Sunday, 11 January 2009

Berkeley Detour: Chez Panisse


When evaluating an establishment with as storied a history as Alice Waters' revolutionary restaurant, I can't help but feel the pressure to be positive. She was certainly a pioneer of "Californian cuisine." I dread the heaps of scorn from the neo-hippies if I were to say something bad about Chez Panisse. Luckily, I am relatively positive in my evaluation.

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I must make a qualification before my review: I went to Chez Panisse for the Monday night menu. For those unfamiliar with the menu structure, this is incredibly significant since there is only one set menu per day, meaning there are no menu choices. Mondays are the most rustic, hearty foods, usually three courses of a salad or appetizer, big entree, and dessert. Tuesday through Thursday, the menu gets an additional course and I imagine the portions slightly smaller. Otherwise, I can't imagine these skinny Berkeleites (sp?) getting through a four course meal. The food moves slightly more upscale, finally culminating in the Friday and Saturday five course meals (Sunday is closed). To give you an idea, this week's Monday entree is baked trout in salt crust and the Saturday entree is beef tenderloin.

Did I know all this when I made my reservations? I only knew that the Monday menu was $60, the Tuesday-Thursday $75, and the Friday-Saturday $95. Therefore, I'll qualify my review by saying I went on the cheapest night with the most rustic food. I would have to go back for a Friday/Satuday dinner to get the whole range.

Also, this review is for the Chez Panisse Restaurant downstairs. The upstairs Cafe is not reservation only and has an a la carte menu instead.

So what did I get for my $60--beans. A cassoulet to be more precise. Never been a fan of beans, but then how many Asians are (soy, red, and yellow excepted)? But I'll get to the entree after a description of this quaint establishment. From the outside, you'll see a building resembling a wooden cottage, slightly recessed from the street with a simple sign. The restaurant is old, and it shows. Yet, as I was walking through the doors and greeted by the maitre'd, I felt that they tried a little too hard to be a "fine-dining" establishment. It seemed as though there was a clear separation between the casual cafe and the serious (or stuffy depending on your persepctive) restaurant. Well with all that pretense, you'd think they'd have my table of four ready for my 9 pm seating. We waiting a good half hour before being seated, though the host was kind/professional enough to offer us a round of free drinks.



When we finally got seated, we were greeted by two sourdough loafs and a bowl of olives reminiscent of Lucques. Though I'd venture to say that these olives with pinches of coriander and fennel were even better than Suzanne Goin's. The spongy soft, whole wheat bread would could serve as a meal in itself. I want to say I could taste the freshness, but I might just be biased. If I hadn't known where the bread was from, I probably wouldn't have realized it. Although I will say as a Bay Area native, sourdough yeasts in San Francisco are superior to everywhere else in the world.


Having been seated thirty minutes late, I was even more miffed when each course came out so slowly. If they had two seatings, we certainly were already in the late one. There isn't much excuse for the late service. Finally, when the salad of Annabelle's chicories with Meyer lemon and anchovy vinaigrette made it to my table, we've already gone through three of loafs of bread. Not as fishy as you might imagine anchovy vinaigrette to be, the salad was a visual delight of vivid greens. In this case, if I couldn't taste the freshness, I could certainly see it.


Knowing now what a cassoulet is, I probably would've opted for another night at Chez Panisse. But besides the beans, this cassoulet au confit de canard had mountains of meat: duck leg confit, braised lamb shoulder, garlic sausage and even a surprise pork belly not listed on the menu. All the meats brought this dish together. Even though I don't like beans, I eagerly mopped them up to eat with that snappy casing sausage, crispy duck, or succulent lamb.


Funny that I had just read finished The Man Who Ate Everything by Jeffrey Steingarten, which featured a chapter on granita before our dessert came (after an agonizing half hour I might add). More precisely, clementine sherbet coupe with lime-lemongrass granita. I'm not sure why lemongrass is such a hit now, but outside of Southeast Asian soups, I don't like to taste it everywhere. The granita, think fancy snowcone, was incredibly sour. The bits of candied ginger and grapefruit peels helped cut through the tartness, but it was the meringue stick that did the most. Nothing like a whipped egg whites and powdered sugar to balance out an ultrasour dessert.


