Quick, First-Bite Review: Salt of the Earth

The long-awaited and much-hyped Salt of the Earth -- well, long-awaited and much-hyped in certain circles of food-obsessed freaks like myself -- opened several months back. Since its opening, Salt has received some exceedingly glowing reviews from the official food media, and on the various nonofficial outlets, it's also been described (mostly) with adjectives that suggest the people really liked it.



I (joined by my wife and several other friends) finally managed to make it there on Saturday. And I have to say that it lived up to its billing. Everything I had, from the cocktails to the food, was excellent. I won't go into too much detail, but it included:

Drinks: My vodka cocktail (Boyd & Blair), and the sip or two of my friend's gin cocktail (Bluecoat) were really good, but I think the gin was better. Then there was the beer "cocktail," which blew away me and the two others in our group who also got it. Never has a chocolate stout been used in such genius fashion

Appetizers: Octopus (me) and salt cod (wife), both of which were delicious, the perfect size, and perfectly prepared. The octopus was ridiculously tender. Man was I glad it was still on the  menu.

Entrees: Duck breast (me) and pork loin (wife), broken record territory, but prepared perfectly, great flavors and textures, and perfect portion sizes.

Dessert: Only two options to choose from, and only one that is sweet, so went with the sweet: little squares of chocolate pudding, a scoop of coconut ice cream topped with some type of foam, a few roasted hazelnuts and this goji berry glaze smeared on the plate. Hit all the right notes. The chocolate and coconut really like each other. A great way to end the meal.

The space is very cool. The massive chalkboard wall with the menu is almost daunting, if not kind of hard to read, depending on your angle. I suspect I could sit at the bar along the open kitchen for 3-4 hours and not get bored in the least, particularly if I had a few of those beer cocktails.

Our group was large enough that we sat at one of the big reservation-only tables upstairs, which are isolated just enough for the group to be able to talk without feeling like we'd been banished to another place entirely.

The service was warm and the food came out at just the right clip.

Overall, a great experience, and I hope to make it back in the not-so-distant future. Well done, Salt of the Earth.

First-Bite Review: Caffe Davio

Caffe Davio, on East Carson Street on the South Side, is small, warm, and comforting. And it's BYOB. Great qualities for any restaurant.

And from there the overall experience is fair to good. The service, generally speaking, was adequate, but could be better with some small changes.

The most important part, the food, generally speaking, was good. For some people, this is the kind of place they would return to again and again (e.g., on my way back from the restroom, I heard a broad, muscular fellow proclaim "I'm in heaven" as he sliced into a veal chop). For me, once was enough.



I had read some comments on Urban Spoon that Caffe Davio had recently changed its menu and was now serving the typical "Goombah" food that can be had at any of the chain and non-chain Italian restaurants that infest many U.S. cities. I would argue that assessment isn't correct. This wasn't just red sauce and sickeningly fatty cream sauces and lots of breaded chicken.

That said, much of what is on the menu -- admittedly based on one visit -- is one-note cooking. You're not going to find new or innovative flavors or food pairings here. And, again, for some people that may just be fine and dandy.

Perhaps what defines Caffe Davio is the sheer volume of food. A trip here means that, if you so choose, you will have dinner for at least the next night, possibly two!

One problem with such volume -- aside from what I would argue is that it is an attempt to compensate for or obscure the limitations on flavor/texture/technique inherent in the food -- is that, as a diner, you're constantly distracted by the thought: "I have to be careful how much I eat of this course, because there are three more coming!"

Our biggest mistake was ordering an appetizer. I wish the waitress/hostess had advised us against this. She did explain that with your entree you also got a salad and a pasta dish. But I like to order an appetizer. It lets you probe the kitchen's repertoire. At Dinette, for example, the pizzas could be considered the star. But the appetizers -- whether they be a beef carpaccio with at least one unique component (e.g., nuts or a poached egg!) or, as my wife recently had, a grilled shishito pepper (who knew there was such a thing) with goat cheese bits and fried almonds -- are a whole world unto their own. To skip an appetizer at Dinette, you see, would be a huge mistake.

But back to Davio. Before the appetizer even came we received a large basket of quite delicious fresh bread, which was accompanied by three equally enjoyable dips: chickpea and roasted red peppers, white beans and basil, basil-infused olive oil. This was a nice way to start the meal, but already my wife and I were saying "We have to take it easy, there's a lot more food on the way."

The appetizer was Bay scallops carbonara, a large bowl of bay scallops with a medium-to-heavy cream sauce, big chunks of bacon, and peas. This was an entree masquerading as an appetizer. Yet, even so, it was well prepared - the scallops were tender and the sauce was flavorful without being overpowering. It actually made for a fourth dip for the bread. We ate maybe a third of it (not to mention more bread).

