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).

Faces

Address: 659 North 300 West, Salt Lake City, Utah 84103. 801.596.0344.

Review: "You want to go to lunch, Marco?"

"Sure. Where do you want to go?"

"There's this place called 'Faces'."

"Face? Really? That's the name? What kind of food do they serve?"

"Good Southern food: fried catfish, po' boys. They even to Philly cheesesteaks."

"Let's do it."

And so my buddy Greg and I left the Bountiful District Court and headed to Faces. Apparently, Faces used to be located in some dive bar that went under because the building couldn't pass code inspection. Well, that's what I initially thought when I approached the place. The paint job looked thirty years old. The windows were blacked out. There was an old storage shed in the back that could have housed gremlins. I love places like this.

Upon entering Faces, one sees a greasy spoon, completed with soap operas on the television and paper menus. The proprietors (a lovely black-American couple from, well we get to that in a minute) were salt-of-the-earth types, cooking food they grew up with. And that food is down home Southern, with a touch of East Coast. Shrimp po' boys, fish po' boys, fried catfish, hushpuppies, and smoked sausages made in house. These are some of the mainstays. 

I had a fish po' boy. The fish was breaded with cornmeal and fried to perfection. It was juicy and flaky, if not the tastiest fish under the sun. the bread was soft and airy and exceedingly white, with a flaky crust. The fish was covered in coleslaw. Topped with some hot sauce and mayo and this was a solid, satisfying sandwich.

Before we left, we engaged the husband/cook in conversation. My buddy (who knows him pretty well) told him I'd be back for the cheesesteak. I then asked him if he puts Cheez Whiz on his cheesesteaks. The response was a resounding no, followed by a history lesson regarding how Cheez Whiz was not a standard cheesesteak topping until relatively recently. He then told me where to find the best cheesesteak in Philly (the location is locked in my brain awaiting my next East Coast vacation). And while I like Whiz on my steak, I can't wait to return to Faces to give their non-Cheez Whiz version a taste.

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

Brio Tuscan Grille

Address: 80 Regent Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. 801.359.4401.

Review: If you have read any of my past review, you know I am no fan of American Italian restaurants. Their cuisine is usually based on Italian-American cuisine, not actual Italian cuisine. (There is a world of difference between the two.) They also are usually of nominal quality (compare to 95% of Chinese restaurants you have frequented in your life). And the situation is usually worse when the restaurant is a chain. This is why it's always surprising when you find an Italian restaurant that works, even if not fully.

After a divorce mediation that went a big nowhere, a few of us jaunted to Brio to give it a try. The outdoor patio was a perfect spot to enjoy a couple appetizers. 

First was the fried calamari frito misto. A true frito misto usually includes a number of different types of seafood, as well as other fried items (e.g., fried lemon slices). This was more limited, with fried calamari and peperoncini. There were two sauces: a beautiful aioli and an obligatory tomato sauce. (Why in the world anyone eats tomato sauce with calamari is beyond me.) The bater was light. The calamari were soft and flavorful. The aioli was garlicky, lemony, and mayonnaisey: i.e., everything it should be. 

Second, we tried the beef carpaccio with mustard aioli and capers. Carpaccio is all about the beef. There is no possible way one could be good without good quality beef. This beef was good. I mean, it's not like eating a carpaccio of chianina in Tuscany, but it was tasty and wonderfully light. The aioli was pungent and mustardy. There were some greens on top dressed with olive oil, which made little sense to me. carpaccio is decidedly light by nature. It doesn't need greens to make it lighter yet. Good beef, good aioli: it's all you need, and Brio had that. 

Next up was the wedge salad with blue cheese dressing and bacon. This was a very un-Italian dish, and it shouldn't be on the menu. Wedge salads have a fairly low ceiling (in other words, they can only be so good), and this was no different. It was okay, just like every other wedge salad. I must say, however, you ever serve anything like this in Italy and call it a salad, Marlon Brando will come back from the dead and cap you while you're getting massage. 

Finally, we sampled the lobster bisque. There is this fantastically funny scene in "Seinfeld" in which Elaine is asked about her date with a new man-crush. She indicated they got frisky, and that the lobster bisque was the best part of the date. (It's way funnier when you watch it, trust me.) Well, the lobster bisque was not the best part of anything here. Too viscous. Too salty. Not enough lobster flavor.  

So, on the scorecard Brio was two for four. Honestly, not bad for an American Italian restaurant. The two good dishes were quite good.

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

Bambara

Address: 202 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101. 801.363.5454.

Review: I have an opinion about high-priced dining in Salt Lake. Now, admittedly, this opinion is based on incomplete data since I haven't eaten at every restaurant in city (and there are a number of exceptions to what I'm about to say), but I've experienced enough of a cross-section the I'm fairly confident in its veracity. Here it is: Salt Lake has quite a variety of very good lower-priced and middle-priced restaurants; however, its high-priced restaurants, while good, are good, not great.

Bambara is a perfect example.

My son and I went on a whim one evening after strolling around downtown. The atmosphere was elegant, simple, modern. The menu is modern American. So good so far. My son is a man on simple tastes, so he ordered plain noodles with cheese. I ordered the bacon-wrapped filet with summer tomatoes, a sourdough crouton, olive tapenade, charred onions, Maytag blue cheese (which topped the fillet) and some bone marrow. As you can see, it was a beautifully presented dish.

