The Burden of Critique – Benu – San Francisco

A dispiriting requirement for any food critic is the responsibility to write critical notices of restaurants that shoulda, coulda been better. Even with a looming deadline, these are painful to write. For those of us without deadlines perhaps another week might make things easier. Few critics enjoy a sad review. Our task is something other than writerly sadism.

Very few restaurants are actively, in-your-face bad, and we need to treasure those. Often the failure is embodied in a few errors and fewer astonishments. When one writes about a restaurant based on a single evening, there must be much room for excuse.

I pen this in prologue to my dinner at Benu, a restaurant that has received genuine and enthusiastic praise from many in the Bay Area. Chef Corey Lee decamped from The French Laundry, and set up shop in the spritely, developing area South of Market. His goal, it has been claimed, to produce food of Kellerian perfection but with an Asian sensibility. Benu is sometimes called “The Chinese Laundry.”

I give Chef Lee high marks for intention (and for congeniality), but, based on one meal, not fully on execution. Neither the service nor the dishes were marked by perfection. I generally give the service a pass when it is good-natured, but this night there were enough minor errors of service and of molasses timing that made us realize that we were not in Napa. Thanks to my dining companions, the seven hours passed quickly. Many the dishes were thoughtful, but slippages dominate my memory. Chef Lee is a gifted Imperfectionist.

But I begin with one stunningly grand dish from a fifteen-course tasting menu. A dish from the blessed past: a tribute to Chrono-Cuisine. We ordered as a special addition to the tasting menu, Poularde Cuit en Vessie, the classic French preparation of Chicken poached in a Pig’s Bladder. What is not to adore? I found Chef Lee’s Breast, Celery, Black Trumpets, Green Almonds, and Dates to be splendid. While my dining companions found the dish over-celeried, I fully embraced the modesty of the celery, and treasured the celery glaze that covered the chicken. No thin sauces please. What was so special was how simple it seemed, even while being a fully complex dish. The green almonds and dates added their special sour, nutty, sweetness to the plate. It was among the greatest dishes that I have had in 2011, and I only wish that every dish that Chef Lee prepared had this power and vision. But alas.





When one orders Vessie, the bird does double-duty. A second course was poularde leg with peas and spring onion bulb and a shrimp roe sauce. And once again the chicken was as moist and flavorful as heaven, but here the accompaniments were off. The shrimp roe sauce overpowered the bird, even though the English peas and onion were congenial. It was an effectively composed dish, a work of art in a black bowl, but missed greatness. Still, we were all gratified to be able to treasure such a wonderful chick, and through the interactive ability to shuffle my plate, I could minimize the sauce, while voiding the chef’s salty vision.



Our meal opened with Thousand Year Old Quail Egg, Ginger, Potage and a Ginger-Almond Foam. Lee’s dishes often read as braver than they taste. I loved the Ginger-Almond Foam, and the textures were sublime, but the dish lacked the kick than I expected from an egg of such antiquity. It launched the meal, but was not the glorious blowout of Tom Keller’s pearls.



This starter was followed by an amusingly light dish of Caviar and Bone Marrow with a Lobster Crisp. Imagine a lobster pork rind. It was a two-bite wonder. Chips ahoy. We were having fun.



While my companions slurped a stunning homemade tofu, abalone, chrysanthemum soup, I was served sautéed abalone Grenobloise – floured and served with lemon and capers. I suspect that Chef Lee lacked a second stunning abalone dish in his quiver. This was a sturdy, if somewhat unremarkable, presentation. I was less enthused with my plate than my companions were with their bowls.



I soon returned to the main road: oyster, cabbage, pork belly, and fermented Korean pepper (gojuchang) gelee. On this small plate the gelee was the star. But we agreed that the balance was off. Not enough cabbage to contain the pork and oyster: here was Atkins Cuisine. Everything that the gelee touched was rosy, but such a tiny dish seemed heavy.



The next dish altered my perceptions. We were served a pair of lovely-looking Xiao long bao (Chinese dumplings): one filled with foie gras, the second with shrimp and black truffle: A-list ingredients. But how could dumplings go so wrong. Gummy and starchy and not entirely cooked: if this is an indication, Benu needs a Chinese grandma at the stove. Perhaps this Saturday was the opening night for a newbie stage, but these lumps didn’t come close. With a perfect dinner, one error reminds us how perfect the dinner is, but that wasn’t the case at Benu. The inners were silky smooth, but Silk and Gum lacks the cachet of Oysters and Pearls. Fortunately no other dish was so down-and-dirty.