Salad: A huge plate of iceberg lettuce, feta, roasted red peppers, a sprinkling of white beans, with a balsamic vinaigrette. Nothing fancy or different, but, nevertheless, it tasted good. The iceberg was really crunchy and cool, and the beans were a nice touch. Maybe ate a third of it.

With our wine and the bread, we could have stopped here and been perfectly content.

Pasta: Each of us received a bowl of cavatappi (a longish, curly pasta) with a passable-to-good marinara, shaved Parmesan, and (again) fresh basil leaves. If ever there was an afterthought on a menu, this is it. If you want to do a pasta dish, do something special, something that cleans the palate and sets the stage for the entree. Something I'd give my kids on a weeknight does not meet that standard.

Entrees: For me, a New York Strip (I was going to order a pasta, but there was already a pasta side, right?), with melted fresh mozzarella on top, resting on a mound of sticky risotto, as if it had been sitting in a pot for too long. After a bite or two, I pulled off the fresh mozzarella, which had congealed into a sealant. Generally, the steak was properly cooked and tender, but a bit underseasoned.

For my wife, a gargantuan veal chop topped with melted fontina, accompanied literally by one-third head each of steamed cauliflower and broccoli. The bites I had of the veal chop were moist and flavorful. The fontina was a distraction. The cauliflower bite I took tasted overwhelmingly of garlic. Neither of us ate half of our meat. I took only a few bites of the risotto.

Having already eaten more in the previous hour than we would ever eat in an entire day, we figured we'd might as well go the Full Monty and split a desert. And that was actually a good choice. A marscapone cheese cake topped with berries: light, creamy, delicious.

Of course, desert isn't necessary, it turns out, because, little did we know, you also get as part of your meal house-made cookies: a few biscotti and a few long, thin lemon-flavored cookie the name of which I forget. With an espresso or desert liqueur, that would be a fine desert on its own.

Even with a gift certificate and bringing our own wine, the bill was not inexpensive. For that money (if you include the amount of the gift certificate), even if I had to purchase the alcohol at the restaurant, I could get a truly spectacular meal at a place like Eleven.

So, yes, for some Caffe Davio may indeed be restaurant heaven. For me, it was a one and done, leaving me feeling overly full (we didn't even eat the leftovers the next day) and thinking that this place is missing the bigger picture of what a quality Italian restaurant is supposed to be.

Azzeria (Wexford)

Being a true pizza snob is a difficult existence. Simply put, often I'd rather go without than eat an inferior slice just because it's technically pizza. There are times when hunger, convenience, and a lack of options gets the better of me. But, as a general rule, I try to avoid poorly made pizza.

What are the/my criteria for "poorly made"? Well, let's start with the crust, which, remarkably, is the most underappreciated component of a pizza. Think about a crust from a typical chain, whether it be Dominoes or a smaller, local chain. It typically has the texture of damp cardboard, lacking any crispiness or chewiness, and has almost no flavor, with the exception being that of grease.

Next the sauce. Again, the sauce at most pizza joints taste primarily of grease, excessive salt, and tomato paste. There is little actual flavor of tomato or even any herbs. There is also often an excessive overabundance of sauce. The toppings? Mass-produced, tasteless mozzarella, and, again, typically too much of it. Mushrooms? Canned or dried, sad little things that taste like and resemble jigsaw puzzle pieces. Olives. Boring black, likely from a large can. Sausage? Crumbly, dry, closer to bird droppings than a meat product. Pepperoni? Well, pepperoni is pepperoni. The only difference typically is that of quantity.



Which brings me to a relatively new addition to the northern 'burbs of Pittsburgh, Azzeria. Located in the Village at Pine on Rt. 19 in Wexford, this is a second location -- the original is in (or at least on the border of) Mt. Lebanon -- for Azzeria. And I can say without hesitation that the pizza at Azzeria is quite good.

Is it on par with Dinette? No. Then again, few pizzas are.

Generally, though, the pizza at Azzeria is at least two steps above what can be had at most predominantly pizza joints and at other restaurants that also offer pizza on the menu.

The crust could use a little more salt, and often times could use another minute in the brick oven, but generally it has the flavor and texture that you would expect from what is in effect homemade bread, and serves well as a canvas for the toppings.

Speaking of the toppings, Azzeria seems to understand the fundamental importance of moderation. The sauce or cheese or various toppings are not heaped on and seem to be of high quality (even the pepperoni).

The plain red is quite good. Tangy tomato flavor and the fresh mozzarella tastes, well, fresh. The "white," topped sparingly with 4 cheeses, including a whipped fresh ricotta, is also well done. You can taste the different cheeses with no single one dominating.

The vodka sauce pizza, an idea I like, is an interesting offering and mostly successful. The beans & greens pizza, another good idea, is overwhelmed by too much garlic. I suppose this appeals to some people, but I'd rather taste the bitterness of the escarole and creaminess of the beans. My favorites are the white and my personal concoction of sausage and escarole.

