Geer Street Garden is a gastropub located just outside of the downtown loop in Durham. It opened last year in the former Fletcher’s Gulf Station, at the corner of Foster and Geer Streets. We stopped by once in those early months after it opened, but by early 2012 we were due to give it another try.
On one of those gorgeous 80-degree days we had in February (February!) we stopped by for a weekend lunch on the porch. I know that by now (mid-April) we’ve all been reveling in the warm weather for weeks; we’re past the honeymoon stage. But that weekend the world was still for the most part wintry (notice: no leaves on the trees yet) and we were beyond lucky to be sitting outside on the porch having an afternoon beer in Durham. Man, I love this place.
Geer Street Garden was clearly excited about the gorgeous weather too: All the doors and windows were open.
We chose a picnic table and perused the menu for a few minutes. Geer Street features a lot of local and seasonal ingredients on their menu—especially local beef, pork, and cheeses. And of course beers!
I’m not really a midday drinker myself, but Mr. Food Snob doesn’t mind. He ordered a beer all by himself. Unfortunately at this point in the game he hasn’t the foggiest clue which one it was. Apologies.
We had the Tamale Plate with black beans, pico de Gallo, and crema. It consisted of two tamales swimming in an ocean of black beans. TWO tamales would’ve done me just fine, but it isn’t really an adequate Mr. Food Snob portion; he could’ve eaten twice that. BUT, he rides his bicycle 150 miles a week and therefore doesn’t eat like a normal human. The salsa had a little spice to it and the overall flavor was excellent.
We also ordered a Roasted Veggie Baguette with a side of fries. Normally I’d opt for the salad on the side, but I guess the unseasonably warm weather had me feeling rebellious. The sandwich came with roasted zucchini and red pepper, grilled onions, arugula, olive tapenade, and goat cheese. Even that boatload of toppings wasn’t enough to balance out the thick, dry bread, though. The overall flavor could’ve been stronger—probably with more tapenade or just better-distributed ingredients.
The fries, too, were nothing to write home about. I’ve bet too often on the mistaken notion that when I go to a pub or bar the fries should be great. Fries, in my mind, are bar food, and bars should at least be good at bar food. This principle does not always hold though. Many, many bar fries are very, very mediocre. Fries are something I eat maybe two to three times a year, and when I do, I want them to be good. Where can a food snob find good fries in Durham?
I will say that the Geer Street fries somehow mysteriously vanished from my plate. But in the end I wished I would’ve just ordered the salad.
And, now, a little pickle rant: I have never figured out why it’s so hard for sandwich shops to put out good pickles. I buy pickles at home, and they stay happy in their pickle juice until I consume them, and they’re fresh and crisp and juicy and delicious. But every damn time I get a complimentary pickle next to my sandwich in a restaurant, the thing is a half-dried-up, rubbery, discolored mess. All I can say is What the?
So Geer Street Garden’s food isn’t out of this world. It didn’t change us forever, and it doesn’t beckon us back. But we had a lovely experience sitting out on the patio full of happy Durhamites on a Saturday afternoon—kids, adults, hipsters, dogs, and even food snobs.
Blue Coffee Cafe has been in Durham longer than we have, which makes it feel like an “old Durham” restaurant. (In fact we’d stopped in for coffee on a similarly rainy winter morning in 2009 when we were house hunting.) According to its website, though, it has been serving Durham for “over five years”—much less time than we expected. We were curious about the back story, but couldn’t find much information on the cafe’s website or Facebook page. Perhaps it has been around longer, but changed ownership some time in the last decade?
The restaurant’s blue walls are proudly littered with framed photos of Barack Obama’s visit to the restaurant (in 2008 when he was campaigning, I believe). A coffee bar and pastry case surround the central cash register and ordering window. The shrink-wrapped baked goods are likely not made in house.
Blue Coffee has the feel of an old small-town diner. The menu items are standard, ingredients very basic, and preparation much like any ordinary person could do at home. In my hometown, in fact, this was about the best you could do for a breakfast out.
Blue Coffee’s well-advertised (on huge signs in several windows) $3.99 breakfast specials are evidently a top-selling menu choice. Unfortunately, as we’ll detail below, no creativity, originality, flavor, or attention seems to have gone into the food itself. And beginning with subpar ingredients certainly doesn’t help the situation. We were underwhelmed in all ways by our breakfast experience at Blue Coffee Cafe.
The cafe has two separate dining areas, one consisting of small tables and chairs, and the other a more cozy seating area in back with a sofa and lounge chairs. This gives the restaurant plenty of space, but on the day we visited it was desolate even at prime weekend breakfast time on a Saturday morning.
We ordered from the advertised specials and watched our OJ being poured directly from the Tropicana Pure Premium gallon jug. Not-from-concentrate orange juice: the one element of our dining experience at Blue Coffee that actually exceeded our expectations. Even at higher-end cafes and breakfast spots in town, we’re often stuck with the made-from-concentrate crap. So at least we got real juice!
The sausage gravy and biscuits were … okay. The one giant clump of scrambled egg was completely unseasoned—a problem that reappeared on our second plate, as you’ll see below. The sausage gravy seemed authentic enough and tasted pretty good, but the biscuits didn’t live up to Southern biscuit standards we’ve come to expect in this region. They were very soft but tasted somewhat doughy and didn’t have the usual richness of scratch-made biscuits.
The plating of this dish isn’t very pretty—but how could anything be, on Styrofoam?
The “Big Breakfast” $3.99 special included bacon, scrambled eggs, grits, and toast.
