I’ve gotten pretty good at guessing how many stars Greg Cox will give a restaurant, even when I’ve never even heard of the place. But this week, I have a different challenge: figuring out the rating of a friend’s restaurant — in this case, Chef Jay Pierce’s Lucky 32. I’ve previously written about this place, as Jay has invited me over twice to give him feedback on new menu items. I like what Jay has done with the restaurant, making it a high end “meat ‘n 3″ place. Frankly, the stars of Lucky 32 are often the side dishes.
The problem with this edition of Restaurant Review Roulette is that I’m not sure how well Greg Cox will like it. If I had to put my own money down, it would be at the 4 or 3.5 star level. Lucky 32 has a number of dishes that are 4 star level or higher, but its menu is so large that I suspect Cox will think it’s overreaching. I’ve also heard comments from others that love several of Lucky 32′s dishes, but they’re not enamored with others.
So, I’m going to go with 4 stars, as Lucky 32 is certainly as good as other places receiving that rating, and in some instances, even better.
Here are the odds:
5 stars — 32 to 1
4.5 stars – 32 to 9
4 stars — 32 to 23
3.5 stars — 32 to 19
3 stars — 32 to 13
2.5 stars — 32 to 5
2 stars — 32 to 4
1.5 stars — 32 to 1.2
1 star — 32 to .32
The one thing we know is that Lucky 32 won’t be getting 32 stars. How many will Greg Cox give it?
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Edit, September 3, 2010: Greg Cox gave Lucky 32 3.5 stars in this week’s review. This is one of those reviews where the description of the place, including the food, doesn’t really match up with the rating. Greg is quite positive about the place across the board, with a couple of minor exceptions, which led me to think he wanted to give it 4 stars. But I sense that Greg just couldn’t bring himself to give them that extra half star. What I will say is that a LOT of the dishes on that menu are worthy of 4 stars, but I also have no problem with Greg’s final verdict.
I’m going to make this a very short post: go to the Cary or Glenwood Avenue Chipotle Tuesday (August 31) evening with this flyer, and 50% of the proceeds go to the Lucy Daniels Center. I’m the Chair of the Center’s Board, so please think about doing this. It’s a worthy cause, and Chipotle is pretty good for a chain.
The William Stovetop has just about all the features, and the control, that any home cook would want. If this thing could crank out the BTUs and is easy to clean, I could see having this in my home. The data that the unit offers is very cool, as it the basic concept. It’s just a prototype right now, unfortunately.
I embarrassed my daughter last year somewhat by describing the dinner I was going to cook for her birthday party as a type of father-to-daughter love letter. I’ll not do that again, but I’m pretty pleased that she asked me to cook for her and her friends again this year. I’ve got a tentative menu planned, including a couple of Thomas Keller dishes, but she may have me tweak it a bit. It is her birthday, you know.
Hors D’Ouevres
Gougères (French Cheese Puffs)
Soup
Cream of Cauliflower Soup with Red Beet Chips (Keller)
Salad
Baby Spinach with Avocado and Grapefruit, Poppy Seed Dressing (Thanks, Ann Cashion)
Pasta
Farfalle with Pesto, White Beans, and Local Sun-Dried Tomatoes
Entrée
Sautéed Curry Chicken Breasts with Tarragon Butter Sauce, Pole Bean Ragout (Keller)
Dessert
Raspberry Buttermilk Cake with Dark Chocolate Ganache, White Chocolate Ice Cream (Thanks, Crumb!)
This week’s review is of Flights, the restaurant in the Marriott-owned North Hills-based Renaissance Hotel. So, it’s a Marriott, eh? They’re not really known for putting top notch restaurants in their hotels. But what’s this on the menu? Pork from Cane Creek Farms? Locally sourced produce? Goat cheese from Elodie Farms? So, what you’re saying is that this Marriott doesn’t get all their stuff from US Foods??? Hmmm, maybe this restaurant won’t suck.