Also on offer are some salads, a bit small for my liking, but fairly fresh, and soups, which I've yet to have. The wings, which are doused in herbs and fired up in the brick oven, are smoky and meaty (could be a bit crispier) and a welcome change from the overly sauced and underflavored wings that litter the menus of restaurants across the city/country.

There is also delectably creamy and locally made gelato, made by Mulberry Creamery. Among the many flavors on offer, the "Death by Chocolate" lives up to its moniker and the pistachio tastes like pistachios. An excellent way to end a visit here.

The setup at Azzeria is a little atypical. There is no wait staff. You place your order at the counter and a few minutes later they call your name to pick up your food. Herein can be a problem, because let's say you need to get an extra drink or some gelato or, heck, another pizza, you have to wait in the ordering line, which, depending on how busy things are, can take 5-10 minutes. Yes, typically you'd have to wait for your server to get any of things, but at least you'd be sitting.

It's also BYOB, with small wine glasses and corkscrews available. Unfortunately, there is no liquor store in the plaza. The new Giant Eagle in the same plaza will soon have a liquor license soon, though. The restaurant itself is wide open, with a few booths and tall two- and four-top tables, and garage door-like walls that open up to ample outdoor seating for when the weather feels like cooperating.

Overall, I'm a big fan of Azzeria and am glad it's here. With so few good dining options in this neck of the woods, it's nice to know there is a kid-friendly place where we can have an affordable, quality meal in a comfortable environment.

Sushi in 'Da Burbs

For whatever reason, I've eaten out more often than usual over the last two months. One place I've returned to several times is Yama Sushi on Rt. 228 in Cranberry/Seven Fields. Overall, the quality of the sushi and entrees we've had has been quite good.



First, the raw stuff. It's always been respectable, and at times has bordered on excellent. The yellow tail has been the most consistent performer. The tuna and salmon have been uneven, really enjoyable on one or two occasions and unremarkable on others. The fluke was particularly tender and tasty. The few rolls we've had have also been well prepared and fresh.

The apps and entrees. Again, these have been consistently good. The do bin mushi soup was really enjoyable: good portion of seafood and fresh, bright but tame flavors. Same for the nabe yaki udon noodles. Neither bowls you over, but simple and welcoming to eat.

I went for lunch one day and, for some strange reason, got the salmon teriyaki bento box. I say strange because I long ago stopped ordering salmon -- well, cooked salmon -- in restaurants. It's like there is a rule that salmon must be overcooked and underseasoned. And teriyaki just has come to be synonymous for overly sweet and sticky.

But, for whatever reason, on this day, teriyaki salmon sounded good. And it didn't disappoint. The salmon was moist. The teriyaki had a nice balance of tang and savory, and it really complemented the salmon instead of overwhelming it...

Food dork alert: On the Top Chef finale, Stefan just used a curse word and it was not bleeped out. I assume that will be edited out when it's replayed later this week in the middle of the afternoon. OK, back to your regularly scheduled food blog...

Accompanying the salmon were some perfectly steamed veg and a large "cup" of miso soup. An enjoyable lunch, indeed.

There aren't many options for sushi out this way, and Yama Sushi does its sushi and nonsushi offerings pretty darn well. Unfortunately, I've never seen it overly busy, so I hope it survives. I'll be one sad puppy if it doesn't.

Scrapin' Up the Bits... Update style

Newsworthy items for your perusal, beginning with a few updates, courtesy of the PG:

Update #1 - Following in my footsteps, China Millman weighs in on Dinette.

If Dinette makes me this happy in the winter, I can only dream of the magic Finn will work in July. Right now, with many months of winter still ahead of us, I look forward to settling in for the long haul.

Think she liked it?

Update #2 - Some people are upset about the whole Penn Brewery thing. This letter-writer in particular makes a very good point...

Penn Brewery/The North Side is to Pittsburgh as Guinness/St. James Gate is to Dublin, Ireland. Think about it. Certainly, current ownership must appreciate the fact that far upstream in the Penn value-chain sits the historical and romantic appeal of Penn Brewery as an emotional "destination." Look at Guinness. Millions of people flock to St. James Gate to witness/experience Guinness, not just to buy a beer, and tens of millions more feel an attachment to the brand and choose it whenever they have the opportunity. Guinness has built a brand and distribution channel second to none, and Penn should focus on the same.

On to politics... So President-Elect Change picks as his nomination for Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack from Iowa. Well, there was an outpouring from the sustainable ag community to pick a true progressive here, somebody who gets every angle of the importance of agriculture - protecting the environment, promoting organic and sustainable farming, stomping out the overbearing influence of agribusiness on agriculture policy.

And who gets named? A former Biotechnology Industry Organization's "Governor of the Year" awardee! The Ethicurean has a tidy little post that raises some of the concerns about Vilsack, but also highlights some of his more progressive leanings on ag policy.

