Saturday, March 31, 2012.
Buckwheat Waffling. Overdoing It At Keith Young's.
At last, Mary Ann suggested that we have breakfast this morning. (I am not allowed to initiate that without repercussions. Something to do with her diet.) We haven't been to Mattina Bella lately. The usual ideal versions of everything: an omelette for MA, a buckwheat waffle for me. The latter was something new to me here, and something I will get again. Buckwheat is funny stuff. It's not wheat, to begin with. It has a nutty flavor, plus a malty one. The batter will ferment if left alone long enough, but you have to catch it at the right moment. Which they did.
And there was bad news. Owner Vincent Riccobono (not the same Vincent Riccobono who owns the Peppermill, although the two men are cousins) had drastic eye surgery recently, and lost one of them. His daughter says he's in good spirits, which must take a very positive attitude indeed. Even the thought of it makes me uneasy. Vincent is too nice a man for such a turn of fate. But he'll be back to work in a few weeks.
No radio show today, so I got to work--sort of--on a couple of irritating issues. A leaking faucet in one bathroom has proven impossible to repair. Nobody anywhere has the replacement washers. So I bought a new faucet set, knowing full well that while I will have no trouble installing it, I will have a great deal of trouble getting the old one off. Getting The Old One Off is the worst part of performing any mechanical job.
I also need to put up blinds in my home office. During the radio show, the sun is right in my eyes. I was astonished to discover that Bali mini-blinds can be bought for under five dollars. I was less happy to find that neither of the batteries for my cordless drill will hold a charge. And that the chuck key for my old (1973 model!) plug-in drill is missing. Stymied at every turn.
Mary Ann surprised me for the second time today with an interest in going out to dinner. I have an urge for a steak, I said. "Great! I've been thinking about Keith Young's!"
We reserved for six-thirty (you never go to Keith Young's without a reservation, although a lot of people try). The restaurant was nearly full already, and would be soon. On top of that, the place was hosting a wedding reception. So we would see just how good this staff is. A few of the waiters said hello, but the one our table drew didn't know us. This didn't matter: the guy had his moves down.
I had an urge to start with a Manhattan. But I am backing away from cocktails. I sated the desire with a long draft of ice water. I have not stopped drinking wine, however. Here was a 2004 Russian River Valley Zinfandel from Brogan Cellars, in a half-bottle for $21. It is my experience that big Zinfandels (the red kind, I shouldn't need to say) show alluring bouquet and flavor development in a fraction of the time it takes Cabernets and Merlots. This one was big, all right. Sediment covered the shoulders of the bottle. Alcohol was an astonishing 17.1 percent. It was so luscious that even Mary Ann got excited about it.
An appetizer special also pleased us greatly. It was a napoleon of fried eggplant discs, with a sauce made with butter, tasso, green onions, and sweet red peppers. Why are so many excellent panneed eggplant dishes coming my way lately? I think this is the fifth one in about two weeks.
Both our entrees were immoderate. Mary Ann loves prime rib, especially if an end cut is available. It was, crusty and overcooked the way she likes it. For me, a sirloin strip, sizzling in butter. Neither of us got past the two-thirds mark (as if steaks have such indicators). But a big steak is always better than a little one, and I knew that Mary Ann would take all leftovers home for sandwiches and such.
We had another half-bottle of the Brogan Zinfandel. Aha! Bottle variation. The second wasn't quite as unctuous as the first. But still very good. We gave tastes to Keith, his wife Lynda, and the waiter, who claimed to have no taste for wine. But he liked it too.
On the way out, in the bar, we ran into a lot of people who knew us. Many of them were dining at the bar. I saw a lot of crab cakes. Keith Young overcomes the rule that deep-fried crab cakes are usually terrible. His are excellent: lump through and through, and little else.
It sounds philistine to say that a steakhouse is one of the two or three best restaurants on the North Shore. Especially with competition like La Provence, Gallagher's, Dakota, Juniper, Del Porto, and Carmelo. But we (MA and I agree, for once) enjoy no dining on our side of the pond more than we do Keith's straightforward, excellent cookery. There is no better service staff in the area, that's for sure.
Mattina Bella. Covington: 421 E Gibson. 985-892-0708.
Keith Young's Steak House. Madisonville: 165 LA 21. 985-845-9940.
It's over three years since a day was missed in the Dining Diary. To browse through all of the entries since 2008, go here.
