Feast Blog

Saison had been on my list of must-try restaurants and it was when chef Joshua Skenes announced a series of “fire dinners” with some guest chefs that rushed to book a table because the first buddy he had working with him was the high-priest of vegetables, Jeremy Fox. Since leaving Ubuntu, I have been waiting anxiously to eat Chef Fox’s food again and had some brief hope in his partnership with Daniel Patterson for the Oakland restaurant, Plum, but instead it seems that Jeremy is looking for his own place instead.

What I did not know when I sat down was that the meal I was about to consume, was going to blow the publicly-lauded Benu out of the water. I am sure this write-up is probably a bit stilted because there there is an obvious question as to what the restaurant is like without the guest chef scenario, but based simply on the quality of the ingredients and preparation alone, I will definitely go back to see what Joshua Skenes does on his own. Those Chef Fox influences I know well and could detect his influence in certain dishes.

This review is also a little different in that I have separated out the photographs; I took a handful of shots of the restaurant upon our arrival. There are two seating areas, one inside with comfortable and intimate banquets surrounding a few rustic, dark wood tables and an outside seating area around the wood stove and fire pit. There are also eight bar stool seats; a chef’s table inside the kitchen and a similarly-designed table for the fire pit. After we completed our meal, Lisa and I went outside and struck up conversations with some fellow diners and Chef Fox who had been minding the fires. All of those pictures are at the end of the post.

But to the food first:

Château de L’Aulée Cremant de Loire, NV paired with an amuse of Wild Things, a concoction of cactus, pear, fennel and caviar. A few tender bites of texture and flavor dressed in crème fraîche. Reminiscent of Japanese textures, the cactus provided a bit of stickiness the way Mountain Yam produces a bit of gooeyness. The bright flavors of the pear and slight crisp spice from the fennel were all balanced with the salty caviar and hints of faint citrus from nasturtium buds. These tiny buds provided tiny little explosions of flavor that both intrigued and beguiled. Paired with the lively bubbly, this was a stunning beginning.

Alliment Laugner Cremant d’Alsace Rosé, NV. This 100% pinot noir rosé demonstrates a wonderful strawberry fruit with a faint sweet entry that expands into a delightful flowery blossom in the back of the mouth and was paired with Tomato In Different Ways. A beautifully composed platter was placed in front of us that showed a chunk of green tomato, tomatillo, a peeled yellow cherry tomato, nardello peppers, river vegetables, and small slivers of a pork product. The waitstaff then poured a thickened, unctuous tomato-based sauce and the worship began. With every bite the distinct ingredients produced exciting variations of sweet and spicy, rich and subtle, sexy and demure. We discovered later that the pork slivers were, in fact, pork face so any bite might have been cheek or jowl and the hints of salt playfully toyed with the freshness in the river vegetables and clean tomatoes.

Bread and Butter. We were not given bread and butter upon sitting down, but after two courses. I am not sure whether I should be annoyed or if it was done strategically. The bread comes from Acme and is their Upstairs Bread, a heartier and chewier carb, studded with whole wheatberries and rye without being dense or heavy. Warmed briefly in the outdoor oven, it is served with a disk of house-churned butter unlike any I have ever experienced. Flakes of smoked Japanese nori, river vegetables, and topped with fleur de sel, I cannot remember ever being so excited about a butter before. Had we received bread and butter upon sitting down, we would have easily just sat there and consumed piece after piece of warmed bread with this brilliant condiment. I am reminded of the fresh nori-studded rice I get at Nombe created by Nick Balla which is so good, I take it home for breakfast. The subtle umami and earthiness of nori elevates these simple ingredients but in the case of Saison’s butter, it does not hurt that Saison is churning their own butter on a daily basis. Absolutely gorgeous.

2007 Domaine Leflaive Mâcon-Verze, Burgundy poured with Polka Corn and Okra. The stunning white burgundy had a pale nose of lime rind but produced a creamy mouthy entry which expanded with fleshy and focused wine. I have always lamented Chardonnay for being over-oaked and it has taken me too many years to realize I just don’t like California Chards but this French version has tang and zip and structure. The red okra was prepared in several ways; thin, wafer-like slivers were nestled amongst some cornmeal-breaded and fried chunks. The smoke from the fire and a faint hint of ash played against the sweet seat of corn on which the okra was sitting. Like tomato dish, there is a playful juxtaposition of textures in the crunch of the fried okra with crunch of the sweet corn and crunch of the raw okra, toying against the faint tender okra interior and balanced out by the creaminess of the wine.