There followed a small plate of unagi (freshwater eel), crème fraiche, lime and a small stick of feuille de brick (phyllo). For a small serving it was a pleasant interlude, but the lime and unagi could have been more pronounced.



Lucky seven. Our seventh dish was a star turn, a subtle and savory classic: monkfish liver torchon, turnip, cucumber, salted plum, and a small slice of toasted brioche. Here was a dish worthy of calling Benu “The Asian Tiffany.” In its simple complexity, its confident play of flavors, and its willingness to combine musky liver, picked turnip, salty plum in an elegant presentation it revealed Chef Lee’s genius. I would love a reprise.



White sausage, black bread, and XO sauce seems so modest, and in some way the presentation was. The fish sausage was rather spongy, lacking subtle notes, and, as my dining companion pointed out, the house-made XO sauce lacked the textural complexity of the store-bought version: only in America. I objected to the velvet sheen of the sauce less than an expert XO taster, but aside from the impressive crispy squid ink wafer, I found the dish rather pedestrian in composition and flavor.



Finally Shark Fin Soup, or perhaps more prudently “Shark Fin” Soup. Fee Fie Faux Fumble. The soup was subtle, filled with delicious crab and rich truffle, which surely would have been sufficient without a Mad Man’s claim of shark’s fin. Perhaps the chewy consistency recapitulated shark fin, but why make the claim if you cannot carry it through.



After two courses of Poularde Cuit en Vessie, we were solidly landed on land protein. We were served a loin of lamb stuffed with lamb mousse and fennel-scented lamb sausage. While the asparagus was as fresh as spring, the remainder of the dish, properly cooked in a bountiful broth, was somewhat old. The protein never sang. It was technically satisfying, but not a dish of any particular achievement.



I am a sucker for lily bulbs, and so sprinkling lily buds on ketchup or Twinkies satisfies me. This beef braised in pear, lily bulb, celery, and shiitake was a far superior dish to the previous lamb. The celery proved a nice reprise of the Poularde breast. Here was a cut of cow that sparkled, and was one of the strongest creations of the evening. Pear and celery might seem in conflict, but the fruity, herbal mixture was a pleasure.



Then followed two desserts. Neither was really remarkable. Fennel sorbet with rhubarb, sesame, and meringue was saved from catastrophe by the wondrous fennel sorbet, an ice of genius, but the other contributions were textually challenged. Too gooey for an adult palate.



Banana ice cream, burnt acorn (custard, praline, and bread pudding), ginger gelee and foam was a typical modernist dessert: a bit of this, a bit of that, lacking a center: the kitchen sink approach. It was not a failure, but nothing really sang, and I learned that burnt acorn will not make my Baskin-Robbins list of 31. It was a brave effort, but an effort nonetheless.



And so the meal ended. The greatest problem with Benu is its buzz. Corey Lee does show moments of genius and of gastronomic power, but his menu has not fully developed and his cooking is not always assured. To compare this meal, filled with deadends and with inspiration to the French Laundry is to do this young chef a disservice. The poularde was memorable – and Chef Lee is to be commended for his attempt to retrieve and reconstruct the greatest culinary triumphs of the past. The monkfish torchon was astonishing, and the beef and lily bulbs inspiring. But these were matched my dishes that were bland, doughy, or gooey. Critics often end their remarks suggesting that they will or will not return. In my case, let time be my judge. Benu may become the Chinese Laundry, but tonight it was just too close to dry cleaning.

Benu
22 Hawthorne Street
San Francisco CA 94105
415-685-4860
http://www.benusf.com

San Fran Hip - Flour + Water

As I think of my year in the Bay Area, I have discovered that San Francisco restaurants are adept at producing stylish, creative cuisine at prices that 20-somethings can afford. Yes, there are some extravagant restaurants and, frankly, some rotten ones, but SF has a mid-budget culinary swagger that few cities can match. Perhaps this is a function of the fact that SF is a youthful, vibrant city and a city where people dine out: seven meals at $150/per is more Silicon Valley than Noe Valley.

Several restaurants might be named as fitting this category: Delfina, Zuni Café, among others. But as I managed to snare a rare reservation at Flour + Water, a sophisticated modern Italian restaurant in the Mission District - a restaurant that is Pizza-plus – F+W is my text. Flour + Water charges $17 for pasta, $16 for pizza, and $21-24 for their secondi. The restaurant is well-priced and always filled. It is the Eternal Seating.



My companion and I ordered a pair of antipasti, two pasta, and a secondi, and were, in general, quite impressed: three of the five were distinguished. Pork belly with broccoli salsa gribiche, asparagus, sofritto, and fresh coriander was marred by a small and overly crispy pork belly. It was pretty, but not truly delicious. In contrast, the halibut crudo with strawberries, favas, and fennel blossoms was a cool tribute to spring. The fish was sweet and the accompaniments added layers of textures. The tasting notes were just right.





