The Honeymoon stage with Urban Kitchen's Cucina Urbana

This will be the freshest review yet. I waited a couple days between the dining experience and the write-up of it in previous blogs, but that was until last night. That was when Cucina Urbana dazzled my socks off. Walking through the front door, down that awesome stair case into that marvelously lit dining room made me feel like I rolled into a dim lit speakeasy in the 1920's, the light wasn't so dim as to be dark, but it created a feeling of warmth and nostalgia. I was instantly put at ease. I went on Sunday, so NO CORKAGE. Whoohoo! You see, Cucina, as I now lovingly call it has a region of their dining room called "the wine cellar." In that wine cellar are awesome wines at retail price, which on any normal night would have a 7 dollar corkage for dine in. Though still a good deal, it was not as good a deal as getting a 2008 Au Bon Climat Pinot Noir for 23 dollars. This is a wine I've paid 14 dollars a glass for at a wine bar. This is good. The wine had big fruit, was easy drinking, and retained its smooth character no matter what we ate. It was in place of drinking white for the night, and it worked well.

Back to the eating.

We started with a Burrata Vasi. The Vasi are little mason jars full of goodies like gorgonzola walnut mousse and sundried tomato, or hummus and piquillo jam. The Burrata is a blend of burrrata cheese, olive oil and fresh herbs and is so salty. Not a bad salty, mind you, a savory sea saltiness. Almost like grey sea salt. It was awesome. The cheese was stringy and soft, easily spreadable. It was served with baguette and a toasted bread that I believe had some sort of wheat origin and had seeds. Too tasty. After this we moved onto the BBQ Octopus. I went down this path on a whim, but I was incredibly happy with the results. It had perfectly barbecued octopus, seared and crisp around the edges. It was served with a arugula and endive salad with mandarin oranges, radishes, and what appeared to be like a baby octopus tenticle sashimi. It was dressed well. For those of you who are cringing right now, you really have to try it anyway, Maybe not the baby octopus part, but the main barbecued part for sure. My dining partner said, and I quote, " I never knew octopus could taste like that." It's so tender. Almost indescribable.

Next it was onto our main course. We both had pasta and took the advice of our server, David A, and got his suggestion of Pesto Ravioli and Short Rib Peppardelle. Okay, like too freaking good. David described the ravioli as light and luxurious and it truly was. The pesto sauce was full of fresh basil flavor, and ricotta inside was like eating a pillow. Presentation, amazing, texture, perfect. The peppardelle rocked my world. Everything was so tender and the pasta soaked up a good amount of juice from the meat. The mushrooms were a little too awesome to be served just as part of a meal. I mean, I could've eaten a whole bowl of just those mushrooms. When David was describing the pappardelle, he said a bunch of other stuff I can't remember now,  but he sold me at Epic. It was quite that. It wasn't a meal I could eat everyday, but when dining out one is not looking for the mundane.

This experience was one of the most awesome experiences I've had dining out. The atmosphere, the service and the comfort were all amazing. The food was expertly prepared and David's descriptions were dead on. What do I like the most? It's hard to decide, but if I absolutely had to choose, it would be the amazing wine selection, the great service and the good food. The flow of courses can make or break a good meal and this was perfect. Everything tasted delicious and fresh, perfectly seasoned. There was salt and pepper on the table I think were there as a joke. It didn't need anything.

For dessert, we shared a Tiramisu Cocktail. David said it was naughty and it was. Almost pure alcohol, yet it tasted just like tiramisu. Lately drinking dessert has been just as exciting as eating it. I've recently been following meals with Grasshoppers and limoncelllos. It adds a nice twist to the euphoria experienced after a good meal. I'd say it's downright psychoactive.

This is a place for both the experience and unexperienced palate. There are simple flavors and there are big ones. They all work very well together, but what I noticed the most is that texture did not come second to flavor. They both played equally in each dish, but this characteristic was most notable in the Pesto Ravioli. They were pillows handed down from the gods for our consumption. It was hands down my favorite pasta I've ever eaten, and definitely the best ravioli. The way everything played together is just awesome. Couldn't have asked for more, except for maybe a larger stomach, and a few more hours to do it all over again.

This is my first visit and upon going back I would like to try more, perhaps an entree perhaps a pizza. The point is that this was a great evening, and I'm almost scared to go back for fear that it won't be as delicious, or perfect. It's almost like my honeymoon stage with Cucina. I met her, I love her, and I married her all in one fell swoop, Now we're in Maui drinking Mai Tais in the sunset in our swimsuits, soon to go back to our suite with clean linens and the cool ocean waves echoing in the distance. Can this be replicated again? I certainly hope so. This is the beginning of a great relationship with Cucina Urbana. There are ups and downs in our future, but in the end hopefully we will both be happy.

Cafe Chloe and Espionage

Oh Cafe Chloe, I think I would like you a lot more if I didn't know for a fact that you rip off all your ideas, decor and possibly your food from other popular restaurants. Fact is though, I don't like you and it's not just because of that. Now, granted I ordered soup & salad, nothing too extravagant, but the soup reminded me of something that I couldn't quite put my finger on until now. It tasted like someone bought one of those boxed soups you see at Trader Joe's, Whole foods, Henry's and other health food stores and watered it down, and served it to me in a lion-faced gourd, which I feel would have been more appropriate for a shrubbery. Seriously though, it tasted like watered down Roasted Red pepper and Tomato, I swear. Making soup is not that hard. It involves a large pot, maybe some stock, and a lot of simmering and reducing. I can do this at home. Cafe Chloe, I'm sure you have a kitchen somewhere.  The salad was good however. Nice little cucumber, some fun little tri-colored tomatoes, a light vinagrette. The bread was good, as well. It tasted very fresh. The Mac was good. A little bleu cheese, some pancetta, good, but I would've liked to taste a bit more bleu, but that is only because my palate is ridiculous and I eat gorgonzola like it is candy.

