Feast Blog

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.

I repeatedly said that for me, going to Ubuntu is like going to church; my spirit is awakened, wounds in the soul are healed, and exaltation is experienced. I went in yesterday on the tail end of a very bad day and left with a sense of spiritual renewal. It is quite frankly, my favorite restaurant in the world and with the exception of one course (the carta de musica), every single dish that was served was brand new to me so my sense of wonder at the artistry coming from Jeremy and Deannie Fox continues to appreciate. As usual, I called ahead to pre-order a tasting menu (not yet available on a day-to-day basis, I understand, but something planned for the future). So what was served may not be on the standard menu…  My biggest regret is that my new camera dysfunctioned by the fourth course. Hopefully the guest I was dining with will give me a link to his photos since I have so few. When we arrived, I ordered a bottle 2007 Seps Estate Napa Valley Viognier for the first part of the meal. For the latter part, I brought with us a bottle of 1978 Château Beychevelle, Saint Julien. The Viognier proved a perfect pairing for the “cold” dishes and by the time our hot dishes arrived, the age and softness of the Beychevelle worked excellently as well.

1. Cool ‘Athena’ MELON and LEMONGRAS purée with whipped coconut milk, ‘diva’ CUCUMBER, basil seed “caviar.” A year ago I had the slice of melon which had been brûléed in a different, watermelon-based soup. Now it was paired with a creamier coconut milk soup but heightened with the basil seed caviar and cool, crisp cucumber. A beautiful start.

Immediately after our soup, our utensils were whisked away and we were told the next few courses were to be dined upon with our fingers.

2. Crunchy RADISHES, crème fraîche with nori, mustard-banyuls, HONG VIT, and black salt. Served on a hunk of sheet rock, the radishes were laid out atop the layer of decadently-scented crème fraîche. We had great fun scooping up the dressing with the radishes and when the vegetables were gone, scooping up the dressing with chunks of bread.

3. PADRONS with flowering ‘banana’ MINT, chickpeas in Napa Smith ale, sauce romesco, smoked maldon. This was a two-part dish; sweet fried peppers were topped with fritters of clustered, fried chickpeas. Served alongside was the Romesco sauce. I’m not sure which were enjoyed more, the pure essence of the padron peppers or the batter-encasing chickpeas.

4. Carta de Musica with virtually the entire SUMMER GARDEN, barely dressed with ’round pond’ olive oil, lemon and sea salt, truffled pecorino. Eating this without utensils was a new experience; more visceral and personal. Instead of the usual long, silvers of Pecorino cheese, now the slivers were rolled up into rounds and it made it easier to scoop up the bounty of fresh vegetables.

5. A simple slice of ‘gem’ avocado, ‘cape’ GOOSEBERRY, local sea salt, cast-iron bread. A whole version of this avocado was served so that we could see just how monstrously huge it was and our charming waitress delivered it as “Av-foie-cado” has it has the highest fat content of any other type of avocado. Simply served, we were given large slices served next to a simple Cape Gooseberry and preserves. We would take a chunk of the avocado and spread it on the warm, salty flat bread which was served in a warm, cast-iron skillet (yes, at this point we were given our utensils back!). I was reminded of an anecdote where someone was served a simple peach as a dessert at Chez Panisse and now understand how the brilliant fresh taste of a single ingredient can be so impressive.

6. ‘Forono’ BEETS baked in a ROSE GERANIUM salt crust, ‘alpine’ STRAWBERRY, pistachio with soy milk, AMARANTH. Before this dish was served, the waitress brought out a Le Creuset cast iron skillet to show us the decorative smiley face that had been designed in the salt crust. When plated, we were each presented with quenelles of roasted beets, plated with the unctuous sauce and contrasted delightfully with the small, powerful strawberries.

7. ‘Oxheart’ CARROT mille feulle, NASTURTIUM panade, purée of peach and ‘noyau’, peppery NASTURTIUMS, ‘delfino’ CILANTRO. The ‘noyau’ was their version of a spicy mayonnaise. So much creamy goodness in this beautiful dish colored all with orange — from the carrots to the peaches. So rich, the nasturtium panade was an amazing complement to the richness of the carrots and peaches.

8. Chowder of barely formed BEANS & SUNFLOWER hearts, ‘luscious’ CORN, barigoule, TARRAGON, future sunflower seeds. I was getting full but this dish simply blew me away. A plate of of the beans and sunflower hearts was presented and the sauce was ladled tableside from yet another Le Creuset pot.

