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226 East Olmos Drive
(near the Circle in Olmos Park)
N.B.: This was written last October, but not published until now. I don't know why. Anyway, some of the details mentioned may now be out of date, but I'll not be going back to find out.
H. L. Mencken, the sage of Baltimore back when Baltimore was something, is probably most famous for observing that "no one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public." Whoever the people are behind this new Olmos Park restaurant, they doubtless hope Mencken is as wise as he sounds.
There was nothing intrinsically wrong with our experience there. We had heard nothing about the place, but had just noticed its presence in the space twice abandoned by a restaurant we sometimes liked, and decided to try it. To be honest, we weren't even completely sure it actually was a restaurant before we pulled up in the parking lot, and saw tables and chairs inside.
It's one of those places that thinks it's classy to spell out the prices in text instead of numbers; and whoever wrote the menu has decided that punctuation need not enhance understanding. Those who enjoy studying a menu will be assured of a rousing good time.
But not a very long good time. The menu is short, with four categories of plates (fowl, sea, land and earth. Can one be more pompous.) The wine list is skimpy enough that even my wife was uninterested in any of its offerings. I, unusually, went for a glass, despite the confusing listing, and despite the name-dropping the waiter engaged in to describe what it was.
Everything is a la carte here, because you can charge more that way. My wife chose the fish of the day, while I picked the pastrami duck, mustard, pumpernickel, caraway twenty-three. We also split a side order of the asparagus, mushroom, cream ten.
The wine I'd ordered ("Bin 27 High on the Hog - California, Grenache blanc, voignier, roussanne, marsanne nine" -- "Think chardonnay," says the waiter) costs five dollars a bottle in the store, but the good people at Folc feel justified in charging seven times as much, because the stuff is made by some people retired from a well-known upscale grocery chain. It was a little on the sharp side, as one would expect of a $5 bottle of wine, but drinkable.
The dishes arrived individually. This appears to be an affectation much beloved by restaurateurs who prefer not to take the trouble to instruct their kitchens in how to arrange for orders to coincide. I guess that's just too much to ask these days. So we got our side order first, then my wife's fish, then my duck. The lag between arrivals was just enough to irk without becoming a serious problem; in fact the two main dishes arrived close enough together to suggest the waitress bringing them simply doesn't have the strength, or possibly skill, to carry two plates at the same time.
My wife's fish was on the order of ceviche: not cooked. She seemed to enjoy it, though not a lot; her only comment on it was that if they were going to serve you raw fish, they ought to tell you that in the description, either on the menu or by the waiter. I don't eat uncooked meats, so I didn't try it.
The asparagus was good quality produce in a carefully made cream sauce, with just enough thinly sliced mushrooms (cremona, I think) to enhance the texture. It was the only thing that pleased without qualification.
My disdain for uncooked meats almost extended to my duck, which was served close enough to that state to cause me to consider sending it back. Although I chose not to -- who wants to be the person at the table not eating? -- I was uncomfortable enough eating the stuff that I would not make that same choice again. And fortunately, there wasn't enough of the stuff on the plate to concern me for long. I will admit, though, that the mix of flavours and textures in the dish would have been deliciously intriguing, had the meat been cooked sufficiently.
The front page of the restaurant's web site says that it offers "American contemporary family-style plates." This is where marketing hype departs from reality and misleads: family-style plates are like serving platters, containing enough food for a group of people. These dishes barely contain enough for one, even if they are intended to be shared. For any group larger than two, they provide nothing more than overpriced amuse-bouches.
The dishes arrived individually. This appears to be an affectation much beloved by restaurateurs who prefer not to take the trouble to instruct their kitchens in how to arrange for orders to coincide. I guess that's just too much to ask these days. So we got our side order first, then my wife's fish, then my duck. The lag between arrivals was just enough to irk without becoming a serious problem; in fact the two main dishes arrived close enough together to suggest the waitress bringing them simply doesn't have the strength, or possibly skill, to carry two plates at the same time.My wife's fish was on the order of ceviche: not cooked. She seemed to enjoy it, though not a lot; her only comment on it was that if they were going to serve you raw fish, they ought to tell you that in the description, either on the menu or by the waiter. I don't eat uncooked meats, so I didn't try it.
The asparagus was good quality produce in a carefully made cream sauce, with just enough thinly sliced mushrooms (cremona, I think) to enhance the texture. It was the only thing that pleased without qualification.
My disdain for uncooked meats almost extended to my duck, which was served close enough to that state to cause me to consider sending it back. Although I chose not to -- who wants to be the person at the table not eating? -- I was uncomfortable enough eating the stuff that I would not make that same choice again. And fortunately, there wasn't enough of the stuff on the plate to concern me for long. I will admit, though, that the mix of flavours and textures in the dish would have been deliciously intriguing, had the meat been cooked sufficiently.
The front page of the restaurant's web site says that it offers "American contemporary family-style plates." This is where marketing hype departs from reality and misleads: family-style plates are like serving platters, containing enough food for a group of people. These dishes barely contain enough for one, even if they are intended to be shared. For any group larger than two, they provide nothing more than overpriced amuse-bouches.
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