Phil's Fish Market and Eatery

Address: 7600 Sandholdt Road, Moss Landing, California 95039. 831.633.2152.

Review: The family and I recently found ourself in California. See, our Honda Civic has 250,000 miles on it, and it's about ready to go the way of all the earth. In searching far and wide for a new car, we decided to buy Demaree's brother's Mitsubishi Outlander. So, we hopped on a plane to Monterey, California. (Can I just say I love Northern California. San Francisco is one of my top three American cities, and the surrounding countryside is really magnificent.)

Before we trucked over the Sierra-Nevadas back to the SLC, we grabbed some dinner in Monterey. Thankfully, the restaurant of choice, Phil's Fish Market and Eatery, was just off Highway 1. On the west side of 1 were vast fields of artichokes. On the east, the ocean. Fantastic stuff.

Now, I had heard of Phil's because he was involved in an episode of "Throwdown with Bobby Flay." Cioppino battle, to be specific. Phil won. FYI: this won't be another review of Phil's cioppino. It's been done to death. Besides, cioppino ain't my thing, so I didn't have any.

We started out with some fried calamari and clam chowder. (And by we, I mean me, since Dem doesn't like seafood. She had a chicken sandwich. De gustibus non est disputandum.)

The calamari were locally caught, fresh, and fried well. Tender, except for the tentacles, which should always be crunchy. I enjoyed them. The sauces, tartar and cocktail, were okay. A little sweet chili or something of the like would have made them sing.

The clam chowder wasn't particularly clammy. It was more about the cream than it was the seafood, which is unfortunate.

The next appetizer were the fried artichokes. 

Mmm, local artichokes. This area of California is the artichoke-producing capital of the world. The artichokes are large and beautiful. I have never tried a fried artichoke before, and I'm glad I have now. Artichokes have a fairly mild taste (they are a thistle, after all), so the frying helped add some flavor and texture. The sauce was a ranch, which thankfully, wasn't overpowering, so you could still taste the thistle. I would like to try a recipe with slightly less breading, just to see how that would jive, but these were crunchy, steamy goodness. 

And the main course: blackened scallops.

As you can see, Phil's is not a haute cuisine type of place. Next to these perfectly cooked scallops is a big bunch of fries, a salad right out of a double wide, and garlic bread. It's a funny juxtaposition. In any case, the scallops were spot on. Tasty blackening seasoning, topped with some capers and butter. Sweet, succulent, smokey, beautiful. Fries were good to, although by this point I had eaten way too much stuff that had been dipped into a deep-frier. 

One other fun aspect of Phil's is the live music. There's just something cool about eating good seafood and listening to bluegrass music. Elliot loved it. After eating his perfunctory five bites of food (that about all he ever eats), he made a B-line to the band and started dancing with the other kids. Good family joint.

Rating: 7/10 (5/10 is average).

(Note: Mad props to Erick and Gretchen for buying us this wonderful meal. Thanks so much, guys.)

Alamexo

Address: 268 South State Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. 801.779.4747.

Review: In the middle of trial, lunch is a sanctuary. There is no arguing during lunch. No objections. No questions. If the food is good, that's just an added bonus. 

Alamexo is the new Mexican joint in town. It's also exceedingly close to the courthouse. Perfect for lunch.

We started, as does every other person who has ever frequented Alamexo, with the guacamole. Made table-side, this guac is a combination of perfectly ripe avocado, chopped jalapeño, tomatoes, and cilantro. 

Luscious, creamy, slightly acidic, herby. Only real gripe was lack of salt.

Next up was the cochinita pibil with corn tortillas.

The pork is marinated in anchiote and bitter orange and served with habanero pickled onions. Sounds fantastic, right? In reality, it was pretty bland. I didn't pick up any bitter orange flavor. The habanero pickled onions lacked any assertive vinegar taste, and there was no heat at all. The tortillas, far as I could tell, were industrial-made. The accompanying black beans, in contrast, were money. And the fried plantains with crema. Goodness. Sweet, crunchy, starchy. Just gorgeous. So, the actual dish was not worth the time spent chewing, but the accompaniments were worth every second.

Last up: dessert. I don't usually order dessert, but when I heard one included fried plantains with crema and chocolate drizzle, how could I resist?  

This was the first time I've ever experienced plantains and chocolate. Brilliant. Totally works. The crema added additional fattiness. Just good, good, good.

Rating: 6.5/10 (5/10 is average).

(Note: I usually focus only on food. Good food warrants any amount of money. This said, Alamexo is simply too expensive for the quality. With the exception of dessert (which was heavenly), I have found more flavorful food at taco stands. (And this is not a knock. taco stands produce some of the better Mexican food in America. They just happen to do so at prices 1/4 to 1/5 of Alamexo.))