I have an inherent bias against hotel restaurants, but I suspect this place just might be better than it needs to be, and decent enough to hold its own versus the other places in North Hills. With that, I’m thinking this is a 3.5 to 4 star restaurant, and my hunch is that it’s going to be the higher rating. We shall see on Friday. Here are this week’s odds:
5 stars — 35 to 1
4.5 stars – 7 to 1
4 stars — 2 to 1
3.5 stars — 5 to 2
3 stars — 5 to 1
2.5 stars — 6 to 1
2 stars — 9 to 1
1.5 stars — 15 to 1
1 star — 25 to 1
Do I have a single reader who has made it to Flights? And, be honest, how many of you never even heard of this place?
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Edit: Flights soared to a 4 star rating, with Greg Cox using every airplane metaphor possible in his review. As I would have done, too.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to Holly Springs, so I’m pretty sure I’ve never been to Il Forno Italian Grill, the subject of this week’s restaurant review in the News & Observer (note: the website has music, but at least this time, it’s Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me To The Moon”). Il Forno seems to be a pretty standard Italian-American joint, with all the typical offerings found at nearly every other Italian-American restaurant. The key to guessing how good this restaurant is, and thus, how many stars Greg Cox will give it, then comes down to execution.
The Yelpsters seem to like it, but once again, there’s some reviews in there that say something like, “I’m from New York and my parents spent a week in Italy, so I know Italian food.” Geesh. I mean, we all pretty much know Italian food, although far too many people have had their minds and palates numbed by the likes of the Olive Garden — blecch.
But I digress. I suspect that Il Forno is probably a little better than average. That comes across in some of their Facebook page’s photos, but it’s also because they were serving bucatini dishes at the time. If a restaurant serves bucatini (and mind you, there’s no mention of that tubular pasta on the menu), then they care!
So, I’m going to waffle between 3 and 3.5 stars, with 3 being the slight favorite.
5 stars — 555 to 1
4.5 stars – 111 to 1
4 stars — 7 to 1
3.5 stars — 5 to 2
3 stars — 3 to 2
2.5 stars — 3 to 1
2 stars — 6 to 1
1.5 stars — 13 to 1
1 star — 20 to 1
Place your bets!
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Edit, August 20, 2010 — Ah, the dangers of this game of Review Roulette: Sometimes, places look a lot better than what they are, as evidenced by Il Forno’s 2.5 star review in today’s N&O. Greg Cox stated that the place has “flashes of promise” but are “still ironing out the wrinkles.” Oh, well.
Anyone who knows me even peripherally understands that I’m obsessed with food. I think of food the way many a college sophomore thinks of sex — it’s always on my mind to one degree or another. When I’m finishing one meal, I typically start thinking of the next. Most everyone I know would consider me to be a — egad — foodie. But to tell you the truth, I hate being called that, even if the label fits.
There are several traits of a foodie, and although I fit many of them, I still try to convince myself that I am not a foodie. First of all, a foodie is not an insider. If you work in the food industry, as a chef, cook, restaurateur, bartender, farmer, supplier, wine vendor, or food writer, you are not considered a foodie. I don’t know why that is, but I have come to learn that folks within the industry never get tagged with the label, “foodie.”
Foodies are the groupies of the food industry.
Foodies are typically chef sycophants and individuals who like to brag about how many Michelin-starred restaurants they’ve been to, adding notches to their belt with each new place. Essentially, they love to say, “Look at me! I ate at Alinea and Per Se and Ko (and yes, I got into Ko 3 times last month).”
Most foodies I know take a very clinical approach to their food. They analyze it, obsess over it. They want to photograph it and post it on Twitter.
Foodies love to get together with other foodies to share their war stories. Sometimes they bring a dish to show off some really cool ingredient or technique.
