Read Drink & Be Merry

I was recently asked to help out at Richmond Magazine with their Top 25 Restaurants issue that just hit the stands a few days ago.  Tina E did a great job as my editor, taking my rather lengthy thoughts and condensing them down to a more reasonable length for the feature.  You should rush out a get a copy and read it – if that leaves you wanting a bit more then here is the full piece on Can-Can……

If I didn’t have a kitchen, Can-Can could easily provide me with all my meals.  Really, I mean it.

Except for Sundays – when Can-Can serves an excellent brunch – they don’t actually have a breakfast menu but what they do have is, in a way, much better.  Opening at 7:00 AM they serve a rotating array of pastries, croissant and fresh breads with jams – all baked in-house.  Sample a Pecan Madeleine or their amazing Almond Croissant and you’ll stop here rather than a fast food drive through any day of the week.  Pair that with a pot of fresh coffee, tea or hot chocolate and you’ll get up a few minutes early, bring your newspaper (or laptop – they do have wi-fi) and have a relaxing start to your day with someone else doing the clean-up.

Skip out of the office for lunch and get recharged with happy taste buds for the remainder of the day.  While some dishes are available year-round, Croque Monsieur or add an egg for the Madame, the menu rotates to take advantage of seasonal items and desires.  Cold winter days are made less nasty after a Braised Lamb Sandwich or a Fried Oyster BLT and if you’re under the weather try the Butternut Squash Soup, the creamy goodness won’t cure you but you will feel much better.

Don’t be concerned if you are running a bit late for lunch.  Can-Can does continuous service and has an afternoon café menu.  The burger is one of the best in town, with a difficulty bonus for being able to serve them rare or medium rare perfectly and without complaint, and the pommes frites are second to none.  If you’re looking for something else then try the Moules Frites, mussels and fries.  While the traditional white wine and garlic is excellent try the mustard, tarragon and pancetta.  The creamy flavor combination of the mustard sauce and mussels will bring conversation to a halt.

Dinner takes Can-Can’s French Bistro theme to its height.  From Escargot to Beouf Tartar for starters (most available in half orders so you can sample more) to Sole Meuniere or Grilled Hanger Steak Bordelaise for entrees you will forget you are in Richmond.  The French wine list can be a bit intimidating but have no fear, just flag down the beverage manager, Bob Talbot, who has probably forgotten more about wine then I currently know.  Starting in January they will also offer a prix fixe menu – entrée and soup or salad for $20 – a nice option in these tough economic times.

One can even swing by after a movie.  Can-Can doesn’t close till 1:00 AM (2:00 on Friday and Saturday) making it the perfect place to stop for a dessert (all, including sorbets and ice creams, made in-house) a cheese plate or an after-dinner drink.

What is possibly the most amazing thing is that Can-Can does all this and does it so well.  Most restaurants that try to do too much lose consistency and simply become mediocre.  Yep, I could eat all my meals here.

A while back I asked Chris, owner of Can-Can, about the number of children that I would see at Can-Can.  It didn’t matter what time of day I was there, brunch, lunch or dinner, there always seemed to be kids in the restaurant.  His reply was that they had tried to make the place family friendly from day one.  They had only started out with two high chairs, gone up to 4 and then to 8 and were considering needing more.  This is a bit surprising considering the menu has only a couple of kids items for lunch and brunch and none at dinner.  It succeeds, however, with good food, apps and sides that kids will eat and enjoy, and a staff that treats kids with respect.  The bonus is I’ve never seen a kid melt down or cause a scene in the place – they all seem to be well behaved and schooled on how to act in a restaurant.  No screaming kids like I’ve seen at Casa Grande or some of the chain places.

So, at the tender age of 4 weeks, we bundled up Elias and trucked him down to Can-Can for a Saturday dinner – his first real night out.  We even warned Can-Can that if things looked like they weren’t going well we might need our food to go.  They told us we were welcome regardless and the noise level on a Saturday night would drown out a crying baby.  Turned out it didn’t matter.  He slept through dinner, woke up for dessert and quietly had a bottle as we finished.

For dinner we had a slew of our favourites for appetizers and starters.  Nothing new here.  But, here in the latter part of winter, the ever changing menu offered us some new choices.