We received an oddly folky plate of mignardises of chocolate tea truffles and pistachio pralines. Biting into the truffles, I was surprised to discover a liquid center. The pralines were just like pistachio brittle. Given the slow service and hearty, but not-fancy-enough-for-the-money-food, I was somewhat letdown by my trip. However, I know I won't be a stranger to the Bay, so one day it's going to be that Saturday menu for me. When I have the dungeness crab cakes and grilled rack and loin of lamb, I'll have the full range of the Chez Panisse experience.

Chez Panisse
1517 Shattuck Avenue
Berkeley, 94709
(510)548-5525
chezpanisse.com
$60 for Monday menu

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Friday, 9 January 2009

dineLA Restaurant Week 2009

Ah, it's that magical time of year again--two weeks of prix fixe meals at some of LA's best restaurants. This year, the two weeks will be broken up into January 25th-30th, February 1st-6th. Here's the full list of participating places. So rather than have one set price, dineLA pulled an iTunes and is offering meals divided into three price tiers.
Lunch
($)Deluxe Dining:$16
($$)Premier Dining:$22
($$$)Fine Dining:$28
Dinner
($)Deluxe Dining:$26
($$)Premier Dining:$34
($$$)Fine Dining:$44
As you'd imagine, most places are "fine dining," which makes me question that category altogether. Here are some places that piqued my interest:
My picks...

Asia de Cuba ($$)
I wouldn't come here again so soon, but my last visit was rather pleasant. I've had the Alaska miso-cured butterfish that's on the menu this time and I'd easily recommend it. The venue is cozy and the prices are high, so now would be a good time to take advantage of the deal.

Beacon ($)
Besides the fact this is billed as a "fusion" restaurant, I've heard good things about the owners. It might be worth checking out for the lower end.

Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. ($)
Haha, no.

Chinois on Main ($$$)
I've been meaning to check out Wolfgang Puck's Asian side for awhile. However, they are only offering lunch for Restaurant Week.

Citrus at Social ($$)
From the pictures I've seen, Citrus is a beautiful restaurant. HC seemed to enjoy his trip with a similar menu.

Comme Ca ($$$)
It seems like this place will never cool down.

Gordon Ramsay at the London West Hollywood ($$$)
I was surprised to see Chef Ramsay making an appearance on this list. You would think he'd be above it all. But this might be a good chance to sample some of his dishes for a tighter budget.

Grace ($$$)
I've yet to try Neal Fraser's restaurants, neither Grace nor BLD. Yet, I doubt it would be a crying shame if I left LA without going to either of them.

La Cachette ($$$)
This has been on my try list for some time ever since I noticed it on LA Mag's top 75. It's convenient for me, and given my busy season schedule I don't think I'll be able to go far. So I've made a late Friday reservation here. Will definitely get an additional order of their famous foie gras.

Simon LA ($$)
I've wanted to try Kerry Simon's restaurant across from the Beverly center for some time, but it seems that no one ever wants to go with me. Their desserts are supposedly hardcore comfort food. Although that doesn't seem to be the case with this Restaurant Week menu.

The Bazaar by Jose Andres ($$$)
Usually I like to avoid the overhyped restaurants, but Kevin's dual posts have convinced me to rethink Chef Andres. He just seems like a cool guy. Hopefully his food is as good as his personality.

Water Grill ($$$)
Some bloggers seem to be going here. I like David LeFevre, but I'm not quite feeling Water Grill this time around.

Wolfgang's Steakhouse ($$)
Having been to CUT, there's a part of my palate that yearns to taste the Wolfgangs battle it out in beef. I'm also curious how much filet mignon you can get for $34. I expected a strip steak instead. However, if I did end up here, I'd have to try mighty hard to eschew those lamb chops.

Xiomara on Melrose ($$)
I want to say Xiomara, but the menu doesn't seem fun enough for me.

