Old Man Jenkins

Went tonight for the shellfish tasting menu. Menu: Lobster "Cappuccino" Lobster fritter, vanilla-bourbon foam Florida Stone Crab Claws Smoked paprika aioli, potato gaufrettes Butter Poached Virginia Oyster Creamy tarragon risotto, bacon-red onion marmalade Scallop "Sandwich" Braised veal cheek, celery root puree, truffled veal jus Key Lime & White Chocolate Semifreddo Blood oranges, raspberry sauce First things first: both the stone crab claws and the dessert were 86ed. Bummer. The stone crab claws were replaced by a crab, avocado, and mango salad with fried lotus root chips, wasabi aioli, and (I believe) sweetened tamari. The first course was stellar. The fritter (while not having a pronounced lobster flavor) was a nice foil to the soup. Crisp, well-seasoned (subtle fennel notes) and hot. The broth was rich, it was nuanced, it was warm and comforting and everything I look for in an opening course on a chill night. Aces. The salad was pleasant. I appreciated the lotus root chips for texture, although they were way too salty on their own. Obviously meant for contextual eating. The wasabi brightened everything else up nicely, and the soy drizzle around the salad provided a nice bit of sweetness to match with the crab. I don't think the mango played a role at all, really, but other than a bit of crab shell finding its way in, I had little to poke at. I really liked the idea of the oyster/risotto plate but was left wanting (I think) acid and a different plating. The bacon marmalade overpowered the oyster, but perfectly complimented the risotto. Once I flipped things over a bit (playing with my food is always fun) I was happier with the dish, but the initial bite was all smoke and starch. Not in a bad way, mind you, my plate was quickly cleaned afterwards. The acid would've helped imitate a bit of the briny bite I like in my oysters. The scallop was cooked perfectly. The veal cheek was rich and melty and comforting. The celery puree was a little sweet, but a nice contrast to the meaty richness of everything else. I do think that the textures matched too well. From top to bottom it was soft, softer, soft, softest. The truffle jus played up my nose a lot more than my tongue (which I appreciate) so it was the least of my concerns. The whole plate lacked texture for me, although all the individual components were delicious. People at the table used the comparison of baby food. Others said shephard's pie. Either way, I could've used some crunch. The dessert being gone was replaced (for me) with a coconut cream pie, which was subtle and fancier than the diner fare I've loved all my life, and was quite a nice way to top off the meal. All in all, it was delicious and fun and a great bargain. I had some problems with the pacing of the meal (and according to our server, so did the kitchen) and some minor complaints as seen above, but I'm excited to head back again. On the service - top notch. Really attentive and friendly and savvy enough to know that I got no problems with poaching leftover wine from vacated tables. They'll be seeing more of me.

Whether the people involved in Percy Street want to admit it or not, chances are the place is going to be closer to Fette Sau in Brooklyn than anything south of the Mason-Dixon. Independent beers by the gallon? Check. Young, urban chefs imitating (albeit respectfully) southern tradition? Check. Higher prices? Check. So you can't compare the prices to the deep, deep south. It's another country, and one that doesn't have the overheads of South Street. At Fette Sau you'd get a half-pound of brisket, half-order of baked beans, and (shock!) not have the choice of greens. You'd pay almost the exact same amount before drink and tip. Plus you don't have to pay for the round-trip bus to NYC and back. Expecting disappointment begets disappointment. Will I eat there? Yes. I will eat there and will make a complete mess of any shirt I dare wear to the table. If the food is good, I will eat there. If it's too expensive, I won't eat there as often. The more barbecue the better, I say.

A deviled egg blended with pulque and wrapped in a Fruit by the Foot.

I think I crave all of them at different times and for different reasons, but I'd have to say waffles. Sweet treat though they may be, I'd hate to see what would happen to the world if I couldn't put a piece of fried chicken on some breakfast food. Pancakes are too utilitarian. They're an easy go-to carb for slow, Sunday mornings. French toast is fun, but unless I'm making it myself I can usually expect something either too soggy or too dry. That sweet spot is hard to find at a lot of places. But a crispy waffle, little bit of butter, little bit of syrup, little bit of hot sauce, piece of fried chicken with it? Truly, this is the breakfast of truck driving gods.