2006 Müller-Catoir Weissburgunder, Pfalz, Germany coupled with Various Carrots, our vadouvan, stone fruit and nasturtium. One of the things I miss about Ubuntu is the famed cauliflower with vadouvan and having the memories of that favored flavor brought back in this context was fun and impressive. Several varieties of carrots had been pre-cooked for softening yet given a darkened, charred exterior giving away to sweet mouthfuls of earthy goodness with chunks of peach and nectarine. The burnt crust on the vegetables exploded against spicy flowers and sweet fruit – all these seemingly disparate flavors coming together with their individual freshness; spice without pepper but with flowers showed brilliance in knowledge of the ingredients.

2006 La Font du Vent, Côtes du Rhône Villages, France showed a dark cherry nose and exploded with well-integrated fruit. A tannic entry with balanced black berry in the back of the throat. This showed well against Merlin Beets prepared in ash with buckwheat leaves, wild cherries and grains. This was a truly stunning dish – deconstructed ingredients, letting the diner choose which flavors to bring together. The brilliant aspect? A cylinder of of veal marrow which had been removed from the bone and briefly fried to produce an entirely crisp interior but maintaining the creamy, rich fatty interior. The occasional bits of grain developed the stable, earthy base with a core of the marrow fat, a heightened layer of earth with the clean beets and a top, bright sweet component in the cherry. Scattered amongst the plate were a few slivers of pickle, but pickled what? We weren’t quite sure — it could have been pear or apple but the bottom line is that the pickle produced a cleansing factor which elevated the simple marrow.

2006 Jaboulet Crozes-Hermitage, Rhône, France, a rich, jammy syrah unlike most syrah I have experienced from California in its intensely smooth, concentrated mouth. So easy to drink and a surprisingly big wine to be paired with Heartbreads served with muscat grapes, asparagus green, and alliums. We were told there were five kinds of garlic constructed within the dish but we were hard-pressed to detect that, they were so well integrated. Superbly prepared protein, a very thick, crunchy crust capped the lighter, sweeter underbelly of the meat. These were served atop a tiny brunoise of carrot, cocoa and romano beans, haricot verts, vidalia onion slices, and a few scattering muscat grapes. All of the ingredients themselves provided relatively delicate flavors with the wine elevating it in boldness. I can still taste that crunchy carnitas-like exterior of the heartbreads, craving it really…

Rhubarb Sorbet with milk granité. A simple slice of roasted rhubard set next to a quenelle of rhubarb sorbet but it was the milk granité which brought the simple offering together. That faint creamy structure which occurred in the back of the throat with the melting granité gave the sharp, rich sorbet a rounder mouth flavor.

2009 Giacomo Bologna “Braida” Brachetto d’Acqui, Piemonte, Italy. A slight, sparkling wine is ruby red in hue with tons of candied raspberry and cherry on the sweet side which surprised me to be paired with a fruit-based dessert, Summer Berries in their consommé with yuzu ice cream. A similar complaint that I had a Benu, simple fruit desserts with a frozen component does not quite satisfy my sweet tooth in that I want something with a little more substance. I greatly enjoyed the incredibly fresh fruit which had been macerated enough to soften and sweeten them and the yuzu was demure in its citrus component with a little crunch coming from the broken cookie underneath. I guess it is the Fried Dough Ho in me that craves something a bit more cakey and substantial.

Many of my friends know that I am on the continual hunt for the budget $10 lunch. I like those lunches that are either so filling that a modest dinner is all that is needed or one that is so ample as to provide left-overs for a supper snack. When a friend recently came to town and ended up in Hayes Valley, I advised her to pick some place that looked good for her for lunch and that I would join her. I admit that Cafee Della Stella had never attracted much attention as it lies across the street from the far more desirable (and expensive) Absinthe. And the fact that during the day, it is mostly empty.

But they had a sign out front that they had been open for twenty years and there was an economy lunch, so I didn’t mind too much. Besides, I was here to see an old friend and ended up being fairly surprised — not overwhelmed — but reasonably satisfied. While we perused the menu, a bread offering was presented; an herb-topped focaccia and classic Italian roll with a spicy, red pepper dipping sauce. The bread was probably day old at that point, but having two different kinds with an accompaniment (instead of butter or oil) was nice. Rose and I agreed to stick to the $10 menu which included a dozen different choices of mostly pastas, but a few sandwiches, larger salads, and a pizza. The pasta dishes came with a side of green salad or cup of soup.

Both of us were craving pasta and knowing we would be sharing, decided on a pappardale with fennel sausage Bolognese and an orecchiette with ground veal, herbs, and tomato cream sauce. The salad was simple and fresh – just lightly dressed greens and no extra frills or accompaniments. The day’s soup was minestrone and while flavorful, was mostly just a fairly thin broth and lacked any of the expected ingredients of beans, pasta, or hefty vegetables. Granted, there were some vegetables, but they were finely diced and far from substantial.

