Feast Blog

My first night in Glasgow was blessed with a last-minute concert offering by a favored band, Zero 7. Because the show started at a surprisingly early hour of 7:30, I had to find a restaurant that could accommodate an early dinner. During my Kelvingrove museum trawl, I spied the menu at Two Fat Ladies and was already sold on returning there, happy they could seat me upon opening at 5:30. The restaurant was warm and inviting, painted in lush golden yellow tones with a frieze surrounding the room of a bas relief ocean motif. The thematic room provided a great atmosphere for the gastronomic delights that were to come. In my usual fashion, I ordered a handful of starters so as to give me to optimum number of tastes without filling up too much on a single entrée.

With only a waitress to serve and a single woman chef in the front kitchen (you can watch her from the outside window), I was very well taken care in my choices to eat as many tastes as possible Reading through the menu, I was unfamiliar with a soup known as “Cullen Skink” and the waitress advised me that it was very filling and hearty. I asked if it would be possible to just have a taste and they were very gracious in offering me a small teacup full. Essentially a chunky potato, leek chowder, this intensely rich offering was simply butter-sautéed leeks, potatoes, and smoked haddock in milk and cream (at least that is how I made it when I got home in a desperate attempt to recreate the lusciousness I fell in love with).

While I would have happily munched away at this soup for an entire meal, but too many other goodies awaited. First up with tuna carpaccio. Well, that is what they called it but but I am accustomed to carpaccio being thinly-sliced raw meat. Here, the slices were thick and generous – more sashimi like in their heft. Served with a caper-based dressed greens, thin slices of cheese and cracked pepper gave it all a well-rounded and balanced flavor.

From the waitress’ recommendation, the next course were three magnificently large Scottish langostines. With the same caper dressing, the only way to tackle the beasts were to rip them apart and gnarl in to extract out the sweet goodness. During my tuna course, a young couple arrived and sat across from me. She was unsure how to eat the langostines and I heartily recommended sucking out the eyeballs and making sure to get the brain material. Her boyfriend wasn’t sure she would but watching me do so, she gained some courage and chowed in herself. We were both rewarded with our hard work; the flavors in the eyes, the legs, the head, and the claws were all remarkably different and worth the effort to extract.

The final course was roasted scallops wrapped in bacon served with mushroom risotto and roasted vegetables. The difference in English bacon versus American bacon is width. Here, the smoky flavor of the thick ham-like bacon overwhelmed the delicacy of the scallops. I tasted them together, but opted to unwrap my succulent morsels to enjoy them in their naked splendor. The mushroom risotto slightly on the thick side, but I didn’t seem to mind. Coupled with the sweetness of the perfectly-grilled scallops, the rich flavor provided a great counterpoint of earthiness to the brightness of the sea.

Sadly, I had to dash to get to the concert, or I would have liked to stay to enjoy some cheese or dessert. But this meal was the definite highlight of my Glasgow trip.

In researching the finer restaurants in Edinburgh, one name was mentioned more than others; The Witchery. Looking at their website, one sees a celebrity list to rival an BAFTA runway. It took a bit of work to get reservations and before my arrival, I asked local cab drivers and hotel staff what they thought. All were enthusiastic with exclamations of, “Oh! That is where my husband brought me for my anniversary last year!” or “It is the most elegant restaurant in town — a place to go for special occasions!” Upon arrival, I could see the décor as reminiscent of an old world men’s club with its dark wood and elegance. I was greeted warmly and seated near the outdoor garden. Perusing the menu, I had mostly decided to order a variety of starters as they did not offer a tasting menu (despite asking beforehand).

At a table nearby, I spied another solo diner, a young woman asking the waiter what venison tasted like. It was obvious he couldn’t supply even the modicum of a reasonable answer and I intervened to offer an explanation. Realizing that she was not waiting for anyone, I invited her to join me at my table as we were both obviously dining alone. Melody and bonded quickly; both traveling alone, both looking for the best restaurant in town, and (charmingly enough), both members of a known cabal of knitters via Ravelry.com. Chatting about food and travel and yarn, a friendship was born over what would ultimately prove to be incredibly mediocre food.

