Within the last week, I was lucky enough to find and dine at three great restaurants. They are not perfect. No restaurant, or restaurant experience, is perfect. But these three are great, and for very different reasons. Allow me to explain.
1. Vino in Lafayette (Force of personality)
Half of Vino's waitstaff (of 2) probably does not even know what the word tapas means. The ingredients, though fresh, are not of the highest quality. The ambiance is bland, even a bit geriatric. So what makes this a great restaurant? Answer: The other half of the waitstaff, i.e. Castro the owner.
Castro, who is probably Basque, Italian, Spanish, or Argentinian, runs this little operation on Mt. Diablo Blvd. The restaurant has about six or seven small tables. A piano takes up 1/3 of the square footage. Castro runs the show. Forget about showing up,
sans reservation. If you had the foresight to make a reservation, you are in for a treat. Here, it's mostly about the experience. He may have some control issues and he may be suffering the early stages of Tourette's syndrome. He will definitely "guide" you on what you should order and he will belt out a random tune when it gets too quiet. You will have fun.
My Basque meatball appetizer was incredible. It is a mix of ground beef, tomatoes, garlic, and herbs. The meat was probably closer to Safeway than Niman Ranch, but it was prepared with care and pride. And it showed. My entree of roasted scallops with chorizo was fantastic, in texture, temperature, and sauce-to-protein ratio, despite the fact that the chorizo may have been chopped Oscar Meyer bologna. The wine list was competent, and not a bit ostentatious.
2. Noodle Theory in Oakland (It's the ingredients, stupid)
At Noodle Theory, it's all about the quality of the food. Followers of this site know that I generally detest trendy fusion fare. But this is definitely the exception to the rule. Noodle Theory takes over the space formerly occupied by an ice cream joint. It is cramped inside and the table next to you is literally in your face. There is no ambiance to speak of. If you are facing the window, you get a great view of traffic stopped at the red light on Claremont and College. (I saw a truck nearly rear end another vehicle.)
The clientele there is the epitome of the trendy early 30 something progressive urbanite. Think Audi A4 with Thule rack and Peet's coffee cup in hand.
But forget all that and just focus on your dining companion and the food in front of you. Especially the food. It will make you realize that the decor, cramped space, the diners sitting at the next table, etc., are a small price to pay for creative, hearty, and delicious food. I had a coconut curry udon with thin slivers of Niman Ranch beef on top. As you eat it, everything around you disappears. It's just you and that bowl of noodles. And all is well. Especially with a cold bottle of Singha to wash everything down.
3. Bistro Moulin in Monterey (Don't forget your (French) heritage)
"My compliments to the chef." Who says that? Apparently, I do. After lunch today at Bistro Moulin, I walked ten feet from my table to the kitchen and told the chef-owner, Didier Duterte, how much I enjoyed the meal.
Just a block away from the Monterey Aquarium, most of Bistro Moulin's competitors are touristy rip-offs selling clam chowder, one Sysco 55 gallon drum at a time. Didier, who was trained in Strasbourg, focuses on infusing locally derived ingredients with the flavor of France. The appetizer platter included a generous piece of roasted garlic eggplant that was tender and assertive in tone, creamy goat cheese, and smoked salmon with thin slices of raw onions and just the right amount of capers. My entree, a red snapper with sides of greens and roasted vegetables, was probably the best seafood dish I've had in years. The surface of the fish was slightly crunchy but very moist inside. It was drizzled with butter but not greasy. The red spice rub strangely reminded me of a curry dish I had everyday for lunch one summer in Japan. The meal was pretty close to perfect, except for a touchless paper towel dispenser in the restroom that needed touching. But I am willing to overlook that.
CKY
Half of Vino's waitstaff (of 2) probably does not even know what the word tapas means. The ingredients, though fresh, are not of the highest quality. The ambiance is bland, even a bit geriatric. So what makes this a great restaurant? Answer: The other half of the waitstaff, i.e. Castro the owner.
At Noodle Theory, it's all about the quality of the food. Followers of this site know that I generally detest trendy fusion fare. But this is definitely the exception to the rule. Noodle Theory takes over the space formerly occupied by an ice cream joint. It is cramped inside and the table next to you is literally in your face. There is no ambiance to speak of. If you are facing the window, you get a great view of traffic stopped at the red light on Claremont and College. (I saw a truck nearly rear end another vehicle.)
"My compliments to the chef." Who says that? Apparently, I do. After lunch today at Bistro Moulin, I walked ten feet from my table to the kitchen and told the chef-owner, Didier Duterte, how much I enjoyed the meal.
When I was a teenager, I thumbed through back issues of Auto Trader magazines until my fingers were inky black. In them, I would see ads for police auctions in which Corvettes seized from drug dealers could be had for $100. That never happened in real life.