The pasta servings were larger than expected and not that bad. The pappardale was relatively thick had a nice tooth and the fennel sausage was surprisingly spicy and rich. Stuck-together orecchiette cradled thick, creamy veal-laden sauce. Both proved richer and a higher quality and larger portions than I was expecting for the price. Left-overs of both pastas were brought home and enjoyed later that evening. We both opted for glasses of wine which drove the price of our budget lunch higher than we should have spent, but I would not hesitate to return and refrain from the alcohol, keeping to the table-served bottled water.

395 Hayes St
(between Franklin St & Gough St)
San Francisco, CA 94102
(415) 252-1110

54 Mint is a small, two-story Italian restaurant which lies within Mint Plaza (formerly known as Jessie Lane). I’ve only recently discovered Mint Plaza and surprisingly, have now eaten at all four establishments within its small confines all within a single week. I didn’t even realize 54 Mint was among the others (Thermidor, Chez Papa, and Blue Bottle Coffee) until it was recommended by a local art guru with whom I was chatting during an Enrico Donati retrospective. My escort and I were debating where to dine on a Saturday night without reservations and Kendy assured me that 54 Mint would be just the place.

We were fortunate to arrive at a prime time on Saturday night and be able to get a table immediately without a reservation. I learned later why… I admired the surroundings; gorgeous inset brick walls next to clean white painted brick, shanks of prosciutto and sausages hang carelessly from hand-forged wrought iron suspended above the bar, and warm wood tables complete an atmosphere of comfort. The high ceilings are not necessarily conducive to intimate conversation as the surrounding discussions became a bit pervasive. And I will grant that the waitstaff were exemplary in their appropriately accented cordiality. But we were here for food…

My friend and I started with two different antipasti starters, Carpaccio di Polipo – thinly sliced octopus carpaccio with shaved fennel, extra virgin olive oil, and smoked paprika dressing – and Frittura di Paranza, deep fried daily catch of calamari, smelt, and rock-shrimp with smoked paprika aïoli. Now this last description is what was written on the menu, however what arrived did not include any shrimp whatsoever, just the calamari and smelt. And I could detect no smoked paprika in the aïoli. While the calamari was fairly well-prepared and not rubbery, the smelt was slightly on the fishy side and a bit tough. I give great artistic points to the gorgeous presentation of the octopus carpaccio; so thinly sliced to be transparent. It was actually quite flavorful and was probably fresh, however it was obviously prepared well before service as the sliced cephalopod mostly stuck to the plate, something which should not have happened had it been freshly sliced and laid out.

For our mains, my companion opted for another antipasti, the Sardine alla Griglia, grilled sardines with olive oil toasted bread while I was anxious to try the pasta, Rigatoni alla Carbonara, short tubed pasta with local organic eggs, “guanciale,” black pepper, and parmigiano. Again, I question the freshness of the fish. The sardines were exceptionally mediocre. Not only were they less fresh, but the preparation of grilled with squares of bread was unenlightening and insidiously boring. Except, perhaps, if you are after some obsequious religious reference to fishes and loaves. The pasta was equally uninspiring; laden tubes with thick and pasty carbonara made only slightly interesting with the addition of the guanciale.

I am sorry my FOOD at 54 Mint wasn’t more memorable, because it has so much potential. The servers were fabulous and despite forgettable food, I had a very pleasant, memorable evening with a charming friend. But the conversation and camaraderie is what I will remember moreso than unexceptional cuisine. Lastly, a note: 54 Mint is located at 16 Mint Plaza (at Jessie St), San Francisco, CA 94103. Why it isn’t called 16 Mint escapes me. I don’t want to try and figure out where the name came from as I don’t particularly care to figure out why others are so enamored with this restaurant.

A business trip in February to Beaverton, Washington brought me to the local eatery, Artisanal Bistro. Apparently it has since closed which saddens me, but I am still going to offer what was a lovely evening. Stylistically, it is reminiscent of a Parisian bistro with its bentwood, rattan-backed chairs, 1930s Art Deco styling, and giant murals. The space is large and while far from intimate, the waiters work hard to provide comfort and a very pleasant experience. The menu is seemingly staid and a throwback to the 1970s with its “classic” French offerings; Bouillaisse, French Onion Soup, and Escargots. There is no nouveau, California cuisine to be found here, but there is a perfectly enticing cheese counter near the bar area which beckons upon entry.

Dining with an old friend, we ordered to share and reveled in the nostalgia of a style of food I rarely encounter. To start, we shared a Beet Salad served with Endive and Spinach, Walnuts, and Humboldt Fog Cheese. Of all we tasted, this very well could have been the most “nouveau” of the entire meal. Generous slabs of cheese accompanied the well-dressed combination of greens and freshly roasted, ample beets. Here was a delightful opening which provided an excellent precursor to the Soup du Jour, a combination roasted chestnut and fennel, creamed together with single fried sage leaf and a small brunoise of foie gras to elevate the already unctuously creamy offering.