So here's my list. I'll try to make 3-4 of them this year after only going to Cobras and Matadors last Restaurant Week. Remember to request the Restaurant Week menu when you get to these places.

Let me know where you think you'll end up. Comment if you have some suggestions for me, or if you think these picks are just way off the mark.

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Sunday, 4 January 2009

Providence Dessert Redux

Thanks to a special invitation from Tony C of SinoSoul, I had an opportunity last month to meet up with plenty of dessert enthusiasts at Providence for Adrian Vasquez's eight course dessert tasting menu with wine pairing. There were some hits, some misses, but mostly plenty of ice cream.

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Considering this was a desserts only meal, I headed to Thai Town in North Hollywood for some quick dinner first. I would tell you about the wonderful curries, sausages, and rice dishes I had, but Tony ordered everything. I had no idea what I ate, just that it was a bad idea to overindulge before eight courses of desserts.


After wavering back and forth for about a second, I decided to pay $30 more to get the wine pairing. I might never have a meal like this again; why not go for the full experience? The first course, served as an amuse bouche at my last visit was the spherical mojito raviolo, a soft bubble of liquid that bursts with an explosion of tart lime juice and rum. Although it was similar to the one from my last visit, this time it felt warm and not quite as refreshing. I would rather take my cocktails cold, in a glass or spherified.


The second course was the first course from my last visit: kalamansi gelee floating in a white chocole coconut soy milk pool and shaded by a litchi-shiso sorbet. Another familiar dish, but significantly less amazing the second time. Its pairing with a Choya NV Ume Blanc plum wine kept the Asian theme of this dish with hardly a hint of alcohol. The cute miniature goblet was also a visual treat. Light wines for light desserts; apparently the rules are similar for dessert pairing.


As you can tell by the raviolo, the chefs at Providence aren't afraid to make use of kitchen technology. The sous-vide Jonalicious apple with barley ice cream, pine nut puree, and North star dried cherries was prepared "in vacuum" at a precisely controlled temperature to seal in flavors while allowing for ultra long cooking times. The combination of ingredients evoked images of eating cereal on a farm. Overwhelming barley flavor plus ripe apples had an Autumn flair. The paired Velich 2001 Muscat-Beerenauslese was a fruity Austrian wine with grape and apricot aromas.


Ah, "deconstructed" is certainly a word like "fusion" that turns me off immediately. Unfortunately, this is exactly how the waiter described the pumpkin "pie" a la mode with curry ice cream and pecan streusel. Curry and pumpkin flavors go well together; it wasn't the first time I had seen some sort of squash curry before. Combined with the Husch 2006 late harvest Gewurztraminer, I managed to get over my prejudice towards industry buzz words. I suppose the streusel formed the "crust" for this "pie," but a pie is so much dependent on that balance of flaky and tender crust that this definitely should not have been called a pie at all. I suppose calling it an arrangement of "pie-like" ingredients wouldn't have been too appetizing.


Though the ingredients for the milk chocolate-whisky panna cotta include Bailey's ice cream, a coconut milk raviolo, and nothing with peanuts, I still got the overwhelming sensation of peanut butter. Though if it tasted like peanut butter, the texture was silky smooth, nothing like peanut butter. It paired best with the Castello di Meleto 2003 Vin Santo del Chianti Classico, a Tuscan chianti that coats the mouth and had a curious tang of dried figs.



Though the sixth course is listed as one item, it was basically two different dishes. I began to feel as if Chef Vazquez would die if one of his dishes didn't come with ice cream. This ice cream certainly had the taste of burnt caramel, but without the oversweetness of pure sugar. The chocolate gingerbread and poached pears were the closest thing I had to a pastry, an issue I'll elaborate on later. Taylor Fladgate's 20 year old Tawny Port certainly had the aged oaky flavor of something 20 years old.



For the deeply rich course, I assume the equivalent of a main course, the waiter brought out chocolate ganache with peanut butter pretzels and Chambly Noir ice cream. The dense chocolate glistened mountain glistened and beckoned. Even the weird Sam Adams "Utopias" beer didn't deter from the chocolate. I've been looking forward to this Sam Adams liqueur ever since Joel Stein reviewed it in TIME. However, it tasted too odd to really pair with anything.