Wanting to experience the ultimate in a haggis experience, I started my meal with their “Finlay’s of Portobellow award winning haggis” served with “neeps and tatties” (potatoes and rutabagas). Going completely traditional, I also ordered a serving of Scotch, a 20-year Oban. The potato was whipped and formed into a quennelle, then fried while the neeps was puréed and served alongside a golfball-sized haggis. Despite an insipidly thin sauce, this was the most intriguing dish of the evening so that doesn’t say much. Melody ordered a starter of scallop which was served in a half-shell with Iberico pancetta. These scallops were obviously sliced in half, swimming in over-seasoned, over-cooked and over-salted melted butter. Mel enjoyed them, but I found them inedibly salty.

Our main courses arrived. Melody definitely enjoyed her first-time venison, but I found it flabby and poorly prepared. Under the fanned slices of over-cooked meat was some of the same neeps purée that I had with my haggis and a slice of potato gratin all surrounded with a puddle of thin, clumsy sauce. The plating and all the components seemed rather bourgeois after the perfection and artistry I had experienced the night before at The Kitchin. The true catastrophe of the meal lied in my seafood platter. A cold selection of local seafood, the platter included oysters, clams, mussels, lobster, and prawns. There was also a half-shell offering of smoked salmon, tartare, and some mayonnaise-based fish salad. While not blatantly bad, it was obvious that it was simply not the best quality fish available, nor had it been recently prepared. The clams and mussels were puny and chewy. The lobster was mealy. The oysters were not well-shucked with bits of shell and no liquor left with the mollusk meat. Had Melody not helped me out, more than half of the offering would have sat un-eaten. 

I wasn’t ready to give up on the food and my new compatriot and I were having such a great time chatting that we decided to give the desserts a try. In my usual fashion, I opted for a cheese plate with a glass of Sauterne. Between The Kitchin and the café at Modern Art Museum, I had experienced several excellent offerings of Scottish-made cheeses and I was anxious to taste some more. God bless Mel for picking the dessert sampler which included a chocolate torte and sorbet, mango parfait, bread and butter pudding, pistachio macaroon, and puff candy ice cream. My cheese plate was offered in a rather perfunctory fashion with no descriptives and I called the waiter over to ask for an explanation of what types of cheeses I was being served. He started to tell me so that I could make notes when I realized he was speaking French. Well, they were all French cheeses — no local Scottish or even English cheeses. I didn’t bother to write them down. And Mel’s dessert sampler? I think we liked the chocolate torte but they were all unremarkable and went unfinished.

So, is The Witchery all it is cracked up to be by those locals who had raved about it? I believe it is but only because it is mired in a 1970s sentimentality of what a fancy, special occasion restaurant should be. It is all bells and whistles and no substance. And for those in search of truly excellent cuisine, it should be avoided at all costs. But for me, it will be the place where I at least met a great new friend.

I had a lot of dining recommendations for my trip to Scotland, but The Kitchin is the one I was looking forward to the most. Of my entire U.K. expedition, this was one of the two most memorable meals (the other being a grouse dinner I have yet to write up). A stunningly glorious meal as I am still recalling the most amazing razor clam I have ever tasted…

Dampierre 1er Cru Cuvée des Ambassadeurs, Champagne, France N/V

Amuse – Cauliflower soup with apple and crème Fraiche. A simple way to start a meal, but already showing bold moves to put a crème fraiche in a white, creamy soup. One would anticipate too similar textures being boring, but it was anything but. So often a cream of any vegetable soup tends towards the grainy, but this was absolutely perfectly smooth with a subtle base of coriander and the crème fraiche was not a hindrance in any way. The single beet root slice was eaten almost immediately and I regret not savoring it more slowly with the rest of the soup.

