Nine on Nine - Part Three (Are We Done Yet?)

If you know me, then you know how I like to test limits. Imagine a two-year-old with a new babysitter. Now grow her up and take her out to dinner...

and so, such is what happened at Nine on Nine.

When the waiter finally approached our table to check on the food, he clearly expected that our mouths would be too full to tell him how it sucked. But, I didn't eat it, so I was prepared to offer up my little test. I said to the waiter, “I am not going to eat this, so I don't need you to do anything about it, but if I were the chef here I would certainly want to know that the pasta is completely raw. Not al dente, but raw. This dish in inedible.” I was nice about it, but he clearly knew I thought the food was bad. The amazing part was his reply. “Oh, ok.” and then HE NEVER CAME BACK UNTIL HE TRIED TO SELL US DESSERT! huh? What kind of fine dining establishment leaves a patron clearly and obviously unhappy? I was curious what they'd do with my making their fixing it optional. And apparently, the bare minimum, aka nothing.

As I often say to my friend Kathleen, words are nice but what really matters is action. And from the folks at Nine of Nine, I got shockingly no action whatsoever.

We did not order dessert, I was too disappointed to be bothered.

Apparently, that which defines “fine dining” in Pittsburgh is your being served a bunch of free shit with your meal. In addition to the amuse and the intermezzo, we were served (with the bill) a PB and J themed sweets plate (freebie #3 for those of you who are counting). This was a cute idea. Peanut butter truffles (too big, rock hard and still a little frozen, but with good flavor albeit amateurish – reminiscent of the peanutbuttercuppish chocolates my mom made in the 80's) alongside white-grape jellies (plain and sweet) were offered. As my mother always said, there's no such thing as a free lunch. And in the case of Nine on Nine, all three of the freebies actually detracted from the meal.

The total came to about $100 for 2 drinks, one app, two entrees before tax and tip.

Now, I don't mind at all paying $300 to Ken Oringer for an occasional meal - because when he's in the kitchen, I enjoy sublime food art. But for this hoity-toity pig's swill... well, actions matter more than words, so

We don't plan to go back.

Summary judgment for Nine on Nine: not worth the time and money. Dishes are overthought and underexecuted. Some aspects of menu planning seem odd. Service was bizarre and negligent. Did a nice job with fish skin and fennel and not much else.

Nine on Nine - Part Two

This is part two of my review of Nine on Nine. Part one appears below.

So, after we had drinks (well, we ordered drinks, I will confess that mine was too unpalatable to drink, and the server took it away without offering me anything else even though it was 80% full. Frankly, it was flavorless and just not worth the calories)...

For an appetizer, we went for the “Filet on Filet” - an obvious and lame play on the name of the restaurant. We were served a sad, bland pile of macerated meat (without onion, egg, capers, lemon... ) dressed with some greens atop some slightly dried-out-on-the-edges halfway-to-braseola pieces of meat. For a mostly-vegetarian, it is rare that I order beef, but as some of you may know, I prefer my meat raw if I am going to eat it. The quality of the ingredient was there, but the flavor was so bland, I actually asked the waiter to bring me some lemon. The addition of acid really improved the dish.

Freebie #2 (freebie #1 was the amuse, in part one) was then presented as an intermezzo of “watermelon soup” which was a shotglass of room-temp watermelon puree with water and a bit of mint.

I pondered the cosmic question: spit or swallow?

It was repulsive. I admit that I spat it out at the table, manners be damned. It was that nasty.

Now for the piece de resistance: for my entree, I ordered the barramundi. By eavesdropping on a nearby table (populated by loud marble-mouthed yinzers, but hey, they got service so they clearly know something I do not) I learned from their server that the barramundi was supposed to be served with a house-made saffron-tinged pasta and kalamata olives, and topped with fennel. Right up my alley. So I ordered it. What I was served was a major disappointment. The fish was just slightly overcooked, but it was flavorful and served with a crisp skin that I appreciated. The fennel was nicely seasoned and absolutely delicious. And that is where the praise ends. Where were the olives? (I will confess to you that when I altered and reheated the leftovers – which were at least 85% of my dish, I did find one (one olive!) the next day). But the biggest let-down was the pasta. It was painfully undercooked and cold.

House-made pasta! For you at home who have never made pasta, I will share that the reason I was so stunned by this is that homemade pasta is so naturally moist, you just flash it in salted boiling water until it is heated through, and typically worry about overcooking it – so, how in the realm of the laws of physics and the culinary universe they managed to undercook it, well, I will never know. And I am no pasta pussy. I understand the concept of al dente. It just was an unflavored (not a sprig of saffron, I would testify - mystery ingredient #2), dry, cold, stiff, inedible mass. To be sure I wasn't being overcritical, I fed a bite to Todd, who exclaimed, “ew. what was that?”

What was that, indeed?

Nine on Nine - Part One

In my search for a well-prepared, graciously-served meal in da burgh, I made a reservation at Nine on Nine. After all, this place has received top billing among Pittsburgh's top restaurants from all of the local guides and newspapers. As I have been writing this, I noticed it got superlong. I'll be presenting it to you in parts, so you can savor the flavor over a few days. (That, and I am too lazy to edit).