Eva's Bakery

Address: 155 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. 801.355.3942.

Review: Lunch, lunch, lunch. Where to go for lunch? Seems like we're always on the look-out for that next great lunch spot. Criteria include, but are not limited to: not too expensive, good food, quick, convenient location. Eva's Bakery has some things going for it. It's not too expensive. It has a nice, convenient downtown location. The atmosphere is quaint and unpretentious (if you don't include the Relief Society dyed-blonde thirty-somethings who talked like woo girls enjoying a girls' mid-day out). But, like always, it comes down to the food. The food is king.

I started with the French onion soup.

Now, I must admit, my favorite component of a French onion soup is the cheesy soaked-in-oniony-broth crostino on top. (Well, to be entirely candid, the farinaceous part of any recipe is usually my favorite.) The soup included, not one, but three cheesy crostini. And they were money. Wonderfully soggy. Mmm. The soup itself was alright, but not my preference. I prefer a deeply rich soup. This was a lighter version without the caramel flavors of well cooked onions. 

On to the main course: salad nicoise. This is a classic and beautiful French salad, and when something is as iconic as a salad nicoise, you either need to make the best icon possible, or change it up in such a way that you improve upon the classic recipe. Eva went with the latter option, and decided to use tuna salad instead of straight tuna. It didn't work as planned. It muddied the waters as it were by adding fat and other elements that took away from the tuna, and, hence the salad. I liked the salad as a salad, but not as a salad nicoise.

Now, I must say I saw a lot of dishes that looked quite good. And they may well be. Additionally, the pastries made my eyes dance. So, it could be I just ordered the wrong items. That said, I was happy to have lunched with a dear friend at Eva's. She made up for the just okay food I chose.

Alas, the search for that money lunch spot continues.

Rating: 5/10 (5/10 is average).

Best Meals of My Life: Part I

I'm going to take a little break from reviewing Salt Lake restaurants to reminisce about some of the the best meals I've ever eaten. Perhaps not surprisingly to those who have read more than seven consecutive words of my writing, most of these meals have taken place in Italy. In fact, the first took place in Verona.

Verona is a magically delightful city. Situated in Northern Italy's Veneto region (a historical anomaly brought about by Venice conquering Verona back in the day), Verona is the home of, among other things, Romeo and Juliet; one of the best preserved Roman coliseums in the world (which hosts an amazing open-air summer opera season); and the sublime, winding Adige river. It is also home to one of the most developed horse cuisines in Europe. (I know, horse. Sounds crazy to Americans, but horse is one of the best red meats out there. Honestly, if you get the chance, try it.)

Some years ago now, my wife, son, and I were winding down our Italian vacation. Verona was on the ville du juor, as it were. We took in the coliseum, Piazza Brà, Parco Cesaro Lambroso, etc. Part way through the day, we happened (intentionally) upon Juliet's balcony. For those who have never been, Juliet's balcony is a tribute to lovers. The archway leading to the courtyard is covered in love messages scrawled on ancient stone. Inside the courtyard, within the shadow of her balcony, stands Juliet in all her one-shiny-boob splendor. After basking in the romance of the scene, and having taken the obligatory good-luck photos with Juliet, we meandered east toward the Adige. It was time for lunch, so we walked north along the west side of the river until we found a promising restaurant: Trattoria all'Amelia. 

I believe we were the only ones in the Trattoria, which meant we received the proprietor's undivided attention. An interminably nice man, he suggested various dishes. I settled on the gnocchi with ragù veronese, braised rabbit, and grilled polenta. Demaree ate something, although I can't remember what. Elliot ate part of our dishes, but he also devoured a head cheese sort of sliced meat the proprietor provided gratis.

I began with the gnocchi. Like the mystics of old, the experience of eating these gnocchi was transcendent, almost ineffable. They were light like pillows, toothsome, and delicious to the taste. The ragù was a tight sauce made of almost all meat, with just enough tomato and onion to bind everything together. Incredible. By far the best gnocchi I have ever eaten. (I asked the proprietor how he made them. He responded by saying he used standard red potatoes and giving me a general gnocchi making procedure. When I pressed him for more information, he politely declined. I wanted to yell, "Damn you, you nice old man! Tell me what kind of voodoo do you practice to create such food?!" In the end, I didn't.)

The rabbit, unlike most, was succulent tender. It was lean and meaty, and ever so slightly gamey. It went perfectly with the braised vegetables and grilled polenta. (Rabbit and polenta: you know you're in Northern Italy when those words are joined by a conjunctive.) These people had put a lot of thought and time into this dish, and that was readily apparent.

We ate. We talked. We basked in the afternoon sun shimmering off the Adige. Elliot exited his chair and scampered about. 

