Shiraz

Pop Quiz

What do the following actions have in common?

1) Evading the police in a foreign country
2) Stealing a live octopus
3) Eating Persian food
4) Experimenting with LSD
5) Whaling without a permit
6) Extreme Ironing

Nope, these aren’t the reasons I can no longer travel to Guatemala.

They are all things that, until last Friday, I had never tried. I know what you’re thinking - “How can a man arrive at the age of 26 having never attempted extreme ironing!” It’s simple: I’m not British and never found the need to combine the thrill of mountaineering with the satisfaction of a well pressed shirt. That’s just me, though I have great respect for those who risk life and limb for the sake of juxtaposing the mundane with the perilous.

Kidding aside, I’m fairly certain that last Friday was the first time I had knowingly experienced Persian food. Sure, we’ve all had hummus, but that’s like pretending to be fluent in French just because you can say “bonjour”.

You might be asking yourself “If this guy has never tried Persian food, how can he accurately review the restaurant and why would I care about his opinion?”

Huh.

Quite a quandary you’ve got there.

I made a reservation for our group of 9 at 8pm and was surprised that we were the first ones in the restaurant. This seems like a good location (McCullough at the Olmos Park traffic circle) so it seemed odd to be so sparsely populated on a Friday night.

We were treated to a some pita bread with feta cheese and parsley as a starter. Immediately recognizing us as virgin Persian diners, the waitress (owner/manager?) noted that we should mix the parsley and basil with the feta cheese as it isn’t intended as garnish.

I ordered Kofta (a middle-eastern meatball) stuffed with feta cheese as an appetizer and I’m glad I did. It was really good, with the downside being that I wanted more.

The waitress was helpful in describing the differences between the four available lamb dishes on the menu, and I chose one which was delicately referred to as “a simple and popular middle eastern comfort food”. Excellent! Now I can say that not only have I tried Persian food, but I’ve had Persian comfort food.

It took every ounce of my willpower not to grab the lamb shank by the bone and chow down like a Neanderthal. Years of training (thanks mom!) convinced me to use my knife which proved to be a simple task. The meat fell off like a prom dress and was tasty and tender. This quality hunk of meat was juicy (a marinade, I presume) and full of lamb-tastic flavor.

Dessert was a dish called “Bastani” which consisted of vanilla ice cream flavored with rosewater and saffron. Phillip’s first impression was to whisper “this tastes like soap”, before devouring the entire bowl. After the initial surprise of tasting floral ice cream it proved to be very good and a well complemented set of flavors.

These were unusual flavors to me. And because they’re unusual I’ll likely crave them again, if for no other reason than my desire for culinary promiscuity. Mey and I got out for about $75 without booze (part of my bi-annual boycott of red wine).

Next week I’ll press an oxford shirt while scaling the Matterhorn and knock another one off my list…..

Food: 4 Cuy
Service: 4 Cuy
Ambiance: 3.5 Cuy
Value: 3.5 Cuy

Overall:

.

.

Dating a granola girl who listens to NPR? Bring her and her turtleneck here for a quiet evening to discuss endangered species and global strife.

La Fonda on Main

San Antonio is a wonderful place.

In a city replete with Mexican restaurants one can’t help but to compare them to one another. And as with all facets of capitalism, competition should better the breed.

So why has La Fonda on Main not been replaced by a Taqueria Jalisco #873 in the past 70 years?

I think it’s the same reason that monkeys are still around: evolution leaves some amusing stragglers.

This restaurant is housed in a beautiful Spanish building from the 1930’s erected in the architecturally grandiose neighborhood of Monte Vista. I’ve always been a sucker for Spanish architecture, but with every new McMansion these days looking like a Macaroni Grill, it’s nice to see a more vintage example. The courtyard looked like a great place to relax with a margarita, and although we were seated inside in a corner the ambiance was still pleasant and casual.

We were greeted by a nice hostess who made me imagine what Frida Kahlo would look like if she were still alive. I ordered a Cuba Libre (aka Rum & Coke) which didn’t have enough alcohol in it to liberate a conservative like me, much less the nation of Cuba.