9. A ‘sunburst’ SQUASH, named “Merrick” by Chef Jeremy, with young COURGETTES scented with our vadouvan, BASIL. It was over this dish that the four of us dining bonded. Our server brought “Merrick” out to introduce us before he was prepared. Named after the Elephant Man, John Merrick, he was a mis-shapen squash of incomparable beauty and guile. Being one who names her creations, I had an affinity to Merrick and all that he stood for; Jeremy’s garden, the transmutation of the basic into the extraordinary, and the personalization of the intimacy of the ingredients. Once served, Merrick was plated alongside some miniature versions of himself, smaller courgettes and paper-thin slices of the squash, fried and served alongside the steak-like portion of Merrick. The vadouvan was the perfect choice to supplement the sweetness of Merrick with the well-integrated aspects of basil that did not over power.

10. Freshly-dug POTATOES, roasted then crushed, SHISO salt, garlic butter with lemon and miso, FICOIDE GLACIALE, smoked NETTLE. This was yet another dish that was shown to us before it was plated and served; three roasted potatoes, a Peruvian purple, a French fingerling, and a Rose (Klondike?) potato. Showed whole, they were trussed up with herbs but once served, were chunked alongside the ice plant and smoked nettle. Served as a dipping sauce was the miso butter. I had to fight the temptation to just dump the dipping sauce all over the potatos, but it was great to taste the flavors of the potato [i]au natural[/i]. I was getting full but these were so hard not to eat.

11. “French Onion Soup,” heirloom ALLIUMS, Deannie’s brioche, LEEK ash, “midnight moon.” I was fairly convinced at this point that I was going to burst, but the serving of miniature Staub pots with the aroma of the melted Midnight Moon cheese drew me in. Small roasted onion were hidden under generous slices of Deannie’s brioche which were topped with the melted cheese. There was only a hint of broth as the true joy of a French Onion Soup [i]is[/i] the cheesy crouton after all. They essentially did away with the complication of cutting through cheese toast that is on top of a bowl of soup by doing away with most of the soup and leaving all the rich oniony, cheesy goodness.

I have to emphasize the progression of dishes, from cool and light to hearty and satisfying was brilliant. At the beginning, one of my guests expressed concern about the small servings; he was worried that he would still be hungry, eating nothing but small plates of light vegetable dishes. By the time we were in the middle of the chowder, his fears were assuaged and I had to caution him that we still had a way to go.

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12. STRAWBERRY-hibiscus popsicles with ‘chocolate’ MINT. Served in a small shot glass, this was more of a clean, inviting palate cleanser. A juice with a bit of spritzer and yoghurt with the juice, small bites of tapioca were gems of strawberry flavor nestled on the bottom of the glass.

13. Stuffed SQUASH BLOSSOM fritters, stuffed with ‘santa rosa’ plum jam, NASTURTIUM ice cream, HONEYCOMB. The Fried Dough Ho in me was more than thrilled with this offering. The squash blossom was stuffed with jam, fried, and served on top of the ice cream. It was easier to go back to our earlier utensil-less fashion by scooping up the ice cream with the squash blossom and eating with with our hands.

14. Chocolate and BLACKBERRY soufflé with chocolate brittle and NASTURTIUM ice cream. Our server was downright giddy with the surprise ending as this was apparently a last-minute change to what had been planned for dessert. Perfect soufflés which were not too sweet were studded with fresh blackberries. I think the strength of this otherwise simple dessert was the fact that they were not overly sweet and the bites of fresh fruit were unexpected bites of richness. They were served with more of the nasturtium ice cream, a scatter of more berries, and sheets of chocolate brittle. But for me, it was all about the soufflé.

I am getting awfully jaded; every time I visit Ubuntu restaurant, with the exception of the signature cauliflower cast iron pot and the lavender almonds, I am served a varied assortment of new and breathtaking dishes. This weekend’s adventure took place with two girlfriends, both of whom thought we were stopping at a vegetarian restaurant “for a light salad.” I love blowing people’s minds…

We started with all of the “bites:” Castelvetrano olives marinated in mizuna pesto, chickpea fries with herbs and piquillo romesco, and marcona almonds with lavender sugar and sea salt. The chickpea fries were delicate and light – crisp and crunchy on the exterior and light and fluffy on the inside and the pesto concoction on the massive olives reeked of bright freshness.