I know President-Elect Change has said he sets the policy, that he's read Michael Pollan (who made his thoughts clear on the Vilsack pick on NPR today), yadda yadda, but this was an opportunity to put a real forward thinker in an extremely influential position and, well, he blew it. You know, pragmatism isn't always the best course of action, even if it's part of what won a presidential election.

Speaking of politics, particularly things like bailouts, how insane is this?

According to the [Wall Street Journal], the Italian government is planning a bailout for, of all things, the Parmigiano-Reggiano industry. The bottom line is that at current prices the cheese costs more to produce than it does to purchase; a cheesemaker cited in the article spends €8 to produce a kilogram of cheese that he then sells for €7.40.

As the post's author notes, this is definitely an industry for whom a bailout is essential. I mean, we're talking about the undisputed king of cheeses here...

And now, TWO recommendations:

First, for the gin martini drinkers out there, I highly recommend seeking out Bluecoat gin. Made in Philadelphia, it's produced from organic juniper berries. I almost hate to say it, I am starting to prefer it to Bombay Saphire.

I recently picked up a bottle on sale at a PA Wine & Spirits store. Think I'm gonna have to have me a Bluecoat Derby tonight.

Second, if you're looking for a place to go out to dinner, want to share your thoughts -- good or bad -- on a local dinery, etc., visit Urbanspoon Pittsburgh. Heck, you can even find little ol' me there.

Finally, as you're doing your holiday cookie baking -- which I strenuously try to avoid, leaving those duties to my wife, who is a far more skilled baker -- the New York Times offers some guidance on what most pastry chefs say is the single most important ingredient: butter.

One-Bite Review: Dinette is Awesome

It didn't take very long to get comfortable at Dinette, a very new restaurant in East Liberty. In fact, it took until the first sip of wine -- my first-ever, to my knowledge, of a Dolcetto di Dogliani (an Italian from Piedmont) -- to be perfectly cozy.

My wife's wine, a Toscana Zingari, was unlike any wine I've ever smelled or tasted. I'm fairly terrible at describing wines, and I also feel particularly pretentious trying to do so, so the most I'll say is that the Dogliani was a light red, fruity but not sweet in the least. I could have had 3 more. The Zingari had a dominant plum flavor, and wasn't something that could be consumed as quickly as the Dogliani. Aside from being astounded by the smell, my wife was initially unsure what to think about it, but by the last elbow tilt she pretty much loved it. Based on my two sips, I believe she was right.




The reason I'm spending a paragraph on the wine is because it's apparent pretty quickly -- from a glance at the menu or the first bites of an appetizer -- that this eatery believes in the idea that every single drop or herb or bit of protein that goes into a customer's mouth is important. And considering that no bottle (all of which are available by the glass or bottle) is over $44, considerable effort must be expended looking for affordable but exceptional wines.

"Fresh" is also a key theme at Dinette. Our fritto misto -- a small plate of lightly fried veg, of which ours included onions, sweet potato, portabello mushroom, and sage leaves -- case in point. Thin, airy, and crisp, with no need for a dipping sauce or even a squeeze of lemon to improve the flavor. The beef carpaccio, delicate and super-thin layers of beef (top sirloin, is what I believe we were told) dressed with shaved fontina, little shreddlings of radicchio, hazelnuts, and a bare drizzle of a sherrye vinaigrette, was even better. Going back and forth between bites of appetizer and swigs of wine, my wife and I agreed that -- had we not another obligation -- we could have easily hunkered down for the evening.

[The second glasses of wine to accompany our entrees, see below, were (mine) a Nero d'Avola-Cabernet blend, and (wife) Cotes du Roussillon. Both excellent.]

The stars of the menu are the pizzas. And, as my daily checks of the menu for the last week or so suggest, while they appear to stay fairly consistent in terms of the theme ingredients for each pizza, each day can bring little variations.

We got two pizzas. Pizza 1: fontina, walnuts, carmelized onions (the sweetest I've ever tasted), and escarole. Pizza 2: brussel sprouts (sliced), grilled leeks, fresh mozzarella.

The crust was not as heavily charred as what you might get from a brick-oven pizza in Brooklyn, but with a little char on the nicely raised crust, a great chew, and a superb blend of toppings that elevated each pie. My wife preferred the brussel sprout pizza. I thought they were both great. However, if I had to eat just one of them -- that is, the entire thing -- the brussel sprout would probably be the choice, because I could see the sweetness of the onions on the fontina pie becoming a little overpowering after the third piece.

Although the menu says the pizzas are for one, they are a good size. Two appetizers (I'm really hoping the romesco grilled wings happen to be on the menu the next time we go -- they were not on the next day's menu!), one pizza, and a bottle would be a sumptious meal for many couples.

