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.

Despite an interesting cocktail menu, I was drawn to a three-glass Riesling sampler, what they call the Butterfly flight; Domaines Schlumberger “Les Princes Abbes” Alsace 2004, Gainey Vineyard Santa Ynes Valley 2003, and Saint M Dr. Loosen Pfaltz Germany 2005.

These went reasonably well with the two appetizers I ordered; Duck Confit Spring Rolls served with a Chinese hot mustard & honey dipping sauce and Kahlua Pig with Butter Lettuce Cups served with hoisin sauce and toasted cashews with green onions.

For Asian-inspired bar food, the spring rolls were quite good – very light, crispy wrappers, perfectly fried. Honestly, the meat inside could have been duck confit or pork or chicken. It really didn’t matter. The sauce was interesting in that accompanied with the rolls, there was an obvious sweetness which I thought might overwhelm upon entry, but which expanded in the mouth to a pretty decent mustard spice.

The Kahlua Pig with lettuce cups was very ample and between the two dishes, far more food than one person could possibly eat. The butter lettuce was a nice change from the classic head lettuce used in lettuce cup offerings. The pork was riddled with a fine dice of assorted bell peppers; orange, yellow, and red. both the pork and the hoisin was topped with toasted cashews which were so finely chopped as to actually look like finely grated cheese or Brazilian yucca powder.

Not bad for an afternoon interpose because I stumbled on it, but hardly a destination restaurant for me. Mostly mediocre and unmemorable.

The occasion of Lisa’s birthday was the reason for heading to my now-favorite San Francisco restaurant, Nombe.

Hakuro Suishu – Junmai Ginjo (winter water). A very, very smooth sake.

First course – Suimono; a salad sashimi-based salad with amazingly fresh and vibrant vegetables. Fresh, raw trout sat atop purslane, tofu, arugula, sea beans, chanterelles, squash blossoms, fresh pickled ginger, spinach, sunomono, radish, and a very light seafood broth. It would have been a perfect dinner for two and a more-than-ample meal for one. The chanterelle mushrooms were tender and provided a rich texture against the clean, brightness of the vegetables. The trout — which I thought was salmon based on the color — was rich with an ample amount of marbling to give enough fat to the entire dish to balance out all the healthy goodness in the vegetables.

Kubota Maju – Dai Ginjo. Luxuriously super clean and flowery sake. This was offered as an intercourse as Gil had a few sips left from a tasting a few days prior. He admitted this was the Cadillac of sakes and usually too expensive for most. A lovely gesture that it was comped for Lisa’s birthday.

Tengumai Jikomi – Yamahai Junmai. A richer, more lingering sake to accompany the rest of the meal.

Hano Okazu – So many dishes at once. Served in small, 3″ plates, following our glorious salad came a veritable Japanese smörgåsbord:

• Wagyu Beef ~ Ever so lightly grilled as to preserve the integrity of the marbling. Served with sliced scallions and shredded daikon, this tender offering proved rich and satisfying.
• Squash ~ Fresh yellow squash and zucchini were very thinly sliced, marinated in a light rice wine vinegar and served with fresh greens.
• Bitter Melon ~ Contrasting flavors to all the other vegetables, here chunked bitter melon is served alongside caramelized onions which gave a level of tender sweetness to the crunchy melon.
• Chicken Livers ~ Chicken livers are coated with a sesame-studded spicy breading that was just slightly hot enough to entice without being overpowering. Served with fresh cilantro, I pushed those greens aside but Lisa enjoyed that element. I was just happy with the crunch of the exterior which yielded to the tender interior.
• Chicken Gizzard ~ Yet another slightly spicy offering, the gizzards are marinated with bits of red pepper and white and black sesame seeds. Perfectly chewy (the way a gizzard should) with a tangy bite to counter-balance the spice and crunch of the livers.
• Pickles ~ Chef Nick makes his own pickles and these are not to be missed. Not just a palate cleanser, these become an integral part of the meal.
• Minnow ~ Little miniature fish, deep fried and tossed with diced peppers and a chili paste, I was anticipating a mouth-burner, but they were not too hot at all. Lisa particularly enjoyed these little morsels.
• Kimchee ~ Probably one of the hottest offerings, I had to relegate most of this dish to Lisa who has a higher tolerance than I do. I tried a portion and preferred the remnants of the flavors which existed on the sliced zucchini pickles.
• Pig’s Ears ~ Hidden under wafer thin radish slices were ribbons of sliced pig ear. Hands-down the favored dish of the evening, neither Lisa nor I had ever tasted such a uniquely tender preparation. Usually it is the consistency of hard, chewy rubber bands, we were both astonished at how flavorful the thinly sliced ears were but also how delightfully tender.
• Seaweed Salad ~ I purchase a very similar concoction to this at Nijiya market, but what comes pre-made in plastic containers in a grocery store is not nearly as savory and flavorful as this. Uniform slices of seaweed, carrot, and daikon is all lightly dressed and garnished with white and black sesame seeds.
• Eggplant ~  Hidden under bonito flakes and scallion were freshly roasted, seasoned eggplant. This was a favored dish of mine as the saltiness from the bonito countered the sweetness in the eggplant.
• Rice with Fresh Nori ~ My consistent favorite that I usually always save for breakfast.

