Komi Restaurant

I had been dying to eat at Komi ever since Ruth Reichl named it as her most recent "wow" dining experience. She recounted a Cromesquis of Caesar Salad she had, a small breaded and fried square containing the elements of a Caesar salad that burst in a flood of creaminess and a slight crunch of lettuce.

When we found ourselves in DC, we asked friends and locals where we should eat, and Komi was at the top of every list we received. Chef/owner Johnny Monis has created something great here, a premier dining destination for food lovers that is refined and playful at the same time. There is no printed menu at Komi, and photos of the food are not allowed (to maintain the element of surprise for future diners). After I got over the distress of not being able to take pictures of my food, it was all quite liberating.

The dishes change from day to day, depending on what is in season, or what Monis feels like making for you. For the set price of $135, you can expect a flurry of Mediterranean/Greek-inspired small tastings that start with light, fresh crudo and build up to heartier flavors, pastas, and a family-style meat entrée, followed by a cheese course and desserts. There is also an optional wine pairing for $70 that they allow you to split, which is nice.

The restaurant is built in a Dupont Circle rowhouse, so the dining room is small and the décor is pretty sparse (simple white tablecloths, warm yellow walls and a few candlelit sconces). I can only imagine the buzz about the place when the Obamas had their date night here last year.

The overall vibe of the place is pretty laid back and comfortable. Our servers were friendly, super knowledgeable, and enthusiastically chatted with us about the food when we engaged them with questions.

The key to the house cellar

Now is right about when I happily packed away the camera and settled in for my taste buds to be delighted over the next 3 hours. Here's what we had:

TARAMOSALATA
The first amuse bouche was a doll-sized steamed brioche, topped with a dollop of Greek yogurt and fire orange trout roe that burst delicately on my tongue.

SEA URCHIN
Next came a thin slice of Hiramasa New Zealand kingfish sashimi topped with Alaskan sea urchin. Fresh and appetite inducing.

SCALLOP
Scallop crudo two ways. A thin disk of scallop sashimi arrived, laid inside a large pearly white shell the size of my hand, garnished with a slice of rhubarb and a sprinkle of lemon salt. Next to it was a spoonful of scallop tartar, diced into a fine brunoise, combined with thick coconut milk mixed with caramelized coconut. A tiny purple chive blossom graced the top of the mound. I loved the luxurious texture, slippery and rich, perfumed with coconut and finished with an herbaceous oniony punch.

SALMON
This bite reminded me of a perfect salmon bialy. A slice of house-cured Scottish salmon on top of black squid ink toast, garnished with tatsoi microgreens and red-veined sorrel leaf. A little bit sweet, a little bit crunchy…a lovely bite.

ASPARAGUS
Burrata was served with asparagus so lightly grilled it was almost still raw. The fresh crunch of it played well with the cool, creamy cheese, and a sprinkle of garlicky, lemony breadcrumbs on top added a nice dimension to the dish.

SPANAKOPITA
Ah-ha! The dish that wooed Ruth Reichl! Although a different version (she had a "Caesar salad" cube, we got a "spanakopita" cube), the concept was the same. Our server came, bearing two small deep-fried, breaded cubes. We were instructed to eat it in one bite. As I bit into it, a warm gush of emulsified spinach and feta cream flooded my mouth. What a stunner. One little square, full of spinach-feta-yogurt-dill-ness, crafted just so, poised and ready to explode in your mouth. What kind of voodoo is Monis working back there, hmm?

EGG
Our first pasta dish was a beautiful, perfectly round raviolo filled with a runny yolk inside. Smoked tuna shavings (like bonito) danced on top, the residual heat making it eerily wave back and forth over the butter sauce and accompanying ramps.

HALF SMOKE
One of Komi's signature dishes in which they pay homage to a DC staple -- the half-smoke. Similar to a hot dog, but meatier and spicier, the half-smoke is traditionally made with half pork, half beef. Komi's version is all pork, and is cut to the size of about a quarter of a dog, so I guess technically it's a quarter-smoke. It is butterflied, nestled into a buttered, grilled bun, and topped with tomato jam and an Old Bay-dusted chicharrone. You really can't enjoy a hot dog without a beer, so the kind folks at Komi serve this bite with a glass of Hitachino Nest Ale.

