Thursday, September 18, 2008

The (new) Red Room Can Bite Me.

Patchwork Couscous? Seriously?

When I was in college, I had the unfortunate sensory experience of having to learn to avoid a Tufts specialty referred to artfully on the weekly menu as “patchwork rice.” For those of you uninitiated, let me explain - Patchwork rice, as it was called, is the nasty result of unartful food recycling, and appeared in dining halls as dinner on Friday nights. Conveniently, you can make it yourself at home: simply save the leftovers from your dinner plate from Monday through Thursday. On Friday, nuke up some instant Uncle Ben's and then toss in the aforementioned scraps. Salt, pepper, lemon juice to taste. Et Viola! Patchwork Rice!

Why am I starting with such a luscious recipe?

Because I was served patchwork couscous at the Red Room. And it was not good. I never would have thought that the lunch ladies at Tufts (hey chickie chickie... ya wanna chickie chickie?) could one-up the new chef (my Pittsburgh food-crush, Kevin Sousa, has moved on to a new project) at The Red Room, but when it comes to the side dish served to me from the new, as-yet unpublished menu (more on that in a sec), along with my overcooked seared Ahi and 4 mushrooms (yup, count 'em, four)... well, the ladies in hairnets may have won that one.

So, here's how it went down:

I made a reservation for the Red Room as I was doing a little entertaining for work, since previously it was my favorite restaurant here in the burgh. We arrived at 6:30 p.m. Despite the fact that the dining room was near-empty (two other tables were seated) and the entire bar area was empty, we waited to be seated. Once seated, the hostess/waitress explained that “there are many new changes to the menu” but did not share (although when I saw the food I new it at once) that there is a new chef. She then rattled off essentially that the ENTIRE menu was changed or unavailable. Well, except for the Wagyu. Being that they had only 2 appetizers that they were actually serving, I asked if we could order off the happy hour app menu - and was told, rudely, that, “oh no. We never serve happy hour food in the dining room...” Only, since this is Pittsburgh, she went on her litany of explanations for over a minute, pretending to apologize. I'm a true northerner. Just say, “no. sorry.” and in two words, we're all happy.

But I digress.

We basically had no idea what we were ordering, since the entire menu has “been updated” (that's bullshit-speak for “our chef quit”) but they've not bothered to just print a new one. So, I bought the tuna, since that sounded like a safe choice, and the waitress made no reference to the fact that the entire preparation had changed until after I ordered it.

Here's what I was served:

a 6oz piece of overcooked tuna. This was fine. I ordered it “very raw” since that is how I like it. It was simply seasoned (s&p) and then seared to medium doneness. very dry on the outside. fine but boring, and I could have made it better myself at home. I was annoyed to have paid about $29 for it.

on a bed of the aforementioned patchwork couscous: This was a mistake. Firstly, the couscous was heavy, clumpy, and oily. I make couscous at home all of the time, because I am extremely tired and lazy. So when I go out, I have very little (read: zero) respect for when a chef would serve it to me for money. But at least when I make it (which takes five minutes and no talent whatsoever), I make it properly. At the Red Room, it was mixed with pieces of dried apricot, thin slices of asparagus spears (which were overdone and sulfury), salt, pepper, too much olive oil (!!), and SEAWEED. This was bad. I get the allusion to the sea in using seaweed with a fish dish, but it was a horrid pairing with the apricot-sulfur-citrus (lemon zest, I think, but am unsure) vaguely north-African reference of the couscous.

garnished with FOUR mushrooms. I like mushrooms at baseline. But these tasted like they'd been poached in sesame oil, and since sesame oil is so fragrant and overpowering, it sort of displaced whatever the natural flavor of the mushrooms might've been with the strong perfume of sesame seeds. Which, again, is an ingredient that I like, but not at this volume and, to my palate, not in this dish. It lent nothing and was not synergistic.

summary of the Tuna entrée: vague ideas of the classic Japanese-style pairing of tuna with seaweed and sesame got lost in the nod to badly done Moroccan couscous. Fish was tough and fishy from overcooking, asparagus drowned in its own sulfury over denatured stink, and the couscous looked and tasted like leftovers in my college caf.

Then we ordered dessert. There were three options. My husband got the chocolate bread pudding. I love chocolate. No lie. I actually LOVE it. But, like everything that matters to me, I can be kinda picky about it. So I'll leave you with this thought: it was bland, rubbery, and seemingly microwaved with a distinct spongy eggy-ness that readily staved off any remote desire I might have had for a second bite. At least I'll remain slimmer for another day.

the new Red Room breaks my heart. Boring food with mediocre preparation served by a confused waitstaff (I am wondering if my beloved server, Jim, disappeared with the prior chef?) doesn't engender customer loyalty. Especially at these prices. Especially in Pittsburgh.

Dinner for three, drinks, and two desserts, no apps, came to $164.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Up and Down and Patience

I recently learned that the chef of my up-til-now favorite burgh restaurant has moved on. While I am thrilled to know that Kevin Sousa has begun the process of branching out on his own (and I very much look forward to checking out this new endeavor), I am also kinda bummed out.

So, dear friendly readers and those who've noticed that I haven't had much to say recently, please know that more is coming. My first comment (I really am writing it, I swear...) will be a review of the new Red Room. Suffice it to say, I ate there last night and immediately noticed the lack of stellar service, that the food has become quite average and lacking in creativity (albeit well prepared), and that the dining room was... well... empty.