I’ve been a little remiss in my attention to new(er/ish) restaurants, and of eateries in downtown in general, as of late. But there was one place I’ve eyed for several weeks now, slowly driving by on Sunday afternoon - stalking it if you will. BOKA is the restaurant of which I speak. An acronym for Bold Original Kitchen Artistry, I had noticed BOKA several months ago on my way to attend a friend’s birthday celebration in a Pioneer Square bar. I made a promise to myself to return once it had opened in order to review it. Unfortunately weeks passed and BOKA slipped from my thoughts until fairly recently. As it turns out I had been spending a bit more of my weekends downtown over the past thirty days and nearly everyday I’d find myself driving North on First Avenue, snatching side-long glances at BOKA’s facade until I finally decided to just find a parking lot and stop in.

The interior design follows the name of the restaurant quite well as it is artistically designed. A mix of wood, steel and glass, along with an interesting light wall at the back of the space, made themselves out as a bold space for dining. This was a Sunday, around noon, when I first stopped in so the crowd was, well, there was no crowd. All of one table was occupied and during my stay there were never more than eight guests in the entire restaurant, so service was okay though a bit sleepy in their movements. While I waited I took some enjoyment from the ever changing light wall (These small things amuse me). Slowly melting from a deep, Mediterranean Sea blue to a hazy yellow with a peachy, orange sunset rim to electric blue, sea foam green, Red Hots ™ candy red and then back to blue again.

I don’t typically go for brunch but since the opportunity for a review presented itself during the brunching hour, I decided it would be a treat for you the readers. The selections were fairly simple, being presented on a single sheet with sections broken out into starters, brunch and mains. My choice was BOKA Grilled Cheese & Soup ($10.00). The grilled cheese was tasty but nothing to write home about. A crispy exterior Panini grilled to achieve golden-brown lines across its surface, the sandwich held a creamy pillow of cheese between its crunchy bread walls. Some of the oozed out along the edges, crisping along with the bread as it cooked, adding an intense, somewhat salty crust to the already crunchy bread. A cup of tomato bisque was presented along with the sandwich and when I say cup I mean just that. Reminiscent of a coffee cup the vessel came complete with handle. But unlike coffee this bisque was meek and ineffectual in the flavor department. I had a hard time detecting any tomato flavor and the only saving grace were the drizzle of basil oil and crunchy, crumbly brioche croutons. In a little pile at one end of the plate was a micro greens salad that was punctuated with a spicy vinaigrette and pickled pepper dressing, very tasty but, like the greens, the portion was micro.

Not wanting to limit my perception of BOKA to just a ho-hum brunch experience I decided I’d make a trip back during dinner a few days later. So it was that I ended up downtown on a Tuesday evening. Obviously nothing much had changed in the way of decor but there were significantly more people in the restaurant. Actually, to be more accurate, these people were in the bar area of the restaurant, enjoying strong (Very strong) cocktails and each other’s (Presumably) company. Even with twice the number of patrons the mood was still hushed and reserved, a vein I would later detect in the food. I began with two different “starters”, one which was listed in the Urban Bites section of the menu and the other in the Starters section. I’m not sure the exact differences between the two as both my selections, when they arrived, were small. My urban bite was an order of Maine Lobster Croquettes ($5.00). As far as the strict definition of a croquette is concerned these little bites were right on. Extremely crunchy on the outside with their panko bread crumb shells the interiors smooth and slightly creamy but maybe a bit too pasty. The lobster flavor was subtle with a random lump of the lobster’s meat deposited here and there. Nice and tasty but so far nothing bold.

I had hoped that would change with a cup of Mushroom Bisque ($4/Cup, $7/Bowl). Unfortunately, like the tomato bisque from my brunch experience, the mushroom version was just as lacking in flavor. And actually the best part of the soup, again, was the topping added to it. A bit of melted cheese and a drizzle of oil made for an interesting bite or two but couldn’t do much to get past mildly flavored bisque. There were bits of sliced mushroom languishing throughout the concoction but even they were bland.