M was thrilled with the new Saturday special.  She spied what she called a ‘German’ plate and had no further need to look at the menu.  Pork cutlet, bratwurst, knackwurst, sauerkraut over corned beef, potato with parsley and a dollop of grain mustard.  A German plate at a French restaurant?  No actually Alsatian, no theme issues here.  She thought the knackwurst was ‘ok’ but really enjoyed the brat  and thought the sauerkraut was outstanding.

Another new dish on the menu was braised lamb.  I’m a real fan of braised dishes but a little hesitant in ordering them in a restaurant.  The time involved typically means the dish was made well in advance and can often taste as if it has been sitting on a buffet steam table for far too long.  If it wasn’t the meat comes out tough, from too short a cooking time, and has not had the opportunity to absorb all the flavours from the braising juices.  This was done perfectly.  Meat falling away from the bone, the fat slowly dissolved into the meat to give it the signature rich taste of a long, slow braise.  Umani!

Finn had his usual gougeres and then a dish of macaroni and gruyere.  Our dinner guest was in the mood for meat.  Can-Can has a steak frites dish that is good but can sometimes disappoint.  The strip steak is a little thin and mere seconds (or too long under a heat lamp) send the meat from medium rare to overcooked too often.  The pommes frittes also tend to shed some of the salt applied to them making the steak a little too salty.  It does make a good lunch dish and can satisfy that meat craving but I tend to pass on that choice for dinner.  I recommended that L get the hanger steak – a thicker and more flavourful cut that doesn’t rely on a sauce for taste.  She ordered, it came out beautifully sliced with mashed potatoes.  A perfect medium rare it satisfied her craving perfectly.

So, after coffee, after dinner drinks and dessert the another nice evening ended at Can-Can.  As we left the table next to us exclaimed that they didn’t even realize there was a baby as he had been so quiet (unconscious) throughout the meal.  We’re not ready to declare Elias a baby that can go out anywhere, like we did with Finn, but we are optimistic and will take it step by step.

I’ve received a number of emails and comments asking about my current silence. Suffice it to say that after my little health scare in October I seem to have had my writing impulses removed, pharmaceutically…. I do have a couple of posts in the works and, if the economy improves, may actually start going back out to eat…

For those of you who cared…. Thanks.

For those of you waiting for me to stir the shit… Failed mayoral candidate (and not really a bad guy) Robert Grey did just say ‘Hi’ to me (by name!!!) and is sitting a few bar stools over having a martini…

Had a bit of a health scare over the last week or so.

It all started while relaxing after dinner one evening. Basically an inability to take a deep breath. A bit like someone had stuffed my chest full of cotton balls. I’ve had a couple of bouts of this ever since I quit smoking four years ago. As my lungs have repaired themselves I have become very sensitive to spray cleaners. One good whiff and breathing is suddenly a chore. This, however, was different – it was spontaneous. An hour later it was gone and I put it out of my mind.

A week later, while relaxing after dinner, it happened again. Laboured breathing. Can’t fully inflate lungs. WTF? What was causing this. First thoughts were that I may have developed a full blown food allergy. I’m allergic to a whole host of things but the only thing I really need to avoid is grass (hence the complete lack of a lawn at our house). Maybe one of these minor allergies had lobbied for a promotion to the majors.

Since I had cooked both meals I went over the list of ingredients used to find any commonalities. One items stood out – a new bottle of Grapeseed Oil from Trader Joe’s. A little checking online led me to see a lot of conflicting information. Some swore by it to help cure allergies while others added it to the list of things to avoid if you have a nut allergy. Having a nut allergy would suck. I enjoy snacking on them and use peanut oil on a regular basis. Decided to not use the grapeseed oil anymore and take a wait and see attitude. Didn’t have to wait long.

Wednesday, relaxing after dinner, it happened again. This time we got to add a whole new symptom – flushing. Have you ever had a niacin pill? It dilates all your blood vessels causing you to flush bright red and tingling all over. So, here I am, unable to breath, all my nerve endings firing and looking a bit like I’m about to be served at The Hard Shell with a side of drawn butter. Since dinner didn’t involve any grapeseed oil or other nut products I went back online to see if I could nail this down.