The interior: The entire front is composed of huge windows. Lots of stainless steel, including the tables, with orange chairs and accents. An L-shaped bar hugs the petite kitchen, meaning bar sitters can pretty much see everything being prepared.

It felt like the Jetsons meet Ikea, and it works very well. And right in the heart of the reviving East Liberty -- just around the corner from Whole Foods, next to a huge Borders, and with the Red Room twin bill, cafe and lounge, visible from the large windows on the restaurant's back side -- the foot traffic should be helpful.

A few other side notes. The chef/owner, Pittsburgh-native Sonja Finn, did a stint at the fairly famous Zuni Cafe in San Francisco. Based on my limited forays with recipes from the Zuni Cafe Cookbook, the influence is pretty strong. Fresh ingredients, the frequent use of nuts, the focus on simplicity, among other things, really stand out.

Also, we had the pleasure of sitting next to the chef/owner's boyfriend (I coveted his romesco wings before we began talking to him!), and the decision to open Dinette in Pittsburgh, he said, was actually a competition between our beloved city, Raleigh/Durham, and San Francisco. Glad we won!

Finally, Dinette is also notable because of its focus on eco-friendly, sustainable practices, such as energy efficient equipment, lots of recycling and composting, and a heavy reliance on local/organic ingredients.

All in all, a great addition to the Pittsburgh dining scene. May it flourish for years to come.

NOTE: Image taken from Dinette Web site... because the pictures from my cell look like they're shot through night-vision goggles.

Delicious and Dreadful

These stories really have nothing to do with much of anything other than I have some sort of connection to both.

First, from the New York Times, an audio review by restaurant critic Frank Bruni of Market Table in Greenwich Village in New York City. As the legion of long-time Lusty Bit readers will recall (cough, cough, snort, cough, chuckle, deep breath), my wife and I dined at Market Table last December on the first night of our whirlwind, two-day NYC visit.

I still remember the gnocci with bits of braised short ribs in a parmesan broth. To this day I can still say it's one of the most delicious things I've ever tasted.

Listen to the review and take in the pictures. If you happen to make it to NYC any time soon, Market Table is well worth a visit, not only because of the quality of the food, but because of the relaxed atmosphere and the top-notch service.

Second, and last, what can only be qualified as a scathing critique: Washington Post dining critic Tom Sietsma reviews the restaurant Redwood in Bethesda, Md., just outside of Washington, D.C. I lived in and/or worked in Bethesda for nearly our entire 12 years in the great swampland of Washington, and there was a time when not a weekend went by where we didn't eat out at some restaurant in Bethesda. There are tons of them, and more seem to open every time I go back for work.

Several months ago I walked by Redwood. With its mammoth windows and sheer size, from the outside it is something to behold. But according to Mr. Sietsma -- in whose taste I have unquestioning trust after many years of reading and taking action based on his reviews -- the food on the inside is just not very good.

A cake of diced beets and yogurt cheese isn't bad; it's just nothing I haven't seen or tasted in 100 other restaurants across the country. Mussels heaped in a heavy skillet are dried out and flavorless, an unpleasantness magnified by crostini that weren't so much toasted as scorched. Baked, stuffed clams, another way to start a meal, are smothered in a near-sarcophagus of breading. Although I'm not listening for them, complaints from nearby diners ("This isn't what I was expecting") reveal that I'm not the only unhappy camper at Redwood.

I'm somewhat fascinated by the restaurant industry. And I find myself not only thinking about whether I enjoyed the food at a given restaurant, but whether it has the right business model to succeed. Because of the sheer volume, Bethesda is a microcosm of the cutthroat, but often unexplainable nature of the restaurant business. Good restaurants that did all of the right things, at least from the consumer's perspective, would fail, while other restaurants that had mediocre food and service would survive, sometimes even thrive.

Sietsma touches on this in his review:

Now that I've eaten here several times, it's hard to explain the crowds. Maybe it's just a matter of location and good design.

In a place like Bethesda, which has become an epicenter of luxury living, it does appear that some restaurants can succeed, at least for a time, based solely on "location and good design." Places where, as the cliche goes, diners can see and be seen.

In Pittsburgh, from my limited experience, it's a mostly different situation. There are, from what I can tell, places where one can see and be seen, but there typically aren't epicenters of uber-activity where location and design alone are enough to draw in enough new diners to generate success in the face of mediocre food.

If anything, my concern is with the number of restaurants that have opened that aren't what the average person would consider to be affordable. Mio, in Aspinwall, for example, was Pittsburgh magazine's best new restaurant. But it's really expensive. It's not BYOB and I don't know if there is a bottle under $70. We had one fantastic meal there, but we don't get out very often, and there are now enough other quality restaurants to try that I don't see us returning there any time soon, in large part because of the cost.