I like to cook, even to the point of showing off. I like to talk about food. Some of my best friends are chefs or food writers. But for some reason, I just don’t like calling myself a foodie. My self-denial is driven partly out of arrogance, that I’m somehow better or more insightful than others. But I’m not really. I’m no different than all those other individuals at the Tweet-ups and farm-to-fork potlucks. I can try to convince myself otherwise, but I’m just being delusional.
I’ve learned over the years that I don’t particularly love hanging around most other foodies. I can talk for hours with chefs and food writers, but when I start talking with another food groupie, the conversation often comes quickly to an end. Sure, I have lots of friends who are foodies with whom I can talk all day, but I struggle conversing with the vast majority of foodies. Is that me, or is that them?
One distinction I try to make in distinguishing “me” from “them” is that I want to have greater knowledge of food and its place in society, whereas most foodies merely want to have more culinary accomplishments. For instance, I know foodies who have gone to culinary school, and I think some of them did that simply so they could say they went to culinary school. On the other hand, I know a handful of folks who went to culinary school to truly learn what the industry is about. This might be a completely bullshit distinction, of course, but it might have some merit.
Ultimately, I think that I’m the type of foodie who deep down wants to be an insider, but with the sad realization that that will never happen. I will not be a chef or a line cook or even a bus boy. I will not be a restaurateur. I will not be a food writer. But I want to have the knowledge of those people and to be treated like a peer, rather than a groupie. I try to convince myself that I’m not the type of foodie who likes to rack up gastronomic merit badges, just clinging to the insiders in order to show off to the world.
But once again, I’m probably fooling myself. And at the end of the day, what difference does it make? I like food. I like making it. Studying it. Eating it. I like understanding the sociology and history and evolution of food and cuisine. I like bullshitting with insiders, and I like showing off my skills to everyone. Hell, I even write a food blog to say, “Look at me.”
I guess, when it comes right down to it, I’m gonna have to live with being a foodie after all. Dammit.
To be reviewed this week is Bravo’s Mexican Grill, which appears to be a fairly standard Mexican restaurant in Cary. Nothing stands out about the menu. The website has the most god-awful sound ever, which I think is music, but it comes through as distortion (and I would hate it even if it were nice music). The owners apparently have two other places in South Carolina, but I know nothing about those.
This is the type of place that screams for a review of 2 or 2.5 stars, but the teaser in today’s N&O suggests that it might be a bit better than that. Maybe it’s their “Pollo Relleno” that is served with something called, “Creamy Broccoli Gravy.” I have no clue, and the online reviews don’t provide any great insight, either. Damn it, I hate guessing these places. But I suspect that this place just might be better than mediocre, and that’s why my target is 3 stars.
5 stars — 2,000 to 1
4.5 stars – 250 to 1
4 stars — 25 to 1
3.5 stars — 3 to 1
3 stars — 5 to 4
2.5 stars — 2 to 1
2 stars — 5 to 1
1.5 stars — 7 to 1
1 star — 25 to 1
Let me know if you’ve eaten there. And how many stars you think it will get. And if you go back, please tell the owners to drop the music from the website!
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Edit, August 13, 2010 — Hah, take that, you naysayers! Bravo’s got 3 stars from the N&O. And so what if there really weren’t any naysayers? I just like to say that I’m right and create controversy when there really is none.
Many of you might think that my kids eat everything and anything put in front of them. Not so. Each of our four children has his or her idiosyncrasies, things that are loved or loathed. My oldest loves most food, but he hates legumes of any kind — except for roasted peanuts, perhaps. He just can’t stand the texture and now the taste. My older daughter doesn’t like seafood or red meat. My younger son doesn’t like cooked fruit, except for applesauce. My younger daughter doesn’t like bananas or fresh peaches or pineapple. Only one of the kids will eat raw tomatoes and none of them like cilantro. I sometimes stress out, as my (unrealistic) expectations are that they should like everything. Yes, that’s a completely ludicrous position, and I’m coming to grips with it.