Thus began the onslaught of delight from Chef Jeremy Fox’s kitchen… First up was a salad of fingerling potatoes, lightly
smoked sauce gribiche, ficoide glaciale, black garlic, capers. The last potato salad I had at Ubuntu was almost a year ago and was made with purple potatoes and the progression of Chef Fox’s skill depicted in a simple potato salad is impressive. I’m not sure if a year ago, their garden was producing the exciting offerings which now show up in the dishes like the bright and crunchy Ficoide Glaciale that is in this potato dish.

Our next offering was a “soup” of winter squash and courgettes served with tomato consommeé (poured after the photo was taken) with avocado cream, miniature tomato “raisins”, squash, and a few dots of concentrated balsamic. This was an elegant combination of so many flavors that melded together so serenely and expressively.

I love the kitchen’s offering of “Today’s Leaves and Things (amaranth, figs, apples, plums, tomatillos, pansies) dressed lightly with regina olive oil, mustard and sea salt. This dish is the perfect example of opulent freshness; served on a paper-thin crisp of brik, the combination of fruits and vegetables juxtaposes the richness of the soup we just consumed by the raw experience of pure freshness.

I don’t have an exact description of the next offering other than it was a melange of carrots to astound the taste-buds… With a hint of vadouvan spices, there were a cluster of large, braised chunks of carrots, quenelles of carrot mousse, delicate spears of fresh carrots from the garden, a bit of carrot foam, and a sprinkling of flower petals. Stylistically, the colors and composition made this one of the most beautiful, Van Gogh-like displays of food I have ever seen. Flavor-wise, one cannot imagine that so many different taste components could be provided by a single ingredient. It was hard for me not to lick the stone tile it was presented on.

The ubiquitous cauliflower in a cast iron pot arrived next and my friends were in a true state at this point. Both had tried to dismiss me ordering this dish as they claimed to “not care for cauliflower,” but impressed as everyone else has ever been with this unctuous, creamy offering.

What came next was beyond revolutionary and revelatory. One of my guests for this lunch was beloved friend, Leisl, whose Scottish heritage has her instilled with a deep and abiding love of lamb and potatoes and blood sausage. Health concerns have brought her to vegetarianism which was why I was so happy to share with her my favorite restaurant. What arrived next was Chef Jeremy’s version of Boudin Noir and there are few words to describe the synchronicity of this particular dish being offered on this day when Leisl was visiting, nor the actual tears of joy she experienced in tasting a vegetarian version of something she had so desperate missed. In a cast iron skillet was a layered confit of root vegetables and onions on top of which sat the “boudin noir” of rice, apples, root vegetables, vinegar and black pepper. As opposed to fake meat masquerading as a sausage, here there was simply a combination of flavors prepared in such a way to give a transcendent offering which when tasted, if one closed their eyes, would not know it was NOT a true blood sausage. Garnished with a quenelle of mashed potato and a poached egg, Leisl had to actually stop the lunch and begged our indulgence while she called her husband to share in the joy. We were all blown away.

Our next offering was a dish that my other guest, Kat, had specifically requested, local polenta finished with corn pudding, padrons, okra, green tomato relish, and amaranth. Creamy and rich, the polenta was studded with kernels of fresh corn and was brightened with the fresh roasted peppers and okra.

Thinking the polenta was rich, we had no comprehension of just how decadent and rich could be until the homemade macaroni and silver mountain white cheddar cheese arrived. Creamy and rich, the pungency of the cheese juxtaposed the creamy goodness on the tongue.

We were going to have them cancel our last course as we were getting beyond full, only to learn it was already fired and on its way; the homemade pizza with sauerkraut, emmenthal, purple mustard, with apples, garlic confit, and caraway all served with a poached egg in the middle. I have never had a sauerkraut pizza before and would never have thought it possible that something so seemingly innocuous could be such a mind-blowing experience. The addition of the poached egg provided a bright sauce to the deep, rich flavors of the kraut.