And I don't think we're alone. On Chowhound, when "hounders" from other cities are coming to Pittsburgh and looking for recommendations, Mio is almost never mentioned by local "hounders." I have to chock a portion of that up to price, because the food was too good otherwise.

My hope is that, as new restaurants do open in Pittsburgh, more will pursue a business model based on affordable food. Provide a limited menu that changes enough to keep things fresh, and with a honest focus on doing everything well, instead of just a few stellar dishes and then other options that may be no great shakes, but at least they're what people expect. In a city like this, it seems, for nonchain restaurants to ensure long-term success in what will likely be a prolonged economic downturn, quality food at a good price seems to almost be a prerequisite.

Oh, oh! Time to go. The Top Chef premiere is on! God, some times I hate being a food dork!

Legume Meets (High!) Expectations

We had been in Legume Bistro in Regent Square -- aka, downtown Edgewood -- for a matter of 10 minutes, and already I felt like I had left western Pennsylvania. I won't say I had been "transported to a glorious place" or any nonsense like that, because then I'd have to slice off a pinky or something as punishment. But, at that moment, I did have a feeling of having escaped the boundaries of Pittsburgh.

And by the time I had chomped my first bite of a crisp crostini with chicken liver mousse and a sweet apple sliver, chasing it with a sip of a staggeringly good Spanish red wine, that feeling was completely substantiated.

I'm sure many people would recoil just reading "chicken liver mousse," and, to be honest, its color wasn't something that would instill lust in even more adventurous eaters. And I know that "chicken liver mousse" is a loaded term, conjuring up images of tacky chandeliers, funereal silence, musty odors, and waif-like waiters in black vests and skinny ties with slicked back hair and a built-in sneer for anybody who dares ask to split an appetizer.

But Legume is not that kind of restaurant, at all. It has simple food with obviously quality ingredients --much of it obtained locally -- prepared by what our experience there indicates is a skilled kitchen staff. It seats, by my guesstimation, about 40, in a rectangular room sparingly decorated with small prints of herbs and veg along the wall and diminutive lights and small, white round "platforms" hanging from the ceiling.

It's BYOB. And you'll drink your beverage from small, plain tumblers. The service is professional and friendly. The menu has a brief choice of appetizers and entrees, and an even more austere list of "sides" and desserts. The customers are not concerned with being quiet, nor should they be.

My wife's appetizer, just as delicious as my mousse, was warmed goat cheese and roasted pears, coupled with a single pickled sour cherry and bean. Again, very simple, but really enjoyable.

I had -- and still have, in fact -- a hankering for red meat, so chose for my entree the lamb shank with roasted carrots, radishes, salsify, on a bed of spaetzle. My wife had monkfish and mussels in a creamy and rich, yet light, broth with potatoes and leeks.

Both were excellent. The lamb was very tender and not overwrought with herbs, particularly rosemary, as is often the tendency even in better restaurants. The vegetables were cooked to perfection. I particularly enjoyed the salsify. The spaetzle was a neat touch. The monkfish melted in your mouth, and the mussels were as delicate as any I've had.

The lone disappointment was the dessert. A warm gingerbread with poached quince and whipped cream. It was adequate, but forgettable.

I'd been meaning to go to Legume for quite some time, and hope to return soon. Having been in operation less than two years, based on my limited experience, it's clearly among the elite class of Pittsburgh restaurants, without making you cringe when the check comes.

It Made Me Laugh, Cry, Want to Make Fondue... IMPORTANT Butter Update

10/26: Please see the "dairy section" comments for a vitally important update...

I don't know how common grocery store reviews are. Perhaps I'm breaking some type of new terra firma here -- I doubt it, but I got to use "terra firma" in a sentence, which is always a literary thrill.

But given 1) that I work out of my home and am fairly captive in the northern 'burbs of the city, and 2) my bordering-on-disorder obsession with food, it's probably not so terribly unusual to review the new McGinnis Sisters grocery store.

Located on Rt. 228, the store sits somewhat uncomfortably in the middle of a new plaza, surrounded by a mishmash of businesses, including a Pizza Hut, a Gilded Lily gift shop, and the unfortunately named Cribs to Teens (which I at first mistook as a place to donate your gently-used baby gear for purchase by expectant 16-year-olds). It also sits directly across the street from a Giant Eagle.

Around the Rim

With a nicely apportioned produce section to greet you upon arrival, this third store in the growing McGinnis Sisters' empire cannot help but evoke comparisons with Whole Foods. A good bit of the produce is either local or organic. The selection, not as extensive as Whole Foods by any measure, is nevertheless respectable.

I've already purchased baby artichokes (from which I sadly did not peel enough of the outer leaves before using in what would have otherwise been a really good pasta dish) and organic black mission figs, among other hard-to-find items. From what I can tell, very little of the produce comes from outside the United States.