FOIE GRAS
From hot dogs to foie gras, next up was a house-cured and smoked foie gras terrine. Pink, buttery, and smooth as silk, it was served over sautéed mushrooms, slices of kumquat and peashoots.

DATES
A little intermezzo before we moved onto the heftier courses, we had a sweet taste of roasted dates filled with mascarpone cheese, generously dusted with coarse sea salt, and drizzled with olive oil.

GNOCCHI
Yukon gold potato gnocchi in sea urchin butter sauce –- I had heard whisperings of this divine dish and had my fingers crossed that it would grace our table this evening. Apparently it had been off the menu for awhile, but lucky for us, the dish has been brought back! The uni butter was as heavenly as I had imagined, and infused the gnocchi with a rich sweetness of the sea. A confetti of chives decorated the dish, and a little bit of habanero spiked the sauce, bringing a soft glow to the back of my throat.

TAGLIATELLE
A small tangled nest of house-made tagliatelle came next, served with salt cod, thin shavings of flash-fried nutty caper berries, tiny currants, and pine nuts in a tomato sauce -- sweet, salty, tangy...so good!! The crispy disks of caper berry added some briny crisp to the mix, and the sauce had a pleasant vinegary twang to it. A touch of chili here also piggybacked well off the lingering glow of the habanero in the prior dish.

KATSIKAKI
The pièce de résistance of the meal was the Katsikaki -- a massive serving of an entire bone-in leg of baby goat, slow roasted for four hours. We were blown away by the depth of flavor and range of texture in this hunk of lovin'. The entire outer surface had a crazy crispy sear, the meat was juicy and tender as can be--the texture of pulled pork--and there was a bit of rich stickiness from what I guess was melted cartilage. I'm pretty sensitive to gamier meats, so when this came out, I was a bit apprehensive. But there was zero gaminess. Just pure awesomeness. The meat was served with homemade pita and a whole plate of condiments, creating a DIY gyro station at our fingertips! Accoutrement included preserved lemon sea salt, red onion mustard, slightly pickled Fresno peppers, homemade tzatziki, and delicate translucent slices of baby radishes.

MYZITHRA
Next came what looked like a macaron but was in fact a teeny tiny biscuit sandwich of sheep's milk myzithra cheese garnished with candied fennel. The curd comes from a local farm and the cheese is made in-house. It was the one dish of the meal I didn't care for -- the cheese was really pungent and presented a bit of a challenge for me.

OLIVE OIL
A creative take on some classic flavor pairings, our first dessert consisted of strawberry segments tossed in balsamic vinegar, topped with a quenelle of olive oil gelato, and a thin cracker-like piece of lemon shortbread that shattered at the poke of a spoon.

CHOCOLATE
And since no meal is complete without a little chocolate, our meal wound down with a square of dark chocolate ganache and salted caramel layered over a crust of peanut butter crunchies/praline. Both the chocolate and caramel were surprisingly light and melted away without the slightest effort in spite of how full I was. Alongside the chocolate-caramel square was a bit of roasted banana crowned with coconut ice cream and a sprinkle of curry.

LOLLIPOPS
Our parting gift was a pair of elderberry lollipops. A member of the honeysuckle family, elderberries have an intriguing floral-grapey flavor.

After our meal, we were invited to peek into the kitchen and shake the hand of the mastermind behind our fantastic meal. Arlington native, Johnny Monis opened Komi at the ripe age of 24. Seven years later, it's clear he has more than hit his stride, creating food that is not only impeccably executed but full of personality and a little attitude.

Johnny was kind enough to handwrite our menu for the evening as a keepsake.

Komi
1509 17th Street
(between P & Q Streets)
Washington, DC 20036
(202) 332-9200

It's no secret that the lines at Sol Food in San Rafael have been creeping down the block lately. What used to be a little hole in the wall Puerto Rican joint is now a booming, booming business. But right across the street on Lincoln Avenue is a reason to ditch that long wait for some of the best Mexican food in the Bay Area.

Living in California, you forget that not everyone has good taquerias close to home, work, school, the freeway--you name it. When you talk to people living in, say, Seattle they'll tell you that really good authentic Mexican is tough to come by. So when my sister and her boyfriend were visiting (from Seattle) last weekend and mentioned a hankering for some legitimate mole, I know we had to go to Las Camelias.

