Sometimes I get lucky. Sure, I do my research. Check online for reviews, pictures and menus describing a restaurants offerings. Review maps on what the best route will be, where there is likely to be parking. I make sure all my ducks are in a row so that I can focus my time on the food. Often times, like so many carefully placed dominoes, my plans will tumble, one after the other until I have a horrible dining experience. But again, sometimes, I get lucky. Tonight I made plans to visit Brasa in Belltown. And it was a lucky night.

I crossed the threshold of Brasa into its cavernous dining area. From the outside it appeared to be no more than a fairly ample eatery but I was quite surprised to learn that it could hold upwards of 190 people. Many of the tables and booths were set-up to accommodate large parties of five or more but I was shown to a banquette table built for two, though I was the only one. Service was a little sluggish to get started but fortunately I was in no rush. Be prepared to take your time at this Mediterranean inspired restaurant as you can be assured the same from the staff. Though once I had tucked into my dinner I was glad that the kitchen had taken the time with my food.

It was the Beef Tenderloin ($25.00) that I lucked out upon. An inch and a half thick cut of meat, it was seared to a beautiful mahogany on the outside yet still possessed a warm, pink interior. From the first bite I was hit with the essence of the wood-fired grill upon which my steak was cooked. Typically I am used to this kind of woody flavor only from barbeque but I was almost overpowered by the thick taste of oak. A very bold flavor that, surprisingly, didn’t take away from the beefy flavor of the tenderloin. This was perched atop a mound of creamy, buttery potatoes. On the menu they are called “potato puree” but you can call them whipped. But don’t let that fool you these were not standard issue. Starchy and smooth most people would be hard pressed to duplicate these results at home. As a compliment the potatoes were skirted by a mélange of fava beans and shallots. Cooked until almost tender the fava beans still held a snap but not so much as to detract. A nice counterpoint was the mushroom demi glace that they sat in. Large bits of chopped mushroom, tasting heavily of sage, floated in a purplish-brown sauce reduction that expertly coated everything it came in contact with from beans to potato to steak.

Before tonight I was somewhat wary of Brasa before today I find that I had little to concern myself with. Presented the task of preparing a simple steak they went several steps beyond by invoking in me an experience. What was this experience? While I ate I kept thinking to myself, “What does this remind me of?” As I polished off the last bite of tenderloin it hit me - camping. True, it would be upscale camping but nonetheless, a meal straight off a campfire. With the oak-y smoke kissed steak, the al dente beans and the woody morel mushrooms I could think of little else than sitting in sun-dappled woods with a wonderful meal. Of course be forewarned if you decide to follow my trail and try this dinner for yourself (Which you should). If you are adverse to bold flavors this may not be the meal for you.

When I think back to my childhood experiences with seafood, two words come to mind - Red Lobster. My parents, while they did having cooking expertise, were lacking when it came to restaurant culture. Until I moved out on my own and began choosing restaurants for myself I thought that Red Lobster was the pinnacle of seafood eateries. I only mention this to educate you as to what is my scale for grading seafood. Once you’ve eaten at Red Lobster nearly everything else afterwards should be great. Right? Well it is with that history in mind that I drove West from Fremont to Ray’s Cafe.

The one thing I can say for Ray’s Cafe that Red Lobster never had is the view. I was fortunate enough to get a table by the back windows that led out to the deck. Situated right on the water allows Ray’s diners to stare out onto the sound and the boats and cruise ships on their way to and from harbor. As for the service, well, I only had one person wait on me so I can’t make a generalization about the entire staff but my server was sort of real clueless. From gaffes on the recitation of the specials menu (If you don’t know what ponzu sauce and golden beets are, ask someone to explain them to you) to the drive-by serving, I almost would have preferred to wait on myself. But soon enough my food had arrived and I can focus on what I had come for, fish.