It wasn't the watered down soup, or even the rickety chair, or the fact that I got carded for the first time at a restaurant in like a year and couldn't order the lavender mimosa I wanted, but the kinda, well, there is no nice way to put this, spotty service for a small place. I don't know if it was the cold and bitter wind whipping up through the urban canyons in between the skyscrapers, but I just didn't feel welcomed. I won't swear off this place entirely like I have done with several others *cough* Parkhouse Eatery *cough.* I will give it another chance, and I don't blame the server for one main reason. There seemed to be a major emphasis on cute. However, cute is not comfortable when you try to jam too many cute little tables into a cute little space. It creates a cute little cluster fuck for your cute little staff. So, with that said I have one last thought:

I'm watching you Cafe Chloe. Come up with something that is yours, something that you own, that you are known for. This is only my first visit, and I wasn't really impressed with anything, and to be honest I hadn't really heard much about you other than your name and the fact that you steal ideas. That's it. Nothing on your menu called my name. It was just kind of well, average. Average may cut it for the uneducated Foodie, but for a seasoned diner, such as myself, it's really not worth my time.

Remember, One More Chance, Chloe, that's all you get because I am not a Foodie, I'm not here for the novelty, I'm here to eat and it better be good.

Alchemy and a statement of purpose.

Why we are here on this planet is, first and foremost, to enjoy it. The abundance of flavors and culture that lay before us is nearly infinite and, some of us, will barely leave the things we know well, chicken, ketchup, french fries, a cheeseburger. Not to say that these things are all that bad. They are absolutely delicious. However, to not jump outside of that is just atrocious. Fear not, my champions of the mediocre and mundane, there is something much worse than you: The Foodie.
The Foodie is one of the most awful parts of social networking to come to life since the first myspace pages were created. This creature probably "yelps," is probably not someone with any sort of authority in the industry, bases opinion largely on assumptions, and most importantly, has horrible taste. They also frequent popular food spots and hope to get a "taste" for "cheap."
If you are not willing to spend money on what you try, forget it. If the service is shit, it's probably because you weren't worth the time. If you order a girly drink, you won't get drunk. It's all this common sense crap that The Foodie misses.
This blog is for those of us that are serious. It's not just that we love going out to eat, we know what we like. We don't order something just because we hear about it. If the dish has 5 things we know we dislike, we are not going to order it. We will be polite and courteous to the staff. We will order what we want and not worry about the consequences of those orders. We will eat it and it will be good, because we are educated in the matters of quality consumption. Some of us are industry, some of us are lifelong subscribers to this philosophy. The point is that if you haven't been in it, known someone who has been in it, or don't care to learn about it than you are just a hole to put things in. You don't fully appreciate the work that has been done to put that piece of deliciousness in that hole.

And that is why you may be a Foodie, but I Am Not.

On to happier places.....

Alchemy is loosely translated as taking a common, mundane substance and turning it into gold, or something just as valuable. This little restaurant in South Park has truly done so. It's so freaking comfortable. It's cozy, and warm, and all around awesome. Now, where most places will have a fried calamari with cocktail, or tartar sauce, Alchemy's Calamari de Cadiz is sauteed with a saffron butter, and served with not nearly enough bread, but I'll manage. I will drink the excess broth if necessary. I don't mind the lack of  bread though, because it frees up stomach space for other deliciousness. Their new street food section of the menu makes everything sound wonderful, but I went for the samosas. They were fried and full of peas and potato with this awesome spicy green sauce that had hints of cinnamon and maybe cardamom. Don't quote me on that, but these definitely caught the happy end of the Indian food spectrum. I take that back. I don't think Indian food has a sad side, but if it did this would've been the happy side.
The most incredible thing about this place: If I order a burger medium-rare, it hits my table medium-rare. Not to mention that it has spanish Mahon cheese on it, and that there is enough cheese on it to make little stringies hang out of your mouth when you take a bite. Too good. If it doesn't make stringies there is not enough cheese. Their Pernil aka chimichurri pork shoulder is fall off the bone tender. You just don't see this type of quality. Service is always epic here, but Sabrina is too freakin sweet to leave out of this. My dining partner and I love her. She has been our server twice and so far she is the best, which would make her, the best of the best because like I said the service is epic.

There is a drink here that has become one of my all-time favorites. It is almost "buy the ingredients so I can make it at home" good. That's really good, because the ingredients are strange ones. Zubrowka Bison Grass  Vodka, Dubonnet, and egg whites, oh yes, egg whites. I should say that pregnant women should not eat raw eggs, but well, let's be honest, you probably shouldn't be drinking either. This drink is like naughty cream soda, and it is called the Bitter Buffalo, which is a little reminiscent of Modest Mouse lyrics, which is my fav band and the reason I ordered this in the first place. The only reason I don't make them at home is because occasionally, I have to leave and work, or do other activities that allow me to lead a life. not a good life mind you, just a life.

On that note, I bid you adieu and suggest you try Alchemy if you have a serious appreciation for quality and locality of ingredients, otherwise, go to Hodad's ya fucking foodie.