Next up was an appetizer of Queso Fundido con Hongos y Chorizo (Melted Cheese with Mushrooms and Sausage). The queso was very good and had a thick, stringy consistency which required creativity to keep from losing chips inside the dip. All in all, it was a worthwhile endeavor for a mushroom lover like me.

I went with the Redfish Veracruzana for the main course, which at $14 seemed a tad overpriced for what I got. The flavor from the olives overwhelmed (rather than complemented) the fish, and the plate was mediocre. Mey had the Shrimp a la Plancha and confirmed the unexceptional quality.

The service was standard and matter-of-fact, and it seemed like the waitstaff was spread thinly enough that pleasantries were superfluous. I can’t really blame the waitress for that on a busy Friday night, but I feel there’s room for improvement.

Mey ordered tres leches for dessert, and we both had some coffee. The dessert looked great. But looks can be deceiving, and it was as uninspired as the main course.

So back to my original question – Why hasn’t this place been replaced with Taqueria Jalisco #1086? *Note that 213 more have been built since you started reading this review.

Well, it’s a beautiful restaurant in a great neighborhood teeming with history. John Wayne and three American presidents once ate here….but not simultaneously. I can see why La Fonda has such a following in a traditional city like San Antonio. The food’s not terrible, and I am glad I gave it a shot.

Food: 2 Cuy
Service: 2.5 Cuy
Value: 2 Cuy
Ambiance: 3.5 Cuy

Overall:

.

.

Are you dating someone who:
a) doesn’t live in San Antonio and
b) hasn’t tried much Mexican food and
c) is a big fan of John Wayne or Dwight Eisenhower?
Then bring her here! Otherwise Paloma Blanca is right around the corner.

Valentino's Di Olmos

Some things are best when simple and not overdone.

The architecture of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.

A Patek Phillipe wrist watch.

The minimalism of a Rothko.

The understated beauty of a vintage Porsche 911.

This blog

...and the Italian food at Valentino’s di Olmos.

Perhaps I’m exaggerating to put this new restaurant in such bold company. But you get what I’m getting at.

After opening the massive front door, Mey and I found Phillip conspicuously flirting with the twenty-something hostess. “You absolutely MUST go to 6^th street in Austin” he told her while holding eye contact for an uncomfortably long time.

Ummm…okay, so who’s hungry?

We found our way to a lovely table on the covered patio on this splendid summer evening. The outdoor seating left me only wanting a better view (Earl Street isn’t exactly the Mediterranean), but the patio is large enough that you’re really more focused on your surroundings (or in Phillip’s case, the hostess). Table spacing was generous, and the restaurant wasn’t very busy for a Saturday night.

We tried to order some oysters as an appetizer, but unfortunately the hurricane took out their oyster shipment. I know thousands of homes in the gulf coast have been ravaged, but when Ike threatens the supply of aphrodisiacal mollusks it really makes you step back and think about things.

The waiter recommended the mussels which were sautéed in an Irish whiskey cream sauce. These were spectacular. I would have finished the entire plate myself if it were not for my like-minded tablemates. I was then in the troubling position of being grateful for the Hurricane’s disastrous oyster influence. Now I can’t get the image of an oyster farmer standing in line at a soup kitchen out of my head.

After such decadent hors d’oeuvre, I was ready to drink whatever kool-aid the waiter suggested next. It just happened that one of the specials was a filet mignon with shrimp in an herb butter sauce. Without even asking the price, I jumped at the opportunity to sample this ensemble. My impulsive nature got the better of me, and when the check came I apprehensively scanned it for my steak to find that I had paid a handsome $37 sum for my entrée.

As far as living in the moment goes; it could have been worse. At least I didn’t wake up in a strange place with vague regret the next morning. We’ve all been there…...

The shrimp were great, the steak was good (not Ruth’s Chris good, but still very good) and still full of flavor thanks to a cook that knows when enough is enough. This isn’t fusion food, though. You won’t find anything that makes you question your taste buds and ponder “Is that braised duck spleen?” This is just great food with unpretentious sauces.

Mey raved about her shrimp pasta, and the only misstep that I found was that our bottle of Pinot Noir was served a bit on the warm side giving it a slightly harsh flavor. It probably would’ve helped had I ordered a better bottle of wine, but after the first glass I found chugging to be much easier anyway.

