Feast Blog

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.

Ever since the team of Lori Baker and Jeff Banker took over the old Quince locale, I’ve been meaning to visit. Now named Baker & Banker, the space is darkly elegant, albeit a little cramped (it only seats 40-some diners at a time). My eating buddy, Lisa, had helped me through a hard day at the Cherry Blossom Festival and we were in the classic quandary of where to eat on a Saturday night. Lisa mentioned she became acquainted with Jeff Banker by occasionally sitting next to him at a mutually-favorite sushi restaurant, Koo. It was a long-shot to get a table and calling, we confirmed they couldn’t provide a table until 9:00 p.m. but there was always the possibility of grabbing a seat at the bar.

We decided to risk it and walked up the hill, we were rewarded with two of the remaining four bar seats. I think when I go back, I will never bother with a table as we had much more fun chatting with our server, David, the sommelier, Colin, and occasionally Jeff Banker would stick his head out to say hello. While an extensive five-course prix fixe with wine pairing is available, we opted for a smaller tasting menu we which put together ourselves and the restaurant was more than accommodating in pouring us miniature carafes of wine (single pours, actually) for us to share. While waiting for our first official course, an amuse was sent out of spicy ahi tuna with Vietnamese slaw, crispy shallots, and peanuts. We were very happy a taste of this as it was high on our list of one of the courses we wanted. There was just enough light creamy dressing on the bright fresh ahi to complement the crunchy goodness of the slaw and shallots.

To accompany our first course, we ordered a 2008 Matthiasson White Wine from the Napa Valley. A blend of semillon, sauvignon blanc, and ribolla gialla, the nose provided a clean aroma of lemon peel and stone fruit. The entry was clean and engaging and was a spectacular pairing with the house smoked trout on celery root latke with horseradish crème fraîche, pickled beets, and shaved fennel. The sauce was made from concentrated beets but it was the crunchy celery root latke which marveled. This was a great combination of fresh ingredients with rich trout and horseradish cream which could have overwhelmed, but did not. The wine brought out the smokiness of the trout without being oppressive yet also heightened the collection of vegetables. A really great beginning.

Our next course was a torchon of foie gras served with pickled rhubarb, house-made brioche, and Sausalito Springs watercress which we paired with a wine recommended by Colin, a 2007 Domaine Belliviere l’Effraie chenin blanc. The wine produced a rich, tropical aroma and gave a bright entry of kumquat. The foie was simply prepared; a classic example of a properly-prepared torchon, yet heightened with large grilled slabs of the house-made brioche. The true stroke of genius was the pickled rhubarb and watercress. The tangy goodness made the foie that much creamier and also emphasized the exquisite nature of the kumquat tones in the wine. Absolutely lovely pairing with a foie offering that was both wholesome and delectable.

After our two starters, we decided to share an entrée; Black pepper pappardelle with braised shortribs, wild mushrooms, English peas, and shaved pecorino. This was paired with a 2006 Occhipinti Siccagno Nero d’Avola.  While we were pretty happy with our first two courses, here we reached a new level of richness. The pappardelle was handkerchief thin, laden with earthy mushrooms which were punctuated by the bright spurts of the English peas. Once again, we had a wine pairing that blew us out of the water; muted fruit of dark cherry and black olive on the nose opened up to earthy tastes of smoky tobacco, mushroom, and a delicate eucalyptus at the very finish. The creamy sauce in our entrée had a touch of truffle oil which provided an exciting counter-balance to the earthiness in the wine. This is a very rich dish and I could definitely see myself ordering it again on my own, but just to assure I had leftovers for breakfast. I am not sure I could see ordering and consuming an entire order in one sitting, but it could be fun to try.

Of course we ordered dessert, strawberry-filled PB&J doughnuts with peanut butter dipping sauce. And a very extensive write-up of those can be found over at Fried Dough Ho.

My last evening in the L.A. area was blessed with a surprise visit by O.C. friend, Joan. She showed up as I was tearing down my booth at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium and after a very long day of peddling my wares, I was anxious to get some fresh air and just stretch my legs. We walked the Santa Monica Promenade which I had not been down in almost a decade. Not really surprised but slightly saddened to realize that all the independent shops had all been replaced with large, corporate chains. Even chain restaurants. There was a brief debate about dining at a Houston’s just because the wafting smell of grilled animal flesh was so enticing — but the wait was not and so we kept wandering. I was thrilled to see my favorite local British pub, Ye Olde King’s Head, was still alive and surviving and as we wandered close to consider it for dinner, we spied a small restaurant directly across the street, Bar Pintxo at 109 Santa Monica Boulevard.

We were incredibly lucky to snag a spot on the bar as minutes later, waiting diners were lining up behind us, waiting for a coveted seat at the very small, intimate establishment. I asked the waiter to bring me a glass of his favorite red wine. “Light or meaty?” he asked. Oh, definitely big… I was served a lovely ’06 San Roman-Prima Toro. Perusing the menu, I wanted to make sure I ordered enough veggie items to share and probably ordered one too many as Joan had to leave right as the food started arriving, leaving me to battle the onslaught of food to arrive. We were automatically given a bowl of really exceptional olives which certainly whetted the appetite. Spinach was a given as I adore sautéed spinach with garlic and this version also included pinenuts, apples, and raisins. This was on the more vinegary side, but still very fresh and bright.