The seafood department resides immediately to the right of the produce section, a brave move considering the potential for off odors to put off suburban soccer moms buying organic baby carrots. Much of the seafood comes from along the eastern U.S. coastline, and appears to be quite fresh. I don't believe I've seen any "previously frozen" labels on anything. We had an excellent piece of salmon one evening, but also had a mostly whole trout that bordered on "fishy." In the trout's defense, though, because of a change in plans the weekend we bought it, it had to spend two weeks in the freezer, which obviously doesn't do favors for any piece of fish.

Given that there are few other options in this neck of the woods for what can even remotely be considered "fresh" fish, the seafood counter at McGinnis Sisters is indispensable.

Just around the corner from the produce/seafood area is the meat department. Here you can choose from a wide variety of chicken cuts, all from chickens raised on Amish farms in Pennsylvania. We used (bone-in) chicken thighs from McGinnis for the fantastic braised chicken dish I mentioned in a previous post.

We have yet to purchase any beef or pork (except for some apple sausages I bought but have yet to make). Considering that I have most of a Wil-Den Farms' quarter-pig in the freezer and a decent-sized parcel of grass-fed goodness arriving from So'Journey Farm later this month, I suspect I will only occasionally need to procure any non-poultry items from McGinnis Sisters. Beyond these basic meats, there is a nice-looking assortment of lamb and buffalo available in the meat department, as well as processed pork products in the cheese/bakery area.

The dairy section has some unique surprises. The yogurt selection, disappointing at first, is getting better. Among the surprises are the half-gallon glass bottles from Brunton's Dairy in Aliquippa. When they're empty, you bring 'em on back to the store and get 50-cents back per bottle (actually, just taken off of your grocery bill at check-out). I really like that option and, according to one of the checkers, it's quite popular.

UPDATE: And, now, for the vitally important butter update... Geez. I totally forgot about another important surprise in the dairy section: Amish butter. Big, round hunks of bright yellow, tasty butter, pictured to the right, next to some milk, in a glass bottle. This has been a service of the emergency dairy service.

Around to the far side of the store now and you arrive at the bakery/deli/cheese section/prepared foods counter. The bakery has a nice selection of breads made in-house (the "Portuguese bread" is quite tasty), as well as from other local bakeries like Mancini and BreadWorkS. Nice to have a fresh ciabatta that has nothing more than flour, yeast, salt, water, olive oil, etc. and not a long, unwieldy list of preservatives like the allegedly "artisan" breads offered at certain grocery chains and big-box stores.

The cheese section is particularly noteworthy. Fairly substantial in size, the quality is slowing approaching exceptional. In addition to an excellent selection of cheeses produced in or around western Pa., it also has quality parmesan and romano, and a growing selection of top-notch cheeses, including several Beemster varieties and Maytag and Point Reyes blue cheeses. For the true cheese addict, this is dangerous territory.

I'll skip any significant discussion of the center of the store or the deli counter. This is not the kind of place where you're going to buy a lot of processed foods or typical, everyday groceries (e.g., juice boxes or snack crackers or household cleaners), although there is an acceptable selection of such items, including environmentally friendly cleaning items. The deli meats appear to be a notch above what's available at most grocery stores.

Watcha' Got Cookin'?

Where the grocery store succeeds on freshness, quality, and selection, the prepared foods section fails on culinary acumen. To be fair, I've only had a few items, including a pizza and an (Amish) rotisserie chicken. Both were disappointing.

Before this review turns decidedly negative, though, I have to mention the nice little cafe in the front of the store, complete with a flat-screen TV running Evil Food Channel programming. The paninis on offer look good. I'm looking forward to trying one.

However, one of the cafe's main attractions, the pizzas, need some help.

The pizza I ordered was supposed to be a margherita. It was not, at least by the classic definition, which is fresh mozzarella (in some cases, buffalo), a modest application of sauce, and some fresh basil. Mine was loaded with sauce and cheese and... pesto.

Yes, pesto (often) has basil in it. But that does not mean you can rightfully call the pizza a margherita. Call it something else, but don't call it a margherita.

Beyond what some might say are pure semantics, though, was the pizza's texture and flavor. First, if you're going to invest in a wood-burning oven, learn how produce a crisp crust. I want to feel the crust with my teeth. I don't want it to disintegrate the moment it hits my mouth. The bready part of the pizza is important. It should taste good and not just be a delivery vehicle for toppings, the equivalent of a paper plate. Of course, this is something nearly every restaurant or store or pizza joint in this country fails to understand -- or, rather, may very well understand, but has come to realize that, sadly, most people don't really seem to care. Just make something resembling a pizza and sell it for $10, with a chance to maybe get some lousy bread sticks or every tenth pizza free, and, voila, you've got a successful business.