Las Camelias is the baby of chef and owner, Gabriel Fregoso who grew up in the very small town of Cuautla in western Jalisco. His mother and grandmother were big cooks, and in 1976 Gabriel came to Marin and started working at the Lark Creek Inn in Larkspur. He worked his way up to the position of cook, and a few years later opened Las Camelias using his mother and grandmother's recipes. In a county where restaurants open and shutter in the blink of an eye, thirty-two years in business is a pretty big deal. Gabriel's doing something right.

When you walk in, the first thing you'll notice is the warm, rustic atmosphere with heavy wooden chairs and tables and thoughtfully chosen artwork. The servers will set you up with a "margarita" right away (they don't have a liquor license so they're really wine margaritas). But they still make their own in-house margarita mix and it veers far from the often overly-sweet store bought variety. Try one. Trust me.

Then you must try the guacamole. I'm a bit finicky about guacamole. But at Las Camelias, they do a really simple version that has grabbed my attention: tons of avocado, a little chopped tomato, onion, and the perfect amount of cilantro and lime juice. No distracting spices. Not too salty or creamy.

Now to get down to business, I'm actually a little embarrassed to admit what I love to order at Las Camelias. It's a salad, possibly the lamest thing to order at a Mexican restaurant known for their spicy moles, incredible tamales, and slow cooked enchiladas. But this salad is a combination of many of my favorite things in the world: They start with lettuce and shredded organic chicken and throw in shredded cabbage and carrots, rice, cheese, guacamole, tortilla chips, and finish it off with a subtle sweet and sour dressing. It's pure magic, really and it's so filling that I generally bring leftovers home for lunch the next day.

Arroz Con Pollo Salad

My second favorite thing to order at Las Camelias are the Enchiladas Diablo Con Pollo. One reason I love ordering them is because the waitstaff sizes you up when you declare you'd like them. They try and measure your spice tenacity and have, on a few occasions, tried to talk me out of them. Are you sure? Very spicy, ok? And truthfully, they are certainly spicy but not unbearably so. There's a lot of layered flavors in the sauce and warm spices, but nothing that'll send you grabbing for your neighbors water glass. What I truly love about these enchiladas is how they're stuffed full of Rocky Junior chicken and spicy diablo sauce and little else. No big globs of cheese or unnecessary fillers. And Las Camelias serves most dishes with their famous white refried beans. I actually have friends that come here just for the beans.

Spicy steak fajitas: notice those white beans!

When I first started coming to Las Camelias I was a vegetarian and I was addicted to the Vegetarian Combination Platter. It comes with a huge poblano chile filled with caramelized onions and simmered in a light sour cream sauce with corn and zucchini. This is basically the perfect food on a foggy Bay Area evening. But wait. There's also the tamale with chayote and potatoes. And last, the crispy vegetarian burrito, all served with black beans and ancho chile sauce. It may be vegetarian, but it's very far from light--you get a little taste of many things they're known for and my meat-eating friends would always look on with envy.

So while Gabriel Fregoso is dealing with some tough competition across the street, I'm certain that Las Camelias is not going anywhere. The food is the real deal, the atmosphere is date-worthy while still maintaining a laid-back and comfortable vibe, and the waitstaff is gracious and attentive. Lately, visitors or no visitors, I can't get enough of the place.

My sister's boyfriend: soon to be a member of the clean-plate club

Las Camelias
912 Lincoln Avenue (between 3rd and 4th)
San Rafael, CA 94901
(415) 453-5850
Hours: M-Th 11:30am-9pm
Fri.-Sat. 11:30am-9:30pm
Sun. 3 pm-9pm

Café Claude, San Francisco

Tucked away in a hidden alley amongst financial district lunch spots, Café Claude is a delightful breath of fresh air. I half expected my feet to touch cobblestone as I made my way past the charming red trellis and climbing ivy partitioning this Parisian gem from bustling Kearny Street.

Enjoy the sunshine and dine al fresco, or sit inside in the romantic, pleasantly glowing ambiance. Either option will make for a great date. And if you order well, you will definitely ooh la la your way home.