There is nothing better in this world than passing time with my family eating memorable food. These are the times I will remember when I'm about to pass the way of all the earth. Not remembered will be the hours spent at the office, or the time spent watching television (except "Breaking Bad") or lifting weights. No, these small moments made special by family and food is what I will think about before beginning that singular journey to the pleasing bar of the great Jehovah. And during that journey, the angels who stand as sentinels will serve heaping plates of Trattoria all'Amelia's gnocchi, for they are the food of God. 

Rosa's Cafe

Address: 4235 Sherwood Way, San Angelo, Texas 76901. 325.942.7597.

Review: Rosa's is my wife's favorite spot in San Angelo. I think she used to eat there fairly often in high school, and that habit's been tough to beat  over the years. Rosa's is sort of fast food, sort of not. It's not in the sense it doesn't taste like fast food. It is in the sense you receive your food quickly.

Let's talk about Rosa's interior for a moment. First thing you notice is color, lots and lots of vivid, eclectic color. In fact, it's like a Frida Kahlo painting blew up all over the joint. The other thing you notice is the tortilla machine churning out fresh-made tortillas by the dozen. My son and I can sit and watch that machine forever. 

The food. Well, it's good. We've had a number of items on the menu and we've liked the all. Demaree usually orders the taco carbon plate, while I usually grab fajitas or the like. Nothing is spectacular here, but everything is pretty darn good. The salsa bar contains the usually suspects: pico de gallo, mild and hot salsas, limes, etc. All are flavorful.  Quite honestly, I east at Rosa's for the tortillas. I love them. I crave them. I eat copious amounts of them at every sitting. The sopapillas are money: light, airy, steeming hot, sugary. Top them with honey. Mmm. And they come eight to an order for next to nothin'. 

Just and enjoyable place to catch a quick bite.

Rating: 6.5/10 (5/10 is average).

Hi Sushi

Address: 1400 Foothill Drive, Salt Lake City, Utah 801.906.8320.

Review: I have stated before that I am no sushi expert. I have never eaten sushi in Japan, nor have I eaten it outside the United States. This notwithstanding, I dig me some good sushi, and I don't dig me no bad sushi. Hi Sushi's sushi is the latter kind of sushi.

I started with the spicy squid and octopus rolls. 

Octopus is one of the better things you can put in your mouth, but not here. It was bland and tasteless. There was no spicy. The squid was even worse, to be honest. It was impossible to tell it was squid both because it didn't taste like squid, and because it had been chopped up into an indeterminate mass and mixed with other indeterminate stuff. Blah. The pickled ginger was very good though. 

I also tried a couple daily specials: black cod and monkfish liver. The black cod was tender and perfectly cooked. Among the best cod of any sort I've eaten. 

Monkfish liver is dubbed the foie gras of the sea. Foie gras is, of course, fattened duck liver, and is a beautiful, beautiful product. Maybe fresh monkfish liver approaches or surpasses foie gras, but not this stuff.

This liver was grainy and stale. It just wasn't good at all. The sauce added nothing.

Also, my buddy's salmon teriyaki was tough and overcooked. Not a good outing.

Rating: 3.5/10 (5/10 is average).

From Scratch

Address: 62 East Gallivan Avenue, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. 801.538.5090.

Review: A lawyer and a CEO of a silencer manufacturing company walk into a restaurant. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, right? Nope, it was lunch a couple days ago. For this lunch, the lawyer and the CEO picked a new joint: From Scratch. It's premise seems simple enough: make good food from scratch. To do this, they trucked in an Austrian flour mill (one of ten or so in America, I'm told). And it really does appear they make everything in house, which is great. Now, let's see if this gristmill's in- house fare is good eats.

We started with the short rib.

It is what it is: meat and potatoes. (There was supposed to a be a polenta cake as well, but it didn't come on our dish, which is fine.) The short rib was good and flavorful, if a bit dry. Not sure if they wanted a firmer finished product so they didn't cook the short rib until it was uber-tender, but it was a little tougher and less succulent than I prefer. The potatoes, on the other hand, were perfect when matched with the honey au jus. Rich, thick, meaty, wonderful.

Next on tap was the pumpkin ravioli.    

Beautifully presented dish, although I have eaten this enough times in Italy to know presentation correlates relatively little to taste. Pumpkin ravioli is a lesson in contrasts, the contrast of thin sheets of ravioli with the sweet pumpkin and savory sage butter. That contrast is about balance; balance makes the dish work. The balance was off here. It was entirely too sweet. The filling was sweet, the brown butter sauce (which didn't have much browned taste to it) mixed with aceto was sweet. Everything was just sweet. The pasta was also a bit thick and gummy. It just didn't work.

Last: salumi pizza. 