Dry Riesling Donhoff, Nahe, Germany, 2007
Razorfish (Spoots) from Arisaig, served with diced vegetables, chorizo, and lemon confit. Largest razor clam I have every seen; eight inches at least in length. It was studded with the smallest brunoise I have ever experienced with only the bites of razor clam being slightly larger than the vegetables. I had initially dismissed any additional servings of bread as I did not want to fill up, but in experiencing the elegance of the creamy lemon confit beurre blanc, I requested more bread to get every drop. It was that good.

Chardonnay Swamp Reserve, Hawkes Bay, New Zealand, 2006
Snails & Bone Marrow – roasted bone marrow served with sautéed snails from Devon, Iberico ham, and Scottish grolles with quail egg.
As with the razor clam, I was astonished at the size of the serving. In this case, the marrow was served “open face” with all the marrow easily accessible under the unctuous offering of snails, quail egg, and ham. My only complaint on the dish was that only a small toast bit was offered to scoop up the ample marrow, but I still had some bread left so all was fine. Intensely rich, the snails were not at all chewy with the addition of the Iberico ham being the only non-Scottish ingredient in the dish. Rich and satisfying, I knew I had to start pacing myself based on the confluence of flavors being presented.

Trimbach Gewurtztraminer, Alsace, France 2006
Pig’s Head & Langoustine, boned and rolled pig’s head, served with roasted tail of langoustine from Anstruther, and a crispy ear salad.
Inside was pork cheek and on top, fried pig ear. Bringing it all together was a collection of wilted lettuce greens, a creamy sauce akin to the most decadent tartare, and a rich circle of sauce. The langostine was perfectly cooked with no hint of being either under cooked and flabby or overcooked and hard. The thin layer of fried slivered pigs ears provided a great salt and textural crunch to the richness of the pig jowl.

Pinot Noir Hautes Cotes de Beaune, Domaine Delagrange, Burgundy, France, 2006
Poached halibut from Scrabster, served with ink pasta and a samphire sauce. I have to admit that I am not sure what samphire sauce is. With bits of saffron, I can honestly say I have never had a more stunningly perfect hunk of halibut. The “asparagus of the sea” bites were a bright juxtaposition of crunchy delight next to the tender and smooth fish and vegetables. Hints of saffron brought the dish together.

Mourvedre Yalumba, Borassa Valley, Australia, 2007
Venison – saddle of roe deer from Humbie, served with pumpkin, celeriac, roasted apple from Moira’s garden, and pepper sauce. A rather classic example of a protein offering with a root vegetable puree, a few slivers of vegetable that are fried to offer a crunchy texture, and some wilted greens. So incredibly tender

Mas Ameil, Maury, France, 2007
Cheese; Gabietou (ewe), Trappes (walnut cheese), Mont Briac (South France), Criffel (Dumfries), and Ealisa Craig (goat). Gorgeous cheese cart and points on being offered a wide selection of Scottish cheeses.

Recioto Della Valpolicelloa, Tommasi, Italy, 2006
Dark chocolate tart with served figs, chestnuts, and port ice cream. A perfect culmination to a fabulous evening. I have gotten tired of U.S. restaurants feeling the need to offer two and three desserts. One is fine for me and this was neither too sweet nor too heavy. I am only used to California figs and these Turkish offerings are milder and fatter.

A note on service; the waiters and waitresses are definitely international – from Australia, Barcelona, and France. They were young, energetic, and provided impeccable service without being over-bearing. I had to laugh that two or three times my napkin slid off my lap to the floor. Before I could realize it, a brand new cloth was offered even though the “dirty” one that had hit the floor would have sufficed. The room is elegant and modern. I am glad I had an early seating for a Friday night, there were two large parties which arrived at 8:00ish made the room rather loud. But I have found a reason to return to Edinburgh to eat Kitchin’s stunningly brilliant food.

I have often lamented the lack of a true yakitori here in San Francisco. And truth be told, we only have two izakaya in the city; O Izakaya which is close to me in Japantown and Sozai, in the Inner Richmond. It took me a long time to get to Sozai because of its location. I’m sorry it took me so long to get there and I genuinely wish it were closer, despite some minor shortcomings which I’ll touch upon later.