Finally, the dessert to the desserts was my favorite course of the evening. Normally, I'm not a fan of white chocolate, but these white chocolate crimson berry tea lollipops didn't have the cloying oiliness of white chocolate. In fact, the lollipops were refreshing opposites, a gusher of icy, fruity tea. Be careful to eat this in one bite, as our waiter advised us many times.


Though our dessert tasting lacked an amuse bouche, we still had mignardises of barley caramels, espresso truffles, and olive oil gelees. The espresso truffles and olive oil were exactly as I remembered before. The caramels had the annoying consistency of taffy as it got stuck between my teeth.

My impression of the night was a slight letdown. Though I don't think any visit to Providence can be a complete disappointment, I felt that the desserts didn't offer enough variety. To be fair, there was plenty of innovation, but the dishes were often too modern and lost the comfort appeal of dessert. Understandably, since it was so many courses, not one course could be really rich. But because of this restriction, the desserts failed to satisfy the primal cravings I get when I plunge into a cake or a pile of cookies.

Providence
5955 Melrose Ave
Mid-Wilshire/Hancock Park, 90038
(323) 460-4170
providencela.com
$30 3-courses/$45 wine; $40 5-courses/$60 wine; $50 8-courses/$80 wine

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Saturday, 20 December 2008

My First Warm Rice Omakase: Echigo



Nozawa-style sushi has been on my list for some time in all its saucy, warm rice glory. Sushi Nozawa, the home of the original "Sushi Nazi" Chef Nozawa, has been spit out apprentice sushi chefs left and right. Sasabune here, Sushi Wasabi there. I decided to go to Echigo because it has a reputation being a cheaper, more low-end Nozawa sushi restaurant. I wanted to try the warm rice sushi first at an affordable restaurant before going all-out into Sushi Nazi territory.

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I felt uncomfortable taking pictures at the Echigo sushi bar. The interior and exterior, part of a strip mall, doesn't scream high-end sushi. Also, since I came to Echigo to celebrate, I wasn't in a photojournalism mood. I was however, in the mood for a glass of jun shimeharitsu junmai ginjo, my favorite junmai at Tokyo Table's sake night. It was clearly as aromatic and crisp as I remembered, no harshness going down, and only a pleasant rice taste lingered on my palate.

At Echigo, the sushi bar is reserved for omakase only patrons. I had braced myself for the sticker price beforehand, and I didn't think I could get a good enough experience outside of omakase. What did bother me was that the omakase was a set course of one sashimi, eight nigiri sushi, and a blue crab handroll. The price is determined based on what's available. So far, my omakase experiences have always been "keep on coming till my stomach or wallet bursts." In the end, I think we received more than the eight pieces of nigiri, but I was still a Double-Double hungry afterward (after the Jungle Food Marathon, I'll measure satiety in In-n-Out Double-Doubles).

The sashimi course was actually three plates, a baby abalone, abalone liver and soft squid stuffed with blue crab. I've never seen a pretty little abalone shell so small, and biting through the crunchy flesh, I felt slightly guilty that whoever farmed it didn't wait for it to reach maturity. Unlike veal, which I have no qualms about eating, there's a catch limit on abalone. I'd rather wait for it to grow fully before adding it to the annual quota. Thought I'd be compassionate for the abalone--nope, it's a shellfish. I'm just thinking in economic terms.

The abalone liver tasted clamy and warm, not a particular inviting combination. Plus the raw taste of iron, which is always a liver deal-breaker, turned me off. Soft squid filled with crab could've just been a plate of blue crab. As I will discuss later with the blue crab handrolls, the crab was the star and the squid merely the container.

Our first nigiri was some surprisingly lean toro. None of that melt-in-your mouth, make you pray to Tuna heaven, deliciousness. The engawa (halibut fin muscle) was served warm, strange since I don't think it added anything to the fish. In fact, I could hardly taste any fish under all that sauce. Such a shame considering my favorite sushi is engawa. The hotate (scallop) tasted strangely more like a fish than a scallop.