I liked that a number of small plates were available, including the simple bites of tronchon with membrillo at $2, “parfait” of foie with caramelized onions and apples for $9, and dates wrapped in bacon with cabrales cheese for $5. The dates were amazing; just caramelized to that point of enticing sweetness juxtaposed with the saltiness of bacon. A neighbor on the bar had something I had to ask about and then order; a pumpkin salad with pomegranate seeds. Served with wilted greens and thinly sliced cheese, this was a delightful concoction indicative of fall flavors. The pumpkin must have been steamed for it was obviously not raw but still had a lively crunch to it. The last special I couldn’t resist was a selection of baby octopus served with fingerling potatoes and fresh garbazo beans. So often the heads of the baby octopus are removed and here they were still part of the presentation. So tender and rich, it killed me that I wasn’t at the restaurant with four people as I certainly wanted to taste more of the impressive menu, but was far too full to continue by myself.

The restaurant *is* small and rather loud. The service can lag a bit but I didn’t mind; it is obvious they are busy and they certainly are not slacking in their attempt to serve quickly. There were only two servers and while an extra pair of hands might have made things a bit faster, it also would have made the small space that much more crowded. I say go early and be patient. I would also suggest a party of three or four to get that many more tastes. They were slicing jambon I would have loved to have tasted and I watched them grilling some stunning large shrimp which smelled amazing. Very fresh ingredients and extremely well-prepared — moreso than any tapas restaurant I have been to in recent memory.

This report is several months old and the following meal was enjoyed in June, during my last trip to Los Angeles, accompanied by the delightful Mr. Richard and the beautiful Lisa. I won’t comment on the surroundings or décor; suffice to say the artist in me was thrilled with all the eye candy. It is not an understated, demure room by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I would hazard to guess it could have been designed by Jeff Koons, if Jeff Koons did such things.

Sweet potato chips with Greek yogurt foam with star anise and tamarind. Delightful concoction of crisp, light chips (so much better than the bagged version, which I adore). The hint of tamarind and star anise enhanced the creamy yogurt. I think we were cleaning the bowl with our fingers…

Traditional olives with Piquillo peppers. Served in a can, these were to tease us for what was to come, the MG’d liquefied version. Traditional and piquant, a perfect amuse.

Liquified olives. The liquefied olives were the Molecular Gastronomic version of the traditional olive. Served in a mason jar, a waiter deftly and carefully served them in utensils similar to Japanese soup spoons so they could be consumed in one bite, letting the vinegared goodness squirt gleefully in our mouths. Bright, enticing, and very adventurous.

Caprese salad. How does one make a simple caprese salad better? For starters, making the globular bites of cheese and cherry tomatoes exactly the same size. Second, peel the perfectly ripe tomatoes. Third, use the very best olive oil, freshest basil, and enhance with blanched garlic. This offering was quite simply, the very best caprese salad I have ever experienced, with each ingredient speaking its own language, yet complementing its partner.

Guacamole with jicama and fritos and cilantro. In this dish, the jicama was sliced paper thin to act like an Asian wonton wrapper, encasing the guacamole. This was one of the first dishes to be served which, while perfectly fine, seemed out of place with the other Spanish flavors. In fact, being a California native who has eaten various versions of guacamole my whole life, I found the filling rather pedestrian, although the packaging was certainly unique. It looked pretty, but did not inspire me or send me through the rapturous ceiling as the previous courses had done.

Paddlefish caviar cone. So simple and again, so very, very good. The tuille cone – which so often can be made so thick as to overwhelm that which it contains – was paper thin and showcased the ample caviar. Just enough crème fraîche and chives to balance out the saltiness of the caviar. 

Conservas – raspberry and vinaigrette with King Crab. Another tin-served course, there is a refined palate at work that knows how to marry two seemingly disparate delicacies such as raspberries and crab. Here, succulent crab with a hint of vinaigrette and edible pansies provided a cool repass from the salty caviar. This was a favorite of mine and I was very lucky to have such good friends let me eat the bulk of this course.

Papas with bacon (Canary Islands); potatoes cooked with salt water served with mojo of parsley, cilantro, and cumin. I admit it; I am not a cilantro fan and was fairly sure I wouldn’t enjoy these potatoes as they were meant to be eaten, with the mojo. And I was incredibly wrong. Somehow the pervasive soapiness that I get from cilantro was absent here and instead, I got to experience delightfully tender morsels of salted potatoes, dipped in the enticing sauce. While dusted with a fine layer of salt, these were not too salty at all.