As I was about to give up hope, here arrived the main entree - Striped Bass ($26.00). Served atop a mix of potato and carrot, embellished with tiny Manila clams, the fish was beautifully cooked. Something of a more wild fish flavor than some may prefer I enjoyed the taste that the fish offered. Moist and flaky the meat had substance and arrived wearing a crackling, crispy skin that I’ve normally only seen on roast chicken. Peppery, the skin went well with the sweetness of the clams that were presented, along the aforementioned carrots and potatoes, as “chowder”. Those quotes are both BOKA’s and mine as this was only chowder in the loosest sense that a chowder’s ingredients were represented in the shallow, bowl-like dish. Nevertheless the addition and contrasts were interesting. Hiding beneath my plank of fish were greens that had been sautéed until very tender and a garlic potato puree that I had the bad luck to find near the end of the meal. I say bad luck as I truly would have liked to have had these earlier. Creamy and smooth with a subtle hint of roasted garlic they were, at the same time, buttery and rich.

To review, there were a lot of adjectives above describing the food at BOKA as less than bold and I’d hardly say anything original. While the food was good it’s not quite what I expected. Perhaps it’s due to a lack of patronage, after all, aside from those at the bar and myself, there was only one other party dining last night. If BOKA expects to succeed with such a, uh, well, bold name they need to, in the words of Emeril, “Kick it up a notch”; in some cases maybe two. My comments to the chef would be to, “not worry about being daring”. Sure you make drive away a lot of people but you’ll also make a statement and place for yourself in sea of Seattle restaurants. Until the cuisine takes on its bold, original, artistic character I think I’ll continue to drive past on my weekends in downtown.

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UPDATE!

As part of the continuing effort to keep Seattle resident’s informed of the good, bad and mediocre meals to be had around town I’ve implemented a new feature of the Robotic Gourmand website. In the upper left-hand corner of the review section for a particular restaurant there will now be an orange ‘UPDATE’ indicating a return visit to a previously review restaurant. By returning to a restaurant I’ll be able to keep everyone up-to-date on how well someplace stacks up over time. With that said, on to the first update.

I had been in the mood to go back to La Carta de Oaxaca for dinner for a while. I almost made it back on Thursday for lunch, as I was at home awaiting furniture to be delivered. But that plan dried up quickly and so I had to wait a bit longer, but only until dinner the next day. Compared to the line at the door when I arrived on a Saturday, for my first visit, the wait was minimal as there were only 3 people ahead of me. Note to all - go early during the week to be able to grab a spot by the window or at the bar overlooking the kitchen.

Inside, the decor was much as I remembered it; large communal table taking up substantial real estate on the dining room floor, pickle finish table tops and black & white photos covering one wall with a color shot dotted here and there for accent.

This visit I kept my order small with only two items off the menu, first were Tacos Al Pastor ($5.00). They arrived two to the plate with a white corn tortilla jacket that reminded me more of a flour tortilla than corn, but this is not a negative. Pillow-y and soft each tortilla held about four mouthfuls of tender slow cooked pork that was dressed in a slightly spicy red sauce. The spice was tempered by hints of nutmeg and sweetness but lingering around for a kick to the palate was a spicy-hot, green tomatillo sauce. With each bite of taco I was bitten right back. The heat danced on the tip of my tongue and at the corners of my mouth sending me reaching for a pull off of my bottle of cerveza. Punctuating these flavors was that of waxy, soapy cilantro. I remember my mother growing cilantro when I was a kid and my hating it. But over the years I have come to appreciate the flavor it brings to certain dishes and it was a great topping, along with fresh diced onion, to the top of these tacos.

As I polished off the last taco I was presented with a plate of Tostadas ($6.00). Like night and day the tostadas couldn’t be more different from tacos al pastor. The corn tortillas were golden in color and this time fried instead of fresh, soft and pliable. Just picking one up was tricky as too much pressure would snap these delicate corn platforms in two. Atop the tortilla was a thin layer of mild black beans that anchored the slow roasted, shredded beef. A play on subtlety the beef was tender, mild and flecked with well cooked onion and tomato. It had a good meaty flavor and was juicy but was not bold in its presentation. Topping this off were drizzles of an avocado and sour cream wearing little domed hats of shredded romaine lettuce. As gingerly as I could I lifted each delicate round to my mouth and devoured them completely.