I recently visited Vin Rouge in Durham, taking my younger two children (they’re 9 and 11). I’ve known chef Matt Kelly before he started there, but I’ve only eaten his cooking a couple of times. Vin Rouge has become the place where other chefs eat, primarily because of Kelly’s dedication to the craft of cooking. He’s one hell of a cook, and if you ever visit on a Sunday night, you’ll find a handful of local chefs eating there on their night off.
Anyhow, shortly after we sat down, a huge charcuterie plate landed on our table, featuring 5 different kinds of pate’, a pork rillette (or was it rabbit?), plus some bacon confiture, salami and other goodies. The kids tried some of the items on the plate, liking some and saying, “That’s different” with others. My son later tried and liked my sweetbreads. The kids ordered hanger steak — rare (although they were torn between that and the mussels). For dessert they had chocolate mousse and creme brulee. It was a pretty safe meal, except for the pate’ and the sweetbreads.
Last night I attended a potluck where a number of chefs were in attendance, including Matt Kelly. I thanked him again for the charcuterie plate and told him that my kids had fun with it. He responded, “It’s great to serve normal food to kids, as it’s so rare for that to happen. I get all kinds of crazy requests to accommodate kids.” I thought about that for a moment, and then realized that Matt’s statement might be the highest complement he could have paid me as a food-loving father. Suddenly, images of my kids’ food adventures started running through my head. I took those same two children to Publican in Chicago last month, where they sampled lamb neck, sturgeon, octopus and pork rinds. They loved the frites with fried eggs on top (someone needs to do that dish around here — are you listening, Ashley Christensen?). They didn’t think the food was weird at all.
And so, after all these years, I think that I’m finally able to handle the kids’ dislikes. They’re by no means picky eaters, and I realize that. They may never have a passion for food the way that I do, but they’ll always understand its importance. Yup, I’m damn lucky indeed.
As I’ve previouslywritten, my wife and I host an interactive dinner party for my law firm each summer. The primary purpose of this party is to ensure that everyone in attendance plays some role in the production of the dinner, whether it’s prepping, plating, busing, or shaking cocktails. That way, we put people in situations that are a bit different from our office environment, such as when a first year associate is telling our managing partner that he’s screwing up the composition of the plate. It’s a multi-course affair, and with the exception of one year when I did Louisiana-inspired food, I’ve made Italian fare. That’s because Italian is easy, particularly for a big crowd.
This year, however, I’m doing something different — Southern food. Some of my chef friends gave me some ideas for dishes, and then I got other inspirations from items that are fresh at the market. Here’s my tentative menu (the dinner is on the 14th), listing who provided or inspired the idea. If no one is listed, then I’ve sort of pulled that one together from multiple sources. I’d appreciate comments and suggestions, particularly if there’s a way to make it easier on myself. There will be 34 guests this year. Eek!
Cocktails
Blackberry Collins –Vodka infused with Lyon Farms Blackberries, House-made Sour, Club Soda (inspired by Karen Barker of Magnolia Grill, but I’m likely using this for the SFA Potluck on Monday) -OR-
Lamb Loin, Pink Eye Pea and Zucchini Salad, Tomato-mint jam
Dessert
Brown sugar pound cake with roasted peaches and molasses crème fraiche – Karen Barker, Magnolia Grill, Durham, NC
I may throw in an intermezzo course of a slice of watermelon with heirloom tomato and some Pheta from Chapel Hill Creamery, inspired by Bill Smith’s great salad at Crook’s Corner.
I had the pleasure of attending the Stir the Pot event at Poole’s Diner a couple of months ago that featured the cooking of Charleston chef and wonderboy Sean Brock, and what a great event it was. It was great because Brock and Chef Ashley Christensen put together some fantastic food, mixing the traditional and the contemporary. It was great because Matt Fern hooked us up with some incredible wines. It was great because I got to eat and mingle with chefs, food writers, and folks like me who love food.
