Pasty... Pastis

This wasn't a place I was looking forward to trying, for a whole different reason than the few times before. A French Bistro... that sounds fun. It will definitely provide an opportunity for humiliation in a week or two when I get around to trying to duplicate the receipt. No, this place is a little too close to a place I don't want to go to... in the physical sense. Let's just say it is around the block from an old home and a short walk from a place I would rather forget.

Pastis is a great little restaurant. Once inside I forgot where it was located. Every server had a thick French accent, they seemed to care about their food, but more importantly, they seemed to care about their customers. Twice I saw, who I assume is the owner of the restaurant, go out of his way to make small conversations with diners. Twice, he came by our table to insist that we try a dish, once bringing us a free course because we told him we couldn't eat everything he recommended. This was the most Italian form of a French guy I have ever met. He was full of passion, loved life and food... so how was his food?

Our appetizer was great. It was a mussel and fries dish with the mussels in a Gorgonzola slash broth sauce... awesome. The main course was chicken and duck. Neither overly imaginative, and quite frankly, I was surprised that these were the two dishes that were recommended on the menu. Neither wooed, but both were good. (The chicken was better). It felt like food you would expect to eat at a place you go to because you like the way it tastes, not because it is cool for foodies. A little old world, it definitely felt like a home cooked meal. Good hearty food with solid flavors.

I would go back for the food alone, for the service... I wish I lived closer. On second though, for the service, I wish they would move to Los Gatos. It was a great dinner, come back next time... NEXT ROUND'S ON ME.

Robee's Falafel

Have you ever felt like you were in the right place, but at the wrong time? That would be an appropriate description of tonight. A nice Thursday evening in downtown San Jose. A newly renovated urban hot spot; music, TVs and a bar. The kind of place you would think to go to when you have an evening free, and you'd be right... just not yet. From what I can tell there is a solid year before The San Pedro Square Market lives up it's expectations. Right now, when you walk through it, it is half finished and does not make you want to stop for a quick drink. Stopping in after work is not as much like going to a local bar as it is going to a construction zone. Unfortunately this feel has an effect on the dining experience.

Overall the food at Robee's Falafel was good, not great, but about what you would expect from a dining scene that feels as much like a food court at the mall as a true neighborhood gem. Actually, when I phrase it like that it was pretty good, better than the mall. The menu was limited. The chicken Shwarma was recommended as the favorite so we got that along with a gyro and dolma. If I am going to be a true food critic I would call the chicken a little dry and the whole Shwarma dish lacking in flavor. Something was missing, more than likely salt. The gyro was really good, lamb, dill, yogurt and fresh onion... mmmm. I don't doubt that if Robee's can stay open for the next few years it will do great. I can see a place like this getting a cult local following, becoming a staple in a community, but it will take time. San Pedro Square Market is not ready for a big dining scene. It is getting close, but still a game changing restaurant or two away. Until next time... NEXT ROUND'S ON ME

Naan, naan, naan, nah...

Humbling, sort of. A sign of how far I have to go, for sure. My first attempt at making Indian food was a mixed bag. My wife's first comment summed it up, "If I didn't know I was supposed to be eating Indian food I would really like it."

The dish itself was fine, not great but fine. I chopped up pieces of chicken thighs, coated it with salt, pepper and ground mustard, cooked it in wine and cream with chili paste and mushrooms served over a large scoop of Basmati Rice. Now I'm not gonna lie, I like almost all food, but there is nothing I like more than rice. I know it is a weird go to dish, but I love it. The rice alone made me confident that I wouldn't hate the dish.

The problem is the sauce came out hella thin. (Yes, I said hella. That is an acceptance of my Bay Area roots, translated to very for the not so hip). The best thing about Indian food is taking the naan at the end of the meal and dipping it in the sauce. This dish would be better served with saltine crackers and a spoon.

I was actually very disappointed with the dish. It was edible, but not at all what I was intending. What hurts the most is it didn't even taste Indian. I do have a deep respect for the Indian cooking culture, and hope that one day I do it better justice than tonight. I guess it will take a little practice and time, but I have a lot of that. Come back next time... NEXT ROUND'S ON ME!

Indiana

Now this is what I was expecting when I started this little project. Arka is a new restaurant in Sunnyvale that has ties to another local restaurant that I really like, Sakoon. My first few times going to Sakoon I felt like I should have been in New York. It is sexy, chic, tight, low lights with a touch of neon, and music that you have never heard before, but would feel embarrassed if someone called you out on it. What was even more impressive, they served Indian food without making the whole restaurant smell like curry. (I really do like curry, but there is something about the smell). I have been back a few times and never disappointed, I was hoping there would be a similar Indian restaurant opening in the area and I was happy when I read about Arka.