Now, this pizza is sort of supposed to be Neapolitanesque, but not really, so I will try not to judge it on Neapolitan criteria. First things first, the crust. It's thin and thick at the same time. It's quite airy inside, although as you get toward the center it's thin enough that it droops. Best way to eat it is to fold it like you're eating a slice of New York pizza. From Scratch makes the mozz in house, which is much appreciated. It was good. The salumi is Creminelli, which is a high-quality product. The greens don't make a bit of sense, however. They wilt and don't add any flavor. They also added additional salt to the pizza, which, when coupled with the naturally salty salumi, made things a bit too salty. Overall, a good product that can improved with relatively few tweaks.

In sum, intriguing new place. I like some aspects quite a lot. Some didn't work at all. I'll likely be back to give it another shot and try more of the menu.

Rating: 6/10 (5/10 is average).

Stango's Coffee Shop

Address: 221 South Chadbourne Street, San Angelo, Texas 76903. 325.659.8999.

Review: First things first, Stango's isn't a coffee shop, at least not in the modern sense of the phrase. It's more an old-timey soda fountain than anything else. And while I don't normally comment on ambiance, Stango's is filled with kitsch (in the good sense) from the past and old video and pinball games. It's a fun place to hang. Now, on to the food.

The lion's share of Stango's menu is dedicated to sodas and ice cream dishes. Sandwiches are about the only savory dishes served. I ordered the roast beef on wheat. 

The bread was solid, although not particularly toothsome. (My wife ordered the Italian on white, and the white bread was superior to my wheat.) The roast beef was a good deli quality roast beef, and the horseradish mayo, a classic accompaniment helped round things out. My favorite part of any deli-style sandwich is the pickle, and the pickle was quality. All around, a solid sandwich.

For those who don't know, San Angelo tap water tastes like death. Honestly, it's just plain awful. So, while I'm in San Angelo I have learned to drink soda the entire time. Today's soda choice was Diet Coke. Now, most soda shoot out of a mixing system in perfect industrial ratios, but not at Stango's. The nice woman behind the counter mixed the syrup with water and then added the soda water at the end. It was all very 1930s, and it was nice to see. The result is a soda with less carbonation and more syrup. Good stuff.

My wife and son bought an ice cream cone, of which I did not partake, but about which they said good things. My son also enjoyed his very first pinball game.

Solid, fun place for lunch or dessert.

Rating: 6/10

Tsunami

Address: 10722 South River Front Parkway, South Jordan, Utah 84095. 801.748.1178.

Review: Utah. Sushi. One of these things is not like the other. Well, actually, both of these things are not like the other. 

A week or so ago, we, as University of Nebraska Law School alums, invaded Tsunami during the lunch hour to get our sushi on. Since two members of our group served their Mormon missions in Tokyo, and since they picked the restaurant, I harbored higher-than-normal hopes for sushi in the Intermountain West. 

I began with the sashimi sampler. 

To be honest, I don't know enough about sushi and sashimi to give them an in-depth analysis. I just know I like them, and this sashimi I liked. The fish, while obviously not abundantly fresh, was still fresh as you can expect under the circumstances. The wasabi was light and wonderful. (I received assurances from the waiter that the wasabi was actually freshly grated wasabi, as opposed to the normal paste crap you get in supermarkets or other low-end Japanese restaurants.) The soy sauce was flavorful and not too salty. 

I followed my friend John's lead on the sushi and ordered what he ordered. One roll was blue fin tuna and nothing more. Simple. Unadorned. Great. The other was a fried roll, which I was somewhat reticent about, what with it being fried and all. It was the D.T.H. roll. It contained tuna, salmon (an odd choice for sushi far as I'm concerned, but that's because my father ran a salmon hatchery when I was a child), and yellowfin. It was warm, but none of the fish was cooked. While I prefer the purity of nigri, sushi, and unfried rolls, this was pretty good, and the crunch was a nice textural element not normally present. 

All in all, an enjoyable sushi meal.

Rating: 6.5/10 (5/10 is average).

Cork and Pig

Address: 2201 Knickerbocker Road, San Angelo, Texas 76904. 325.227.6988.

Review: Where, oh where, to eat in San Angelo, Texas? It's not in the Hill Country, so barbecue isn't king. It's not south enough to have great Tex Mex. It's sort of in the center of Texas, without a culinary identity.

Today, we tried Cork and Pig. Standard American fare, and quite a few specialty pizzas, were on the menu. 

I ordered the Cuban sandwich, which came with a roasted peanut coleslaw.

Let's begin by extolling the virtues of the coleslaw. Coleslaw is so often a gloopy, mayonnaisey mess. Not this. This coleslaw was light, crunchy, and full of interesting flavor. The roasted peanuts gave the dish a pad thai feel. I've never experienced a coleslaw like this before, and I'd love to experience it again, and again, and again.

