Come with me once again fellow gastronauts, as we journey across the Ravenel to Bambu (sic).
The occasion: A double date with our neighbors before heading off to Boone Hall Fright Nights to get in the Halloween spirit. Also, it's Thursday.
The relatively new (have they even established a Cougar Night yet?) Bambu in Mt. Pleasant is strikingly chic in its strip-mall-esque surroundings. Situated in the Moultrie Plaza shopping center, it shares parking with the likes of Senor Tequila's, Boater's World, and Wild Wings. But Bambu immediately distinguishes itself - a beautifully configured outdoor area houses a cabanalike bar, tasteful rock gardens, and ample seating. Inside is not quite as compelling, but decorative touches like jellyfish lanterns and hand painted wall treatments made me feel well cared-for.
Thanks to the double date we managed to sample a number of appetizers off Bambu's unnecessarily large menu. The Edamame Spinach dip stood out in particular. It arrived piping hot with fried Wonton chips I would have happily eaten dry. Well into our appetizers though, we were still spelunking through the menu trying to decide on main courses.
I'm not sure if it was a function of menu size, but they were out of two types of beer my friend ordered and the main course (lo mein) that I wanted. The waiter did a good job of recommending an alternative (fried rice with beef, rice, and chicken - savory and satisying), but if the menu is regularly this inconsistent I'd like to see Bambu scale back the ambition.
All said and done, the food was on par with other upscale Asian bistros (PF Chang's comes to mind). The sushi was well made and fresh and the service fast. I wish the menu was a bit more prescriptive, but the overall experience was definitely positive. The outdoor area really sets Bambu apart, and I can't think of many other places I would rather sit outdoors and have a drink and appetizers. I imagine I'll be back soon, if not for dinner, then for a nice evening with friends.
The Mustard Seed (Mt Pleasant)
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I've heard raves about The Mustard Seed since I moved here two and half years ago. When I shared with friends that I had never been, I generally heard some variation of "YOU HAVEN'T BEEN TO THE MUSTARD SEED??!" Similar to the reaction I have every time Maggie tells me she's never seen the Lord of the Rings movies.
With visions of big portions, fresh ingredients, and fair prices dancing in our heads, we struck out over the Ravenel for an evening at the original Mt. Pleasant location (in the last few years two additional Mustard Seeds have germinated - one on James Island, and another in Summerville).
Fresh, well-seasoned foccacia, warm lighting, comfortable but practical tables and settings - an auspicious start. The menu arrived and, in retrospect, at this point I should have started to worry. Here are three items off the menu, in the order they appear:
- Chicken Enchiladas
- Pad Thai
- Turkey Meatloaf
Really. Normally a baffling grab-bag menu like this would be an immediate red flag (Seriously, re-read those three dishes. I can't get over it!), but TMS's reputation is such that I reacted with only the faintest flicker of neurons, absent-mindedly admiring the chef for his range.
After a middling corn chowder (easily dismissed as well), Maggie's pad-thai arrived along with my (safe-choice!) shrimp & scallop risotto. The pad thai had some kind of odd and overwhelming clam-sauce-meets-lemongrass flavor that knocked out any chance of balance in the dish. The shrimp were overcooked and the bulk of the dish came home in a doggy bag, to linger, uneaten, in the fridge for a few days.
The risotto was better, but not transporting. Sort of upper-middle-class. The scallops were cooked beautifully, to just-past translucent with a nice caramelization. The risotto itself though, was quite bland. To make Risotto you have to stand over a pot, stirring and adding ingredients constantly, for at least an hour. The entire time you're tasting and adding more stock, salt, mushrooms, wine, pepper, herbs, cheese, whatever. The constant attention and slow cook time means it's nearly impossible to make a bland risotto. I have no idea why there was no more flavor than some basic chicken stock. It was fine, but wouldn't have required a great deal more work to make it great.
I think there is something akin to momentum with regard to TMS. Check out this review for an example. How on earth does an undercooked dish and a baffled and rude waitress garner four stars? In fairness there are a huge number of resoundingly positive reviews, but I think in some cases the restaurant's reputation precedes it.
The disparity between what I've heard about The Mustard Seed and what I experienced there is so great that I can't help but think we may have caught it on an off night (I'm falling for its reputation too!). Maybe we'll go back soon and give it another shot. Or maybe not.
Fresh, well-seasoned foccacia, warm lighting, comfortable but practical tables and settings - an auspicious start. The menu arrived and, in retrospect, at this point I should have started to worry. Here are three items off the menu, in the order they appear:
- Chicken Enchiladas
- Pad Thai
- Turkey Meatloaf
Really. Normally a baffling grab-bag menu like this would be an immediate red flag (Seriously, re-read those three dishes. I can't get over it!), but TMS's reputation is such that I reacted with only the faintest flicker of neurons, absent-mindedly admiring the chef for his range.
After a middling corn chowder (easily dismissed as well), Maggie's pad-thai arrived along with my (safe-choice!) shrimp & scallop risotto. The pad thai had some kind of odd and overwhelming clam-sauce-meets-lemongrass flavor that knocked out any chance of balance in the dish. The shrimp were overcooked and the bulk of the dish came home in a doggy bag, to linger, uneaten, in the fridge for a few days.
