Restaurant Week 2009
I'm not normally one to find myself short of words. However, having just returned from a Restaurant Week meal at Arcodoro & Pomodoro, I am having a great deal of difficulty combining tonight's experiences into one cohesive thought.
When it comes to fine dining, I firmly believe that service and cuisine are firmly linked. I've often said that exceptional service can elevate one's feeling toward the food placed on the table, and a lack of service can actually seem to dull the taste of otherwise exceptional cuisine. Therefore I have always insisted on describing a dining experience as one cohesive combination of the two. Tonight I have changed my mind.
My feelings tonight with regard to service and food were so far apart, that I've actually separated it in my mind as two distinct experiences, and so I have chosen to write two distinct reviews.
Before we can get to the specifics of the meal, it is important to cover the culinary perspective of the restaurant as a whole, as this is one restaurant you cannot possibly understand without first having some concept of its culinary heritage. First, I should explain that I will be referring to Arcodoro & Pomodoro as one restaurant. If you have eaten with them before, then you may be familiar with thinking of them as two separate establishments, or you may be familiar with Arcodoro in Houston. However, although the dining rooms are distinctly different, they present a combined menu and are located under the same roof, so I will look at them as one.
Although the full name of the restaurant as shown in front of the building designates Arcodoro & Pomodoro as "Italian," to stop there would certainly be to leave out some vital information. The cuisine of Arcodoro & Pomodoro is that of Sardinia (or to be more traditional, Sardegna). Although considered a region of It aly, to call Sardinian history, cuisine, or traditions "Italian" is to me much like taking the rich heritage of the Hawaiian Islands and calling it simply "American." Sardinian history goes back 150,000 years, and the distance of the island from mainland Italy has given Sardinia its own story independent of the shared history of most of the other one-time Italian City-States. Although part of the Roman Empire at several different points, Sardinia was eventually part of Spain and did not end up back together with the rest of the Italian Regions until the mid-1700's.
From the perspective of culinary heritage, Sardinia has two very distinct traditions based upon the two main areas of the island: inland and the coastline. Given its rocky shores and the frequency of attacks on the island, the oldest culinary histories are those of the people dwelling in the more protected inland areas of the island. This is very much a land of shepherds, which easily explains the widesp read perfected use of lamb and mutton as well as the milks and cheeses. Also, without easy ability to trade outside the island, Sardinians became naturally dependent upon locally grown produce. Even with the later ability to trade, this one time dependency grew into a matter of national pride, and Sardinian Cuisine is known worldwide for using the freshest of carefully grown ingredients.
As life on the coast became more possible without fear of constant attack, an incredible tradition of equally fresh and wonderful seafood began to grow as well. The admirable respect for ingredients that is innate in the culinary tradition of Sardinia is a perfect match for dealing with some of the best seafood in the world.
Service
As always, the first impression comes at the curb. Arcodoro & Pomodoro is located in Uptown on Routh Street just off McKinney. As with most establishments in this area, self-parking is nonexistent, and the pull-through for the valet is very tight and small. The valet was doing a great job of clearing cars out of the way and making room for guests to pull up to the front door. He greeted us warmly and welcomed us to the restaurant. The night was off to a very pleasant start.
We were seated promptly at a very nice table in a small beautifully decorated dining room. After sitting at the table for several minutes, a very nice gentleman came to the table and told us that he was sure our server would be with us very shortly. He told us a little about the history of the restaurant, cleared away the extra place settings and went to take care of his tables. Unfortunately, we were not in his section. About ten minutes later, the same server returned to once again apologize for our server and bring us some water. Three refills of water later, our server came to the table and introduced himself.
I ordered some sparkling water to go with our meal, and we placed our order, as we had been given plenty of time to decide what we would be having for our meal. Our server returned with the San Pellegrino, poured our glasses, put the rest of the bottle in an ice bucket on the other side of the dining room, and left. We then watched throughout the night as our bottle of water was used to refill the glasses at the table next to the ice bucket while our glasses sat empty. Fortunately, at one point, a server from another table noticed our empty glasses, went and found our bottle of water, and remaining liquid into our glasses. This had to last us until the dessert course, when yet another server tired of walking past and seeing our empty glasses and asked if he could get us some more to drink. I explained to him that our bottle of San Pellegrino had been served to another table. He apologized, retrieved another bottle, filled our glasses, and left the bottle at our table .