The sandwich was not as successful as the slaw. Cuban sandwiches are all about contrast. Contrast of the fatty soft roasted pork with the acidic pickles, and the fatty ham with the mustard. The bread (the most important component of any sandwich) is pressed and grilled and dense. While the pork in this sandwich was beautifully roasted and flavorful, I was completely unable to taste the ham. The contrasting elements (i.e., the pickles and mustard) weren't prominent at all. Like the ham, I couldn't taste the Swiss cheese. I knew there was cheese, but it could have been mozzarella or any other mild cheese. The bread wasn't entirely pressed, and portions tasted like Wonder Bread.

I also partook of my brother-in-law's Southwestern pizza. I'm going to assume because they had pizzas like Margherita D.O.C. and the like, that they were going for a Neapolitan-style pizza. If that is the case, then the pizza was entirely unsuccessful. The crust had huge air pockets (which are very easy fixed). It was also thick and tough. The roasted green chiles were tasteless, so the only prominent flavor present was the pepperoni. The cheese was exceedingly mild, as was the cream sauce. It was all just bland.

My wife ordered the cheeseburger. Quickly, it needed salt, lots of salt. The bun was the best component of the dish. Toothy and structurally sound. The rest was, well, bland. Meh.

So, again I query: where, oh where, to eat in San Angelo, Texas?

Rating: 5/10 (5/10 is average).

Ekamai Thai

Address: 1405 E 2100 S, Salt Lake City, Utah 84105. 801.906.0908.

Review: Sometimes you go to a restaurant and have a few things, and when you think about it after the meal, you say to yourself, "Wow, I wish I had just ordered five plates of X." That's how I felt when my buddy Dan and I ate at Ekamai Thai, so I'm going to focus on the X dish.

In this case, X stands for fried calamari. (Noted: I love that a Thai restaurant calls the dish fried calamari, since calamari is an Italian word which somehow became popularized in America even though we could utilize the perfectly legitimate English word squid.) The calamari (see, there I go again) was all rings battered and fried in a very light and crunchy panko-style batter. It was accompanied by a sweet cilantro sauce. Initially, I wasn't altogether sure about the sauce. I like cilantro, but it overpowers easily, and I've never thought it went particularly well with seafood. The sauce was light and not overpowering at all, however. I was surprised how well it married with the ultra-light calamari. Not sure if it was the unexpectedness of liking the sauce so much, but this was one of the better calamari preparation I've eaten. And I say this as one who actually prefers the legs of the calamari to the rings. One can only imagine what this recipe would taste like if Utah were located next to a calamari-rich ocean. 

Wonderful dish.

Rating: Hot dang good fried calamari/10. 

Bistro 412

Address: 412 Main Street, Park City, Utah 84060. 435.649.8211.

Review: My parents are in town for Thanksgiving; so, naturally, my wife and I leave our child with them and escape to Park City for the evening. (Good thing they like our son more than they like us.) 

Our first thought for dinner was Ruth's Chris. However, we had just grilled some tasty T-bones and New York strips the night before, so the wife vetoed the yet-more-meat option. Not knowing the Park City scene, we texted a Park City friend for help. She suggested Wahso, but, alas, it was closed until after Thanksgiving. In the end, we decided on Bistro 412. A little French food every so often is good for the soul, after all.

We started with the escargot. It came in the classic escargot vessel covered in puff pastry. Each de-shelled snail was in its own little divot, swimming in butter and parsley.  

Now, you would think snails would possess a kind of earthy (read: dirt) taste, or possibly a slimy quality. Nothing could be further from the truth. They are nice and light, if a bit chewy. My wife, who steadfastly refuses to touch a snail, asked me what they taste like. "Snails" was about the best response I could muster. Honestly, I could have used a little more parsley in the dish, but it was thoroughly enjoyable as prepared.

And here's a gratuitous snail selfie. 

And then on to the main event: the lamb shank. Now, my wife vetoed the yet-more-meat option, but only for herself. I mean, how can one pass up a tender lamb shank topped with field mushrooms, and accompanied by pureed sweet potatoes and broccolini. The lamb was tender and of serious quality. The mushrooms, mmm. They were meaty in their own right. The sweet potatoes constituted the obligatory sweet component in every lamb dish, and it filled the bill perfectly. The broccolini were green and good, and I don't like broccoli. (As in, I think broccoli is a vile weed.) And the lamb jus. Sopping it up with a bit of the toothsome bread provided is what dreams are made of. Must, not, drool, at, thought, of, jus.

Oh, and we had some pommes frites. Good. Crispy. Garlicky. Nice compliment to the shank.

In all, an enjoyable meal. Score one for the yet-more-meat option.

Rating: 7.5/10 (5/10 is average).

Flatbread Neapolitan Pizzeria

Address: 1044 E 2100 S, Salt Lake City, Utah. 801.467.2180.