But first, the sake. We each ordered a sampler, giving us six different tastes; Yuki no Bosha, Dassai Nigori, Tama no Hikari Yamahai, Take no Tsuyu, Urakasumi, and Tengumai. They were all distinct and enticing, but the Yuki no Bosha was the smoothest and easiest one to get in trouble with. In ordering a lot of food, we were grateful that the owner guided us through the menu on what to order.

We started with an assorted Sashimi platter as we were there the only night they serve sushi. The pieces were not cut perfectly, but the fish was fresh and good. Next came oysters and we loved the presentation; a bit of tobiko and a side of ponzu granita. This was delightfully innovative for the oysters, which were of great quality. A whole sample of yakitori came next; chicken gizzards, hearts, livers, thigh (negi-ma), and meatballs (tsukune). Not quite the quality of Shin Sen Gumi (my favorite in the state), but very respectable.

Our next offering was a slow cooked pork belly shichimi which was out of this world. So tender and rich and very, very satisfying. Lisa always has to try whatever uni is on the menu, so a single nigiri order arrived. Ankimo was next in the offering and I’m sorry to say this was not of great quality. It seemed a bit on the grainy side for my tastes. Some vegetables were recommended and the grilled Japanese eggplant were a pleasant surprise. Grilled to give a sugary, candied exterior, it did not hide the succulent eggplant creaminess inside.

Seeing how much we were enjoying the evening, the owner sent out a treat, the name of which I know not; squid brains in fermented squid gut sauce. The squid was tender enough, but the sauce was a bit too overpowering for me.

We finished up with dessert; a sweet-ish unfiltered sake (came in a frosty, pin, bottle) paired well with chocolate ginger cake and green tea tiramisu. Now I was reluctant on the tiramisu; making it with a green tea flavor seemed rather contrived but both Lisa and I were pleasantly surprised. It was not as kitschy as I thought it would be. The chocolate ginger cake, on the other hand, was superb; decadent hint of ginger in the redolent rich chocolate. Not too dry, not too sweet, and although garnished with a berry sauce, would have been better with simple whipped cream.

On the very minor downside to the restaurant, it is far from elegant. The tables are close together and the bizarre selection of 60s music in the background can occasionally glare a bit loud. But I don’t need elegant or appointed to enjoy good food and the service was exemplary. And the good news is that just a day or so before, Eater announced that the Sozai owners and the chef from O Izakaya are going to get together for a third venue in the Mission. Hoorah!

After a handful of nice luncheons at Murray Circle, I was anxious to return for the Full Monty dinner. Accompanied by trusted dining buddy, Lisa, I apologize that the good camera was left at home and only the iPhone camera was available to document the evening. We opted for the full, eight-course Grand Tasting (they offer a four-course tasting as well). And after consulting with our server, determined that a shared wine pairing (1 to 2 ounce pours) would suffice for the two of us.

Drakes Bay Oysters as a bisque, Dijon mustard “floating island,” with watermelon radish. Served with Gaston Chiquet, Brut tradition, Dizy, NV. Two oysters were curled up and served next to a large, fluffy quenelle of mustard. The quality of the oysters was excellent, the soup portion was rich and creamy, and the influence of a hint of the mustard foam quenelle would have been nice, but the size of the quenelle overwhelmed the dish. I made the mistake of taking a large bite out of the quenelle because it was such a predominant ingredient in the presentation. After I realized how strong that component was, I concentrated more on the luscious bisque and juxtaposition of bright watermelon bits with just a taste of the mustard. Much, much better… The Gaston Chiquet was creamy and a perfect accompaniment.