Blackened Red Rockfish ($13.95) is what I ended up ordering. While I wasn’t expecting an haute cuisine presentation I was expecting something different from what arrived. The fish was overly covered in sour cream and avocado sauces effectively camouflaging the filet from view. I scraped off some of the excess sauce and cut into the fish. It was flakey and moist with a medium fish flavor but fresh nonetheless. The blackening spice crust that remained intact after the fish’s saucing added a nice peppery zing to the smooth, creamy flesh of the fish. The sauces themselves lacked any sort of real flavor outside of sour cream. Unfortunately that was enough flavor to drown out the delicate blackening spices on my fish. The polenta that the fish was perched upon held some promise though. Having a deep corn flavor reminiscent of masa corn tamales the polenta was spiked with whole kernel corn and bits of carrot. Its only drawback would be the overall dryness. A little less time in the pan, allowing it to stay moist and creamy, would have made a huge difference. As for the “vegetables” that ringed the outer edges of my plate, I merely poked at them. Lifeless onions, peppers and carrots in an impotent “Creole” sauce were nothing to write home or in this review about save to say, “avoid it”.

So how does Ray’s Cafe stack up to Red Lobster? Well, quite frankly, if I gave Ray’s a ranking of equal I’d be feeling mighty generous. While I know that Ray’s Cafe is not the more upscale Boathouse and that my expectations should be tempered, I cannot help but think that one restaurant lives atop the other. Even with being less expensive shouldn’t the quality be the same? But then again, maybe it is. Perhaps Ray’s Boathouse has the same ho-hum offerings. I’m a little gun-shy now as far as Ray’s is concerned so it may be a while before I decide to return to review the Boathouse. One this is for sure though. Ray’s Cafe will not be seeing me return at any point in the near future.

For the most part I dine at restaurants that are fairly laid back, casual spots where one can feel comfortable wearing a t-shirt and jeans. It’s not that I have anything against getting dressed up, I think I clean-up fairly well even, it’s just that I feel much more at ease doing a review without having to worry about looking like a schlub. To wrap up French Food Fight Week I stopped at Campagne down at Pike Place Market (I seem to have spent quite a bit of time in that area of town this week) for dinner. And while there was no dress code policy I felt underdressed the moment I walked through the door. As the evening and my dinner wore on my self-consciousness didn’t fade.

Most of my fellow diners were dressed as though they were ready for a night out at a Broadway musical. While I had arrived early and the dining room was empty it didn’t stay that way long. By the time my entree arrived the place was over half full and people were still arriving. Fortunately for me I had a table by one of the large windows that looked out over the market, the bay and West Seattle beyond. I amused myself with watching the last of the day’s market shoppers wrap up their purchases while listening to the tango music on the overhead sound system. I caught myself a couple of times wondering if this is what dining in a fine restaurant in France would be like. But I was able to snap myself into reality long enough to place my order with the friendly, knowledgeable staff.

I started with an order of Asperges ($10.00). The plate that arrived held an expertly stacked square of marinated asparagus. Each spear was coated in a tart, tangy, shallot-filled vinaigrette. The vegetables themselves were cooked tender but retained a bit of their fresh snap. Holding the stack of asparagus in place was creamy smooth goat’s cheese. Savory, earthy and with a slightly sour, wild flavor the cheese was an interesting flavor combination for the starchy spears and tart, lemony vinaigrette. Rounding out the flavors was an olive tapenade that dotted the outer edges of the plate’s surface.

For the main entree I choose Poisson du Jour ($26.00) and a side order of Epinards ($6.00). The fish for the day was Fluke, which is a member of the Flounder family. The filet I received was much thicker than I’m used to seeing but was very tender for such a large piece of fish. Have a mild flavor itself the fish was assisted by the golden-brown, peppery crust that was formed during its pan sauté. Flakey and moist the Fluke was cooked perfectly. It had been plated on top of a small salad of warm cucumber slices and a chiffinade of salad greens. Below this was a puree of Walla Walla onion. This latter element was a little odd, sweet and starchy as a root vegetable should be but just not the right combination with the fish, at least not in my opinion. The cucumber salad though worked well. Even being warm the cucumbers were a nice contrast, with their cool flesh, to the savory, peppery fish. The epinards (Spinach) I had ordered as a side dish were a great bridge between my appetizer and the main meal. Sautéed thoroughly so that the leaves were fork tender they were coated in a lemony butter sauce that provided a bit of pucker that was reminiscent of the asparagus. A nice choice if you decide to go with the fish.