All of these tiny plates surrounded a giant platter of pork shoulder from Llano Seco Farms. Here the pork is presented as both succulent slabs with heavy rivers of fat to be negotiated in its consumption, but also golden fried chicharrons (fried pork rinds). Served with a rich dark sauce and creamy mayonnaise, we topped the meat with a bit of lime juice. Seared to give just enough to give a dark, rich crust, the interior was tender and moist and while a little difficult to eat with chopsticks, ripping the luscious meat with our teeth was primal and satisfying.

Dessert courses finished out this more-than-ample meal. The waitress behind the counter started opening a half-bottle of pink sake and we were both intrigued. I’m sorry I didn’t get its name, but a few moments later, Chef Nick arrived with a small clay dish of house-made Ume and Coconut sorbet and proceeded to pour the sweet sake over the frozen delight. Almost a palate-cleanser this easily could have happily finished the meal for us, but there was more. Bedecked with birthday candle was a mochi cake and knowing what a Fried Dough Ho I am, a smaller serving of his infamous Seagull Eggs with strawberry jam. The mochi cake gave that classic chewy texture with hints of sweetness and a bit of creamy topping. I love the beignets that Chef Nick produces but believe they are better when made larger and stay fluffier; the smaller versions get a bit tough but are still well-loved by yours’ truly.

Six weeks ago, I got a text message from Lisa stating simply, “Just found us a new restaurant!!!!!!” That means a lot because both Lisa and I have become bored dining around San Francisco. She was excited at having found an establishment that is like those she discovered while traveling around Japan; authentic, intimate, and unlike anything else we have here in the Bay Area. There is a sign in the front window that warns the philistines: No Sushi. No Combination Plates. This is not your standard, Westernized Japanese restaurant. With an expansive ten-page menu, this is a restaurant based on the concept of lots of small plates. Not like an izakaya with a bar setting, the dark wood room is effectively serviced by attentive waiters and waitresses who are quick to offer suggestions.

The reason behind the lengthy menu is its layout; each ingredient with the descriptions of how that ingredient is prepared. For example, Gindara (black cod) has eight preparations: sakamushi (steamed with sake), oroshi-ni (simmered with grated daikon), teriyaki, yuan-grilled (soy sauce and sake marinade), sakekasu-grilled (sake less marinade), butter grilled, and panko-fried. With ingredients like eel, pork, duck, beef, chicken, shrimp, eggplant, tofu, krab, flounder, etc., it is easy to see why the menu is so extensive. And that does not include the fact that there is also shabu-shabu and sukiyaki offerings (with Wagyu beef for $80!). That’s okay, we’ll be back for those because there is so much to try…

With the help of our waitress, we managed to pick a selection of tastes, starting with a special that evening, toro sashimi served with fresh wasabi. More than just exceptional fish, the plating and offering was a cut above with shredded daikon and an interesting micro green served alongside the wasabi. Some of the best, melt-in-the-mouth tuna I have tasted. Being an uni fanatic, the preparation that Lisa wanted was served in a bowl with crab, an agar sheet, shredded vegetables, sliced chestnuts, and more than we could determine. It was clean and engaging with more gelatinous goo added for texture.