The risotto was better, but not transporting. Sort of upper-middle-class. The scallops were cooked beautifully, to just-past translucent with a nice caramelization. The risotto itself though, was quite bland. To make Risotto you have to stand over a pot, stirring and adding ingredients constantly, for at least an hour. The entire time you're tasting and adding more stock, salt, mushrooms, wine, pepper, herbs, cheese, whatever. The constant attention and slow cook time means it's nearly impossible to make a bland risotto. I have no idea why there was no more flavor than some basic chicken stock. It was fine, but wouldn't have required a great deal more work to make it great.
I think there is something akin to momentum with regard to TMS. Check out this review for an example. How on earth does an undercooked dish and a baffled and rude waitress garner four stars? In fairness there are a huge number of resoundingly positive reviews, but I think in some cases the restaurant's reputation precedes it.
The disparity between what I've heard about The Mustard Seed and what I experienced there is so great that I can't help but think we may have caught it on an off night (I'm falling for its reputation too!). Maybe we'll go back soon and give it another shot. Or maybe not.
La Fourchette
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After getting a parking spot directly in front of La Fourchette at 8pm Friday (I have unbelievable luck parking), we had no trouble getting a table and a glass of champagne. (We had reservations, but the place was half empty. Why??) Settling in, I took a look at the menu: all French.
For me, French menus are dangerous. I've heard enough of the French language to have a good grasp on pronunciation, and know how a printed word should sound, but my mouth isn't as familiar as my ear so when I actually try to say anything, it sounds like someone stepped on a frog and I get weird/embarrassed looks from waitresses. As usual though, Maggie is there to bail me out by drilling me in advance and correcting my pronunciation. So, after barely mangling La Salade De Fromages Chauds and Le Steak Frites (Maggie ordered Salmon cooked in parchment paper, the French spelling of which I won't try to reproduce here), we were treated to one of our best meals yet.
"Intimate" is such a cop-out word to describe a restaurant, but in the case of La Fourchette try to take it seriously for a moment, rather than dismissing it as a cliché. The space was unexpectedly small, but ultimately right-sized. The interior, no doubt aided by the age of the old King St. building that contains it, has a tremendous amount of character for a three-year-old restaurant.
The skirt steak was deliciously crusted and presented with a lightly dressed stack of Bibb lettuce. On the menu, the side was described simply as Salade Verte, so the Bibb lettuce was a welcome surprise. The Frites are deep-friend in duck fat, and the warm cheese plate was properly portioned for two with enough variety to feel adventurous, while also pleasing everyone.
Service was fast, friendly, and French. I don't envy the job of the hiring manager - where in Charleston is there a ready supply of amiable, French-speaking women? Most seem to be working at La Fourchette.
It's too bad we have to wait 43 weeks to go back.
For me, French menus are dangerous. I've heard enough of the French language to have a good grasp on pronunciation, and know how a printed word should sound, but my mouth isn't as familiar as my ear so when I actually try to say anything, it sounds like someone stepped on a frog and I get weird/embarrassed looks from waitresses. As usual though, Maggie is there to bail me out by drilling me in advance and correcting my pronunciation. So, after barely mangling La Salade De Fromages Chauds and Le Steak Frites (Maggie ordered Salmon cooked in parchment paper, the French spelling of which I won't try to reproduce here), we were treated to one of our best meals yet.
"Intimate" is such a cop-out word to describe a restaurant, but in the case of La Fourchette try to take it seriously for a moment, rather than dismissing it as a cliché. The space was unexpectedly small, but ultimately right-sized. The interior, no doubt aided by the age of the old King St. building that contains it, has a tremendous amount of character for a three-year-old restaurant.
The skirt steak was deliciously crusted and presented with a lightly dressed stack of Bibb lettuce. On the menu, the side was described simply as Salade Verte, so the Bibb lettuce was a welcome surprise. The Frites are deep-friend in duck fat, and the warm cheese plate was properly portioned for two with enough variety to feel adventurous, while also pleasing everyone.
Service was fast, friendly, and French. I don't envy the job of the hiring manager - where in Charleston is there a ready supply of amiable, French-speaking women? Most seem to be working at La Fourchette.
It's too bad we have to wait 43 weeks to go back.
Thanks Digitel!
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Great mention of the blog over on The Digitel. Thanks! If you don't read The Digitel regularly, you're missing out. It's my go-to for information about Charleston. In addition to their own take on local machinations, they pull in content from the City Paper, The P&C, etc. So you're always up to date.
A new post is coming later. I know I'm overdue.
Boulevard Diner
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One of the most authentic diners I have ever been to. Between the view out the enormous front windows onto Coleman Boulevard, friendly waitresses, home cooked food, cheap white plastic plates, late closing time, unnecessarily large antique roadside sign, I feel confident predicting (I didn't have the appetite to test this) that they have wonderful pie.
Maggie and I ventured over the Ravenel to Boulevard's Mt. Pleasant location (there is also one in West Ashley) for a late bite before bed. It's not 1pm and still can't look at food.