Of course the menu you that one sees one day will not necessarily be the menu of the next day. Campagne changes their offerings quite often depending on what is available at that time. Though they are listed as a French restaurant I would definitely rank Campagne as an upscale, fine-dining establishment with French influences and techniques, instead of a strict French bistro/restaurant. My recommendation to anyone deciding to check them out, and I suggest you do, at least once, plan on getting a little dressed up. Guys tuck in your shirt and wear a tie. Ladies, well, you probably don’t need fashion advice from me. However you decide to dress expect to dine on well-prepared food in an accommodating environment.

I almost ended French Food Fight Week early after last night’s disappointing dinner. “Perhaps,” I thought, “my meal at Cremant was indicative of how French fare truly is.” Maybe I’m just a wuss of an American who enjoys nothing but white bread and mayonnaise (That is far from the truth though as I really don’t enjoy either of those). “This whole French cuisine thing,” I postulated, “may very well, for me, be categorized much like I rate Thai food.” Okay, but not really a cuisine I would actively seek out. After some debate I decided to continue on with the remaining two restaurants on my list. I was not going to let one poor experience tarnish my tasting. So with nervous anticipation I fought my way through West bound traffic from Kirkland into Downtown Seattle to be on time for my 5:30 PM reservation at Chez Shea.

While at the last two restaurants I visited I was lucky to get a table due to my lack of a reservation, Chez Shea was a ghost town. I was the first and only guest. And yes, I had called ahead to have space saved for me. No matter, I enjoy having a restaurant to myself, the server focusing their attention on only me. This, I feel, is a great measure of a restaurant’s level of service. You see, during busy times it’s possible to excuse bad service as being busy, whereas if I am the only person eating, then there is no excuse for lousy service. As it turns out I had no need for complaint, as my server was prompt and courteous, providing me with bread, butter and water right away. With my order placed I turned my attention to staring out the window of Chez Shea onto Pike Place Market below and a fuzzy, misty Elliot Bay just beyond.

The first course to arrive from the kitchen was Le Chatelain Camembert & Leek Tart ($7.00). A crispy, golden-brown base of puff pastry was topped with large chunks of sea-fresh Dungeness crab and lobster. The shellfish was especially rich tasting as if it had just come out of a languishing soak in drawn butter. This may have been due to the wilted leek, with its mild flavor, and buttery puff pastry goodness. Crisp and rich the tart was further complimented by the rich, salty taste of melted Camembert cheese. Had it not made me look like a glutton I most likely would have ordered three more of this savory gems.

For the entree I decided upon Natural Filet of Beef Tenderloin ($30.00). While keeping my expectations low I cut a slice off the filet and ran it through the demi glace reduction. I will say that the beef was not stellar. As far as filets are concerned, and I know they are a very mild tasting cut from a cow, this one was more mildly flavored than most. But this was a perfect canvas for the thick and beefy reduction sauce. With a slightly sweet note the demi glace had the consistency of maple syrup and a savory flavor that paired well with the deeply browned crust of my filet. Melting in both the filet and sauce was a pat of truffle butter that added a very rich butter overtone to what could have been, if served alone, a dreary cut of meat. To accompany my filet were potatoes au gratin and asparagus. The asparagus was cooked just to done allowing it to retain its snap and garden fresh taste. But what really caught my eye with the sides were the potatoes. Not merely content to just slice potatoes and throw them in a cream sauce to soak in an oven, the chef prepared these spuds in a unique manner. Sliced paper thin, potatoes were stacked layer upon layer to form something of a small potato “cake”. This was then baked allowing the inner slices to steam and gently cook to a fork tender doneness and the outer crust to form, golden-brown and delicious. Topped with melted fresh mozzarella cheese this was one of the more simple au gratin techniques I’ve seen and by far the best.