Can I just say here that the Internet isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes you get just enough information to scare the shit out of yourself and, frankly, who ya’ going to call at 11 at night?

Possible diagnosis were pretty ugly. Reading about pulmonary embolisms, diabetic ketoacidosis or the possibility of cyanide poisoning sent me downstairs for a glass of wine. Who was going to run my store if I had to spend a little time at St Mary’s? Time progresses. My breathing got a little easier and off to bed to try to get some sleep.

The next morning renewed my worries. Deep breaths were difficult and I was still flushed. A call to my doc got an 11:30 appointment although subsequent calls to find someone to keep my store open were not quite as successful – this is what happens when you employ VCU students who are taking some of the same classes… what do you mean you both have to take the test today?… Guess VCU professors aren’t that flexible…

So, I closed my store for a bit and trucked over to my docs. They were concerned. A whole lot of questions and a lot of poking an prodding. As time went on the questions were less about my body and more about life. New baby coming. Economy sucks. The election is just dragging on and on. House projects. Blah, blah, blah.

The verdict – stress and anxiety.

Pardon? I nearly suffocate myself due to stress? Turns out, yes.

Seems stress hits you where your weakest. For some people that means stress brings on cardiac events. Others it hits their digestive systems. For me – I become hyper-sensitive to my environment. The concern now is to control the reactions so I don’t progress to point where it becomes so extreme my airways are completely closed off. Lovely.

So I get to spend this week in a drug induced fog. The antihistamine, Xyzal, is really an old school anti-histamine- makes me loopy. The albuterol helps but I’m not sure how I feel about walking around with an inhaler – didn’t the kids who had them in school always get picked on? The hope is to normalize my histamine levels so the stress won’t cause me to drop dead while having nut-bread at Can-Can.

If, after the week is over, I’m still having the attacks then I’ll get to start going through the fun process of narrowing down what allergens are the one’s giving me all the grief. I’m betting that if exposed to Sarah Palin during the scratch tests I’ll have an undesirable reaction.

Food trends come and go. Sometimes they start out great but get overdone – balsamic vinegar. Sometimes they are poorly thought out – nouvelle cuisine (think overpriced tapas). Sometimes they end up wiping out an entire species – Orange Roughy & Chilean Sea Bass. And sometimes they don’t make a lot of sense – crunchy beans. After reading that I was pretty convinced that it was just an error that either the waiter didn’t want to fix or was afraid the chef would yell at him. Or at least I did until Saturday…

We had started out the evening at a beer bash thrown by some friends featuring a number of home made beers. I’m actually not a big fan of beer but they had bottled a raspberry wheat beer that was really quite tasty. Since Finn was in tow we had arrived at the very beginning of the party and as it started to fill up we said our goodbye’s before it got too crazy. Feeling a bit peckish, and since it was close by, we made the quick hop over to Can-Can.

For quite some time we’ve been a fan of their scallop appetizer dishes. Almost always on their seasonally changing menu they change the dish often enough so we have yet to get tired of it. Their latest menu, however, was a bit different. Instead of being pan seared they were roasted. Hrmm. I find it relatively easy to pan sear something to the proper temp but I think I would find roasting a scallop without having it raw or a piece of rubber a bit of a challenge. Having faith in the chef there I ordered.

The scallop had been roasted ‘au poivre’, just enough pepper to add flavour and at the right grind so it wasn’t crunchy or just dust. They were cooked perfectly and the difference in flavour and texture was a nice change from the ubiquitous sear everyone else does. The bacon, potato, and corn broth were tasty until I bit down on the English Peas. Firm would be polite. I know, English Peas are supposed to be firmer than Sweet Peas but these took effort to bite down on and were dry inside. Ugh. Firm and crunchy veg are good, firm and crunchy beans and peas – not so much. I enjoyed the rest of the dish so I didn’t whine or even really ask and I would order it again. It did make me wonder if we were witnessing a trend starting it’s march through RVA. Not quite sure how I feel about it. Guess we’ll have to wait and see if it was a cooking aberration or if we’ll have crunchiness showing up all over town.

The rest of the meal was great. I really loved the roasted red snapper and the fact that they have carafes of good wine. With M in her present condition I don’t always want a full bottle to myself and a 1/2 carafe is perfect. The service was great.