Review: I read an interview with Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia in which he lamented about how he felt like he was always making the same arguments and saying the same things. That's sort of how I feel when I review pizzerie. 

At this point I usually talk about the structure of the pizza, how pizza is really about the dough and about balance, as opposed to toppings. I may wax nostalgic about living in Italy and eating the best pizza in the world on spaccanapoli (it really is transcendent). This time I'm going to forgo all that and just talk.

I had the carpaccio to begin. It wasn't carpaccio. Carpaccio is a raw meat dish, and I received a cured meat with a bunch of arugula. Look, I get that sometimes dishes aren't what you quite expect, and you just have to take them as they come and analyze what is good and what might not be good about the dish you receive. This, however, was simply false advertising. Carpaccio is one of the best dishes served in Italy because the meat is raw, fresh, and deliciously tender. A heavy, cured, fatty product, lightened up with some greenery, is not equivalent. 

Next: the pizza.

The crust was tough, way too thick, and lacked any flavor at all. The meat was good quality. They had baked the pizza with so little tomato that it was dry as a bone. The basil was uncooked (as in they didn't put in on until after the pizza came out of the oven). Also the pizza hadn't been properly rotated in the oven, so one side was burned, while the other was not. This was a poorly executed pizza in every way. 

Just an unfortunate experience.

Rating: 3/10 (5/10 is average).

Penny Ann's Cafe

Address: 1810 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84115. 801.935.4760.

Review: About every month or so, a group of young attorneys picks a restaurant for our lunchtime get together. This month was Penny Ann's Cafe. The staff was exceedingly nice and accommodated our group with ease. What you understand the moment you enter Penny Ann's is that you will receive standard dineresque fare. There's nothing fancy about this joint, and thank heaven for that. And while lack of pretense is a good start, food is king. It is to this we now turn.

I began with the fried ravioli ("ravioli" is already plural, so, please, no more "raviolis").

Fried ravioli are what you expect: ravioli rolled in bread crumbs and fried. The quality of the fried ravioli is entirely dependent on the quality of the underlying ravioli. These ravioli tasted industrial, filled with gobs of mozzarella (kind of a non-standard choice as a filling), but lacking in any real taste. The sauce was equally blasé. (Note: of course diner fried ravioli are not haute cuisine (although they could be), but that doesn't mean blah components make a dish taste anything other than blah.)

Next up was the grilled Reuben. I asked for sourdough bread because me and rye, we no get along so well.   

The bread (i.e., where all sandwiches begin and end) was okay. Nice and crispy, but without any discernible sourdough flavor. The corned beef was okay; nothing special. The sauerkraut was unassertive to the point of not really being there. (Existential query of the day: when sauerkraut is just there to be there, then why is it there?) Couldn't taste the Swiss cheese at all, like at all. Man, to be honest, there just wasn't much to this sandwich.

Review: 4/10 (5/10 is average).

Trattoria Brown: Roasted Heirloom Tomato Sauce

With an abundance of heirloom tomatoes to use and/or preserve at the end of Salt Lake City's growing season, we have decided to make boatloads of tomato sauce. Now, this is a fairly standard preserving procedure, so we thought we'd get a little creative. Usually, tomato sauce consists of blanching tomatoes, removing the skin, and then canning them as is or cooking them down before canning. Honestly, however, I don't much like peeling tomatoes, and with this recipe you don't need to.

Ingredients

1.5 pounds fresh heirloom tomatoes

1 medium yellow onion

3 cloves garlic

2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt to taste

Pepper to taste

Directions

Preheat oven to 400 Fahrenheit. If your heirlooms are large, quarter them and place them on a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil of parchment paper (your choice) so they don't touch. If you are using smaller heirlooms, halve them. If they are cherry tomatoes, just put them on the baking sheet as is. Chop the onion into large pieces and place on baking sheet, along with garlic cloves. Salt and pepper to taste and drizzle olive oil over everything. It should look a little something like this:

 

(As you can see, we used a variety of heirlooms. Six different types to be precise. You can use one type or many, depending on your tastes.) 

Roasted in the oven for approximately 90 minutes, turning every thirty or so. When everything is roasted, place everything in a food processor and process until smooth. It is read to use at this point. You can also freeze the sauce in ziploc bags to use during those clod, tomato-less winter months. 

Chabaar

Address: 87 W 7200 S, Salt Lake City, Utah 84047. 801.566.5100.

Review: Thai food is good, there's no two ways about it. The sweet, the sour, the bitter, the spicy, the salt, all at the same time. It's like a complex little dance on your tongue. Mmm.

Chabaar fashions itself as Thai and beyond. I guess that's an ode to a Thai-American fusion cuisine, but, honestly, I'm not sure. We ordered standard Thai fare, and that was good enough for us.