Now the fish got a little more interesting. This was my first experience with sayori (needle fish), but again I couldn't taste any of the fish itself because of the heavy use of warm dashi sauce. As far as I could tell, needle fish doesn't have a distinct flavor of its own. Next, I got a pinkish fish that I could only understand as aji no kanpachi. It tasted like kanpachi although I'm not sure what "aji no" means. The chef put a large dollop of yuzu kosho pepper on the fish, giving it a spicy, citrus finish.

This was my first ono (butterfish) served raw. The chef served it with a small dab of sweet miso in the center. Its flavor resembled the miso-cured butterfish I had at Asia de Cuba. I guess ono and miso are a popular pair, although I think the fish has a memorable flavor by itself that may not be supplemented with sauce. The aji (Spanish or horse mackerel) felt cold and lifeless. It had no elasticity biting through the fish. I enjoyed the kinmedai (Golden-eye Snapper) and the spicy skipjack, but both had no memorable attributes besides sweet and tart respectively.

After a service of mostly lackluster, though somewhat exotic, sushi, the night culminated in the famous blue crab handroll. I could sing praises to the temaki, which I fondly recalled for days after the dinner. As far as I could tell, it was simply outstanding crab meat, but it tasted so rich I wondered if there was a secret mayonnaise addition. Echigo even offers a lunch combination of eight pieces of sushi and a blue crab handroll for $13. That would be quite a steal. In total, my omakase experience came out to about $48 pp plus drinks.

None of the sushi was terrible, but besides the blue crab, nothing seemed to stand out either. One complaint I had was that I couldn't taste the fish in some of the nigiri. Either it was masked by sauce or the fish itself just wasn't that flavorful. When it comes to sushi, I guess I like to keep it simple. I had the warm rice, and while it didn't detract too much from the sushi, it didn't seem to add anything to the food. I would be willing to try one of the higher end Nozawa places, but for now, Echigo's fine by me.

Echigo
12217 Santa Monica Blvd, Ste 201
Brentwood, 90025
(310) 820-9787
Omakase ranges. Mine came out to $48 pp, but it can only go up from there.

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Friday, 12 December 2008

What Does It Mean to Be a Blogger?

Looking back through my backlog of entries written by my fellow bloggers, I found Kevin's review on his second trip to Bazaar. Except, this entry was not as much a review as it was an examination of what it means to be a blogger. From his interview with Chef José Andrés and the subsequent comment by Rameniac, I took away something issues I'd like to address on my own.

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The title of this entry is phrased as a question precisely because I am not sure what responsibilities a blogger has. The evolution of communication has created this sub-class of journalists open to anyone with an opinion and a clever (or not so clever, as in my case) blog name. I remember before the term "blog" was even coined; my friends and I traded URLs to our then "online journals." It's something we seem to take for granted these days, the empowerment we gain from such easy access to publication. I started many blogs in my lifetime, but always as journal for myself. As such, I sometimes forget that this blog isn't a diary; it's written for an audience.

So now that my readership has expanded beyond just myself and one or two loyal friends, I encounter the issues of responsible blogging. This is the area highlighted by Chef Andrés to Kevin, I found most thought-provoking. I do believe that bloggers should be held to a higher standard in their field of self-prescribed expertise. By broadcasting your opinion, you have assumed authority in your subject matter. There are even places like Article Writing Services that will provide you with alternative viewpoints on whatever your subject matter is. Of course there are many people who write with no authority, but at what point can you continue to write ignorantly, especially when you have gathered a sizable readership? Of course Kevin has grabbed this horn by the bulls; his research and thoughtfulness is easily apparent. Personally, I enjoy food research, so I try to be informed about what I write. I try to make my blog more than a collection of places I ate and what I found delicious. Food writing shouldn't simply be a documentation of food. A major benefit of blogging versus Yelping is the personalization of the eating experience. Exceptional food writing inspires me to eat or to find joy in eating, not just tell me how salty the fish is at so-and-so restaurant.