The full moon on Saturday (or there abouts) helped make for good cat catching. Managed to catch four cats, actually four kittens – two sets of siblings. Unfortunately one of the kittens was too young to be fixed but at least he got a good check up. The score, if you keeping count…

5 female/5 males – Trapped Fixed and Released
1 kitten – Too Young – Medically Checked & Released
1 male – Not Healthy or Injured – Euthanized
1 female – Didn’t Learn Lesson & Trapped Again
1 female – Didn’t Survive Procedure

Next month will be round #6!

I love raw bar. Set before me plates of bivalves and crustaceans and I am a happy person. The first restaurant I worked at in the United States, Bart’s Wharf in Portland, OR, was a master of raw bar. Huge platters of raw and steamed seafood, most fresh from the Oregon coast, flowed freely. I was never a real fan of bay shrimp but the chef would make me a sandwich for dinner made with fresh bay shrimp. The taste was amazing. Sadly, I’ve never been able to recreate that simple sandwich. It was a shame the restaurant didn’t survive. Run by Bart’s kids it became stuck in a timewarp with teal vinyl booths and some of the original waitresses still there from the opening in the early 1950’s. They should have been there for the renaissance of the upscale lobster-steakhouse in the 1990’s but didn’t make it.

True raw bar has gone out of style to an extent and the number of places to find it has dwindled. In RVA the choices are limited. There’s some offerings at Bookbinder’s but I know way to much about the inner workings of that place to ever eat there again. If I want chicken instead of turtle in my overpriced Snapper Soup I’ll order chicken soup…. (maybe, someday, I’ll write a bit about my experiences there). There’s Morton’s and a couple of other upscale eateries but there it is more of an afterthought and not true raw bar where you order plate after plate.

Nope, in Richmond there are only two real choices (I am sure after writing this I will get a few more suggestions….). First would be Can-Can. Bathtub full of ice, shucked and prepared in view of the customer with the added bonus of much better sauces than your standard cocktail sauce. Best eaten at the bar with a martini but don’t forget to fill your pockets with pebbles to get a bartenders attention….

The other place would be The Hard Shell, the restaurant that took the wind out of the sails of Awful Arthur’s in the Bottom. I’ve been going to The Hard Shell since it opened. When it first opened it had great food, good drinks, and really good raw bar. For years it was my go-to place, showing up at least once a month. Now, not so much. With all the great new places that have opened up in the past 7 or 8 years we might make it once or twice a year and rarely is it mentioned when we’re talking about where we want to eat tonight. Sunday night we needed a place to celebrate a bit. M had become a newly minted Privacy Expert and had the certification to prove it. With gas poking a hole in our dining budget we decided to hit The Hard Shell and indulge in their All You Can Eat crab-fest.

We had hit their Sunday special in the past but I usually didn’t do the All You Can Eat special. I’m a fan of Snow Crab (especially when it’s 1/2 price) but the crab on the All You Can Eat was some sort of crab (sorry I’ve forgotten the exact type) that had paper thin skin and unsatisfying meat. Basically the little old lady of crabs. At some point, however, it seems they changed it to my favoured Snow Crab. So, off we went.

It was very packed when we arrived so we sat at the bar to wait for a table. A few observations… The bar was dirty. The staff all looked like they were thinking ‘I can’t believe I couldn’t dump this shift’. I actually saw a customer raise her hand and snap for a server. I think I could hear the snapped at server’s eyes rolling… It was a collision of fine dining meets cheapskate hell. We got lucky, they decided to open the banquet room and we got a table in fully air conditioned bliss away from the hoi poloi.

To start we had a few apps. M ordered the Lobster Dip. A ramican of soupy dip surrounded by chips with a presentation by TGI-Fridays. The level of peppers in the watery dip rendered the addition of the lobster moot.

I ordered a dozen steamed clams and a half pound of crawfish. Presentation was again less than inspired and while the little necks were acceptable the crawfish was sub-standard. Maybe I ordered out of season but many had recently molted and the shells were mushy while on others the meat was dark not light and sweet. I didn’t finish them.

