Cassava, and How it Started

We've been to so many places since Patrick and I met, nearly two years ago.  Many, if not most of them, special.  All worth remembering.  And after brunch at Cassava one beautiful Sunday afternoon, we decided this would be a nice way to do that.

We don't yet know what this is or what this will be, but here it is.

photo - cassavasf.com

Cassava, Outer Richmond, Brunch
February 21, 2016

P:
Meatballs in curry with rice + fried egg
beef & tofu meatballs, paneer, tomato cream curry gravy
Liége waffle

J:
Japanese breakfast
koshihikari rice, miso soup, pickled vegetables, wakame with mushroom, house cured market fish, soft shell-­poached egg in broth (natto available by request, which I did not)
Lemon verbena milk jam pot de crème


Notes:
The Japanese Breakfast made me impossibly happy. It was light and comforting at the same time. Little dishes of this and that; I was so excited I didn't know where to start. My first bite of rice was met with a surprise crunch of tiny salt crystals; almost startling at first (I didn't see them! And neither did Patrick, he was equally surprised.), but I was quick to appreciate their contribution (and so was he). The three small slices of lightly salt-cured fish sparkled like gems. The miso soup was full of sliced daikon and mushrooms, and the pickled veggies and wakame were an inspiration (seriously, I've decided I MUST learn how to make these things). But, the egg. That egg was amazing. The white, cooked somehow just enough to hold itself together, lazily surrounded a warm, jelled yolk. Hay-mazing.

I also had a pot of tea, which turned out to be a POT of tea. It was probably more suited to two, but it was a nice compliment. And, since I always insist on more(!), there was dessert. The pot de crème was lovely. Barely-there lemon verbena in a lightly set custard topped with little kisses of whipped cream and a few chocolate-covered rice crispies. Usually I would eschew toppings on my pot de crème (I have texture hang-ups, which you'll come to know and love), but this was altogether a nice little finish to the meal.

I would definitely like to return for the Japanese Breakfast. I'm hooked.

Patrick was perhaps not as enamored with the experience (this statement and all others to follow are likely to spark controversy). I sensed this and teased that I might need to bring myself here often and alone, as I would not ever wish to force him to endure something so terrible (I'm exaggerating, of course); this notion was immediately rejected.

He had two coffee drinks, because more(!). First was the honey spiced latte. Honey, I've been told, goes great with coffee, and here it provided just the right amount of sweetness. The spice was redolent of gingerbread, and though too just right, the very gingerbready-ness of the drink disappointed, it was not what he had in mind. For him, maybe worth another try sometime, with the honey but without the spice. The other coffee drink was something with "bourbon vanilla" and it actually tasted of bourbon (Patrick dislikes the taste of alcohol, generally). There was great debate over whether the bourbon was in fact bourbon, or if it was the Bourbon vanilla. Upon further investigation of Bourbon vanilla, I can say it's likely the former, but I'll leave it at that before this becomes a dissertation on Bourbon vanilla and coffee drinks.

 The meatballs arrived at the table in a screaming hot dish, curry bubbling up the side and crowned with a few leaves of arugula under a perfectly fried egg. It looked like something I wanted; I considered for a moment whether I had made the right choice. But Patrick shared, so crisis averted. The meatballs were tender and so juicy. The flavorful curry sauce was of the Indian persuasion, much to Patrick's surprise (not Japanese as he had thought/hoped - I think the paneer should have been a tip-off to the Indian flavors, but when you really want something, reason is sometimes not on your side). The egg topper kept the dish from cooling down, so it had to go (in his mouth). Ultimately, though, the temperature was a little off-putting - it was simply too hot to eat. That said, it was delicious once you could get into it.

The liége waffle, offered on the menu with eggs and bacon, or not on the menu as a stand-alone dessert as we had it, was the only thing I was disappointed in.  It was under-waffled (as in, not properly browned and undercooked) and since it contains pearl sugar (which *should* turn into little pockets of sweetness inside the waffle), it was not served with syrup.  Being served without syrup is no crime of course, but not a single bite I had contained any pearl sugar, and I kept trying in an effort to find it - the sweetness was sorely missed.  Sadly, this just wasn't what it should have been.  Whether Patrick liked or disliked this still remains a mystery.

Overall, Patrick wasn't unhappy with what he had, but he would try something else the next time we visit.

And there will be a next time.  (Hopefully.)

You likely won't see any food photos here, but I happened to stumble across this one from a local style blogger and had to share it.  This is almost exactly what we had for brunch (minus the desserts)...she's got great taste, wouldn't you say?!