I ordered the kow soi (here Chabaar's description of the dish: “More popular to Northern Thailand this curry is coconut gravy served over egg noodles topped with fresh shredded carrot, red onion, pickled mustard greens, basil, bean sprout, and lime.”).

Now, Chabaar's has an interesting heat index. It starts at 0 and goes to 10. They will not serve you anything above a 3 on your first visit. You will be thankful for this rule, as 3 is fairly hot. Not scorch your mouth hot, but hot enough to make things uncomfortable. I appreciated this because most Thai restaurants dissipate the heat so thoroughly for American palates that it really loses any bit of authenticity.

The kow soi was beautifully creamy and dark and rich. The egg noodles were what they were (i.e., filler), and the pork was thin and soft, if not somewhat indistinguishable from any other type of meat. The vegetable made the dish. The carrots were crisp and refreshing and livened the sauce's deep flavor. The pickled mustard greens did the same, although in a more mild and more acidic way. Quite enjoyable dish.

We also ordered the appetizer sampler, complete with fried tofu, fried and fresh spring rolls, cream cheese wontons,  and pot stickers.

Some items were more successful than others. My favorite (and I hate to admit this): the cream cheese wontons. They were airy, crispy, cheesy goodness. The pot stickers were also good, but a little too dry. Fried tofu. Who knew? Simple and light. Tofu will take on whatever flavor you wish, so the sauces really came through. Thankfully, the sauces were good. The spring rolls were okay. Nothing entirely special, although the fresh spring rolls were beautifully fresh.

My wife ordered the green curry. She quite enjoyed it, declaring it creamy with a mild curry flavor.

We enjoyed our meal, and we will be back.

Rating: 7/10 (5/10 is average).

Mountain West Burrito

Address: 1796 N 950 W, Provo, Utah 84604. 801.805.1870.

Review: Query: what does one do after securing a deserving father custody of his children in Heber in the morning, and securing an equally deserving father custody of his children in Orem in the afternoon? Why, one drives his car to Provo's local hookah emporium/organic burrito shop, of course.

In the now venerable vein of yuppifying that which is inherently not yuppie, Mountain West Burrito has taken local, organic (read: yuppie) ingredients and shoved them in an equally yuppie flour shell. It's all very Upper West Side Provo. And, all joking aside, it's pretty darn good.

(Now, just a quick word on the whole organic, sustainable, micro-regional, we-will-only-use-produce-trucked-in-on-the-back-of-an-organically-grown-grass-fed-yak fad we have going on today. Who in the Hades cares? Food is foremost about taste. If food tastes good, then it is done right. If it is not, then no manner of feel-good growing practices can change that mediocrity.)

I ordered the steak burrito with roasted veggies. It came with a side of home-made chips, pico de gallo, and a green salsa.

The first bite announced immediately that this was a good burrito. The steak was tender and flavorful. The pinto beans were soft (not mushy) and tasty, which is difficult for a pinto bean in my experience. the tortilla was thin and resilient and added that farinaceous quality you want in a good burrito. The cheese lent heft and gooeyness. It was a good bite.   

As I progressed and thought more about the burrito, I noticed the vegetables: a medley of squashes more than anything else. They were roasted, but, honestly, they were steamed. There was none of the beautiful char you desire in a beautifully roasted vegetable. That char is what lends flavor and depth, and that was lacking here. For that matter, I notice the same to be true of the steak. Now, I imagine the idea of the steak was to be incredibly juicy, which is was, and that came at the loss of some flavor. (Of course, what I'm saying is merely a proxy for stating my preference regarding how one should cook a steak burrito. Mountain West went a different way, and their way worked well.)

A tale of two salsas. First, the pico de gallo. Okay, fairly tasteless. Meh. Second, the green. Hot, but not too hot. Wonderfully flavorful. Acidic. Great compliment to the heaviness of the steak and other heavy ingredients. Money.

The chips. Quite good. Light, with some heft. Crispy. Not overtly flavored.

In sum, good meal. I ate it all with gusto. Obviously, my preferences are slightly different, but Mountain West crafts good foodstuffs. 

Rating: 7/10 (5/10 is average).

Oh Mai Vietnamese Sandwich Kitchen

Address: (1) 3425 South State Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84115, 801.467.6882; (2) 6093 South Highland Drive, Salt Lake City, Utah 84121, 801.277.9888.

Review: Moment of complete honesty: I have eaten a bánh mì at exactly two establishments; therefore, I know exceedingly little about this French-Vietnamese fusion sandwich. Well, I do know one thing: if French Colonialism succeeded at nothing else, it succeeded at creating one dang good sandwich. 