To finish off the meal I ordered Meyer Lemon & Lavender Cheesecake ($7.00). Not your typical cheesecake the filling was sandwiched between two crispy sheets of pastry, each one thin as paper and as brittle as glass. The pastry provided a perfect base for cheesecake that had the physical appearance and heft of being dense but with one but all on tasted was airiness, lemon and the most faint of flowery notes. Dabbed in a bit of the provided lemon and berry sauce the cheesecake took on profiles of both fresh sweetness and pucker-y tart. While not what I’d consider a true cheesecake, since I almost licked the plate clean, I won’t quibble.

I am now two for three Seattle. Chez Shea, in my estimation, can join the ranks of fine French dining along with, well, for now, Le Pichet. But with tonight’s dinner I have renewed hope that the majority of my French dining experiences will turn out for the best. And if not then I at least have two great example of the cuisine to choose from. While set-up to be the more romantic of the two restaurants don’t allow that to deter you from taking friends, family or co-workers for an early evening dinner while watching the sun set across the sound. Who knows, you may even see me there, again, over the next few weeks.

One would think that I’d learn, but I don’t. It’s not so much the failure to grasp a concept though as it is sheer stubbornness. Like Frank Sinatra, I aim to say, “I did it my way.” Well my way includes not calling ahead to make a reservation and today I almost paid for my bull-headed nature. Of course it could be said that part of my reviews cover certain dining faux pas, showing you, the reader, what pit falls await you so that you may avoid them. So tonight, for the second night in a row, I visited a popular restaurant, hoping to get a table, without a reservation. Fortunately for me I was able to secure a spot, with a little hemming and hawing by the staff and promising from myself that I would be gone in under an hour, at one of the highly sought after tables of Cremant.

Fortunately for me I had studied the chalkboard menu just outside the entrance and had a good idea of what I would order. And that was the Cassoulet de Toulouse ($20.00), which to me sounded like a very French dish to order at such a French sounding establishment. Whether it was warning to me to eat fast or simply an informational comment I was told that I should expect for the cassoulet to take about twenty minutes to prepare. I kept myself busy with a sliced baguette the server deposited at my table and the book I carry with me for just these sorts of situations. Of all the great things I heard about Cremant I couldn’t wait to get this dish that, at least to me, screamed traditional French.

It took just under the aforementioned twenty minutes for the small Dutch oven containing my cassoulet to arrive at my table. While I had envisioned a large-ish plate in reality I was brought a cooking vessel that could have easily fed four people. If nothing else one gets a lot of food for their dollar but how does it taste. Here is where my dinner took a turn for the worse. The waiter served me up a bit of the stewed beans along with the Toulouse sausage, which looked fantastic. But upon cutting into the casing an outpouring of greasy rendered pork fat flooded the plate. Immediately I knew this sausage had not been pierced to allow the fat to meld with the bean-y goodness of the rest of the cassoulet. I cut off a slice or two and bit into the wonderfully mild, somewhat sweet, coarsely ground pork sausage. A hint of sage and rosemary this would have been a wonderful treat all the way through had it been cooked completely. You see, once I got past the first slice or two on the ends of the sausage the middle was so undercooked that the only word I can use is raw. While I thought maybe this is a traditional French preparation of pork sausage, to leave it well underdone, the duck confit told a different story. Stringy, tough and covered in its rubbery, waterproof skin the duck was nothing like the moist, fall-off-the-bone duck confit I’ve enjoyed in the past. Taking several bits I had to deal with either chewy skin or gristle and sinew from the hind corner of this poorly prepared canard. The saving grace to all of this was the pork filled bean stew with its extra crispy breadcrumb top-crust. The beans were buttery and tender while the pork added a nice smoky meatiness. Unfortunately I paid $20.00 for what amounts to no more that pork and beans.

I’ve written about eating at the latest fad restaurants and how they typically disappoint. I’ve also read where Cremant has, shortly after their grand opening, had great cuisine to offer its diners. But what happened tonight? The decor was beautiful (When I buy a house I hope to include some of the same exposed concrete details in my interior.), the staff willing to find me a seat and take a chance I wouldn’t camp out. But the kitchen, where the real light of a restaurant should shine, was on holiday. While cassoulet is not the easiest of dishes to make I would have thought that for a restaurant such as Cremant that this would not be a problem. While I did notice one or two other menu items that looked worth trying I don’t think that I’ll be returning to try them anytime soon.