We arrived about a minute before the hour of our reservation and the hostess offered us what was arguably the worst table in the restaurant (behind the host's station and directly in front of the curtain-door into the kitchen) or an “at least 20 minutes' wait.”

Interesting, especially because the dining room was about half empty and it was 8:30 p.m. on a weeknight. But, um, ok... we accepted the crappy table, figuring that I would enjoy the clear view into the goings-on in the kitchen. I did get to see the guy who did the final plating wipe his nose and forehead with his bare hands and then continue to work. Excellent vantage point, indeed!

First a comment on service, since it is easy: the service was hurried, snide, and a little curt. Our waiter arrived at our table and hurriedly offered us menus with no introduction nor explanation, and no advertising of specials as we had seen offered to others nearby. Must've been the table. Either that, or I have developed a hideous pong. Who can say? I suggest this since we were treated in a curt and hurried manner throughout the remainder of the evening. The food runner even cleared a plate from which I was still eating!

As I have mentioned before, I am noone important. And clearly, at Nine on Nine, they wanted me to know it.

And now, the snackeroos:

We were served together, at one time, a stale and dull breadbasket and an amuse bouche that was stated to be panzanella. A rant: why on earth in EVERY DAMN PLACE we go out to eat in Pittsburgh do the servers imagine that we have never eaten food other than sausages before? Nine on Nine was no exception, and we were offered the terse explanation (though we did not ask...) that it was a “bread salad.” Ok. a breadbasket with a bread salad? To the chef: plan the menu. It helps.

I ordered a drink, a cherry blossom martini. It was described as Effen cherry vodka and a splash of almond liquor with house-made cherry sours. Sounds delectable, right? wrong. It was, in reality, watered-down and bland, and I solemnly swear that there was definitely no almond in there. Almond is hard to miss. Almond is a clear and easy-to-detect aromatic. It is distinctive. It was also absent. This brings up something I will have to expand upon later – but I have noticed, that in da burgh, mystery ingredients abound. By this, I can only guess that (see server's behavior above) many folks here must have no idea what they're tasting most of the time. Because we (Todd and I) have both noticed several instances of our being told that an ingredient was in a dish that absolutely and certainly was not. But more on the fact that my nose knows later...

Before I lapse into a hyperglycemic coma, I should describe how you can make Nine on Nine's version of panzanella at home: get flavored croutons. lightly rehydrate them in water and bland vinaigrette. plop on a plate and toss 1/8 cup of microgreens on top. claim it is panzanella. Perhaps they felt the need to explain the amuse (rather haughtily for peasant food, I might add) lest we wonder if it was an error of their having washed the food sent back by others and just served it again.

more to come...

A little about me

I figure that there is little point of my blasting the blogosphere (who the hell came up with this word?) with my foodie opinions and musings about Pittsburgh without first offering a sense of who I am, and why you might care about what I think. So, here're my qualifications:

I have none.

Which is precisely why you should care. I am not paid by advertisers, I am not the e-whore of a friend in the local restaurant biz. I'm just a girl in the world, as Gwen Stefani said so many years ago. I moved to the 'burgh about a month ago from a larger, northeastern city. And I will confess to you a few truths about me: I am a food snob. I am very choosy about what I eat since I watch my weight like it's my job. I have a nature-given extremely accurate sense of smell, and as a result, my palate is extremely accurate - both a blessing and a curse. I am a self- (and mommy-) taught high-end home chef with a passion for great ingredients, and I am impressed by creativity and thoughtfulness in preparation (so long as flavor isn't sacrificed). I've been exploring "molecular gastronomy" at home. I care about the nutritional content, eco-sourcing, and integrity of the food I eat. Well, except for Cheetos. Those things are amazing, and we all are imperfect, after all.

Since moving to Pittsburgh, I have been disappointed by the restaurant experiences (as well as a few fascinating cultural and ethnic phenomena) I've had here, as a whole. I keep griping about how totally paid-off and biased the usual sources of snacktime reviews have been (as this can be the only explanation for the high-falutin' crap I have been served by strange and surly waitstaff at the purported finest of Steeltown). So I am trying to do something, however small, about it.

Up next: my review of one of Pittsburgh's top spots, where I had dinner (well, dinner was served to me, but more on that later) last night. Nine on Nine, I hope you are reading. 'Cuz dinner sucked.

Steeltown Girl on Saturday Night...

I hearken back to Flashdance and sing along... "just a steeltown girl on a saturday night..."

This newly minted Steeltown girl likes to eat out - I am just kinda lazy and am not always up to cooking. I also enjoy a leisurely dinner with friends. So when I recently relocated to Shadyside, one of Pittsburgh's more chic neighborhoods, flush with well-reviewed dining hotspots, I figured I would never lack for a hip place to eat.
but
then I started going out.
and
lots of the food here is bad.

or, worse than full-on bad. I have, to date, only had one meal in Pittsburgh's "finer dining" establishments that I felt was better-than-mediocre.

so I hope that you'll join me as I explore and offer my unbiased reviews of wine, cuisine, and a few other musings as I get to know my new home of Pittsburgh. Just wait... I am no midwestern girl, which is to say that I am not always nice.