Throughout the meal, our server did one thing and one thing only. He brought our plates to the table. I would assume he knew exactly when they were ready, because after bringing the plates to the table, he always walked immediately back into the kitchen and did not appear again until it was time to bring us the next course. He would not have had anywhere to put the plates if it had not been for the courtesy of the other servers in the dining room who seemed to be taking turns covering for him. The other servers were very visible in the dining room. They would clear the plates from their tables and then come and get ours. They brought us bread and served us coffee.
I am actually really having difficulty with this review. I truly had the worst service I have ever experienced in any restaurant. I normally spend 20%-25% on gratuity with a higher percentage during Restaurant Week, as the servers are doing just as much work for meals at a lower cost. This was the first time ever in a fine dining restaurant that I have left no gratuity whatsoever. However, I left a substantial tip with the valet on our way out, who was the only person we passed who asked us about our dinner. I did not burden him with a full response.
In order to be fully honest, I must point out that the tables around us appeared to be getting truly exceptional service, so I have to say that this is a review of the service at our table for that one meal, and I am quite confident that the majority of the diners had a very different and much more positive experience.
Cuisine
Now I am going to close the door on the service issues and turn my attention strictly to the food
I was blessed with friends from the region during my time working on passenger cruise vessels and was always more than happy to share meals with them. I've been to Italian restaurants that designated certain dishes as Sardinian in origin. Normally that just meant a dish with roasted lamb, myrtle leaves, or fregula. One experience I have never had prior to this past Tuesday was actually tasting the Spirit of Sardegna in every bite and leaving a meal knowing that I had just truly eaten at a true Sardinian Restaurant.
As with every review from Restaurant Week, the selections available for the three main courses are listed below. The two dishes we chose to taste from the first course were Melanzane al Pro sciutto Catto and Carpaccio di Manzo ai Carciofini. Each of these showed true dedication to showcasing the best of ingredients. The baked eggplant was a perfect combination of textures and flavors between the perfectly cooked flesh of the vegetable, the creamy cheese, and the balanced touch of prosciutto cotto (literally translates to "cooked ham" as opposed to prosciutto crudo, which is the dry cured variety often referred to simply as prosciutto in the United States). Each bite sang in perfect harmony. However, if the piece of eggplant was a harmonious chorus, the featured soloist was the sauce of homegrown tomatoes upon which the eggplant rested. I wanted to pretend that it was a soup so I could get away with spooning every last drop out of the bottom of the dish. Fresh-tasting is certainly an understatement, but I do not know a word that means "it tasted like the tomatoes ripened in their own perfect timing and then fell off the vine into my mouth," so incredibly f resh-tasting will just have to do.
The beef carpaccio was a bit of a surprise, as once again the star of the plate was not as expected. Although the manzo (beef) was quite nice, it was the Carciofini (artichokes) that took my breath away. The beef was very delicate in flavor and texture and made a wonderful vessel for the combination of bitter greens and the vinaigrette, which was a rich combination of tart lemon and rich Mosto d'Uva. Mosto d'Uva literally means "must of the grape." It is pure grape juice that has been carefully reduced to a rich sweet concentrate. It is often compared to Saba, the predecessor of Balsamic Vinegar, which is taken a step further and fermented. The artichokes were ever so slightly dusted with flour and lightly fried. If the words "fried artichokes" are giving you thoughts fried vegetables such as mushrooms or zucchini that you might find at a local sports bar and immerse in a ramekin of ranch dressing, please pound those thoughts o ut of your head. It would have to be criminal to expose the delicate texture and explosively fresh flavor of these perfect vegetables to a heavy overpowering sauce, although the delicate beef and vinaigrette combination backed them up beautifully.
The Central Market Fourth Course was served second and was Sorbetto Affogato al Miele Amaro, an intermezzo of sorbetto, although it almost seemed a shame to clean my palate of the flavors from the first course. As seems to be the theme for Restaurant Week this year, the fourth course was well prepared and a wonderful addition for those who have the vouchers from Central Market. However, without the voucher, the additional cost for this course is $10.50, and I have a hard time validating such an expense for sorbet. The flavors served with our meal were raspberry and coconut. The raspberry was actually quite sweet for second course service, but when combined with the light refreshing flavor of the coconut, more of a balanc e was achieved. The literal translation of the dish is Sorbetto Drowned in Bitter Honey, although there was thankfully no drowning. I will warn you to be careful with the small homemade biscotti that accompany the sorbetto. They are filled with some sort of alcohol that can be quite overpowering if you are not expecting it.
