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...