Gulf Prawns from the plancha, cherry tomatoes “aigre-doux,” corn velouté, and basil popcorn. Served with Domaine de la Cadette, La Chatelaine, Vézelay, Burgundy, 2007. The wine was lovely with well-integrated mineral notes and complexity. The wine worked well with the corn velouté but sadly, the rest of the dish fell woefully short. We were both intrigued with the concept of basil popcorn and immediately tasted one, but were mostly disappointed. The prawns were not cooked properly and had a mushy texture which did not work well against the mushiness of the tomatoes. It was just a sad, sad dish overall and went back to the kitchen mostly un-eaten.

Dayboat Halibut, grilled in fig leaves, sassafras, hazelnut, with sea urchin emulsion. Served with Michel-Schlumberger, La Brume Chardonnay, Dry Creek, 2006. I was not particularly thrilled with a second Chardonnay (there ARE other whites that work well with seafood!), but once I tasted the course, I didn’t really care. Served alongside the halibut was sugar snap peas and hazelnuts and a parsnip purée. The urchin emulsion was served tableside and with Lisa’s devotion to uni, we asked for a little extra. Everything about this course was brilliant; the halibut had been grilled and the perfect amount of smokiness was detectable against the unctuousness of the sea urchin. The snow peas provided a perfectly crisp brightness. This course certainly made up for the indiscretion of the previously served prawn.

Squab and Lobster Salad served with mizuna and Zinfandel marmalade. Served with Fernand & Laurent Pillot, ‘Tavennes,’ Pommard, 2005. The imported pinot was very vibrant with a hint of wood and berry and was spectacular with the salad. This was the second winning course in a row. Considering the prawns were undercooked, I was a tad worried about the lobster, but I had no concerns on that regard. The richness of the lobster and the rare, succulent squab were great pairings heightened by the fresh greens. Excellent course.

Grass Fed Beef, wood grilled, with potato gratin and baby carrots. Served with Robert Foley Vineyards Merlot, Napa, 2006. The wine was velvety and silky, true Howell Mountain characteristics of ripe berry and integrated spice. A very respectable offering, I wish I could get excited about simple protein courses. We were more interested in the perfectly round potato gratins and sauce. Don’t get me wrong; the meat was excellent and perfectly prepared, but it was just meat.

“Aria” cheese baked in rye bread, apricot-whiskey, grapefruit. Served with Alois Kracher, Beerenauslese Cuvée, Burgenland, 2006. A triangle of cheese baked in a thin sliver of (what I assume to be homemade) rye bread. So many high-end restaurants fall short on the cheese plate, offering nothing other than a few slices with the routine nut and dried fruit accompaniment. This realization was well-conceived and executed. The hint of rye worked so well with the warm, creamy cheese. Just a few bites of grapefruit and apricot showed amazing restraint and brilliance. Fabulous.

Pink Pearl Apple Sorbet with Candied Fennel Cake and Fig Coulis. Served with Two Hands Brilliant Disguise, Moscato, Barossa, 2008. These little squares of fennel cake were scrumptious. This was a dessert I could get passionate about although the apple sorbet did not work with the sweet wine. Taking the miniature cakes on their own with the fig coulis and the wine was perfection. I could eat this several times over and wished I had stopped at this dessert. When we saw what the waiter was pouring, we asked for something larger than the small pours we had been receiving and were quite gratified that we were given a bit more. It was that stunning.

“Coconut Joy” – Dark chocolate mousse, milk chocolate glaze, with toasted almond ice cream. Served with Kobalt Cabernet Sauvignon Port, Napa, 2005. After the bliss of the fennel cake, this dessert was incredibly mis-guided in its execution. In the center of the mousse was a disk of coconut nougat the size of a quarter. A few bites of the mousse were fine, but when we got to the nougat, the mousse had to be destroyed to extract the disk. There was no way to cut the disk so biting it was the only way to take a small bite, only to discover it was hard and chewy. Served alongside was a larger disk of coconut meringue studded with almonds. Apparently the kitchen was trying to recreate an Almond Joy or Mounds bar, but failed short. The Port tasted good though.

Overall, it was a good evening. I’m not sure it was great. The successes certainly outweighed the detractions. I would go back for lunch.