For the first time, I really had to insist that we couldn’t order dessert. As sad as I was to not have a smidgen of Deenie’s scrumptious offerings, there was quite simply no room left. I have to say that the innovations and offerings coming out of Fox’s kitchen are beyond comprehension to me. Every time I ask if there is a thought of a cookbook and then I wonder how he could possibly have the time; the menu seemingly changes so often that there must be several thousand of dishes in his arsenal now and how he could narrow down to a few hundred for a book would be quite an unenviable task. But, oh, am I ever hoping for one…

Ah, Chez Panisse… what happened?

Meeting new friends T and S for dinner this evening, the general camaraderie and lusty, culinary conversation could not belie the fact that our
California Icon is becoming a pale reflection of itself. I would like to believe that I am simply so jaded in being able to receive the finest of California’s abundant produce and ingredients, that knowing I am walking into a temple of what should be arguably the finest ingredients available, would entitle me to one of the finest meals available. Sadly, this simply was not to be. However, starting our first heavily-vegetabled course, we ordered a half-bottle of Spanish Albarino do Ferreiro which was perfectly light and clean; almost Sauvignon Blanc-like without the astringency.

After a bowl of Lucques Olives and Acme Bread, we were served our first course of grilled leeks with mustard vinaigrette, beets, and house-cured pancetta. Not listed in the ingredients but obviously an integral part which was included was hard-boiled egg. I am an intense leek aficionado but was initially concerned that the sultry leek flavor that I love so much was masked by the montage of other flavors which were far from cohesive. It was not that any one component was over-powering the rest, but the lifeless, limp leeks, in their stringy and chew state, did nothing to elevate the smallish chunks of yellow beet and occasional crouton. The bastion of fresh ingredients was beginning to falter

For our next course, we ordered a full bottle of Vina Caneiro, Ribeira Sacra which was adequate, but far too young to show any depth or integration.

The main course of the evening was described as Daube d’agneau aux herbes; Cattail creek lamb shoulder with herb-scented soufflé, fall greens, and carrots Vichy-style. Being the showcase protein, the first bite I took was of the lamb. While tender, I was immediately overwhelmed with the saltiness of the sauce. After that, I was underwhelmed with the overall flavor of the lamb; it simply did not provide that unctuous lamb flavor one grows to expect from the Panisse experience. The herb soufflé proved to be the highlight of the evening but was farm from groundbreaking. It was quite simply a very well-prepared, miniature herb soufflé; light, accessible, and with a perfectly-portioned amount of herbs where too many could have been its detriment. The “fall greens” as far as I could tell were simple braised Swiss chard (which I enjoyed) but the “Vichy-style” carrots were limp and mushy to a point just shy of that which one would find in a can. Here was an opportunity to demonstrate the freshness of an ingredient, and instead they were overcooked to become lifeless, flaccid members.

We were given the option of a cheese course before our dessert. From St. Helena, Haiku, a goat’s milk cheese, from Wisconsin came Marissa, a sheep’s milk cheese, and another locally produced icon, Red Hawk from Cow Girl Creamery. The cheese was served with an accompanying bowl of chopped persimmons and three dates as well as a platter of thinly sliced nut bread. I still never bother with any flavored breads as a vehicle for cheeses, the dates themselves were the highlight of this course. The cheeses themselves, while not overtly bad in any regard, were simply too similar in their lack of depth as to distinguish themselves.

The formal dessert course was listed as a poached pear tart with muscat sabayon. I only needed two or three bites of this to know there could be no salvation for the evening’s catastrophe. The pears — like the carrots — were so far beyond their state of freshness as to invoke concepts of can-dom. To inspire and imply a fruit or vegetable is fresh, I believe a level of “toothiness” is required, akin to a great pasta being a dente. These pears exhibited the same insincere mushiness as our carrots. The crust was soggy and flavorless, and the muscat sabayon lacked any tang or sweetness as to even suggest any other ingredient than dairy. It was all so desperately sad.

We
discussed and debated our meal during its transgression. The service — far from being warm and inviting, was perfunctory and cold. Where was the spark that was missing? I had dined at Chez Panisse several times before and thought that perhaps my palate is simply becoming jaded, however my dining companions seemed as unimpressed as I; has this simply become a destination restaurant for the occasional diner and the tourist, the way travelers to Paris feel they must visit the Louvre? Like those who feel compelled to worship at any other venerated cathedral without the introspection of the implied worship, I believe the religion that is Chez Panisse has lived beyond its time and is a mythological anthem that no longer exists except in the reverence and adoration of its devotees. It is a religion of yesteryear.