Oh Mai Vietnamese Sandwich Kitchen makes relatively few things: bánh mì and pho far as I can tell. I like pho, but I come to Oh Mai for the sandwiches, and they is tasty. Imagine a sandwich built on a classic baguette then filled with all manner of Asian goodies. There's cucumber, pickeled daikon and carrots, cilantro, kimchee (depending on the sandwich), sliced jalapeños, etc. Then there's the meat. It's uniformly good and juicy. I have tried the cold cuts, the curried chicken, the shredded pork, the ribeye, and enjoyed them all. My favorite sandwich, however, is the short ribs. The meat is smothered in a sweet glaze, and the sandwich is loaded with a good and not to overpowering kimchee, and all the usual vegetables described above. The sweet and savory meat with the crispy beautiful vegetables, all topped with siracha. Mmm, love, tasty, tasty love. This is, bar far, my favorite quick lunchtime treat.

Now, I must say, when Oh Mai initially opened, they had some troubles with the bread. It was often overcooked and tough. They seem to have fixed that problem now. And while it's not a killer baguette, its crustiness is exactly what you want with that beautiful meat.

Again, I have absolutely no idea how authentic these sandwiches are, and I don't pretend to know. What I do know, however, is these sandwiches are money.

Go now. Go often. It good.

Rating: 7.5/10 (5/10 is average)

Cucina Vanina

Address: 1844 E Fort Union Blvd, Salt Lake City, Utah. 801.938.9706.

Review: Nomenclature is important. For instance, the word "South" means different things in different parts of the world. In the United States it refers (at the very least) to the area below the Mason-Dixon Line. In Italy, South usually refers to the area below Rome. Of course, if you're a member of Lega Nord, it might mean anything below Bologna, or, heck, maybe Trento, who knows with those people. 

It was with this in mind that I was somewhat perplexed when we arrived at Cucina Vanina and saw the following on the restaurant minivan out front (to their eternal credit, there was a restaurant Fiat 500 immediately adjacent to the minivan): "A culinary tour of Southern Italy." This statement was juxtaposed against the following nightly special announced on the chalk stand next to the front door: "spaghetti alla Bolognese." These two things are completely incongruous. A restaurant touting itself as a specialist in Southern Italian cooking should have nothing whatsoever to do with spaghetti alla Bolognese. Bolognese cuisine is a world apart from that of Southern Italy. It is based on different ingredients and requires a completely different cooking style. You wouldn't expect good shrimp and grits from a chef in Fargo, North Dakota, and you shouldn't expect good spaghetti alla Bolognese from a Southern Italian restaurant. This was an ominous beginning.

After discussion, my wife and I ordered bruschetta al pomodoro (bruschetta with tomatoes), insalata di rucola e finocchio (salad of arugula and fennel with shaved parmigano reggiano), ravioli con sugo di pomodoro (cheese ravioli with tomato sauce), and involtino di carne (roulade of beef stuffed with prosciutto and mozzarella, served with oven-roasted potatoes and a light arugula salad). 

Before the bruschetta arrived, we were given bread (a form of focaccia, it seemed) and what the server called "Italian salsa."



The salsa was excellent. Pungent, smooth, acidic. The bread was obviously house made, and somewhat wonder-bready with a firmer crust. Nothing terribly authentic about it, unlike the sauce, which is still making me drool. 

The bruschetta al pomodoro had as its base, the same bread as that described above. Thankfully, however, the tomatoes utilized were beautifully fresh heirloom cherry tomatoes from a local grower.



The tomatoes were dressed simply, with olive oil and basil. Wonderfully vibrant. The dish was served with a side of the ormai obligatory, and completely unnecessary, balsamic reduction. This bruschetta was the highlight of the meal. 

The insalata was, well, an insalata with arugula and fennel and shaved parm.



Salads like this are limited by the quality of ingredients. The ingredients here were fine, hence, the salad was fine.

The ravioli, hmm.



Ravioli are meant to be light with a little filling to compliment the pasta, and lightly sauced. These were none of those things. The pasta was extraordinarily thick and the edges had not been cooked all the way through (they were very tough). They were filled with copious amounts of okay ricotta. There was far too much sauce for the four ravioli (and $17.95 for four ravioli? Seriously? Four?). Everything that could be wrong with a raviolo was wrong here. Very poor execution.

The involtini were blah.



The first one (of only three, mind you) was fairly gamey. The predominant flavor, oddly, was that of mozzarella. The prosciutto was indiscernible (my wife had no idea it was there until I told her). The oven-roasted potatoes had no flavor, none. No rosemary, no parm, no salt, nothing. $19.99 for three involtini and tasteless potatoes? Come on. 

In fine, some excellent elements, but poor overall execution and flavor. Oh, and the Southerness of the menu. It's sort of Southern. There is a variety of seafood dishes, some of which are certainly Southern, but many of the dishes are straight Northern fare, or simply American (e.g., spaghetti and meatballs). 

Rating: 4/10 (5/10 is average).