This is almost a clone of my much-loved Quince, except for its smaller dimensions.
Similar to Quince in its "better get there mid-afternoon" counsel regarding the bar, but once you're settled at your table the service starts to slip into croooz.
Call me a creature of habit, but I had the foie gras and Bavette steak with duck-fat potatoes, foraged mushrooms, and bordelaise sauce. I'm getting my foie gras fix on, as I hear it'll soon be banned in San Francisco!
Pavey and Simi shared scallops and something (misspelled, I'm certain) like Moraccan Chicken, while Amo had the Dorade.
The few times I've been here we've fortunately been seated at the front of the main dining room, where it's breathable. I don't know if I'd like to be sat in the compressed interior, and definitely not by the bar.
So there it is. Another year, another of the wife's birthdays.
No comments:
Post a Comment