For an entree M had the Steak & Lobster. Petite filet and a smallish lobster tail. Due to her current condition she had to order the steak medium (she still eats it MR at home when we know the source – Belmont Butchery – and are sure of proper storage and preparation). At that temp the steak was small and disappointing. She declared no more steaks in restaurants until after the baby arrives. The small tail seemed fine, although M said it was a bit gritty like it hadn’t been rinsed well, until I got the bill. The dish is listed at ‘market price’ (I know, we should have asked) and I really think that for $40 the tail should have been a little more substantial.

While she ate I gorged on the All You Can Eat Snow Crab. Nearly 4 pounds of the tasty things. The last plate they brought out had a distinctly overpowering brine smell that brought my gluttony to a screeching halt. The support service for my feast was lacking. Not enough lemons, forgetting butter, no extra napkins. I actually had to ask for a shell cracker since he hadn’t brought one out and when he did it had rust marks on it.

The service was mediocre but I have a hard time really blaming the waiter. It is very hard to switch gears from fine dining to turn and burn especially when a lot of people who hit ‘All You Can Eat’s’ are terrible tippers. The kitchen was also collapsing and you could hear servers arguing over ownership of plates in the window. His service wasn’t the best but I still tipped at 20%, albeit pre-tax for a change.

They made what I can only describe as an akward and not well thought out change in the bathrooms. Paper towels have been removed to be replaced with air dryers. The placement was bad unless they intended it to be triggered and blow on your back while your washing your hands and while the lack of towels makes it hard to clean a toddler they seem to have forgotten what they serve. A lot of their dishes are steamed sea food and involve dipping said seafood in butter. Add alcohol to the mix and you’ve got messes. In my case a well buttered goatee. After washing the butter out I really don’t want to stick my face in a hot air dryer, a towel will do just fine.

I think The Hard Shell is due for an overhaul. The raw bar at Can-Can seems much more fresh and exciting. Their menu looks the same as it did in 90’s, quality is down, presentation perfunctory, and service is slip-shod. I think it may be time to look for a new place for my snow crab fix.

Wednesday Evening Part #1 -

Another Wednesday, another swim lesson with Finn and a follow up of bevvies and food. Through a bit of creative scheduling Mrs In Vino Veritas and Jack joined us for an early happy hour at Havana 59.

Back in the day (last century…) Havana-59 was a constant hang out for myself and my co-workers from a certain local credit card company. Smoking of over-priced cigars, swilling of single malts (because you know you can taste the difference after your taste buds have been overwhelmed by some Haitian piece of tobacco-weed), and general debauchery. Countless weekends as the ‘brunch destination’ during recruitment weekends. Yes, this was the jumping off point for several thousand Capital One employees and their status in the dating pool for the more senior staff. With all the company money spent there you really have to wonder how they got into the trouble they did. Why bring the attention of the IRS to a profitable business? Pay the damn taxes and keep printing the money! Greed, the downfall of everyone from Studio 54 to the local bar of the moment.

So, it was with a bit of surprise that I heard a little bit of buzz about H-59 over the last couple of weeks. Did I really want to go back there? Did I really want to spend my own money there (no longer in servitude to Cap-1)? Back in the day it was expensive, inconsistent food, middling service. Not someplace you go on your own dime. What the hell… Let’s give it try….

The crowd I was meeting seemed more interesting than the place. Mrs In Vino Veritas and Jack. Add Finn to the mix and it looked to be an interesting get-together. We arrived with Jack already at the scene and the bartenders started the martini’s flowing. First impression was bar-keeps interested in keeping the drinks full and the customers happy – a change from the recent experiences at Can-Can. Mrs Vino arrived and we kicked it up another notch.

Drink recap -

Martini’s – whether gin or vodka they were done well and had the brands you want.

Mixed Drinks – we had a few – good strong mixes served in glasses without lipstick – always a good sign to me….

Mojitos – disappointment of the evening. They muddled the mint into simple syrup in advance (why?) and let it sit. The addition of a shot of sweet and sour mix killed it completely. In need of a major overhaul, this was inexcusable.

The orginal plan had been to enjoy their upstairs balcony. Relaxing, airy, and a different menu from the main room. Seems they only open it on Friday and Saturday. Kinda sad for those of us who prefer to avoid the amateur drinkers on the weekends. They say that they will start opening the balcony on Thursdays soon… seems a bit late in the RVA balcony season to do that…. should have been open in March.