But it was truly great because this event supported the Southern Foodways Alliance. I’ve written about the SFA a number of times, but this is an organization that truly understands what food is all about. It isn’t about adding notches to your restaurant belt, showing how many of the hottest places you eaten. It isn’t about the hottest or latest trend. What it is about is the role of food in our society. It’s about the camaraderie of individuals who care about food. It’s about what food — and particularly Southern food — means to me and you and anyone else who cares about what he or she eats. I’ve made dozens of great friends through the SFA. I know so much more about food because of the SFA. I’ve convinced chefs that they need to get involved in the SFA, and once they did, they haven’t stopped thanking me. And even though I’m not a chef or food writer or TV producer, I’m still accepted by those who are. It’s a non-judgmental organization.
And this Sunday and Monday, you can help the SFA while having some incredible food. Ashley Christensen and Poole’s Diner will be having their second round of Stir the Pot, featuring the talents of Alex Raij and Eder Montero, the wife and husband owners of New York’s Txikito, the city’s only Basque restaurant and El Quinto Pino, the city’s best tapas place. These are big-time New York chefs, and just because you haven’t seen their faces all over the Food Network, they’re the real deal. And we’re lucky to have them.
On Sunday, Poole’s will be hosting Raij and Montero for a wonderful dinner, which will start at 6:30 PM with lots of sparkling wine (Spanish, I’m betting) and creative Spanish finger foods. This will be followed by a 5 course dinner, with wine accompaniments. The cost is $150, plus tax and tip. I know our dining budgets are tight these days, but remember, you’re also supporting an incredible organization with the SFA. You’ll also get to have discussions with the chefs.
On Monday evening from 6-9, Ashley Christensen will be hosting a potluck at her home. The potluck is for everyone–restaurant industry folks, writers, beverage enthusiasts, home cooks and people who with a general love for food and its history. A main course of black cherry smoked beer can-roasted chicken and wine to match will be provided, along with some fantastic beer from my buddies at Fullsteam Brewery and signature cocktails from the mixologists at Foundation. Just bring a dish for the potluck (I’m bringing some vodka that has been steeping in blackberries for 2 months) and a check for $35 payable to the Southern Foodways Alliance.
Please call Poole’s at 832-477 to make reservations for either or both of these great events.
Yeah, you read that headline right, and before you get too excited about this possible claim, realize that I’m not saying The Fearrington House is definitely the best restaurant in the Triangle, but it is certainly a contender. It’s that good. But first, a little story of my relationship with this great Chatham County place. Read the rest of this entry »
Did you miss me? Sorry, but I’ve been on vacation and really haven’t even thought about writing. My timing was pretty good, however, as the N&O didn’t have a review last week, with it being the fifth Friday of the month.
This week’s contestant is Market Restaurant, the hip place in Raleigh’s Mordecai neighborhood that focuses on local, organic fare. This place has been favorably reviewed by Urbanspoon reviewers and the omnipresent Yelpsters. It has a chef who is committed to things that foodies (and food critics) like: flavorful, local ingredients, simply prepared, well-presented. It’s in a cool neighborhood. And the prices are reasonable, with the most expensive thing on the menu (except for the fish of the day) will run you 16 bucks.
Based on these considerations, I expect Market to get a decent review from Greg Cox. It’s his type of place, and the on-line reviews have been pretty favorable. Once again, this is a place I haven’t visited yet (do you get the sense that I really don’t get out all that much?), but I’m feeling that Market will garner 4 stars.
Here are the odds:
5 stars — 25 to 1
4.5 stars – 2 to 1
4 stars — 1 to 1
3.5 stars — 5 to 2
3 stars — 4 to 1
2.5 stars — 7 to 1
2 stars — 13 to 1
1.5 stars — 27 to 1
1 star — 75 to 1
How many stars would you give Market? And how many stars will Greg Cox give it?