Our main entrées were ordered to complement one another; the Plats du Jour of Dover Sole Meunière and Duck a l’Orange. Although Dover Sole is traditionally fileted tableside by a server, here is was brought out pre-flailed and topped with fresh haricot verts, almond silvers, and capers. Fortunately the tail and fish head were left intact to allow for consumption of those delicacies. The fish was tender and moist, with the capers providing a necessary piquant contrast to the rich butter. The duck was equally as rich and tasted exactly like those I experienced when first my parents began taking me to “fancy French restaurants” in the early 1970s.

The true joy of the evening — and the biggest sadness about the restaurant’s closing — was the cheese. We had saved room specifically for the cheese and somewhat laughed when I asked our waiter for suggestions. It seemed he current favorites were all California cheeses. I wanted to experience locally-created cheeses and the in-house cheese monger came over and chatted with us for a bit to find out what our tastes were inclined towards. I advised that I ordered both a glass of Sauternes and Late Harvest Riesling to accompany and our cheese monger did more than accommodate. Hillis Peak is goat cheese made from Nigerian dwarf goats and is made from Pholia Farm, Oregon. A raw-milk cheese, it was tangy from a rubbing with oil and paprika. Red Darla, from Washington, was washed with red wine and produced a pungent, soft, and well-balanced offering. The killer cheese of the evening was Rogue River Blue, also from Oregon. Wrapped in grape leaves and macerated in pear brandy, this was one of the creamiest and intensely fruity blue cheeses I have ever experienced.

I regret I did not write this up in a more timely fashion – perhaps to have encouraged more patronage. It was a very memorable evening.

An older review, with no pictures, but still of interest…

For $30, this is a very, very good establishment. I was fortunate to share the meal with a friend who is great at eating half a plate and switching so for starters, we shared a salmon salad with fennel and sumac. This was very nice and quite summery; a platter of smoked Pine Loch Duart Salmon topped with a shredded fennel salad, studded with sumac and a citrus dressing. The salmon was not overly smoked and of great quality. Cool and refreshing, served with a Rhone white blend, this was the preferred starter. The second was a foie flan, served warm with apples and and a port glaze. While good, it seemed out of place at this time of year. I would have adored it in October or November, but for summer fare, I think it should have been more indicative of its season; cool and enticing instead of warm and comforting.

Our second set of shared courses started with “Crispy Monterey Calamari Sundried Pesto, Parmesan Risotto, Green Sechwan Foam.” I’m not entirely what sechwan (schezwan?) is, but this was very interesting risotto with a bit too many flavors. The calamari themselves were absolutely perfect when they could have been incredibly rubbery. And the risotto, again, was absolutely flawlessly prepared — not too al dente or too soupy. But with such distinguishsed rice and fish, and very good sundried pesto, why add the foam? Or, why add the pesto? Either flavor would have been just fine, but both together seemed too convoluted. My friend ordered and drank all of his Cotes du Rhone with this dish and I only had a quick sip so I have no comment.

The other entrée was “Pulled Lamb, Eggplant, Red Bell Pepper Coulis, Pesto.” This was served on a smaller plate and while a smaller portion, did not pull punches on flavor or quality. Tender and rich, the pulled lamb was piled into a large meatball-sized offering of rich meat with slices of thin eggplant and the two rich sauces; the red pepper coulis and the pesto. In this case, the two sauces worked well with the rich meat but like the foie, would seem a better dish served in the fall. It was very nice and homey, but slightly ill-conceived for the season. I ordered a du Pape with the lamb and with a freshly opened bottle, needed some breathing room to open.

Two desserts came out and we gave the waiter/Maitre’d carte blanche to serve us some dessert wine. The first dessert we finished easily was a “Vanilla panna cotta, Strawberry pepper coulis, candy almond” served with a glass of Sainte-Croix-Du-Mont. A very well-made panna cotta, it was the combination of fruit and cruncy bits that brought the dessert together. Or maybe it was the Sainte-Croix-Du-Mont, a slight botrytris cinera wine with beautiful brightness to juxtapose the fruit and nut. The other dessert was ‘chocolate moelleux, ”Mint creme Anglaise”‘. I’m sorry I didn’t make a note of the cognac-based dessert wine we had; very clear and light, there was just enough spunk to complement the rich, molten chocolate and hint of mint from the Anglaise. I was a little concerned; usually Banyuls or port works well with chocolate, EXCEPT when mint is introduced as a flavor element. All three offerings were just lovely and a great ending.

But we didn’t finish there. As we finished up the meal, we were each brought a half-glass of sparkling rosé, a perfect after dinner aperitif that was unexpected and quite thoughtful. The meal with drinks was in the $125 range before tip. And while the major detractor was that the dishes were served a little off-season, this is a delightful unexpected French bistro that should have been busier than they were.