While I was drinking Finn needed some food. Sadly, the menu that IVV had the other night upstairs was not available and it was a bit difficult to find something for Finn. The first app I chose for him, and me to taste, was the Cuban Spring Roll. The plate came out and Finn dug into the shoe-string fries that came with this. I managed to grab a couple and they were nice, crispy and salty – not greasy. The rolls were impressive. I can’t recall many upscale Asian restaurants who could do a roll so crispy with no greasiness. Too bad the stuffing was so sad. Basically a bland pulled pork. Oddly, Finn loved the mustard sauce that came with it. It tasted a bit like mustard infused with gherkins. He spent the next 20 minutes dipping his fingers into it and licking off the sauce.

As the evening progressed Finn got increasingly restless. First he used my cell-phone to take pictures, then IVV’s Blackberry for gratuitous button pushing, and then he got hold of Jack’s cell… Somehow Finn managed to call, repeatedly, an ex of Jacks. The poor girl, obviously not listening to the 3-year-old babble left on the voicemail (or was that the kind of message Jack leaves?), called back a while later and…..

Jack was an actual gentleman. From what I could hear from his cell she was a bit pissed. He never let on and tried to explain. Not his fault she thought he was looking for a hook-up when my 3-year-old was ‘toddler’-dialing.

As Finn finished his Cuban spring rolls I ordered a bit of pizza for him. Sadly this took a little too long and he hit his expiration. The staff at H-59 did a very nice job of humouring him and allowing him to run rampant around a portion of the restaurant. As an odd aside Jack took a lot of joy playing and distracting him. Perhaps there is a whole new population, single moms, that Jack can debauch.

Oh, the pizza. Crust like crispy naan bread, cheese, onions, duck bacon. Very tasty.

I think we’ll go back…. just not for the mojitos….

Recently there has been much debate about two eateries by the local blogging community. So much so that I am not even going to try to link to all them. Just too difficult with my nearly antiquated Mac that will not allow me to cut and paste links. So if you really want to read all of the reviews and subsequent discussions go here and read, I’ll wait…. OK, are you up to speed? Good. Now, let’s move on to our adventure….

Finn and I started the evening at Can-Can. After getting more wet in the freak thunderstorm than at his swim lesson we had arrived in a fairly damp condition. We pulled up to the bar and grabbed an extra barstool for the impending arrival of RVA Foodie and our discussion on the dangers of cutting onions. Seems both of us had damged ourselves. Myself while slicing where a slide of the outer ring of the onion sent the knife through the side of my finger down to the fingernail. RVA with the error all of us fear the most – a mandolin mistake. I’m still missing a piece of my thumb from my last careless use of this culinary death trap.

As I savored my Tanq 10 martini I pondered the discussion that had gone on over the last month or so about Can-Can. No real complaints about the food, really mostly raves, it was increasingly inconsistent service – mostly at the bar – that had everyone all up in arms. I quickly realized that I would be a bad judge of the bar service. The managers all know me, or actually they know Finn (I’m just the one who pays his bill), as do most of the bartenders – one is even a customer at my bookstore. Besides that, I tend to be a bit pushy. I won’t give them a chance to ignore me. I did notice they had one more bartender on then they usually did at this hour and that they were keeping much more busy than last we were in. Perhaps the scathing letter from In Vino Veritas had done the trick. RVA Foodie arrived, was greeted by the bartender and…. oddly, was not offered a drink. I’m guessing we should call that a fail.

At this point as Finn and I had been there an hour before Foodies arrival and Finn was making the transition from quiet, content and drawing to his strange need to circle the restaurant. The Can-Can staff are very indulgent of Finn and servers and managers played with him and helped me keep an eye on his travels. (Parental Note – Had there been any diners at the tables or had he disturbed anyone trying to eat I was prepared to remove him – as it was just after 5 everyone was at the bar.)