Authenticity. Greg Cox loves the “hole in the wall” restaurant that offers traditional, “authentic” cuisine. And he really likes traditional Chinese food, so I suspect that he’s going to give a favorable review of Morrisville’s C & T Wok, a place that offers standard Chinese-American and Thai food, but it also has a traditional Szechuan menu. Here, Cox can fulfill his cravings for organ meats and tendon dishes and the heat that this cuisine provides.
Greg Cox enjoys his fine dining, but it’s this type of place that really gets him excited. Now I have no idea of whether the folks at C & T Wok do it well, but I bet Cox will like it just fine.
I’m saying 3 to 3.5 stars for this one.
5 stars — 963 to 1
4.5 stars – 19 to 1
4 stars — 9 to 2
3.5 stars — 5 to 3
3 stars — 3 to 2
2.5 stars — 5 to 2
2 stars — 4 to 1
1.5 stars — 9 to 1
1 star — 27 to 1
So who’s been to C & T Wok? And why does this place make me sing, C+C Music Factory’s “Everybody Dance Now?” You can thank me for the rest of the day for planting that song in your head. Along with “Wok on the Wild Side” and “Wok This Way.” The puns have ended. Nothing more to see here.
Do you love the Muppets? I know you do. And you really, truly love the Swedish Chef. Well, you’re gonna love this one, with the Chef rocking out to the electronica classic, “Popcorn.”
If you ask a local for a good breakfast spot, Courtney’s will get mentioned as much as anyone else. There are a few Courtney’s locations in the Triangle, and many people swear their breakfasts are the best in the area. I don’t agree, as the food has always been decent, but not great, but I can understand the appeal. Courtney’s also serves lunch, offering soups, salads and sandwiches. Courtney’s has not, however, traditionally served dinner. Until recently.
Enter Chef Orobosa John Uwagbai. And Courtney’s Bistro. Chef Orobosa is a native Nigerian who has been cooking low country fare in the Charleston area for some time, and then worked at Gregory’s in Cary. The Courtney’s Bistro website claims he’s listed as one of the top 25 chefs in the country (although they don’t list the source of that list). He’s now partnered with the owners of Courtney’s to offer a “unique and exquisite dinner service.” Now this is quite a combination, combining crystal and linen with the diner-like feel of Courtney’s. The menu certainly focuses on low country specialties such as shrimp and grits and gumbo, but he also offers traditional fare such as rack of lamb and pasta dishes.
And now Greg Cox gets to review this bizarre combination.
I have no clue how good the food is. I have no clue how this concept works. I have no clue if Greg Cox will love or loathe the place. What to do, oh, what to do?
Punt. That’s what I need to do. But, alas, this being Restaurant Review Roulette, I cannot run away. I have to establish the odds. There is a substantial amount of betting going on, I’m sure (snicker), and so I offer this week’s prognostication: Courtney’s Bistro will garner 3 stars.
5 stars — 200 to 1
4.5 stars – 20 to 1
4 stars — 9 to 2
3.5 stars — 2 to 1
3 stars — 3 to 2
2.5 stars — 5 to 2
2 stars — 3 to 1
1.5 stars — 7 to 1
1 star — 17 to 1
I don’t know a soul who has tried Courtney’s Bistro. Let me know your thoughts. And your predictions.
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Edit, July 16, 2010:Greg Cox gave Courtney’s Bistro 3 stars, just as I predicted. However, the description of the food sounds as if Courtney’s Bistro could have merited at least another half star. I guess the guy has a problem with formica tables.
You might have heard of Lucky 32, and you might have even eaten there over the years. There are two Lucky 32 locations, one in Greensboro and the other in Cary near Regency Park, and until last year, I didn’t think much about the place. My recollections of Lucky 32 were of a glorified, slightly high-end chain restaurant in the ilk of Tripp’s. The menu was all over the place, with food representing cuisine from just about every major country. People who have never been have told me that they thought it was a Chinese restaurant.