The path of pasta diverged. One was fabulous, the other sounded fabulous when read on the menu. Less successful (and not a choice that our server recommended when asked for pasta advice) was Aleppo Spaghetti with Ink Braised Squid, Mint and Chili Oil. Aleppo is a mild Syrian pepper. While the pasta was properly cooked, the plate with its black and brown tones was not inspiring and the flavors, presumably intended, seemed a bit off. Mint and chili did not match well. Braised squid was not as pleasing as the grilled version.



In contrast, the Taleggio Scarpinocc with Rosemary and Aceto Balsamico (which our server enthusiastically admired) was stunning in its simplicity. These oddly shaped raviolis (shaped like wooden shoes) were luscious, and were as fine a filled pasta as any I have had for months. The cheese was astonishingly tangy.



The secondi – slow cooked cod with artichokes, spring onion, asparagus, pounded herbs, and fennel – was lovingly prepared, elegantly presented, and carefree. If it was not as savory as some main courses, its subtlety carried the night. The lightness of the fish made it float away.



With Flour + Water only a few blocks from Humphrey Slocombe Ice Cream, a post-modern ice-creamery (Brown Butter Ice Cream and Malted Dulce de Leche), we didn’t test the F+W desserts.

We left F + W with wallets only slightly lightened and hearts greatly so.

Flour + Water
2401 Harrison Street
San Francisco, CA 94110
415-826-7000
http://www.flourandwater.com

Out of the Way – Pacific’s Edge – Carmel, California

Some restaurants are so fortuitously sited that the wisest thing that a chef can do is to stand out of the way, not blocking the diner’s line of sight. This is the challenge of Chef Matt Bolton at Pacific’s Edge.

The Pacific’s Edge restaurant, located in the Hyatt Highlands Resort in Carmel-by-the-Sea, has an astonishing view. It was named as one of the ten best restaurants with a view by USA Today in 2006. The award is deserved. Looking out over, yes, the Pacific, the restaurant remind us just how fortunately those living on the coasts can be, and with its high perch even a tsunami would not diminish the romance of dining. All tables have a view of the Pacific, but some are nestled up against the windows, awarded on a first-come/first-served basis. We were grateful to have been informed of this policy, allowing us to snag a 6:00 p.m. reservation and a window view. The sunset was not as glorious as some, but was superb none-the-less.





Pacific’s Edge serves well-prepared, if somewhat conventional, modern cuisine. A four-course “tasting menu” ($99/person) is not overly adventurous, but is quite successful, never failing to please.

We began with an Asparagus Vichyssoise with a luscious Truffle Pecorino Grilled Cheese petit-four, crispy spring onions, and prosciutto de parma. While the soup was delightful, the two-bite sandwich was ideal.



The Wild King Salmon with Olive Oil Poached Artichoke, Oven Roasted Tomato, and Chanterelle was a pleasant, properly cooked piece of fish, if a bit minimalist.



Our main course was a well-conceived, evocative Pan-Seared Breast of Sonoma Duck with a five-spice pastilla (fried duck confit basket), English Peas and Shoots, and Duck Jus. The pastilla was unfortunately greasy, but the rest of the dish was sturdy and warmly evocative of a California April.



Dessert was a Meyer Lemon Semolina Cake with Pine Nut Sable and a sparkling Raspberry-Rosemary Sorbet. While this was not an elaborate creation, it was creatively presented and flawless.



It is perhaps unfair to note that the food at Pacific’s Edge is not among California’s best. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that the evening isn’t as pleasing as any. Pacific’s Edge is a restaurant to see and to sea.

Pacific’s Edge
Hyatt Highlands Inn
120 Highlands Drive
Carmel, California
831-622-5445
http://www.pacificsedge.com/

Crab Crab Crab Duck – Yum’s Bistro – Fremont, California

Few things can be more depressing for an ecstatic lover of ecstatic food that to dine at a Chinese restaurant alone. So many possibilities, so little to share. From a list of hundreds of dishes, the lone diner plays the lottery.

Without a large network, I have been Chinese-cuisine-deprived during my year in the Bay Area. But not entirely. On a quiet Tuesday an email popped into my inbox announcing a “chowdown,” sponsored by the San Francisco branch of Chowhound. In contrast to the LTH community in Chicago, these invitations are rare and rather select: twelve diners sitting around a table. It is a tough reservation to snag. And so I jumped at the invitation.

