Pizzaiolo is one of my favorite places to eat in Oaktown because of its consistently delicious food, kind service, and, elevating the experience, wonderful ambiance. As you step inside, the glow of the pizza oven, the golden lighting, and the hum of lively conversation wrap you in an embrace of hipster warmth. Somehow, everyone--emo twenty-somethings to retired hippies--looks cool inside Pizzaiolo's intentionally-worn post-industrial brick walls. It's a good feeling, as I'm sure Jake Gyllenhaal agrees. (He was at a nearby table when I dined there once. Not that I actually saw him; I was busy with my chanterelle pizza.)
But we're here to talk about the menu, aren't we? In the grand tradition of Italian ristoranti, the menu is organized by course: Antipasti (apps), Primi (pasta), Secondi (fish and meat), Pizze (obvi), Contorni (veggie sides). Ergo, confusion ensues. When one is actually nell'Italia, this structure makes more sense. We linger over food, one course at a time, relishing il dolce far niente. In America, where we need to move the car, stat, or catch the newest episode of Glee after dinner, it's not usually practical (in the temporal, financial, or stomachal sense) to order five courses per person. Luckily, it is perfectly acceptable to mix and match, to eat pasta but no meat, to order two antipasti and a contorno, or to simply devour a pizza. Also, I think there is something lovely about ordering your side dishes separately from the main course. The menu is all about opportunity, do-it-yourself meal building. And that's a heckuva lot more exciting than choosing between a house salad and steak fries, right? Furthermore, the choose your own adventure menu works exceedingly well in a place like Pizzaiolo, where every single dish has been thoughtfully fitted to the list so that there can be no bad combination.
It's quite liberating, really.
OK, so at my last visit, on a Tuesday evening, the shorter-than-usual wait for a table was almost ruined by the fact that we (a party of three), were seated at possibly the worst table in the place. It was closest to the door, placing us in the middle of some intense traffic flow and a chilly breeze. But with good company, it doesn't really matter, so I just kept my scarf on. We decided to order two pizzas and a contorno to share, which is a great way to go if you're with a small group and you want to taste a variety of dishes and not spend a bundle. Indeed, my main gripe with the place (and that Italian-style menu) is that it gets expensive to put together a diverse meal. In the past, I've had selections from all parts of the menu and have found the best choices to be the ones cooked in the brick oven--like last Tuesday's Swiss chard gratin--but the antipasti add a shot of freshness to an otherwise warm and hearty menu.Very smart.
The menu changes daily, with the exception of perennial favorites, and features seasonal produce. Local producers get a mention here and there but aren't shoved in your face. Overall, descriptions are very simple, usually just lists of ingredients, and there are fewer obscure pasta names/shapes to translate than at, say, Oliveto. Not that that's a negative, necessarily. It's just nice to be able to imagine your food without help. The beverages and wine list are delightful, and I was pleased to discover Pellegrino Sanbitter there, which is like Campari but tastier and non-alcoholic. It likewise comes in an adorable tiny glass bottle, which I insisted on taking home. Pretty sure the waiter thought I was a nut for that, but now I have a darling little bottle to hold flowers. Or a flower.
Summary: Pizzaiolo's menu is well-crafted, thematic but elegant, and consistent in its quality. I suggest including some lower priced primi and secondi or a prix-fixe menu for those of us who can't yet afford to order everything we want. And perhaps lowering the price on antipasti that I'm sure don't cost very much to produce. Then again, they're not hurting for business. Not even mine.
Showing posts with label oakland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oakland. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Menu Review: A Cote, Oakland
Planning a menu is just as important---and as much fun---when you go out to eat as when you're the cook. That's why I love the act of ordering. If the restaurant has done their job well, the printed menu should be cohesive. It should make sense, follow a theme (tone, cuisine, season), and give the sense that the chef has whittled down all of his options into the very best dishes and here they are for you to try and you can't go wrong. When this is the case, ordering off the menu is much easier. One, because you don't have to create your own theme, and two, because you don't have to worry about making a bad choice. (Ever tried to order off one of those 18-page, full-color atrocities at IHOP or Chiles? It ain't pretty.) All that's left to do is decide what you're in the mood to eat, work in the preferences of all your dining companions, make a few concessions for the sake of dining tranquility, and enjoy.
I would just like to point out quickly that despite the inalienable right that is freedom of choice on the menu, I would appreciate if more restaurants let the chef decide what to serve. They're the experts, so I am willing to put my gastronomical fate in their hands. I think more prix fixe dining, with a different menu every day (a la Chez Panisse downstairs) would at once inspire more trust in the chef as an artist and help to build up the often non-existent relationship between eater and chef. So that's my request.
Anyway, these concessions for the sake of dining tranquility tend to piss me off because, as the menu whisperer that I strive to be, I get a very clear idea of what I would like to eat when I look at a menu and I have a knack for ordering well. I do not like to be swayed from the path! I also do not like to share my dishes. Everyone has this urge to taste what someone else has ordered, but what good can come of sampling? Either you feel let down that you've ordered the inferior entree or you feel badly that yours is way better than everyone else's. It's better not to know. And have you ever noticed that that sample bite is never actually a satisfying, focused bite of food? For me, it's usually an urgent sort of must-taste-everything-possible-to-store-in-my-collection-of-things-I've-tasted-memory-box thing, but then I'm not paying enough attention to actually remember it. So I don't like to share. Of course, once I'm finished, I'm happy to let my companions help me clean the plate. And one should always share one's French fries. This is a given.