Last October, while attending the Southern Foodways Alliance’s annual symposium, I was waiting in line to get some grub and started talking to this guy with long hair pulled back into a pony tail and a bitchin’ goatee. He told me his name was Jay Pierce, and that he was the chef at Lucky 32. In a moment of Southern food snobbery, I wondered what the hell a chef of a high-end Applebee’s was doing at the SFA symposium. I quickly learned from Chef Pierce that Lucky 32 was a completely different restaurant, that it had a focus on Southern cuisine with locally sourced ingredients. I couldn’t believe that Lucky 32 had changed so much.
A month or two later, I got an email from Jay, asking me if I’d be willing to come over and go through a tasting of the new winter menu. I was intrigued by what they were doing, and so I came over at lunch time and joined Jay and General Manager Shane Garrity in a whirl-wind tour of about 15 dishes. These were dishes that were sometimes classic Southern, but always inspired by Southern traditions. I offered my comments to Jay, telling him what I liked and what I would change slightly. I told Chef Pierce that Lucky 32 had become a high-end “meat and 3″ place, as the side dishes were as much of a feature as the mains. He liked that concept, but frankly, I had forgotten about it until recently.
Flash forward to two weeks ago, when Jay invited me back to try to summer menu, which he was calling “Suddenly This Summer.” I was excited to get back for two reasons. First of all, because I had failed to write about my first tasting experience, but second, and more importantly, because I wanted to see what he was going to do with summer produce. As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed that the name of the restaurant had slightly changed; it’s now “Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen.” It appears this transformation to a high end meat and 3 is complete, so I was anxious to eat. This is what I tasted, and the comments I gave. Read the rest of this entry »
Greg Cox reviews Cameron Village’s new Southwestern/Mexican joint, Cantina 18, in this Friday’s News & Observer. Cantina 18 is the creation of Jason Smith, the chef of 18 Seaboard, and it has received mixed reviews from my friends and colleagues. Those who are well-versed in authentic Mexican food don’t care for it all that much, whereas folks who enjoy a burrito from Moe’s recognize that this is a step up from that chain-restaurant fare. Some people have complained about the prices (particularly when compared to a taqueria), but this is more uspscale, and the tacos come with rice, beans and slaw. I’ve yet to eat there, simply because the place had so many initial problems that needed to be resolved. I’m now ready to give it a try, and I suspect I’ll like it just fine.
But that’s not all that relevant or important, as what we really are concerned with is how many stars Greg Cox will give the place. I suspect he’ll like the fact that this is not a typical cookie-cutter Mexican restaurant, that Jason Smith took some chances. I think he’ll like the fact that it’s in Cameron Village, a place that needs some originality with its restaurants. I think he’ll like the food, too. But I don’t think he’ll love it. To me, this is a 3.5 star place all the way. We shall see.
Here are the odds:
5 stars — 99 to 1
4.5 stars – 13 to 1
4 stars — 3 to 1
3.5 stars — 5 to 3
3 stars — 4 to 1
2.5 stars — 7 to 1
2 stars — 11 to 1
1.5 stars — 21 to 1
1 star — 33 to 1
I’m hedging my bets here intentionally. This is a place where Greg Cox could have had a great experience, or a lousy one. How many stars do you think it deserves?
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Edit, July 9, 2010 — It’s a 3 star review for Cantina 18, with Greg Cox saying there’s been a marked improvement over the preceding visit each of the three times he’s visited.
I’m about to lose some credibility as a foodie/gourmet/gastronome/whatevertermiscurrentlyinvogue, but I have a confession to make: There are a small number of foods that I really don’t love or fully appreciate. Foods that some people think are the best in the world, but to me, they’re just OK. This came to me last night when I had two gorgeous green tomatoes that just came off the vine. I sliced them thickly, soaked them in buttermilk with some green Tabasco, then dredged in cornmeal with salt and pepper. I fried them quickly in a skillet until a rich golden brown. I dug in and, just like every single fried green tomato I’ve previously eaten, they were fine. Just fine. Nothing all that special to me, and certainly nothing close to an “Oh my god, this is so good” moment.