Paté Plate: Sauternes Mousse, Rillettes du Perigord, Truffle Mousse (from left to right)

Café Claude's selection of patés makes it difficult to choose just one. You can opt to be a glutton like me and go with the Paté Plate of three, or you can be kinder to your cholesterol level (although, what's the fun in that?) and make the hard choice.

Our table's favorite was the Sauternes Mousse, creamy all-natural goose liver marinated in sauternes wine. Light and silky, the texture was ethereal, and the flavor was full-bodied and rich with a touch of sweetness.

Second favorite was the Truffle Mousse, made with all-natural petaluma chicken liver, truffles and cepes (wild mushrooms) marinated in sherry. This is a great choice for paté virgins, with less funk than the other patés made with goose and duck.

The third paté was the Rillettes du Perigord, shredded all-natural duck meat and pork meat, seasoned with duck fat and cooked confit style. Tasty, but not as luxurious of a mouthfeel as the previous two.

Escargots en Croute

For starters we had the Escargots en Croute and Coquilles Saint Jacques.

One of my first memories dining out in a fancy restaurant is of my mom ordering escargots (ewww snails are in there?!). I got over the ew factor quickly as I discovered that escargots meant pools of fragrant garlic, butter, and parsley. Added bonus, they're served in fun dishes with holes perfect for stuffing pieces of crusty French bread in and soaking up all the buttery goodness. The escargots at Café Claude came in an aromatic sauce, but no flavor could be detected from the snails themselves.

I had high hopes for the Coquilles Saint Jacques. With scallops, shrimp, mussels, parmesan, and béchamel sauce on the bill, I had wild visions of creamy seafood decadence. Sadly, my expectations fell short, this was the weak link of the meal. Next time I'll opt to start with the legendary French onion soup, or either of phenomenal sounding tartars (tuna or steak).

Ahi

The standout of the night was the seared Ahi tuna, served on a bed of onion and bacon confit, soy green peppercorn sauce, and plenty of lemon zest. Intriguing, appetizing, perfect. The tuna was cooked just right, pink and rare in the center. The well caramelized onion and smoky bacon infused the dish with a savory sweet bouquet. The green peppercorn gave a little bite and kick, and the shower of lemon zest was the crowning touch. This dish was well-balanced, creative, and executed flawlessly.

I imagine any other entrée would pale in comparison to the phenomenal Ahi, so it may be with prejudice that I judge the Lasagne harshly. In concept it sounded like a lovely spring dish with fresh egg pasta loaded with veggies like roasted eggplant, zucchini, spinach, and tomato. But it was mediocre. Lesson learned, don't order Italian at a French restaurant?

After I nearly licked my plate of Ahi, I couldn't help but notice the Paleron Sauce Poivre Vert being served at the table next to mine. Gorgeous flat-iron steak served in a cognac, green peppercorn sauce, with golden potato gratin on the side. Sorry, dining neighbor, if I was staring.

For dessert, another hit and another miss.

The Moelleux au Chocolat, flourless chocolate cake with crème anglaise, was a little cloying and nothing spectacular. The Tarte Tatin on the other hand, très bon. A superb mix of flakiness soaked in burnt caramel, tender apple, and whipped cream. Worth saving room for.

All in all, Café Claude may be like a fickle love affair -- hot, cold, hot, cold. But this meal did end on a hot note, and there's no question that a second date is in order.

Café Claude
7 Claude Lane
(between Bush St & Sutter St)
San Francisco, CA 94108
415-392-3505

Listen Live to Eating Out in the Bay Area on KQED 88.5FM Thu, Apr 9, 2009 -- 10:00 AM.

Listen to the audio archive of Eating Out in the Bay Area on KQED's Forum. (archive posts 4/9 late eve)


Eating Out in the Bay Area
The San Francisco Chronicle just released its annual list of the Bay Area's 100 Top Restaurants. We'll talk about the new list with restaurant critic Michael Bauer. We'll also talk with food writer Marcia Gagliardi and Zagat editor Meesha Halm about some of the area's better budget deals, and look at the relevancy of restaurant criticism in the era of blogs and Yelp.

Host: Michael Krasny

Guests:
Marcia Gagliardi, freelance food writer and author of the e-column "The Tablehopper."