For the entree course, we sampled one dish from the interior tradition and one from the coastal tradition. The Agnello ai Pomodori Secchi was a perfect example of Sardinian Lamb. The meat was perfectly cooked to order, incredibly tender and deliciously seasoned with juniper berries and fresh herbs. I really do not think there is a better way to prepare lamb than with fresh natural flavors and a perfect sear from the grill. The lamb was accompanied by an incredibly large serving of sundried tomato and potato puree, which was incredibly flavorful, although it seemed like an almost unneeded addition of strong flavor to the plate. The flavor I w anted to remain on my tongue was that of the lamb.
Our second entree was Paella di Fregula all Sarda. Now before I even get into this explanation, let me make a comment to any Spanish Purists out there (you know who you are). Every region of Spain has its own idea what Paella is and more importantly, what it is not. However, I am not going to get into that discussion with this dish. Remember that this is not a Spanish restaurant. There is absolutely no doubt that this dish is Sardinian, especially given the complete absence of rice. When Spain was first created as a national identity, Sardinia was included in the new country and remained under some sort of Spanish influence until the 1700's. This dish provides a tribute to their Spanish heritage in a uniquely Sardinian fashion.
As I already mentioned, there is no rice in this Paella. In it's place is my very favorite Sardinian product, Fregula. Although many people describe fregula simply as similar to I sraeli Couscous, I would actually consider it to be more of a combination of traditional couscous and Israeli couscous. In case it seems like I'm talking in circles, let me explain my thought pattern here. Couscous is tiny round balls of pasta made from semolina flour. Israeli couscous is made from hard wheat flour and baked. Both are now traditionally made in the shape of small balls, although traditional couscous is normally about 1 mm in diameter, and Israeli couscous is sometimes up to 3 mm in diameter. Fregula is also tiny round spheres of pasta normally more the size of Israeli couscous, made of semolina flour, like traditional couscous, but toasted in the oven when the pasta is made. For me, this combination makes a product far superior to anything with the word "couscous" in its name.
Any fisherman would have to be proud to be able to provide for his family the ingredients found in this Paella. It was as if each piece of seafood had been individually pre pared with the exact same flavor profile and then placed together in my bowl to form a perfect combination. Nothing was overcooked or undercooked. I especially enjoyed the calamari and the clams and the addition of a whole new level of brightness from green peas perfectly rounded out the flavor profile. The saffron lobster broth managed to just perfectly flavor each individual ingredient without leaving a drop to pool in the bowl.
Dessert could not possibly have been more traditionally Sardinian or more to my liking. It is well known that sweets are not my favorite thing. I can certainly appreciate well prepared desserts of many different types, but my favorite desserts are always those that can be a pleasing end to a meal without overwhelming sweetness. The seadas with bitter honey did just that. A seada is a lightly fried puff pastry often filled with pecorino cheese made from sheep's milk. As the name suggests, this seada was drizzled with bitter honey, whic h is also very traditional. As is pretty standard in people who write about food, I have a really bad habit of picking my food apart to try to taste individual components. If there is then something off in the combined flavor of the dish, having tasted each component individually often allows me to pick out the issue. I strongly suggest you do not do that with this dessert. No individual part of this dish seems like it could be part of a delicious dessert. The pastry seemed plain and a little bland. The cheese was delicious, but had no hint that it should be part of a final course. The bitterness of the honey is truly overwhelming on its own. However, when tasted together, a completely new flavor emerges. It was a perfect balance of sweet and tart and the textures and flavors of the pastry and cheese together were far from plain and bland. I could truly eat a dozen of these desserts and will never pick them apart again.
I will not try to tell you how you should combine these reviews into one cohesive thought, because I could not do it. Normally, such service would send me away from a restaurant forever. However, I truly do not know of anywhere else you can get such incredible Sardinian Cuisine without crossing an ocean.