The menu, though “eclectic” in the most contrived way possible (coconut-saffron halibut AND mac and cheese were offered), afforded me a variety of options as a vegetarian: a couple of salads, several sides, and a veggie entrée that wasn’t the standard pasta/pizza/risotto/eggplant option. I felt loved, I did!
First, the server brought out a small square of watermelon “compliments of the chef”; we laughed at that—you’re not making me feel special with a square inch of watermelon. But anyway, it’s always fun to have a pre-starter. It had a little finger-hole in it filled with honey and balsamic; the truth was, you couldn’t really taste the topping, but it was nice.
Next: bread course. One was a raisin and grape (how deliciously odd!) focaccia and the other was just standard warm French bread. The spreads were unsalted butter and white bean paste! I heart white bean paste!
Then we ordered two starters: the asparagus salad and the truffle fries. Again, I’m not sure about the mixture of low- and high-culture foods, but if it tastes good, then the shoe fits. Or wait, if the shoe fits, then your menu is OK? Whatever. So the asparagus was cooked then chilled, tossed with radish slices, and coated in a cider champagne vinaigrette. It was totally yummy—really cold and tangy and light. Then the fries: they were standard fries with a hint of truffle/parmesan at the back end. Pretty yummy. For the entrée, it was French-style gnocchi with tomatoes and roasted veggies. Now because of the salmonella scare, we couldn’t order any of the tomato salads, and the entrees subbed sundrieds. The chef, the maitre d’, and the waiter all apologized for this, so those tomatoes in the gnocchi must be phenomenal usually. But even still, this dish was to die for. OK first the gnocchi were nice and tender inside, but had a little bit of a crispy outer texture. They instantly tasted nutty, lemony, and thymey. In fact, my first thought was “this is lemon thyme,” which is a very odd herb. The veggies included the summer squashes, kalamata olives, and sundried tomatoes, and they were so so good—perfectly cooked and seasoned. And it was in a brown butter glaze. I learned something: the dish was not salted at all, from what I could tell. Now I’m not a salter—I hardly use it to season or cook. But with my first bite of the gnocchi, though delicious, I thought “salt”; then I tried again, thinking that there’s no way a chef would put so much thought into a dish and forget to salt it. So I took a bite NOT avoiding the olive this time, and that was the secret! The gnocchi in brown butter were nutty, the sundreids tangy, and the olives salty. It achieved an end of taste balance through vegetable means! Amazing!
Well I raved and ate and shared and called the waiter over to ask the big secret—what was that flavor? He couldn’t tell me, but chef Eric Kelly came out and gave me the whole secret! (Now, that is SO much cooler than Mr. Blackberry with his secret hummus! And you know what? That makes me want to go back. Take note, chefs. Take note.)
Here’s what he does:
- He makes a noodle gnocchi (not potato!) from flour, salt, egg, oil, etc. and boils it.
- Then he browns whole milk fat at high heat—this makes it taste nutty, and sautés the veggies and gnocchi in there. This gives them their outer crisp.
- Then he squeezes lots of fresh lemon juice and sprinkles a handful of fresh parsley on top.
- Viola!
Amazing. Truly. All you veggies/non-veggies out there—you have to try this gnocchi. And you know what else? Milk fat aside, the secret is NOT in the chicken stock, my friends!!!!
Know what else besides that? The chef chatted with us for about 10 minutes, then bought us a round of drinks. I mean, that’s how you do it. (Thumbs up, SCAPE).
I was too full for dessert, but we tried a little anyway. We heard that the crepes were to die for, so we ordered the bananas foster crepes. Here’s how they went:
- Crepe
- Caramelized bananas
- Stracciatella gelato, house made
The combination of the eggy crepe, the super sweet and warm bananas, and the cold vanilla/chocolaty gelato was impressive. This guy really knows how to mix flavors, textures, and temperatures.
The review from Sauce was pretty good; in sum, the more casual version of SCAPE is preferable to the past formal menu. And I have to agree: I thoroughly enjoyed my (yes, 3 hour) meal there, the food was better than noteworthy, and the added personal touch from the chef was really cool. Now if they could tone down the Cheesecake Factory décor and educate the waiter about wines just a smidge more, SCAPE would be well on its way to high honors. But even without, the food is really just really good. High five!
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