Another issue brought up in Rameniac's comment was the need to "blog with a conscience." The consequences of our writing actually has a real impact on restaurants. Something I may have lost sight of, in an effort to become more critical, is that restaurants are businesses. Reviews are an important metric related to financial success. Therefore, I will strive to be more considerate of the things I write. Although, nasty food will still warrant nasty comments.

As I mentioned before, actually having readers certainly shifts the focus of the blog. Now that I'm writing for others instead of just myself, I feel like I have a duty to present honest criticism of restaurants. It is the balance between the conscientious blogging concept and the duty to readers that will be increasingly difficult to uphold. Ultimately, I believe we should write honestly, but make that writing as accurate and informed as possible. And if that's not hard enough, make it fun and delicious to read as well.

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Wednesday, 3 December 2008

The Big Black Noodle House: Daikokuya



Ah, living in Los Angeles with an affinity towards Japanese food, it's inevitable that I would stumble upon Daikokuya. But why does this little noodle shop gather so many supporters? As Rameniac, astutely points out, it is always overrun by "Giant Robot subscriber" hipsters searching for the newest "it" place. Certainly now that Daikokuya has been overhyped, it's on it's way down like the left-over noodles circling the garbage disposal. Those who are still waiting for hours outside the borderline sketchy part of J-Town are probably just a little slow on the times. Or maybe they really do find something special in each greasy bowl.

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I ordered the kotteri style ramen, extra fatty like I thought I would enjoy. In retrospect, enjoy is a tough word to apply when I felt sick to my stomach after eating a bowl of so much fat. Maybe it was my mistake for choosing the fattier bowl, but the normal bowl didn't look much lighter. Although the menu says the broth is prepared overnight and flavored with special sauce blends, I didn't get that much depth in my spoonful. The noodles didn't stand out in any way, a big disappointment in a famed noodle house. I suppose Daikokuya's fanbase comes from the Berkshire kurobuta pork, but watching the cooks slop the cold chashu into a bowl made the entire thing several notches less appetizing. The runny soft-boil egg was the most enjoyable thing floating in there.

Way overrated ramen

Besides the ramen, the salads served with each meal had some appeal. Chopped cabbage topped in the creamy Japanese dressing, it's simple but satisfying. Both the unagi donburi eel rice and the tonkatsu pork cutlet were also decent. That's the thing: Daikokuya makes good food, just not that spectacular a ramen. Of course, I do admit I have an udon bias, but I would not wait in line to get this ramen. In fact, we had to wait twenty minutes to eat at the counter at 4:40 in the afternoon. I'd much rather go to the nearest Santouka and not feel as sick afterward.

Tonkatsu

Salad

Unagi Donburi

Daikokuya
327 E 1st St
Little Tokyo, 90012
(213) 626-1680
daikoku-ten.com
$8.50 a bowl of ramen

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The Rise of the McDouble


The New McDouble. Looks pretty familiar, but with one important difference

I love McDonald's. There, I said it. Shower all the hate and shame you want on me, but I don't think it's a paradox to be a foodie and like McDonald's. I've posted about it before on a lighter note, but now I have some grave news. I went into the restaurant today for my $3.25 lunch of double cheeseburger, McChicken and small fries, only to discover that the double cheeseburger is no longer on the Dollar Menu.

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I never understood how the double cheeseburger costs the same as a regular cheeseburger. No wonder it was the best selling item on the wildly successful Dollar Menu. According to the LA Times, it costs McDonald's $.06 for each slice of cheese. In an effort to cut costs, the double cheeseburger has been removed and replaced with a McDouble, the same thing minus one slice of cheese. I applaud McDonald's effort to maintain the Dollar Menu, which makes up 14% of their sales. It takes a lot to maintain that Dollar Menu when so many other places have opted for "value menus" instead. And I'll be honest, I ate the McDouble and didn't miss that extra slice of cheese. Would I pay $1.15 for the extra cheese? Nah, definitely something I could live (longer) without.

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