Michael Bauer, executive food and wine editor and restaurant critic for The San Francisco Chronicle. Bauer writes SFGate's food blog: Between Meals.

Meesha Halm, local editor of the Zagat Bay Area Restaurant Guide

In celebration of our most patriotic holiday, I am declaring my own independence from what I consider one of the most irritating sites on the internet-- Yelp.com. Even the name causes me to chafe.

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the word "yelp" means:

1. Noun: a sharp shrill bark or cry (as of a tog or turkey); (see) also squeal.

2. Intransitive verb: To utter a sharp quick shrill cry.

At least. they've given themselves an accurate name.

Perhaps it is my own, personal distaste for democracy, especially in terms of voting for, say, restaurants (think Zagat), pop singers (think American Idol), or even presidents (think about whomever you wish) that makes me dislike sites such as Yelp. Before your underwear gets anymore bunched in places, I am hardly un-American. I am a firm believer in our particular form of government, which happens to be republican, rather than democratic. And before your y-fronts become irretrievably lodged, I am referring to systems of government, not political parties. For the sake of argument today, I shall limit my discussion to restaurant commentary.

It seems that anyone with access to a computer today can write a restaurant review, myself included. But is everyone's opinion worth reading, let alone writing? That is certainly debatable. I for one, don't think so.

Call me a snob. Call me an elitist pig. I've been called much worse.

Of course, I believe that everyone is certainly entitled to his or her opinion, but many opinions expressed on sites like Yelp are neither well-informed nor, as is more often the case, well-written.

For example, I've chosen three reviews of Brenda's French Soul Food on Polk Street, which has, as of this posting, 338 Yelp reviews. This is from a four yelp star rated piece:

"I enjoyed this place a lot. We found parking right on Vaness. Our wait was about 20 minutes. We arrived at 11am I think. It will seat about 20 people-30people. I did not see Brenda though."

"My first time eating beignets -- I did not know it came in threes, I should of ordered one of each. We got three apple ones. It was gooood and fattening."

"I ordered the bowl of gumbo (dark gumbo). I am use to the tomatoey colored gumbo but it was pretty good."

"Also got an entree of the Harrytown special which includes oysters, grits and biscuits."

"I loved the biscuits."

"Cute little place to revisit or bring out of towners."

Harrytown Special? I can only assume she meant Hangtown Fry. With testimonials like this, it's not surprising the restaurant sustains such long lines out the door. Are reviews such as these typed on a texting keypad, rather than at a keyboard? That would be a charitable explanation of such short sentences. It's like some unevocative, bastard form of haiku. It horrifies, but that's just fine, since I tend to savor crappiness. The only point it serves, in my book, is as the object of mockery.

Now here is an excerpt from a not-so-good (two yelp star) review:

"Just before we passed out from hunger, they brought over our beignet flight which was good, our favorite beignet was the crawfish. The only other compliment I have is for the coffee. The breakfast plates were mediocre. My friend, who was starving, took 5 bites of her omelette and left the rest."

She certainly has a flair for the dramatic. If one decides to set out and review a restaurant, whether one has enjoyed the experience or not, one should, to the best of one's ability, explain why. What made these crawfish beignets good? What could possibly compel a starving woman to take only five bites of an omelette? These are things I want answered. If a reviewer cannot accurately describe her experience-- the food she ate, the service she received, or her surroundings-- she has no business wasting anyone's time with her fourth-grade writing skills. Make that third grade-- I know a couple of nine year-olds who write much more vividly.

And, finally, here's a rather terrible (one yelp star) piece:

"I am as honest as a heartbeat, so believe me when I say that this spot is highly overrated. I just have no desire to come again-- wait or no wait."

"I had a bit of all four of our plates and the sampler benettes, so here goes my opinion..."

"My dish-- The Shrimp and Goat Cheese Omelet Grits and Cream Biscuit-- The shrimp was not devianed and thus flavorless. I opted not to have the bacon relish on top so I will be fair and refrain from further commenting about it. I like my gritts creamier than it was but it was tastey and the buiscutt was pretty good."

"Watermelon Sweet Tea-- Free refills, but they don't really tell you that. liked it because it was not sweet, and I like water. It was also luke-warm."