With no room left for dessert, we had some coffee and got the opportunity to talk with one of the owners about her new venture, which was especially nice finishing touch. Overall it was a great experience.

Food: 4.5 Cuy
Service: 4.5 Cuy
Ambiance: 4 Cuy
Value: 4 Cuy

Overall:

Dating a beautiful unpretentious woman whom you actually like to talk to? Weird! How unusual for you…but you should bring her here.

Josephine Street Café

What’s a good mixed drink that has whiskey in it?

Seriously, it’s still kind of bugging me that the best I could come up with was the frat-boy staple “Jack and Coke”. The white neon signs in the front windows of this old building invite you for “Steaks” and “Whiskey”, and I felt the need to sample both.

Whiskey sour would have been a better choice, but in a convincingly authentic place like the Josephine Street Café I should have been a man and ordered it straight up.

This place is all about atmosphere. Despite being only a stone’s throw from San Antonio’s urban core, it’s amazing how easy it is to forget your proximity to the freeway (the restaurant’s parking lot is underneath 281). After entering through the side door and admiring the plethora of old dirty trucker hats mounted over the bar, my Miata outside transformed into a trusty old F-150. I felt conspicuously bootless.

Now that’s not to say that I was alone in my bootless-ness. There was quite an eclectic mix ranging from bikers to yuppies and everything in between. It’s especially gratifying during this polarizing Obama vs Palin political race to see a bearded hippy sitting adjacent to a conservative sexagenarian couple. Isn’t gentrification great?

Did I mention there’s a tree in the middle of the restaurant? Yup, a tree. And I’m not talking about one of those “let’s plant a tree on arbor day” kind of trees. It’s one of those “Paul Bunyan better clear his calendar” kind of trees.

After a one-drink wait at the bar for the staff to get a table for seven together, we were seated near the window and the 500-year-old sapling. A couple of differently sized card tables were assembled to create our altar of fine dining.

Chips and Queso were expectedly tasty but nothing special. My chicken fried steak with a side of mashed ‘taters was also good but forgettable. It was probably one of the better ones that I’ve had, and it was very reasonable on my wallet. At $8 for my chicken fried artery clogger I feel as though I got a bargain, although my future heart surgeon may disagree.

But really you're here for the ambiance. Prices are good, food isn’t bad, and the floor is appropriately slanted. Don’t go here expecting to be coddled while being spoon-fed veal.

The waitress got the job done efficiently on a busy Friday night and didn’t even complain when we creatively divided the check. I didn’t get any warm fuzzy feelings from her, but this isn’t the sort of place where you expect anyone to kiss your ass. All business, just like my Miata...umm I mean…my F-150.

Food: 3 Cuy
Service: 3 Cuy
Ambiance: 4 Cuy
Value: 4 Cuy

Overall:

Are you looking for a small-town hill country bar and grill, but you can't afford to gas up the Ford? Look no further.

New Poll Added

Check out the poll on the upper right side of the page. Here's some links for each of the choices to allow a more informed decision:

Oloroso
Valentino's
Le Frite
Aldino's

Feel free to make recommendations and I'll add them to the poll.

Coco

Do women taste food differently than men? 

The chef at Coco must think so, as the food I was served at this aspiring yuppie-girl hangout was sub-par by any traditional standards.  Coco is targeting quite a discriminating and demanding audience to expect to get away with that sort of thing.

Dinner wasn’t all bad.  Their interior decorator perhaps had a vampire fetish (red velvet and dark paint), but at least it wasn’t too loud inside.  I made a reservation for a party of seven and we ended up with a group of eight.  Despite giving advance notice, the waiter didn’t seem to realize that this would be a problem until the eighth member of our party arrived, at which point it was embarrassingly late to do something.  The manager seemed much more on top of things, and was able to relocate a married couple (quite awkward for them, I imagine) and steal their table to add to ours.

The waiter’s hesitant nature prevented him from highlighting the menu in any flattering fashion, but he was able to give a brief description of items when asked.

His missteps continued when he brought out Phillip’s fig pizza as an appetizer.  So while everyone else was munching on mediocre entrees, Phillip was eyeing our food with that hungry, unsatisfied gaze that I’m more accustomed to seeing from the opposite sex.  Despite excessive delays between courses and a general lack of confidence, I must say that he was very respectful (he didn’t call me “bro”) and meant well.

