-produce these awesome almond pastries?

Stuffed and finished with the food portion of our meal, the manager was kind enough to take us on a tour of the kitchen. Unfortunately, Joachim Splinchal wasn't in the kitchen, but I met his sous chef Santiago instead. He explained the various prep areas of the rather large kitchen. It looked straight out of my Culinary Institute of America textbook. What struck me the most was that the kitchen was almost half the size of the dining room and still heavily staffed.

My overall impression of Patina was that I didn't feel like I belonged there. It caters to the concert hall patrons, the stuffy old white men. As out of place as I was, I noticed an Asian man scurrying his family out from a dinner too expensive to bring children. That's when it hit me. If patinas are meant to convey antiquity, this restaurant definitely has that old-world feel. Patina's certainly not part of the hot LA dining scene, but it could be a dependable standby. Plus a Michelin star doesn't hurt.

Patina
141 South Grand Ave
Downtown, 90012
(213) 972-3331
About $200 for the meal...and $8 for parking

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An LA Institution: Philippe's

Most Angeleno natives have heard of Philippe at one time or another. Since this is only my fifth year in town, I just recently stopped by. What can I say about an institution that has been in Chinatown since before it was Chinatown? What you see is what you get.

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Beef French Dip with Potato Salad, Coleslaw and $.79 Lemonade

This is what I ordered at Philippe. It is nearly identical to the orders of the legions of people in the restaurant on a Sunday afternoon. You'll have to navigate through the throngs to find a line at the counter. Whenever you can, snag the attention of one of the people behind the counter to take your order. I have a feeling this system works much better on slow days.

I figured that the beef sandwich would be a safe bet, although I had to fight long and hard to give up on the lamb one. Knowing that these sandwiches have maintained their popularity for so long with hardly a change gave me confidence. However, the sandwich was a soggy mess. I had no idea that the sandwiches are pre-dipped for you, a rather disgusting concept if you think about it. I resorted to picking it apart with a knife and fork. Anytime a sandwich pushes me to those extremes is going to be the last time I eat it. The beef was dry and the jus soaked bread dissolved without imparting any flavor.

The saving grace was the restaurant's amazing hot mustard. If anything, I would just buy a jar and keep it for every sandwich that needs a kick. For the record, I have a jar of Plochman's Stone Ground mustard, which is just as good but without the heat. Also, Sierra Nevada makes a great mustard. I also enjoyed Philippe's potato salad. The dill pickles added sweetness and brine, plus the paprika gave it more spice. The coleslaw was also plain but up to par. If you're looking for cheap drinks, $.79 lemonade and iced tea are refreshing but filled with so much ice that you end up buying two anyway.

What you get at Philippe's is nothing special. The sandwiches, at around $7 are even on the expensive side. But if consistency is what you crave, I'm not surprised that this restaurant is an LA institution.

Also, can anyone tell me if it's pronounced "Felipe" like in Spanish, or "Fill-eep" like in French?

Philippe's the Original Restaurant
1001 N Alameda St
Chinatown, 90012
(213)628-3781
philippes.com
$7 a sandwich, $2-3 side, $.79 lemonade/iced tea

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Fisherman's Outlet Restaurant and Market

(213) 627-7231
529 S Central Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90013

Adequately Fed: $15
Lobster Bisque***
Charbroiled Sea Bass (Garlic Butter)*****
Charbroiled Atlantic Salmon (Garlic Butter)****
Coleslaw***
Fries*****
(Out of Five Stars)

Following a lead on the Yahoo homepage, I found Fisherman's Outlet, one of the highest ranked seafood restaurants in Los Angeles. Although I frequently complain about living in LA, the traffic, the sprawl, the superficiality, yet I'll have to admit that the food scene is eclectic and outstanding. This restaurant is an example of good inexpensive food, the type of closely held secret that only the locals know about.

First off, Fisherman's Outlet is barely a restaurant in terms of atmosphere. Like Pink's you navigate through long lines to order at the counter and eat at tables in the patio. On my visit, I arrived at 10:30 in the morning on a Saturday so I did not have to wait unbearably; at this time, there were still a good amount of customers. From what I hear, the restaurant does become incredibly busy during lunch hours, especially on weekdays when the downtown crowd comes by for some seafood.

Second, the major drawback of this place is the location. Nestled in downtown Los Angeles, at the end of a pleasant drive through skid row, Fisherman's Outlet is not in a good neighborhood. That's probably a good reason that they are only open for lunch 10-3:30 Monday through Saturday. But on the plus side, there's plenty of street parking and an accompanying lot. Whether you want to park on the street though, that's up to your discretion.

Since this is attached to a fish market, the fish is fresh and plentiful. The menu has much variety to satisfy the seafood aficionado. It looked like anything that swims or crawls in the sea is offered either deep fried or charbroiled. Though I did not try the fried offerings, the batter looked crisp and golden brown. My sea bass was unconfirmed Chilean, but then so many people lie about the actual origin I never know for sure. It came off the broiler with a moist interior and a crispy crust. The garlic butter sauce was nothing special, but paired with the fish, made a good accompaniment. In truth though, the fish was so delicious, it could have been eaten without any of the three sauces offered with the broiled fish, Cajun, garlic butter, or teriyaki. I've never been a fan of salmon, but their take on this all too common fish was also well-prepared.

Each dish comes with either fries and coleslaw or on a bed of rice. Make sure to tell them you want the fries or the default is rice. Biting into a golden crisp fry, I considered how successful their business could be just selling those tasty morsels. The coleslaw was too dependent on mediocre mayonnaise for flavor. My bowl of lobster bisque was unfortunately not very satisfying. I was expecting a hearty soup capturing the essence of the crustacean, but instead the flavor fell short on overwhelming hints of wine.

I do intend to come back and try some fried offerings. Although my visit was pleasant because of the time, I have considered how bad it would be if I had to wait in a long line and fight other hungry patrons for space at the tables. But looking at the experiences of other people, I'd say this place is worth whatever wait you need to endure.

Recommendation: Lunch only Monday through Saturday and make sure to come early.

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