While some may balk at the price of such small bites (Though these are the portion sizes I’ve experienced during my time in Mexico), I think, based on the quality, that the value for these dishes is there. No, these are not Tex-Mex combo platters that take up half the table but neither do they taste like it. Stop in a try a few of these small entrees or better yet, take a large group of friends, sit at the communal table, and enjoy some drinks and a sampling of all La Carta de Oaxaca has to offer.

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May 18th, 2006

I am skeptical by nature, especially when it comes to restaurants that I’ve heard mixed comments on. Now I know that no restaurant will ever gain a consensus amongst the general public, after all, everyone’s tastes vary. What may be great to me might be simply mediocre to you. As the phrase goes, “Your Mileage May Vary”. And it may be that some rumblings about a particular restaurant have more to do with one person’s personal reaction to a perceived fault. However, something inside me wonders if there isn’t something to a negative comment. Should I put forth time and effort on a potentially horrible meal when there are so many good restaurants still to try? So it has been over the past year with La Carta de Oaxaca. While I’ve heard raves aplenty I’ve also noticed the negative side. So I’d put them on the back burner. Until today that is.

I arrived just before La Carta’s opening time of 5 PM and already a line had formed 15 people deep, this was a good sign. I walked down Ballard Avenue to check out some shops and returned to find the restaurant open and the line moving but with an additional six people ahead of me. Lesson learned, when you see the line, get in it. A man at the door metered people to various seating locations around the smallish dining area and I was directed to the last available seat at the four-stool counter. Over looking the cramped kitchen area I had a perfect view of one of the women at the tortilla station cranking out the corn tortillas like she was a machine. My server was quick to stop by despite having his hands full with several of my early dining compatriots. With my order placed all that was required of me was to sit back and enjoy the show from the kitchen.

One of the things I picked up from both positive and negative reviews of La Carta de Oaxaca was the size of the dishes and how it was best to order more than one. My first dish was the Entomatadas ($9.00). A thinly sliced, marinated piece of flank steak was grilled before my eyes. When I say thin I mean paper-thin, and it was sliced before cooking so it almost literally jumped onto and off of the grill, cooking it perfectly. Moist and juicy, the marinated seeped into the meat and added a wonderful smoky flavor. Accompanying the beef were supple, homemade corn tortillas that had been sauced with a slightly spicy red sauce. Topped with cheese, thinly sliced onion and crema the tortillas were like delicate little quesadillas in flavor. Add to them a bite of steak and you had a great beefy, creamy bite.

Next up was an order of Molotes ($6.00). Tiny corn dumplings surrounded a filling of smooth, soft potato and chopped beef sausage. The corn coating was deep fried to give them a crisp outer shell. Very mild, the molotes were almost overshadowed by the powerful sauces that they were topped with. One avocado sauce was creamy and rich; the crema sauce was light and slightly tart while the mole sauce was slightly spicy, deep and a little sweet.

Finally I requested an order of Pozole ($7.00). More of a soup than a stew it was nevertheless a memorable dish. It was rich and spicy but not in a spicy hot sort of way. I tasted the distinct flavor of chili powder but also cinnamon, clove and was that, chocolate? The broth was very unique and complex; I could have drunk a glass of it by itself. But in the soup were chucks of tender, flavorful pork along with perfectly cooked hominy. While some hominy I’ve eaten has a weird flavor due the processing with lye. This hominy was clean tasting with a mild corn flavor. Almost like a Vietnamese pho the pozole came with a side of cabbage, onion, cilantro and radish to add to my bowl making it into a meal almost on its own.

After a great dinner of one too many dishes I can say that the positive things I’ve heard about La Carta are true. This is one person who is skeptical no longer. While the individual plates are smaller than one would expect the pricing is not too unreasonable and one shouldn’t need more than two or three plates to satisfy their hunger. Remember to go early, get in line and stay there or be prepared for a wait as it gets busy due to their popularity, and rightly so. But don’t take my word for it. Become a former skeptic yourself.