The quail appetizer was the lone culinary success of the evening, as the tender meat paired well with the chocolate balsamic reduction and fig puree.  Quite tasty.

For the main course, I had the Shrimp Rouille which surrounded a machego potato puree.  The presentation was nice, with five shrimp decorating a central mound o’ taters, but these diminutive crustaceans were too small for a main course.  These were overdressed appetizer shrimp that surely were destined for a marinara cocktail dip before being diverted to my plate.  The sauce was uninspired and lackluster.

“It’s ok” I told myself.  This place is known for its desserts.  It’s called Coco after all and I don’t think they’re referring to the Columbian nose candy.

Mey went with their signature dessert known as “The Kiss”, and found it to be decent but hardly up to the waiter’s hype.  My “Menage a Trois of Chocolate Mousse” was an insult to three-ways everywhere.  They were average, but a more appropriate name might be “Missionary Position of Chocolate Mousse”.  Good, solid, average mousse.  I mean, I wouldn’t turn it down if offered, but…

Perhaps I’m being a bit harsh.  Nothing I tried was actually bad.  It just wasn’t good enough to warrant a return trip.

Ambiance:  3 Cuy
Service:  3 Cuy
Food:  2 Cuy
Value:  2 Cuy

Overall:

If you’re dating a sorority girl who doesn’t know any better; then this place will get you some action.  And good for you for dating a sorority girl at your age.

Coco's Website

Tre Trattoria

Family style Italian. That’s what they call it.

I call it communism with ravioli.

Very tasty ravioli, which is why I didn’t like sharing.

But let’s start at the beginning. The bar/lounge area was very swanky with creative blue lighting and contemporary furniture. It was almost enough to keep me from feeling bad for being twenty minutes late for a dinner I organized.

Being a large party, we were seated at a large elevated table to accommodate our party of seven. The place was rockin’ on a Friday night with an abundance of loud men in tassled topsiders. Just in case hurricane Gustav made it to San Antonio, these guys were ready.

After the drinks started flowing I found my own volume control quickly set to “self-involved yuppie” anyway. This is a great place for drinking and laughing with a loud party.

I tried the “Tre Martini” which was quite tasty, but hardly worth the twelve dollar asking price.
A tip for the single ladies: order one on your date’s dime. You’re worth it.

Are you wearing that “special” black dress? Order two.

The waiter got me started with an octopus salad, which was the chef’s special of the day. It was a fair salad. Then he kept referring to the men at the table as “bro”. I’m only really comfortable with four groups of people calling me bro:

• my sister (Shannon)
• friends (while inebriated)
• tropical islanders (I don’t know why)
• people instructing me not to “tase” them (ie – "Don't tase me, bro!")

This is too nice of a restaurant not to know the difference.

I went with the mascarpone ravioli for my main course, opting not to partake in the socialist “family style” meatball dish that my friends Rich, Phil, and Joe split among them. My curiosity got the better of me and I did scarf a quarter of a tasty meatball (was that citrus that I tasted?) by the end of dinner. Then I got worse.

I finished off Art’s pappardelle with bolognese and some of Mey’s fettuccini. The bolognese had a well executed lack of complexity; it tasted like Phillip’s Italian grandmother was working off her indentured servitude in the kitchen. Fettucini was almost at room temperature, but showed promise if they hadn’t dropped the ball in preparation. The staunch capitalist inside me was begging for mercy. I even shared some of my succulent ravioli.

I finished the meal with a delightfully carefree Oregon huckleberry milkshake which took me back to an innocent time when….uhmm…well….when my milkshakes didn’t come from Oregon. I must say that it was probably the best milkshake I’ve ever had.

Tip was included at 20% (very un-capitalist) for our party of seven, and Ben Franklin was sacrificed to the dining gods.

Ambiance: 4 cuy
Food: 4 cuy
Service: 2 cuy
Value: 3 cuy

Looking for a place to take a cougar with an annoying laugh? You’ve found it!

Overall:
Tre Trattoria Dinner Menu
Tre Trattoria Website