The dense, doughy, spinach & potato pancakes came covered in a thick shrimp sauce and resembled golf balls more than pancakes. Though surprising in shape, a bit gluey and cold in the center, but they were somehow just what I expected.
Boulevard Diner keeps things simple. My "Cajun Meatloaf" turned out to be totally traditional-tasting meatloaf, but was also totally good-tasting. No fancy adjectives here. Just old-fashioned good. I asked our perky waitress why it was called "Cajun", and she confessed to be as baffled as me.
The staff did their best to sell us on the half-baked Tollhouse Pie and spiced Hummingbird Cake, but they must have known we'd turn it down based on the roughly two pounds of leftover green bean casserole and friend green tomatoes left on our plates.
The Noisy Oyster
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The Noisy Oyster on Market Street is right in the heart of Tourist town and delivers everything you would expect of a tourist trap restaurant - OK food, OK environment, expansive menu, and great people watching. The highlight was definitely the wide-open garage-door style windows that open up onto Market Street. The evening weather of Charleston in late September can't be beat. As one of Charleston's serious fault's is a lack of sidewalk-seating for restaurant's, I can recommend The Noisy Oyster based solely on this feature.
Why, you might ask, would we even bother going here? Look at it any way you like, but the Noisy Oyster is a staple of downtown Charleston and we had never been. It had to make the list, and we had to get it out of the way. It was also nice to get a bit of a break on the wallet.
The food was just fine, in the same way Chili's is. Our waiter was great, and Maggie and I bonded with him over our shared Northeastern roots (all three of us are from the Boston area). He generously gave us a $5-off coupon. Totally unnecessary, and very much appreciated.
I feel like I'm reviewing a restaurant everyone has been too, if not literally, then certainly figuratively. Local-sounding dishes that were likely frozen at some point, the decor overemphasizing local culture, and certainly no regulars. Really not bad, but really not good. If you're on Market Street and looking for a quick dinner though, you could do worse.
Oak Steakhouse
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A pair of good friends are moving next week, and invited Maggie and me out to dinner, conveniently on Thursday, for a goodbye. We initially settled on Hall's Chophouse, a relatively new steakhouse offering on upper King St, we switched to Oak because we had never eaten there.
(Hall's, incidentally, is great.)
I'm struggling to say something about Oak that wouldn't apply to any upscale, expensive, well-executed steakhouse. That's not an insult - the atmosphere was refined, but decidedly Southern. Oak feels like Charleston, while also feeling like a thousand other high-end restaurants.
Maggie's filet mignon was delicious (though that's not my favorite cut), with a really well-flavored crunchy crust. My osso buco was seasoned nicely, but the bed of thin polenta it sat in absorbed and obscured the marrow and juices until I felt like I was eating a lamb soup. The perfectly cooked shank deserverd more. Drinks were well made, if a little slow to arrive. Service was otherwise impeccable.
The side dishes do deserve a mention; a light and wonderfully sweet butternut squash puree was a great dish to usher in the Fall. I had heard rumors of a lobster macaroni and cheese that was rich enough to kill, but no one at our table had the guts to try it. Next time.
I also commend Oak for a having more variety on the menu than a typical steakhouse. Between the wide variety of salads, sides, seafoods, and appetizers, even a vegetarian would come away happy. That said, most food was nonetheless steakhouse-like in terms of richness. Think The Palm or Ruth's Chris, with a lot more Southern flair.
In the end, it's hard for me to get excited about spending that much on dinner for anything less than a perception-altering meal. I think steakhouses are just not where you should spend your money in Charleston when looking for a great dinner. Almost any other restaurant will be cheaper and more interesting. Oak is good at what it does, but I just don't care.
(Hall's, incidentally, is great.)
I'm struggling to say something about Oak that wouldn't apply to any upscale, expensive, well-executed steakhouse. That's not an insult - the atmosphere was refined, but decidedly Southern. Oak feels like Charleston, while also feeling like a thousand other high-end restaurants.
Maggie's filet mignon was delicious (though that's not my favorite cut), with a really well-flavored crunchy crust. My osso buco was seasoned nicely, but the bed of thin polenta it sat in absorbed and obscured the marrow and juices until I felt like I was eating a lamb soup. The perfectly cooked shank deserverd more. Drinks were well made, if a little slow to arrive. Service was otherwise impeccable.
The side dishes do deserve a mention; a light and wonderfully sweet butternut squash puree was a great dish to usher in the Fall. I had heard rumors of a lobster macaroni and cheese that was rich enough to kill, but no one at our table had the guts to try it. Next time.
I also commend Oak for a having more variety on the menu than a typical steakhouse. Between the wide variety of salads, sides, seafoods, and appetizers, even a vegetarian would come away happy. That said, most food was nonetheless steakhouse-like in terms of richness. Think The Palm or Ruth's Chris, with a lot more Southern flair.
In the end, it's hard for me to get excited about spending that much on dinner for anything less than a perception-altering meal. I think steakhouses are just not where you should spend your money in Charleston when looking for a great dinner. Almost any other restaurant will be cheaper and more interesting. Oak is good at what it does, but I just don't care.
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