We noshed on some raw bar and one of the managers bent the rules and got Finn some gougeres off the dinner menu. Sensing Finn was ready to go we asked for the check. Although we had asked for separate checks it came combined. Sigh, fail. Honestly, we were never asked if we wanted to order anything, food or drink. Not once was there a spontaneous offer of a drink refill. I suppose if they are going for aloof French service they have achieved their goal. Personally, I think they have quite a bit of re-training to do as they seem to have drifted from their basic level of service they had when they first opened.

Saying good-bye to RVA Foodie, Finn and I took off for something more substantial to eat. Pizza sounded good so it was off to Tarrantino’s. Half the bloggers seem to love this new place while the other half have been completely unimpressed by it. Prior to Fridays visit we had eaten with them twice. Once at the restaurant and once by take-away. Eating in-house the crisp was perfect and I raved. Eating at home…. the crust had steamed to sogginess (not sure if that is there fault or the cities founders for building Richmond over a humid swamp…) and we had the most distressing of topping slides. Basically it was a wreck. IVV had eaten there last week and declared the crust soft and the pizza greasy. Time to recheck the in-house, superior in my mind, product.

I ordered two small pies. One a red Hawaiian, the other a seafood bianca. No puddle of grease on either and the crust was perfect. Disappointments? I had a couple. The pineapple on the Hawaiian contained so much moisture that there was a puddle of liquid in the center of the red pizza. That moisture may have been the driver of our topping slide that we had at home. The seafood on the bianca…. the scallops (bay) were firm and tasty, the shrimp were also bay and were lacking. Just this side of fishiness the pizza would have been better served using chopped jumbo shrimp rather than the bay. This was also our first try with the bianca – excellent.

We took the remainders home for snacks. Trying a piece cold that evening I found the crust to still be firm with a bit of crunchiness. So at least we know it travels well after being allowed to cool.

Bottom line – Can-Can needs more friendly engaging bartenders that are more service oriented. The current level of service is more nightclub than upscale restaurant. Pizza at Tarrantino’s needs to be eaten in-house, either in the main restaurant or back in the pizza parlor. Do not allow it to steam itself to sogginess. Not even out to the parking lot. They either need to put steam vents in the boxes or we can’t do carryout until Fall when the humidity drops down to a more pizza friendly level….

My mother was in town for the weekend, so, like any other good Richmonder, we took her to Millie’s. Year after year, list after list, you see this place at or near the top – mentioned as much for the food as the lines to get in. It had been nearly ten years since I had been and, at least back then, if it was Sunday brunch I was either hung over or still buzzed. Not the best way to judge food. Perfect time for a fresh look.

We arrived in the area just as they were opening at 9 and started looking for a parking spot. All these high rent lofts built in the old tobacco warehouses didn’t feel the need to provide adequate parking and as they have filled up so to have the streets around them. Fifteen minutes later we found a spot several blocks away. The window for immediate seating had closed at Millie’s and we had to wait for a table. The bright side to this is they have waiting down to a science at Millie’s and we quickly had drinks in hand.

I took this time to peruse the surroundings. A couple of interesting signs caught my attention. On the brunch menu on the wall it stated – No Substitutions. I am a constant offender of making changes to dishes but am also cognizant of the busyness of the restaurant. If it’s too busy I refrain. A small change may sound simple to you but while many chefs strive to be artiste’s, when they are one ’sauce on the side’ away from disaster they are more like machines. Small changes can completely destroy their concentration and flow. Don’t do it. If your allergic, don’t order it – it’s just as likely to be put on and then brushed off the plate by the equally hurried server.

Another sign of note was to inform that incomplete parties will not be seated. More places need to do this as well as enforcing it. You may see the restaurant as half empty and can’t understand why they want you to wait at the bar. The staff sees the restaurant as half full and know how many tables are coming in. A large party that trickles in will order one or two drinks at a time. What could have taken the server one order and one trip to the bar has now just consumed an exponentially huge amount of time. Will you remember this when it comes time to tip or will you only remember that you had to wait a long time for your drinks because the waiter had to take care of his other tables before they felt forgotten? Even an incomplete smaller party can disrupt the flow. When everyone finally arrives you may be ready to start but the server has just been seated a new table and, while he may have been standing around for the last ten minutes, now has to decide who gets priority on his time – the table that’s been sitting for half and hour waiting for a late arrival or the people who were on time? At this point don’t forget to listen for the chef to start screaming why the waiters are all ordering at once rather than spacing things out… Off my soapbox, time to be seated.

