oh so French

I went to dinner the other night at Le Zinc, a fabulous little French bistro in Noe Valley. I can't remember how I found out about it, but when I checked out the website, I thought it looked promising, but I didn't set my expectations too high. Turns out, it's one of my new favorite places.

What amused me the most was the (unintentional) entertainment provided by our waiter, who I suspect might be one of the owners. Both situations involved wine. First, I found out that my dinner companion had never tried the famed Chateauneuf-du-Pape wine (Quel dommage!) so that made our wine selection easy. He didn't let me see how much it cost, and to be honest, I don't want to know :) The waiter brought the bottle over, and I did the taste test. Sniff, sniff. Aaaaahhhh - the distinct smell of the rocky Rhone terrain and the peppery Chateauneuf-du-Pape scent. I liked it already as I recalled memories of drinking it on the beach in Barcelona in the summer of 99...but enough reminscing.

Upon first taste, I thought it might be rather light (my revised opinion of this is that it's probably a nicer version than I'm used to drinking, and therefore smoother). The waiter was sniffing the cork and looked a bit concerned. "Wait just a minute" he said in his French accented-English as he reached behind the bar to grab a glass. He poured himself a tiny taste, sniffed, tasted, and then smiled. "Ah, I thought the cork had smelled a little funny, but no...it's perfect!" So, my assessment of this is that I just think he wanted to share our bottle with us :) What I was amused by is his true concern that, oh no, there might be something wrong with the wine, and we just can't have that.

With our dessert we each ordered a glass of port. This happened to be the nicest port on the menu, and our waiter was confused behind the bar as he compared different bottles. He explained to us that he wanted to make sure he gave us the right one, and after animated consultation between himself, another waitress, and the head chef (and yes, this included tasting by two of them) they came to a decision, went back into the gated behind-the-bar wine cellar, and opened us a fresh bottle of a very yummy and smooth port wine. (Do you see a theme here? No, not with my drinking, but with theirs!)

Overall, all the food was excellent and beyond my expectations. It wasn't that I don't have high hopes or respect for SF restaurants, but rather, despite the proliferation of "French" restaurants in San Francisco, so many of them end up being influunced by "Californian" cuisine, or other fusion with vietnamese, for example. This place, however, was 100% French. From the tasting starters (the proper word escapes me at the moment) of a white beet puree in a teeny tiny pint-type glass, to the dill-mint chilled soup in a shot glass size bowl (and before you stop here and start ranting about tiny portions, these are supposed to be small - really), to the appetizers of foie gras, scallop dumplings, and some other weird meat product that I actually liked, the meal was off to an excellent start. We split an entree of boef bourgignone, and then the cheese place for dessert. Yummy yummy.

I didn't have the guts to order in French or anything, but after the port was sorted I did say "Merci beaucoup pour votre attention" because I thought hey, maybe he'll appreciate it. Considering he didn't correct me or even answer back in English, I think it was taken the right way.