The last time I had brunch, I was blown away. The chicken n' waffles were out of this world, and I was enchanted. Well there's a reason fairy tales end when they do because dinner was not so ideal.
We started on a hopeful note, as bold bitterness compounded in the Crispy Brussels Sprouts. Grilled char and a hint of mustard took the taste buds by storm.
The Grilled Octopus was fabulously soft and tender, but the dish lacked direction. The octopus sat simply salted upon a hodge-podge of chorizo chunks, other veggies, and cauliflower puree, a somewhat non-coherent combination.
Dinner deteriorated with the Dungeness Crab Beignet. The breaded balls bore no resemblance to beignets, and the runny cream filling clogged the senses and annihilated the crab. All texture was undetectable, lost in a flood of cream.
The Seafood Bouillabaisse was just bad. The broth was brimming with potential, and the small mussels were the most flavor-packed I've had, but the thin stew was floating with just a few sad strips of fish. That's a high price for paucity.
The dessert was a sweet ending, redemption for a horrid middle-meal, with light, fried puffs landing lightly upon a Pot de Creme. The rich chocolate coated the dipping donuts as both melted in your mouth.
Dinner had me deflated, but brunch keeps me elated. The Corned Beef Hash, for example, is a classic that doesn't miss. It's a big bowl, chunky, with generous cubes of perfect corned beef.
The Chicken and Waffles still have the best batter west of the Mississippi, and those vinegar-up-the-nose collared greens make you want to slap yo' mama. The gravy could be more gutsy, but the light preparation adds a nice highlight to the chicken.
Stick with something you love long enough, and you're bound to find things you don't like as much. I'll still stand by my beloved James Republic for brunch, but I won't be sticking around for dinner.
