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).

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).