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For a little peek into my review process I want to share with everyone how I go about preparing for a visit to a restaurant. Like many of you, I type in the name of the eatery, look for the place’s website (If they have one), check out the various City Search, AOL and NWSource links and read the reader generated comments. I try to remain as objective as possible, taking in all viewpoints and just getting a general idea of what to expect from my upcoming visit. I like being as prepared as possible. In researching Mike’s Chili Parlor I came across one readers comment of, “as soon as I walked in I wanted to barf”. This struck me hard. I mean, I’ve eaten in some dives where the cleanliness was below fair but I’ve never been anywhere that, immediately upon entering, made me want to be sick. I’d driven by Mike’s, numerous times and, yeah, it’s not Canlis; it is what it is, a bar, but could it really be that much of a hole. As objective as I wanted to be I couldn’t help but be a little nervous as I parked my car and stepped across the street to the little brick building sitting beside the Ballard Bridge.

The corner upon which Mike’s Chili Parlor sits is something of an oasis. I say this because the rest of the block is, literally, missing. Around the sides and back construction is moving at a furious (And sometimes noticeably felt) pace. Mike’s is also an oasis in that it remains true to its roots in that it doesn’t try to be more than a bar that serves chili and sandwiches. Upon crossing the threshold, instead of being greeted by grease, trash and insect laden fly strips as my imagination had led me to believe I’d see, what I saw a near miniscule pub. A bar slash kitchen was placed to the left, a row of booths to the right, pool table and games to the back of the bar and stand-up counter down the middle of the room. I could imagine, back in the days before the indoor smoking prohibition, this space would be chokingly dense with smoke but today, the air was pleasant and cool. I choose a booth seat and almost as quickly as I sat down someone was at my elbow ready to take my drink and dinner order.

With none of Mike’s options being more than $7.50 I decided to take on a couple of selections. The obvious choice of Chili ($3.25/Cup, $4.25/Bowl) was one; the other was from the sandwich side of the menu, Grilled Cheese ($3.75). Not so much Texas chili nor is this chili Cincinnati-style, the “cup of red” you get at Mike’s Chili Parlor is more of an everyman chili. The bowl arrived meaty and slightly soupy with just a hint of a grease ring around the edge. Some people may be turned off by that but it’s a good sign that the ground beef has a good fat content and will not be dry or tough. And it was not, the meat had been slow-cooked long enough to turn it into fine particles that mixed with the somewhat sweet, slightly spicy broth and the low ratio of beans. To many from Texas the addition of beans is sacrilege but to those of us outside of the Longhorn state beans add a welcome counterpoint a bowl of spiced meat. The kidney beans in this bowl were nicely cooked with a bit of resistance to the tooth while at the same time being nicely tender. Mike’s chili comes with a few options, all of which I added to my bowl. Much like the minced meat the options come finely processed as well. The cheese has a fine grate that allows it to melt homogenously with the chili, tempering the spice and thickening it slightly. The onions give the bowl a fresh vegetal crunch while the jalapenos, with their pickled brininess, gave an added punch of piquant-ness and an interesting pucker from the pickling juice. While not made with exotic cave-aged Gruyere cheese but instead stuffed with several slices of, what I imagine was Kraft processed cheese, the sandwich was none-the-less fulfilling. The bread was grilled a beautiful shade of deep brown and was extra crispy on the edges, the slight greasiness from the butter giving me something to lick from my fingers once I’d eaten my way through the two halves.

So it turns out that, while not haute cuisine (obviously), Mike’s is not the nausea inducing spot that someone led me believe it was. What it is in fact is a long-time blue-collar BAR that happens to serve a mean bowl of chili. There are no frills, aside from each table having its own bottle of Tabasco ™ sauce, no fancy decor and no credit card machines (Though they do have an ATM - take cash). So Seattle, as the skies turn dark and the air fills with raindrops this Fall, take the time to stop into Mike’s for a belly warming bowl of everyman chili.

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