One of the favored restaurants of the Bay Area foodie community is Yum’s Bistro, located in a suburban shopping mall in Fremont (in the East Bay, across the Dumbarton Bridge from Palo Alto). The diners of SF Chowhound had previously held their New Year’s Feast at Yum’s, a restaurant that is Cantonese, broadly speaking. The chef had previously cooked in the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Hong Kong and in large Chinese restaurants in San Francisco, but had retired. But retirement is not all that it is cracked up to be, and he decided to open a modest “bistro” in Fremont (although the Chinese meaning of bistro is somewhat obscure). The menu advertises their “exquisite crab dishes.” April is edging towards the end of Dungeness crab season on the West Coast, and my colleagues speculated that the sweet crab was from Washington State or beyond, but none the worse for its travel.

The organizer of the event is the estimable Melanie Wong, San Francisco’s answer to Cathy2, and she has been involved in the local chow community for so long that she recalled the breakup of LTH and Chowhound, casually referring to our Chicagoland rebels as “the Boys” (sorry, Cathy, I am just the reporter). As usual the group that gathered was congenial and bright. Aside from the fact that these gatherings are rarer in the Bay Area than in Chicagoland, what struck me most was a greater seriousness of attention to wine culture. Perhaps a dozen bottles of local and international wines were opened, and diners brought their own glasses (like chefs and their knives; the restaurant doesn’t supply wine glasses). The whole evening was good fun.



We began with a very flavorful soup, ordered special: watercress, dried scallops, and duck gizzards in a rich liquid. I was particularly impressed with the savory broth. It was supple and subtle, poultry and seafood, as sterling as a French bistro consommé.





Now followed our three Dungeness crab dishes, served in sequence, each competing for attention:

Soy sauce and garlic crab (a special preparation for our group).



Hunan crab served in a Clay Pot with hot peppers



Jakarta Chili Crab with curry and coconut milk.



I admired them all. The spice was not excessively intense, but still I preferred the Garlic Crab and the Jakarta Crab for the symphony of flavors. Although one thinks of crab as having a delicate flavor, certainly true, it does stand up impressively to spice. Crab and chili can be a beautiful marriage.

The trio of crab was followed by another specially prepared dish. Stuffed duck, fried and braised, with ham, barley, and nuts. The quality of the duck was not impressive, and the accompaniments didn’t sing either. Despite the impressive presentation, it is not a dish I plan to try again.



Shifting to the end of the night, we were served Ong Choi, hollowed hearted Chinese greens, sautéed with garlic. It is a green and bright change from protein. Our noodle dish, another special, was Longlife noodles with abalone and mushrooms (one twirls the noodles uncut or one’s life is shortened). The noodles were perfectly chewy and the abalone sauce was delicious.





Desserts included peach buns (a roll filled with sweet bean curd) and a tapioca soup. The peach buns were witty and sweet. The tapioca soup was properly made but overly thick for the end of an evening.





I was grateful to meet new friends and to learn that culinary friendship is not (quite) a Chicago monopoly.

Yum’s Bistro
4906 Paseo Padre Parkway
Fremont, CA 94555 (closed Tuesdays)
510-745-8866
http://www.crusa.biz/yum

Delfina, Delfina – San Francisco

Some restaurants, modest though they seem, are just about perfect. Their humility hides their brio. In San Francisco I can think of no better example than Delfina, a lovely, sunny, airy Italianate restaurant set in the somewhat scruffy Mission District. There is little showy about the space, although it is pleasing and airy, but the plates are modestly priced show-stoppers.

I ordered Warm Ceringola Olives, meaty, green nuggets swimming in rustic olive oil, served with warm crusty bread (perhaps baked by the iconic Tartine Bakery next door?). Tonight San Francisco revealed its Mediterranean climate which these olives matched degree for degree.



The olives were followed by a creamy cauliflower soup with paprika oil drizzled on top and cumin-scented croutons. The soup was redolent of flowerets, but needed the kick that the paprika and cumin provided. It was an exceptionally pretty bowl.



Delfina’s Hay and Straw Tagliarini with English Peas, Pecorino, Raw Egg Yolk, and a touch of Pancetta (or its moral equivalent) was as lush as one might imagine a spring plate could be. The green and white pasta was nettles and spinach (?). The richness of the cheese, cream, and egg played perfectly with the peas, creating a modernist carbonara.



They also serve a superior Blood Orange Prosecco.

All in all, a splendid moderately priced spring meal. Bravo.

Delfina
3621 18th St
San Francisco, California 94110
(415) 552-4055
http://www.delfinasf.com