"The Chalkboard Special, Shrimp Pot Pie- The shrimp was overcooked and rubbery, and the veggies were overcooked and mushy. Boo Hoo!"

Honest as a heartbeat. Perhaps she should have her cardiologist examine her for arrythmia. I don't trust anyone starts off by telling me how honest she is. It was a bad review on a number of levels, star ratings aside. I do, however, admire her creative spelling, the fact that she feels shrimp proto --intestines are where all the flavor is, and that she can't tell the difference between a mirror and a chalkboard. I read the bit about why she likes the Watermelon Sweet Tea about ten times.

If you're interested in reading about her bikini waxing at the Pink Cheeks Skin Salon in Sherman Oaks, I will happily email you her yelp profile.

I had hoped the members of Yelp Elite might be a little more helpful or, at least, better writers, since the elite page states:

"...Yelp members who get in are known for having reviews that are insightful, irreverent and personal (aka useful, funny and cool!)."

Of course, it also requests that Elite members have:

"Personal pizazz! Even after all this, we look for a certain je ne sais quoi—we call it Yelpitude. To paraphrase Supreme Court Justice James Stewart when defining pornography in a case about obscenity, 'Yelp Elite is hard to define, but we 'know it when we see it.'"

Perhaps I should have sensed trouble when I realized the Yelp Elite squad (or, at least, the person responsible for writing the copy) had mistaken a much-beloved Campbell's Soup-hawking actor for Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart.

The first elite reviewer I read was a young lady named Beverly. She went on and on about her experience with a DAT date to Frisée Restaurant in the Castro. I hope that by DAT she meant "Dine About Town". Please read:

"Sidenote: It was cramped as s**t. We sat upstairs and the ceiling was like 6 feet high and we sat at a tiny itty bitty table next to a tiny itty bitty walk way. Oh and the service. SLOW AS S**T. I want to minus stars for the service but the food was so good I just can't bring myself to do it."

What is it about her personal writing style that led her to become part of the Yelp Elite? Was it her penchant for using fecal terms when describing her experience? Perhaps it was her photos (which are required of all Elite members). Maybe her two lip rings at the right-hand corner of her mouth catch enough food so that she might savor it more thoughtfully upon her return home from dining, quill pen in hand and that deep-in-thought dreamy look that only fake, blue-tinted contact lenses can properly convey. Does she have "that certain je ne sais quoi"? I'm thinking it's more like elle ne sait rien.

Well, I've had my fun at Yelp's expense today, but to be fair(ish), I must say that, in browsing the site for several hours this week, I have come across some people who do offer thoughtful-- and fairly well-written-- reviews. Case in point: Kerry "Tempura Assassin" K in describing her experience at Burritoville in San Anselmo:

"[My husband] was a little more offended at the sight of iceberg lettuce on his carne asada taco ($2.95) than I was. Granted, yes, iceberg lettuce in a Mexican restaurant is an insult to my intelligence, I was able to forgive. This was largely due to the chips, which were thick, crisp, and toasty as well as a lovely salsa bar, friendly and welcoming service, a clean environment, and a buy 9 get 1 free taco card."

"Caveat lector: on the back of the frequent buyer card, it spells out the number of tacos in spanish, "uno, dos, etc." After the 9th one it says "bingo gringo". Gringo eh? That must mean that either Latinos and Chicanos don't eat here or the food isn't real Mexican. So perhaps my taste can't be trusted with this review. If you keep reading, read on with that in mind."

Finally, someone who notices and describes those little details that make a review worth reading. That, and the fact that she used the term caveat lector correctly (or at all). A bright, shining tablet of antacid to save me from so much Yelping bile. I'd really like to hug her. If elite membership could be limited to the likes of Kerry, I think I might have a little more faith in the website. Otherwise, what is the point of creating an elite class, if it is open to, well, everyone?

If you accused me of elitism, you'd be absolutely correct in doing so. Why should I waste my time reading the average person's average review? I don't want an average guy running my country, building my home, or giving me a colonoscopy. I want experts. I want smart people. Same goes for my restaurant reviewers. If all you can give me in describing a gumbo is "OMGITSAWESUM!!!", perhaps you should just keep it to yourself. The world beyond your Myspace friends list is not ready for you.