Columbus, Mitchell's, and the limits of fancy

I spent a few days in each of the last couple of weeks in Columbus, Ohio. I've always liked Columbus - it's a beautiful, cosmopolitan place, sophisticated, but rooted in the humility and niceness of the Midwest. Food-wise, this place has enormous promise. There were snazzy, well-conceived, high style restaurants throughout downtown and up into Short North. Fabulous signage, subtle lighting, clever names. I only got to try a couple, but I can imagine thoroughly enjoying the process of checking out more of them should a project here be in my future.

At the same time, there were some limits, and it was interesting coming from Columbus back to Tally, where there is lots of heart, but very little style, and where nothing, no matter how hard they try, is fancy.

On my first night in town, we went to Sushi place called Haiku. This is a beautiful restaurant. Being 7 degrees, we didn't spend a lot of time on the patio, but it looked like it'd be an amazing place to be outdoors in the summer. As a table, back indoors, we sort of went all in on the sushi. About 15 different rolls and half a dozen types of sushi (that's our actual rolls there in the picture). First off: Sushi, family style, in beautiful place, with good people and hot sake on a cold day is a thing of beauty. We started in with several appetizers - decent but not spectacular, they displayed little creativity and suggested that the kitchen's culinary skill was focused elsewhere. The lettuce wraps were timidly spiced - sort of PF Changs derivative. What they called calamari was interesting but not great - more or less a spring role stuffed inside fairly large squid with a simple soy sauce-based compliment. The rolls, however were outstanding, and sushi was excellent. What they lacked in elegance of presentation (the tuna was cut awkwardly, and the rolls were not quite symmetrical), they made up for in taste. The yellow fin was as good as anything I've had since I lived in DC.

With a few non-memorable dinners between, my last meal in Columbus was at Mitchell's. Mitchell's is one of the prettiest restaurants I've set foot in. This is a cathedral of food on a scale that puts Vegas to shame. Soaring ceilings, massive light sculptures, deep leather booths. Not the very best food, or the best wine list, but man did they make you feel like it was. We did a pretty typical run through of steak house fare - down to actual shrimp cocktail, which I hadn't eaten for years. The waitress was exceptional - friendly and efficient. She said she'd been waiting tables for the owner for 30 years. Clearly they're doing something right - that's a heck of a low-turnover story for any business, let alone food service. While it'd be nice if the architectural and service skill extended to the kitchen, it didn't. The steak was middling - they did a good job searing it, but the meat itself was bland and tough. It took them 3 tries to get a hot baked potato to the table, and the desserts, with one exception (the upside down apple bread pudding), were uninspired. The only other stand out was the asparagus, which was unusually light and tender - simply steamed and well presented.

Both Mitchell's and Haiku traded on the spare-no-expense luxe style that I saw looking in the windows at a lot of places here. Haiku was by far the better of the two, though both, separated from the pleasant company and flashy surroundings, come up a little short. The really great places in Columbus, the places that draw you in, and make you feel like the person in the kitchen cares passionately about your happiness, those places are still to be discovered. I hope I get the chance.

I Miss Bread

A friend of mine asked what I thought of the Kindle recently. And I said that it was like reading without the subtext of paper: pages, typeface, cover art, crinkles, and heft. It's an advance, but also a sterilization of the experience.

And that got me thinking about food, and wondering if my 12 meals a week in restaurants in various places is the Kindle of eating.

Which isn't to say I'm complaining exactly. There is something nice about the proximity of the decision of what to eat and the acquisition of food. I can sit at my desk, think, "I'd like Thai tonight," and then poof, there's Thai. No pouring through cookbooks, no trips to the grocery store, no searches in vain for exotic spices, no prep work, no dishes.

What gets lost in the mix is the subtext of the food. The ingredients in their raw form go through amazing transformations to become dinner. Colors blend, flavors mellow, bread rises (how amazing is that!), and things that were poking their leaves out of the ground hours earlier become salad.

So the other side of Grubbus for me is the unsterilization of food for the days I get to spend at home. And the center of that, at the moment, is bread. Bread makes me happy.


And here's why I'm not ready to give up my imperfect, inconvenient food for the sleek Kindle-like take out. That Ciabatta up in the picture next to the cinnamon rolls? It was light and airy, but nearly as light and airy as the Ciabatta from Central Market. The cinnamon roles were pretty, but not as pretty as any commercial bakery worth a visit. The reason I'm not ready to give them up is that food is more than it's isolated characteristics. Food has the taste of the hours of subtext that goes into it.

So, here's to the unsterilized, the hands on, the substantial. Here's to food you need to think about a day in advance, and clean up from late into the night. Here's to the unreproducible results of the help of small children.

Stumbling on the Essence of India

It's a bold name for a restaurant, sort of like Seattle's Best Coffee or The Country's Best Yogurt. These things invite you to scoff, to call the bluff. I knew Seattle's best coffee, and you, sir, are no Seattle's best coffee.

And it's got a couple strikes against it right off the bat. For one, The Essence of India is in Tallahassee. The pizza's good in this town, but it's not typically strong on ethnic cuisine. For another thing, it's tucked in the corner of a strip mall next to a discount hair products store and an indoor archery range, behind the Olive Garden. That's bad karma no matter how you slice it.

Despite the rough prospects, this is an outstanding restaurant. I've got no real basis for determining if this is authentic or not, but the food is delicious. I typically order "medium" spicy and it's fiery and nuanced, with all the layers of complexity and spice interaction I associate with good Indian food. In everything I've had the sauces are thin, subtle and deeply spiced rather than the brightly colored-goop I've come to expect at more typical Indian places. The Korma is outstanding, with bits of almonds, and a milky, rich faintly sweet flavor. I'm also partial to the Madras sauce, which is dark and a little smoky. Tandoori items, especially the chicken Tikka are tender and moist. With Tracy and the kids this week, we ordered a feast, and there was general consensus that the Samosas and Aloo Tikki (kid favorites) were excellent. The plan Nan is good and fresh, but the garlic is more fun.

Often I write these posts after a single experience; in this case this is place I've been to maybe a dozen times. I'll probably tire of it sooner or later - it's on Appalachee Parkway right across from the Courtyard I stay at – but for months now it’s been one of my favorites. I’ve yet to be disappointed with anything I’ve ordered, and look forward to continuing to reach down the menu to try things I haven’t tried anywhere.