Arka has a very similar feel to Sakoon. It is modern, cool music and a nice bar that is welcoming enough to watch a ballgame when you walk into the restaurant. While Sakoon does enjoy the feel of a "downtown" eatery, Arka makes up for it with it's space and comfort. The real test for Arka was going to be the food, and it didn't disappoint, sort of.

When I got to the restaurant I asked my waiter to bring me the house special, or whatever he would recommend. He put in an order for Lal Mirch Chicken, I didn't know what it sounded like so I figured it sounded good. In the mean time he brought a bowl of peppered peanuts to the table, they were delicious... until I rubbed my eye. For the rest of the night I was trying to look and talk to my wife without feeling like I just got pepper sprayed, and I couldn't. It burned... bad. It felt like the rest of the night was more of a test of pain tolerance than food enjoyment. When the chicken came I was totally satisfied, but not in the same way I was when I left Sakoon for the first time. My favorite part of eating Indian food is soaking up all of the leftover sauce with naan at the end of the meal, and this dish did not have an abundance of sauce. I could have saved my disappointment by reading the menu and seeing that the dish was described as "semi dry Asian chicken," but that takes some effort and incentive, and when I am out to eat I don't want to deal with that. When I go to Indian food just bring me tender chicken and a lot of sauce. Okay, maybe I need to spend a little more time eating and understanding Indian food, and it wouldn't hurt to look at the menu. In this case I was a victim of my own ignorance. The food was good, not completely what I was expecting, but good.

Overall, this wasn't my favorite dining experience, but most of my uncomfort is of my own fault. I learned a valuable lesson, don't put peppery figures in your own eye. Other than that I will have to come back again to give it a good second chance, and I truly look forward to it. I think Arka has was it takes to cement itself as a neighborhood gem, minus the ignorant diners.

Here's to some Indian chicken, remember... NEXT ROUND'S ON ME

Grilled Cheese...

Grilled cheese, an appropriate dish for... not sure. Possibly a six year old, or an eighty-six year old, when they don't have teeth anymore and desperately need something easy to eat. But then again, the tough crust wouldn't feel too good on the gums.

I have never been a big grilled cheese fan. I am lactose intolerant, a sophisticated way of saying that dairy products make my stomach hurt, so the thought of eating cheese has never been super appealing. To me, grilled cheese is comparable to Kraft Mac and Cheese. When I see someone cooking it, I want it. Other than that, I only get a craving for it somewhere between beer number four and twelve... and sometimes the next morning.

Honestly speaking, I didn't think I would have to do much to out perform The Melt. The farther I get away from eating their sandwich, the less and less I ever want to go back. I was going to make my sandwich simple, understand the flavors I wanted and with good ingredients, and I did.

I started with Watsonville sour dough bread. Now from what I understand sour dough bread is different everywhere in the world. Apparently the yeast that makes the sour dough unique is only found in the specific regions where the bread is made. Around here, San Francisco sour dough bread reigns supreme. But I am Croatian, and Watsonville has a dense Croatian population, so I went with the Watsonville yeast. Next I got some good, thickly sliced pepper jack cheese, followed by a ripe heirloom tomato and apple wood smoked bacon. (I bought everything at Whole Foods, a desperate attempt to appear caught up in quality, truthfully showing my weakness to brainwashing and marketing. I am sure that Safeway cheese and bacon would be just fine... but mine was better!). After putting the sandwich together I layered both outside pieces of bread with unsalted butter, put it on my panini press and let it cook. After one bite my wife said, "You kicked The Melt's ass!" 'Nuff said. I may not like them, they may not be that hard to make, but I make one kick ass grilled cheese.

Till next time... NEXT ROUNDS ON ME

The Melt

I like the ambiance. When we walked into The Melt it felt like a place I would imagine in Palo Alto. It was chic, cool, and it reminded me of what 1950 should have felt like. The menu was simple, five different grilled cheese sandwiches and five different soups. "Do what you do well," one of my favorite ways of doing business, I was excited.

Truthfully, the best part of the evening was the movie I took my wife to before we ate. We were in Palo Alto so we figured we would go to The Stanford Theater beforehand. As a bonus we got to see Casablanca, one of my favorite movies. An old movie, in a classic movie theater, on our way to eat an old school classic, the stars couldn't have aligned any better.