Into a booth with drinks in hand. Coffee refilled and the drinking water is cold (I know this because Finn dumped his in my lap). In a flash orders are taken and a short time later the food is on the table – Millie’s would never be able to cope with their volume if they weren’t fast and efficient. What can I say about the food? A little more creative than your usual brunch spot, but not by much. Eggs Benedict on a bagel with grav lox instead of the ubiquitous Smithfield Ham, eggs scrambled with lobster and mushrooms, and finally the Devil’s Mess (eggs with spicy sausage, veg and curry topped with cheese and avocado). All good combinations expertly done. My only concerns would be that it was all a tad over spiced and that the puff pastry on my lobster and eggs was cold – also the tug of war between the staff on the volume of the stereo was really annoying.

Does it deserve the hype? Everyone goes, there’s always a wait, it must be good, right? Both Karsen’s and Bacchus are equally, if not more, creative. Can-Can is nearly as busy yet manages (usually) a higher service level. Even off-spring LuLu’s looks a bit more creative and may be a more relaxing choice (haven’t been yet for brunch so am really just guessing). I think it’s the inertia of the crowd that puts Millie’s at the top year after year. Sure the spice levels will cut through that fuzz left over on your tongue from last nights drinks but it can also cover up any errors on ingredients or preparation. Let’s see how much of that $4 gas we can waste looking for parking. The servers are friendly and efficient but overworked and coffees and drinks don’t get refilled. Are you waiting for brunch or waiting to be seen?

Bottom line is I think Millie’s is good but not worth the wait or the aggravation of getting a table. I think going once a decade with out of town guests is about the right frequency.

NOTE~
We had actually planned on going to Cirrus originally. Strangely they don’t open till 11, is it just me or is that a little late to start? I checked their brunch menu that morning and nearly fell asleep reading it. Their dinner menu is very intriguing but the brunch menu could have been copied from Brunches-R-Us…..

Last month my sister came to visit from Philadelphia and we took her to brunch at Can-Can. While Can-Can is normally, and still is, one of our favourite restaraunts the brunch was a bit of a disappointment. Of particular note were the heavy, bitter beignets. I whined a bit and then moved on. Elsewhere in the city, this little whine started something stirring.

Fellow blogger, Paul Hammond, got a craving for beignets and put out the call to his readers for suggestions on where to get beignets to satisfy his need as he has some sort of tragic history of deep frying on his own. Ideas and reminisces poured in from near and far. Mr Hammond recalled that at one point beignets were served at a little cajun restaurant downtown called Louisiana Flair. I’m not sure what kind of cajoling or threats Mr Hammond used but the chef at Louisiana Flair agreed to bring back the beignets, at least on a limited basis.

That brings us to this gray Wednesday morning. Finn and I were up early enough for a little stop on our way to the store. Louisiana Flair is, in keeping to it’s cajun roots, a mish-mosh of mismatched chairs and tables. Porcelain masks and feathers line the walls with a smattering of Mardi Gras beads here and there. Just enough to add character but not to the point of gaudy. A big chalkboard over the cooking area outlined the offerings. A quick glance bespoke of poboys of various types but that’s not what we were there for so I didn’t pay it a whole lot of attention.

There was actually a little line when we arrived so we took our place but we must have had some sort of needy look so the chef called out the question to me. ‘Beignets?’ I affirmed and went to find a place for Finn and I to sit. Juice for the little boy and coffee from the thermal carafe for me. The coffee was steaming hot and from Carytown Coffee. Quite good. While we waited for the fried dough to arrive we met and chatted with another local blogger, Veron from Veronica’s Test Kitchen. We must get down to the Farmer’s Market this Saturday to get some of her macarons!

A few minutes later the plate of three large beignets arrived. Properly dusted with powdered sugar they looked wonderful. Some sort of jam or preserve came on the side but I pushed it out of the way, not wanting to have to de-jam a 3-year-old. We dug in. A little crispy, light yet doughy, sweet but not overloaded. Perfect. Coffee, apple juice, 3 large beignets: $5. We might have to stop in next Wednesday!