Another texturally-challenging dish (for those who have problems with gooey things — which Lisa and I don’t), was Mekabu-Su, vinegared sticky wakame (seaweed) topped with a raw quail egg. Served in a small, celadon green lotus bowl, here was a mouthful of viscous goodness. A dish we probably would not have considered had our waitress not been so passionate about suggesting was the butter-grilled scallops; four large, tender scallops in nothing other than simple brown butter. But the preparation was enhanced by its offering on top of a selection of grilled vegetables; sprouts and greens which were a delightful juxtaposition to the intensely rich scallops.

Another surprise was an offering of grilled oysters with egg yolk. It was actually a fresh grilled oyster encased in an omelet-like preparation, topped with toasted pine nuts and a sliced, crisp lotus root. We had debated ordering the chawan-mushi and was glad we didn’t; this was more than enough rich egg flavor which was definitely enhanced by the pine nuts. Best of all, they were very careful to not lose any of the oyster liquor in the preparation.

We finished our meal with their preparation of Japanese sweets, wagashi, three small offerings of delight; two red-bean based. The square wagashi was topped with lightly toasted rice bits and stuffed with a chestnut. The round, azuki-based wagashi was topped with a square of gold leaf and stronger than the square version. The last, round delight was an anmitsu, a chilled gelatin with fruit; large, golden raisins, orange peel, and a surprisingly different hint of celery which provided that surprise flavor.

Much of the joy of this type of dining is a sensation that many Westerners seem to miss: TEXTURE. There are complaints about some dishes not having enough TASTE when the cultural bias in Japanese food is often about the feel versus a strong flavor. That is not to say that there is no flavor to the courses, but that many times the dish is not about presenting a strong component of tastes, but a strong component of texture. And if you are willing to experiment and enjoy all that is offered, I can guarantee a stupendous experience. Personally, with a menu as expansive as Kappou Gomi is offering, I am anxious to go back and work my way through all of it.

My old friends are well-seasoned in the ritual of my annual Cassoulet. The ritual is simple; once a year, the duck fat flowing in my veins runs thin and like a fine automobile requiring its regularly scheduled quarts of oil, my body begins its craving for this unctuously rich dish, redolent with duck confit, over three pounds of pork products, duck fat, and Tarbais beans. I have written in the past how I came about using my favorite recipe, Paula Wolfert‘s Toulouse-Style Cassoulet. It takes three days to make. It is a labor of love. I have to order specialty ingredients from a local importer, Joie de Vivre. I soak my beans and season my pork. A ragout is made a day in advance and the beans and duck and pork products are layered in the specially-designed bowl by Clay Coyote and baked for several hours.

Fearing my guests won’t have enough to eat, I supplement the evening’s offering with cheese and wine, crudité and charcouterie, stuffed mushroom caps and goat-cheese filled endive studded with port wine- and spice-soaked dried figs and candied pecans, an Alsatian onion tart and caviar. There were desserts and friends. Yes, the evening is truly all about the warmth of sharing the goodness of the richness of great food with the richness of true friendship.

I have truly fabulous friends. They brought the wine; some bubbly to start the evening with, a Moet Chandon Champagne. But then the magic: Without being told it was traditional, every one who brought a bottle, contributed that special juice which is traditional with cassoulet, a California Pinot Noir or a French Burgundy (they are the same grape, after all). From California, we reveled in an ’07 La Crema from Sonoma, an ’06 Domaine Alfred Chamisal Vineyard from Edna Valley, an ’03 Marimar Estate Don Miguel Vineyard from the Russian River Valley, and a very special ’98 Olivet Lane Estate, also from the Russian River Valley. That ’98 Olivet was a close companion with the French ’95 Blagny La Piece sous le Bois.

There has been requests for a second bowl this very cold, wintery season. The fact that San Francisco is experiencing unseasonably cold weather might demand an encore; several friends have considered chipping in for the ingredients, only to divide up the portions for T.V. dinners (it freezes VERY well and I have been known to go through the effort of a second production just for the left-over factor). I was to create a second go-around. In making the ragout for the cassoulet, I was left with a quart or so of the seasoned broth. Not wanting any of it to go to waste, I seared up a few Italian sausages, sautéed some mirepoix with pancetta, and recooked the broth with some Rancho Gordo Yellow Indian Woman Beans. Heartier than the creamy Tarbais beans, the second version of the cassoulet was in some ways, more satisfying than the first — but maybe because I got to relish these leftovers over a few days in the quiet of the apartment without all the pageantry. Just a good friend stopping by for lunch, a mug of eggnot latté, and the cat who knows he gets to lick the bowl when I’m done.