Elements of the dish were as tasty as they were pretty. For example, the fillet itself was perfectly medium-rare, soft, and gorgeously fulfilling. The bacon wrap was a needless crutch that added nothing to the fillet (this is pretty much the case with all bacon wraps surrounding steaks). On the other hand, the Maytag was light and luscious and added just enough blueness to the steak to enhances its flavor.

The tomatoes were of two varieties: beefsteak and cherry. Both were perfectly ripe. The beefsteaks were a meaty, acidic counterpoint to the fillet. (You could almost sense a little whimsy in the choice of a vegetable steak opposite an animal steak on the same plate.) The cherry tomatoes added a nice sweetness and contrast with the more savory beefsteaks, as well as with the very salty (we'll get to this in a minute) fillet and bone marrow.

The bone marrow was exquisite. Perfectly cooked, its fattiness spread wonderfully on the house bread. Among the best I've had.

Elements of the dish did not live up to its plating. For example, the olive tapenade was misplaced and only served to muddle the taste of the tomatoes over which it was lathered (I removed it after finishing the first slice of tomato). It also added a fair amount of saltiness to the dish. This would have been fine if the dish needed salt, but it was over-salted without the tapenade. In fact, there was so much salt that the grilled sourdough crouton, on which the fillet sat, and which soaked up the steak's juices and the tapenade, was salted beyond any pleasantness.

All in all, I enjoyed this dish. The bone marrow was wonderful. The steak was quality. The tomatoes sang. The other issues transformed it from a wonderful and simple summer steak dish into a good steak that shouldn't cost what it did.

Rating: 7.5/10 (5/10 is average).
  

Epic Casual Dining

Address: 707 Fort Union Boulevard, Midvale, Utah 84047. 801.748.1300.

Review: I thought about crafting this review using iambic pentameter, or, more boldly, iambic pentameter within a terza rima. That would have been all Dantesque and whatnot, but the subject matter has to warrant such linguistic exertion. This subject matter, unfortunately, does not. Maybe I'll save terza rima for the copious multitudes of Napton pizzerie we will be frequenting next summer. For now, the following couplet will suffice:

We journeyed in search of a succulent steak experience;

What we found left us perplexed and delirious.

(Yes, I know, it's an approximate rhyme. Sue me. I'm tired.)

By way of explanation, the waitress recommended the grilled beef tenderloin. "People come for miles around to eat it," she said. "Okay," I replied, "Let's do it. Medium rare. And can I have the creamed spinach?" A "sure" escaped her lips. And so, the die was cast. 

The steak, cooked to medium rare perfection, came practically affogato in a port reduction that lacked depth or much flavor. The steak itself lacked salt (a common theme, as wel shall see) and had a grainy texture on the tongue. The mashed potatoes, pleasantly extruded from a piping bag, were piping cold. The creamed spinach was the best part of the dish. It was mustardy and creamy with a bit of bite still present. One element does not a dish make, however.

My wife ordered the angel hair pasta with a cream sauce, sun-dried tomatoes, chicken, mushrooms, etc. Heavy is the word that sums up this dish. Nothing lightened the palet. There were no tastes to counterbalance the cream and fat. And it was entirely undersalted.

Ultimately, there just wasn't much there.

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

Los Molcajetes

Address: 4031 W 4100 S, Salt Lake City, UT 84120.

Review: There's something magical about hole-in-the-wall joints. So often they're among the best food you ever have. They're entirely unpretentious. They're cheap. They're usually focused on food, and not on worthless things like cleanliness and tablecloths. Such is Los Molcajetes (Molcajetes).

I came to know of Molcajetes from a Mexican friend whose food opinion I deeply trust. Apparently, he and his family stumbled upon this place one evening, and it so impressed them they returned the next morning for breakfast. With an endorsement like that, how could I not partake?

Molcajetes is sandwiched between a Mexican grocery store, which come to find out is also quite good, and a hair salon. It's almost impossible to find unless you're looking right at it. Having come from work, I walked in with my pasty white skin enveloped by a Hugo Boss suit. I didn't quite fit in this working-class Mexican restaurant where the proprietress spoke only limited English. None of this was to matter in ten minutes. So, fumbling around with my limited Spanish, I managed to order a taco plate, complete with three tacos (carne adobado, cabeza, and carnitas), rice, and beans. My buddy ordered a cheese quesadilla plate. 

The tacos were good. The meats were tender, juicy, and flavorful. Not the best tacos I've had (that distinction is reserved for some taco truck guys around the city), but they were quite good. The tortilla were nice and crisped. The rice, like all rice one receives at a Mexican restaurant, was blah. I'm not sure why this is, but it seems like all these rices just filler. Anyway, after these two items, I thought I was in for a good, but nothing spectacular, Mexican meal. And then, the beans. Holy crap, the beans. I'm not sure what magic fairy dust they sprinkled over these beans, but they were very likely the best I have ever had. Only some Brazilian black beans and some Southern smoked ham hock beans even come close. The beans were earthy, meaty, viscous, and deeply satisfying. I polished off mine with gusto, and then turned to my friend's. He's not much of a bean guy, so I ate his entire portion. Fabulous, fabulous beans.

We also had horchata, which was sugary goodness, as it always is.

I hope next time I find an entree I enjoy more than the tacos, but it won't rightly matter, because I ain't going back for the entrees. I'm going back for those beans.

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