Therefore, despite the fact that it can be less satisfying to order with all those opinions flying around, I think family-style meals are lovely because everyone shares everything. No need to give up a bit of your own personal meal. (With a set menu, everyone eats the same thing and you get your own plate. Perfection.) Plus, you're sharing not only the dining experience but the actual flavors of the meal with the entire table. It can also make for great discussion of cuisine.
Thereforemore, I was excited to return to A Cote in Rockridge for their Mediterranean small-plates, served family style. I've had nice meals there in the past, and I love their sexy little dining room. Menu for a party of three, in order of table service:
Squash Blossoms with Ricotta and Pesto
Baby Spinach Salad with Feta, Persian Cucumbers, Cherry Tomatoes and Olive Dressing
Grilled steak [with little potatoes and aioli]
Prosciutto & Nectarine Flatbread
Mussels with Pernod from the Wood Oven
To Drink: Delirium Tremens pale ale
The amount of food was perfect, even with one mussel eschewer. We also ordered a nice variety of foods, so the meal was well rounded. However, there was a definite lack of cohesion, and that's my problem with the A Cote menu at large, not just our little selection. The Mediterranean theme and the tapas sizes sort of tie it all together, but these five dishes could have been delivered to our table from three or four different restaurants and I wouldn't have been surprised. That leaves me with a feeling of confusion, so I exit the restaurant trying to remember what I've eaten instead of enjoying a nice serene satisfaction. Am I in France or Italy? Greece or California? What time of year is it again? Quality of the dishes was also wildly variable. Our best adjective for the squash blossoms was "fried." The salad was just a normal salad, not worth $10. The flatbread was a lovely idea and the steak well cooked, but neither was terribly memorable. The mussels, a regular on the A Cote menu, were too salty. Mine are better. The servers also gave us fresh plates far too often. Very thoughtful, but we're not that messy. Oh, and I didn't pick the right beer. It was raaaaathah fruity dahling.
Summary: A Cote needs to work on the togetherness of their menu. I recommend tying it together with more seasonality, a la the nectarine flatbread. Seasonal produce would also bring some freshness to their selection, which is very warm, hearty & cooked, even in late July. Brighter, please!
I would just like to point out quickly that despite the inalienable right that is freedom of choice on the menu, I would appreciate if more restaurants let the chef decide what to serve. They're the experts, so I am willing to put my gastronomical fate in their hands. I think more prix fixe dining, with a different menu every day (a la Chez Panisse downstairs) would at once inspire more trust in the chef as an artist and help to build up the often non-existent relationship between eater and chef. So that's my request.
Anyway, these concessions for the sake of dining tranquility tend to piss me off because, as the menu whisperer that I strive to be, I get a very clear idea of what I would like to eat when I look at a menu and I have a knack for ordering well. I do not like to be swayed from the path! I also do not like to share my dishes. Everyone has this urge to taste what someone else has ordered, but what good can come of sampling? Either you feel let down that you've ordered the inferior entree or you feel badly that yours is way better than everyone else's. It's better not to know. And have you ever noticed that that sample bite is never actually a satisfying, focused bite of food? For me, it's usually an urgent sort of must-taste-everything-possible-to-store-in-my-collection-of-things-I've-tasted-memory-box thing, but then I'm not paying enough attention to actually remember it. So I don't like to share. Of course, once I'm finished, I'm happy to let my companions help me clean the plate. And one should always share one's French fries. This is a given.
Therefore, despite the fact that it can be less satisfying to order with all those opinions flying around, I think family-style meals are lovely because everyone shares everything. No need to give up a bit of your own personal meal. (With a set menu, everyone eats the same thing and you get your own plate. Perfection.) Plus, you're sharing not only the dining experience but the actual flavors of the meal with the entire table. It can also make for great discussion of cuisine.
Thereforemore, I was excited to return to A Cote in Rockridge for their Mediterranean small-plates, served family style. I've had nice meals there in the past, and I love their sexy little dining room. Menu for a party of three, in order of table service:
Squash Blossoms with Ricotta and Pesto
Baby Spinach Salad with Feta, Persian Cucumbers, Cherry Tomatoes and Olive Dressing
Grilled steak [with little potatoes and aioli]
Prosciutto & Nectarine Flatbread
Mussels with Pernod from the Wood Oven
To Drink: Delirium Tremens pale ale
The amount of food was perfect, even with one mussel eschewer. We also ordered a nice variety of foods, so the meal was well rounded. However, there was a definite lack of cohesion, and that's my problem with the A Cote menu at large, not just our little selection. The Mediterranean theme and the tapas sizes sort of tie it all together, but these five dishes could have been delivered to our table from three or four different restaurants and I wouldn't have been surprised. That leaves me with a feeling of confusion, so I exit the restaurant trying to remember what I've eaten instead of enjoying a nice serene satisfaction. Am I in France or Italy? Greece or California? What time of year is it again? Quality of the dishes was also wildly variable. Our best adjective for the squash blossoms was "fried." The salad was just a normal salad, not worth $10. The flatbread was a lovely idea and the steak well cooked, but neither was terribly memorable. The mussels, a regular on the A Cote menu, were too salty. Mine are better. The servers also gave us fresh plates far too often. Very thoughtful, but we're not that messy. Oh, and I didn't pick the right beer. It was raaaaathah fruity dahling.
Summary: A Cote needs to work on the togetherness of their menu. I recommend tying it together with more seasonality, a la the nectarine flatbread. Seasonal produce would also bring some freshness to their selection, which is very warm, hearty & cooked, even in late July. Brighter, please!
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