After the third bite of my grilled cheese with tomatoes and jalapenos, I looked up and said to my wife, "this taste like I am eating a grilled cheese sandwich from Panera," and that's how I felt the rest of the meal. There was nothing unique or original about the food. Quite frankly, it wasn't that good. Neither my wife or I finished the meal. On our way home we looked up The Melt on-line and found out it was a chain... no wonder. Anyways, I feel comfortable with making a better grilled cheese than what I just ate, so come back... NEXT ROUND'S ON ME.

Nothing Bundt Cake

Not gonna lie, this isn't how I expected my little project to start. Beside the face that Nothing Bundt Cake isn't a restaurant, it isn't even really cooking, it's baking. And before 4:30 tonight I had never baked anything in my life. I guess that is not completely true. When I was young, with my sister, we used to make blueberry muffins from a box. About half way through the baking you would pour the sugary crumbs on top of the muffins to make them hide the taste of the actual muffins. I would always put a little extra on the muffin I intended to eat, make sure to be the one that put them on a cooling rack and then take the best one. I guess that was one of the few advantages I had in being an older brother. Back to 4:30 this afternoon. The Steeler vs. Bronco game was tied just getting ready to start overtime, and I knew Tebow was about to make magic so I was a little flustered. But I also knew that my uncle Doug was coming over for cake, and my wife was in the kitchen waiting for me, so... I turned the volume up as loud as I could and started baking. Some shortening, flour, sugar, some other small ingredients and an ish load of red food coloring and I had what looked like cake batter. For the record, desserts are disgusting. I think if most people knew what they were eating they would not order dessert at a restaurant, I was completely grossed out by the time the cake was in the oven. As I was mixing the cocoa powder and food coloring into the batter I could hear from the other room that the Broncos just scored an eighty yard touchdown to win the game, no biggie... I will watch it later, I Tebowed it. (Get it. It is a play on the popular recording device, tevo). Next the frosting. If I wasn't completely disgusted by the cake batter, I would be by the time I finished the frosting. Cream cheese, butter and sugar. Really? I may never eat dessert again. Oh well, it tastes good.

After eating a nice rotisserie chicken and enjoying a glass of Cabernet Franc we cut into the cake. And... it was actually good. Really light, way lighter than the cake we got from Nothing Bundt Cake. The cream cheese frosting wasn't as thick either. Mixing both the batter and the frosting I left the mixer on for an extra minute just to get a lot of air into the mixtures and it may have whipped them a little too much. I am probably being a little over critical, everyone who had it said they really liked it, some said they liked it more than Nothing Bundt Cake's. I don't think it was that good, but it was definitely impressive for my first shot at it. I still don't like baking much, but it was a fun way to spend a Sunday evening with my wife.

This week was good, here's to an even better next week. NEXT ROUNDS ON ME.

Sweet Start

I was expecting something different. I was going to open the paper, see that a Micheline Star chef had just opened a new restaurant in town. I would go to a neighborhood gem, have one of the best meals of my life and come home to try to duplicate it... (and rather well I hope). Instead, I open the paper to find a write up on Nothing Bundt Cake. Really, Nothing Bundt Cake? A chain! Worse, a dessert chain! I don't like cake, in fact, I don't like dessert. More than dessert, I don't like baking. Everything taste like sugar, plus it seems really hard and kind of makes me feel like a girl. To rub salt into the wound the new store they were writing about was opening in Fremont. Okay, so I am supposed to drive to Fremont to buy a dessert that I don't like, to try to replicate in a style that I don't like all for the sake of a blog that no one will read, and I will probably stop writing soon. Instead, I went to the store in Los Gatos, (this is the one good thing about chains). It was an easy sell for my wife. I said, "Do you want to take a quick ride to LG and I will buy you a cake?" Done.

Enough of my belly aching... what did I think about the cake? Well, it tasted like cake. It was really sweet, moist, but dense. After two bites I was done. For the sake of the project I took a third and felt like I was going to get sick. Something about the thought of sugar and butter is a turn off for me, which is weird because I love fatty meats. But it's true, I don't love sweets. My wife did not share the same sentiment, she loved it. We picked out Red Velvet because we were told that it is Nothing Bundt Cakes's most popular item. I am excited about that because I have never made a Red Velvet myself, we'll see how I do on Sunday.

Come back and see how I did. Remember... NEXT ROUND'S ON ME.