Avocado with tuna, rolled with cornnuts and micro cilantro. Like the guacamole purses, this was a course that failed slightly for me. And I like avocados! The creamy texture of the obviously great tasting avocado was too similar in mushiness to the interior tuna concoction. It was only the addition of the house-made corn-nuts that provided some much-needed crunch, but it was not enough. I’m sorry to say that I don’t recall the sauce. All I recall was a mouth full of mush.

Nitrogen Capairinha. To hearken away from our wine, we opted for the extra charge ($30) to try the molecular gastronomic capairinha. Prepared tableside, the ingredients are combined and then nitrogen is added to create the most decadent, alcoholic slushy imaginable. Made with a premium cachaça, Sagatiba, the shared indulgence cleansed our palate and excited us for what was to come. Expensive yes. And worth every penny.

Some bread. Bread is not automatically served at Bazaar as it is in most restaurants. We had asked for it early on as there were many courses from which we wanted to sop up sauces. Having the bread arrive so late in our meal, we realized why there was a delay: They were baked to order. Brushed with and served with some of the quality olive oil, it would have been quite easy to cancel the rest of the meal and simply feast upon the crusty, delightful loaves of goodness.

Hangar steak with Piquillo peppers. Surprisingly, here is where I began to falter and Lisa stepped up to the plate. I’m normally more of a carnivore and this hunk of meat was truly astonishing, so it was surprising to me how much she went after it. Don’t get me wrong – I had my fair share – but knew there was still more to come and happy with just a few bites.

Pollo croquettes. Simple fried chicken goodness. Not too heavily breaded and not overly complicated. Simple goodness. Tender and rich. Nothing special and not very memorable, but savory and satisfying.

Piquillo peppers with goat cheese and grape reduction. Another classic dish, classically prepared. No MG bells and whistles or unusual ingredients to detract from the wholesome goodness of the bright pepper and rich, creamy goat cheese. The grape reduction added a touch of richness.

Cauliflower couscous with harissa broth. While we were not impressed with the two ventures outside the Spanish flavors towards the Mexican, but this endeavor into Moroccan flavors was considerably more successful. The tiny bits of cauliflower mimicked the classic texture and sensation of rolled couscous. The harissa broth was rich and enticing, with a delicate spice that engaged instead of overwhelmed.  With some micro-greens and raisins, I adored this dish and its delicacy and trompe l’oeil innovation.

Lamb loin, truffle gelée, forest mushrooms, and potatoes. Again, it was Lisa who is not as big of a carnivore as myself who cherished this dish. I was slightly put off by the gelée – it was a thick, gelatinous layer which had to be worked through the find the other ingredients. Once discovered, the lamb was tender and rich and worked to be a great complement to the mushrooms. The potatoes were not overwhelming in flavor and the truffle essence – which so often can permeate a dish – was balanced, but the soft creamy texture was too incongruous with the hunk-o-jello and rich meat.

Mushroom risotto, Idizabal cheese. Of all the dishes of the evening, this was the one which faltered the most. Surprisingly both soupy AND pasty, this uninspired dish showed no predominant mushroom flavor in the rice despite the lovely whole mushrooms, nor was there the necessary creaminess indicative of a great risotto. It was more of a soup and rice soup and went mostly uneaten.

Sangria. Not really a course, but we were talking with the Maître ‘D about how much we were enjoying the wine and the capairinha and he offered to give us a miniature version of their much-lauded sangria. Made with white wine, I would happily return just to sit on the veranda (okay, I don’t think they have a veranda), so sip these…

Foie “popsicle.” This was not part of the chef’s choice on the tasting but there was no way we were going to leave without tasting this famous dish (well, I had had it before, but Lisa and Rick never had). Here, a perfect cube of cold foie gras terrine is encased in spun sugar and dusted with hazelnut bits. Best consumed all at once, the mouth is rewarded with creamy, decadent foie, a hint of sugar which disappears quickly once consumed, and the crunchy nut bits. 

We had been sitting in the dining room for some time and it was at this point we were directed towards the lounge/shop area for dessert. It is very difficult to not become overwhelmed with the bounty in both the retail establishment and the glass-covered patisserie offerings. From the menu, we went with the waiter’s suggestion of Panna Cotta, Flan, Crème Caramel along with some coffee and tea. Regrettably, while the desserts all had a decent enough flavor, we were again confounded with such a remarkably similar texture to be rather bored. Too many soft, gooey things, although I definitely enjoyed the heavy rich caramel poured atop the flan. But looking at all of the sweets in the shop, I can’t help but think we would have been better served choosing a selection of delicacies from the store. Lisa did order a small serving of the Chocolate Pop-Rocks, which proved quite fun and confirmed our belief; better stuff a la carte…

Even taking several months to getting around to writing this, it has proven to be one of the most memorable meals of 2009. The quality is exceptional, the service is never stuffy and we were completely charmed by waiters, bus servers, and quite pleased when the chef agreed to step out and answer some questions. I had grown weary of some of the MG attempts in Northern California (with the exception of those by Jeremy Fox at Ubuntu), but here there is enough variety and juxtaposition to make the scientific aspects of the meal more than just a novelty. It was truly a joy to behold.