Left Coast Dining

I didn't make a reservation for the French Laundry this time, but I did go to two California culinary institutions during my business trip out to San Francisco at the start of the year.

Zuni Cafe
First I ordered two oysters -- Kumamoto and Malpeque, the only two I'd heard of -- beautiful with lemon juice. A glass of Pinot Blanc from Santa Barbara(?). The Ceasar Salad (which they are renowed for) -- excellent romaine with a slightly overly tangy dressing, I guess I'm not used to such an acidic bite when I eat regular old Caesar Salads, but I appreciated the anchovies. OK croutons. Next, and finally, the yellowfin tuna quickly seared on the grill, fleshy and raw on the inside, lots of flavor probably from a marinade, with white beans, also well-seasoned, olive oil, and I think some fennel if memory serves me right. Nice textures in the mouth. My waiter was a very elegant, cheerful and handsome asian man whose service was perfect -- well-timed, attentive but very respectful and aware. The vibe he radiated added a warmth to my whole experience that lifted the food up out of being routine. I mean, if you just glance at the menu, it's a restaurant that serves oysters, ceasar salad, burgers, roast chicken, and tuna. Big deal, right? Well, they are cliches for a reason.

Actually, where it ("it" being new American cuisine) all started was at...
Chez Panisse
where I went tonight with four good friends. Our reservation was for the upstairs Cafe, which was the "junior varsity" to the downstairs "varsity" kitchen, which I guess serves a tasting menu for a fixed price. I was underwhelmed actually, but I blame it on the JV squad. And my lofty expectations. I felt when I arrived there in Berkeley, I was making a pilgrimage. There's this East Bay thing where some of the restaurants have these steps you go up, like up to a porch, before you go in the front door. It feels almost like you're walking into a home. The architecture, as Christine told me, was characteristic East Bay style, which to me looked like a kinder, gentler Frank Lloyd school of ornamentation, kind of like Savoy if you've ever been there. Cherry wood, mirrors, brass plating on fixtures, early 20th Century French posters.

Again, looking at the menu, you'd think that what they're doing is "old hat", or as they say in classical music, they're playing the old war horses. And I suppose you can't go into Chez Panisse expecting the creative flair of Wylie Dufresne or the perfectionist wit of Thomas Keller. This is New American which is now Classic New American. It's classical in the sense that Alice Waters created a radically simple movement, and it worked, and as a result, Chez Panisse has to keep doing what made her famous. (The New Yorker I think was making fun of their particular style of menu-writing in this Talk of the Town piece. Like giving a shout-out to the actual farmer who grew the particular varietal of the fruit or vegetable you're about to devour.)

Anyhow, I ordered a duck breast and arugula salad to start, which was unmemorable -- good, but not astounding which I routinely expect from duck. That's the operative word: routine. Perhaps my palate is not so refined to pick up on the reverential treatment of things I don't eat every day (or grow). Anyways, three out of the five of us, sadly, all ordered the quail, which was butterflied and roasted, also with a nice, thick piece of pancetta, smoky and tender from the roasting, and placed on a bed of polenta. Nice, but again, routine. The best part of the meal was dessert, not mine unfortunately, which was a dutifully executed apple tart with vanilla ice cream. I gotta give mad props to Jim Mitchell's kishu nectarines, which were unbelievably tiny, about the same diameter as a quarter, but with tiny jewels of fruit inside that exploded with flavor in your mouth. Marvelous. Now that is what Alice Waters is talking about.