Second, they obviously used corn meal to slide the dough in and out of the oven. Why? A little flour is sufficient. I don't want my pizza to taste of corn meal. If I want corn meal, I'll make some freakin' grits (well, not really, but it sounds far more dramatic that way, no?). So in every bite, competing witih the sauce and cheese and pesto (which, to be honest, wasn't too bad) and crust are little crunchy bits of corn meal. Ugh!

As for the rotisserie chicken. It was of a good size and was tender. But I can only assume that not one speck of salt, pepper, yet alone any other herb or spice, was applied to this otherwise fine bird. Now, I'm not expecting a Peruvian chicken, but a little strategic use of some flavoring elements would make a world of difference.

The Final Word

Overall, this is a really nice grocery store. For meat, produce, and cheese, it seems to compare favorably on price with its larger competitor across the way. But particularly in these hard economic times, that discount on gas consumers get for buying their groceries across the street may prove even more attractive, drawing away potential customers.

The prepared foods are -- at this point at least -- lacking. But I already find myself making at least two trips a week here: one for produce, milk, bread, etc. to supplement the trip to Big Chain Store across the street, and typically a second to pick up whatever else we might need for dinners during the latter half of the week.

In short, I hope this new McGinnis Sisters thrives. It has already raised the bar for other grocery stores, and is an extremely welcome addition to the Burgh's northern 'burbs.

First Bites: Passport Cafe & Chicken Latino

In the span of a week, I had lunch at two restaurants I’ve been meaning to try for some time. Neither disappointed.

First came lunch at Passport Café in Wexford. This restaurant had an inauspicious beginning, restaurant review wise, that is. The relative newbie dining critic for the Post-Gazette, China Millman, in a mostly polite manner, ripped the restaurant a new one.

However, the review ran in November, when Passport Café had been open only a few months, and I’ve eaten at enough restaurants—and enough new restaurants—to understand that some times it takes some time to get things right.

And my Brazilian Chicken Salad was indeed right.

I’m not really sure what was supposed to make this dish so “Brazilian” (perhaps some soccer players with only one name made the dressing?), and I got the impression the menu didn’t exactly reflect what this particular offering actually was on this particular day.

This was chicken salad—a mixture of shredded chicken and other ingredients with something wet to bind it all together—not, as the menu seemed to suggest, hunks of roasted chicken on some form of greens.

The chicken was mixed with, among other things, raisins and shredded carrot. It was moist and had a subdued sweetness. A good bit of shoestring fries sat atop the chicken, and the entire thing rested upon a small bed of mixed greens. The dish was finished with a light coat of what I might guess was a balsamic vinaigrette, although the menu said this salad was served with a thyme vinaigrette.

The fries were delicious, although there were probably a few too many, and they were a bit oversalted. Nevertheless, the entire thing was very satisfying, and I left wanting more.

I do have to agree with Ms. Millman on one thing, though. The complimentary bread was forgettable, and that’s being generous. But the restaurant itself has a comfortable, clean atmosphere, and my meal was enjoyable. And that makes it worth a return trip.

Chicken Latino, in the Strip District, came the following Saturday. This was an entirely unplanned trip. While I had enjoyed some samples at the Farm to Table Conference, I had nothing approaching a lunch. I left well after the lunch hour and had to stop at Penn Avenue Fish Company to pick up something for dinner that night.

I could have had lunch there, but the taste memory of banh mi struck my taste buds. It was by no means cold outside, so I hoped the banh mi cart would be in its usual spot on Penn Avenue. It was not. I walked another block or two, thinking maybe gyro or chicken on a stick, and there it was, just around the bend: Chicken Latino.

Peruvian roasted chicken. Oooohhhhh. I freakin’ LOVE this stuff. My wife has on more than one occasion insinuated that I have a strange obsession with this chicken. Every time we return to D.C. to visit friends or I travel there for work, Peruvian chicken is on the brain. And that’s because, with the exception of Chicken Latino, there is not a single Peruvian chicken joint in all of Pittsburgh. D.C. is filthy with them, and, as far as I can tell, they’re all good.

For whatever reason, I had yet to make it Chicken Latino, even though I spotted it several months ago. But here I was, by myself, desperately hungry. It was time to act.

It was, perhaps the best Peruvian roasted chicken I’ve had. And I don’t think that opinion was biased by my state of hunger. The quarter chicken was ridiculously tender, and the spices that coated it were spot on. A smear of the ubiquitous spicy green sauce present in all Peruvian chicken establishments (cilantro and jalapeno, among other things? I’ve never asked) provided some added heat.

The menu at Chicken Latino is short and simple. Various options for chicken: quarter, half, whole. Yucca, black beans, coleslaw for sides. A chicken sandwich and a few others, including some weekly specials, including a tilapia ceviche on Saturdays.

Very reluctantly, I did not order any yucca fries, which is tantamount to Peruvian chicken heresy, in my view. Next time, though, there will be yucca. Oh, there will be yucca, indeed.