I don’t get fried green tomatoes. And before you tell me, “Oh, you haven’t had mine” or “You need to try so-and-so’s,” let me remind you that I’ve had fried green tomatoes dozens of times from dozens of places. I always allowed to get myself excited by the hype, and I tried to convince myself that they were fantastic. But they were just OK. Nothing all that special, but certainly a good way to get rid of the end-of-season green tomatoes (although making soup out of them is a far better thing to do).
And then I realized that there are other food items that I enjoy just fine, but they’re nowhere nearly as exciting as what others proclaim.
Exhibit B: Soft shell crab. I first have to admit that I am a soft shell crab neophyte. I’ve had it before, but I hadn’t even eaten an entire soft shell crab until about a month ago. It was cooked by Ashley Christensen, whom you all know as my favorite chef in the area. And I enjoyed it. But as I was eating it, I was also thinking, “Boy, I would love to have some blue crab or dungeness. ” I understand that soft shell crabs are different, in flavor, texture and how they’re cooked, and they’re more sought after because they’re available for only a limited time. But to me, they’re not so good to cause me to groan in a food-gasm.
Exhibit C: Fiddlehead ferns. They have a fine flavor, but again, I suspect these are so desirable because they’re available only for a limited amount of time and they are a harbinger of spring.
Now there are some transient foods that I do get, and how. Morels are at the top of the list. As are truffles. I really like ramps. And the first of the season’s asparagus. The height of the summer peach season sees me looking like a fool, with peach juices constantly dripping down my chin.
I obviously haven’t thought long enough to come up with other foods I don’t get, but I’m sure there are plenty. I just don’t like calf liver, but that’s another story altogether. What don’t you get?
I love pizza, and even mediocre pizza is pretty damn good. But great pizza is so hard to find — the Triangle has not had a great pizza place. And when I say “great”, I mean the pizza is hauntingly memorable, where you can’t get the taste out of your head. I’ve had great pizza in New York, New Haven and Phoenix. This pizza is all about the crust, with a slight char, where the toppings almost melt into oblivion. Moreover, these pizzas (or pizze) are inevitably cooked in super-hot ovens, typically 900 degrees or more and fired with coal. Most pizza joints have gas-fueled pizza ovens, which can get up to 500 degrees or so, but still far cooler than what’s needed. Wood-fired ovens get a bit hotter, but not quite enough. Coal is where it’s at. And we now have a coal-fired pizza oven in the Triangle. In Cary, of all places. And very close to my home.
This place is Bella Mia, in the Arboretum at the corner of Weston Parkway and Harrison Avenue. The place is owned by Rick Guerra, a New Yorker if there ever was one. Guerra is friendly and passionate about what he does. His sons man the two ovens that are fueled initially with oak, and then hard coal to bring up the heat. The flour is imported “00″ grade. The tomatoes, San Marzano. The mozzarella, from water buffaloes. This place doesn’t put second rate ingredients on its pies, and damn, the crust is so good.
We’re talking fairly thin-crust Neapolitan-style pizza here. And as I said above, it’s all about the crust — perfectly charred, with just the right amount of texture and salt (and not even the slightest bit of sweetness, thank you very much). I’d prefer it just slightly thinner, but I’m not complaining. This is the real deal, folks, and I suspect Bella Mia will soon have lines snaking out the door, as NO ONE in the Triangle has a pizza this good. Just order the Margherita and enjoy. I just finished an hour ago, and I’m already wanting to get back.
Bella Mia
2015 Renaissance Park Place (in the Arboretum off Westin Pkwy)
Cary, NC
919-677-3999 www.bellamiacoalfire.com
Posted by Varmint 