Instead of one long rant about everything that was wrong about this breakfast, I’ve decided to offer some helpful tips on how to make it better:
Season the eggs: salt and pepper would be nice. Because food needs flavor.
Same goes for the grits. Aren’t Southern grits supposed to be loaded up with fat and flavor—cream and/or cheese and/or herbs? These grits were literally just corn grits and water, not even a touch of salt.
Use real bread: there are plenty of great bakeries in town that I’m sure would love to supply some fresh bread. The “wheat” version of Wonder bread just doesn’t do it for me. I can’t stomach preservatives first thing in the morning.
Offer real butter for the toast for those of us who cringe at the mere scent of Country Crock.
And while we’re on the real kick, how about real jam rather than the same “mixed fruit jelly” they’ve been serving for seventy-eight years at “family restaurant” chains?
The bacon was fine; but bacon is hard to screw up. I’ll leave it at that.
As you can see from the photos, everything we ordered at Blue Coffee was served in/on disposable dishware: Styrofoam plates, plastic cups and silverware, and paper napkins. Even our salt and pepper came in little paper packets, and all the condiments were individually wrapped and disposable. We don’t even use paper towels or paper napkins at home (call us tree huggers), so it’s a little disheartening when the two of us create half a bag full of trash from one little breakfast.
Sigh.
Blue Coffee’s downtown location is great, but its food, atmosphere, and service all leave something to be desired. Even the bull thinks so.
Scratch opened its storefront in downtown Durham in 2010 after years of serving pies at the Durham Farmer’s Market. Most Durhamites already know the story of Scratch, since it has practically been broadcast from the rooftops. In the course of just a few years, it has received impressive attention from the local (1, 2) and national press (1, 2, 3), including a feature video on the Cooking Channel and several mentions in Bon Appetit magazine (1, 2, 3). Indeed, Scratch is a beloved bakery-cafe in downtown Durham.
Pie in itself is endearing, but Scratch adds to it a hearty dose of local, seasonal ingredients, Southern tradition, and fresh-baked from (of course!) scratch original creations. It clearly recognizes (and, let’s hope, embodies) the trending terms of current foodie lingo: Simple. Real. Local. Seasonal. Fresh. Artisan.
But forget all that pretense. How about a report of a real hands-on experience at the shop? We recently visited Scratch on a cold but bright winter Saturday morning and snagged a few treats to bring home and sample for breakfast.
Scratch’s menu rotates regularly; it features seasonal ingredients and is developed according to what’s available locally at the time. It’s a great place to get inspiration for your own use of local produce—especially in the winter months when the options are a bit slim.
Not surprisingly, Scratch’s menu is baked goods-heavy; but their breakfast and lunch options usually include some protein and local produce as well.
I’ve dined at Scratch several times since it opened, so I’ve seen a fair sampling of these seasonal menus. There’s always some Southern-inspired comfort food, as well as something vegetarian, and usually a couple of pretty original dishes. I can appreciate the effort to keep the menu simple, but, oddly, many of the menu items don’t quite form a complete breakfast or lunch, and Scratch doesn’t offer any side dishes or a la carte items to complete a breakfast. So, for example, Mr. Food Snob (ALWAYS) wants a sausage biscuit. But one sausage biscuit doesn’t cut it for a man who rides his bike approximately 150-200 miles a week. And three sausage biscuits—well, that makes for a rather colorless and imbalanced breakfast. Why can’t he add some scrambled eggs, fruit, vegetables, something to make it a balanced meal? This shortage of options and the awkward loneliness of certain menu items is an ongoing problem.
The lonely baked goods wouldn’t be unusual if this was just a bakery; but it’s a place where people can come and sit down for a meal…and the options Scratch gives us can sometimes be a bit, well, awkward.
If you do just want to pick up some pastries or baked goods, though, Scratch certainly has you covered. Someday I intend to sit down and eat an entire one of those chocolate crostadas; I’ve had my eye on them since the storefront opened and somehow still have not landed at Scratch at the right time of day. Maybe tomorrow…
Being an amateur home baker myself (a persnickety one!) I was excited to see that Scratch uses King Arthur Flour. So I thought I’d go ahead and point it out to anyone who might care.
Now, for the food we tasted…
The chestnut coffee cake was my favorite item of the day. Scratch has the basic breakfast cake down to a science, and throughout the year they feature seasonal flavors in the basic cake. At the peak of last summer I had one with blackberries, and it was a genuine delight—pillowy soft, sweet cake with a punch of tangy blackberry every few bites. The chestnut cake had a bit of warm spice, a bit of crunch, and was equally as good as the summer cake I so fondly remembered.
Mr. Food Snob is a biscuit fiend. Have I mentioned how much the man loves carbs? Well, biscuits might just be his ultimate carb, and he’s been downright obsessed with them since the moment we landed in the South. Having tasted a lot of biscuits since then, he says Scratch’s biscuits could use a few tweaks if they want to make it to the top of his list. The biscuits at Scratch do have a rich flavor and are soft on the inside, but they’re a bit overdone/crunchy on the outside (note the dark spots on the one in this pic—okay on a cake or a loaf of bread, but too much caramelization for biscuitdom). The country sausage is tasty and had an unobtrusive non-grisly texture (as it should be).
Okay, now, doughnut muffins.
Doughnut muffins are a staple and much-hyped (see the video) item at Scratch; they always seem to be available in abundance at the shop and the farmer’s market. What on earth is the appeal of these things, though? The extra coating of sugar on the outside just dulls the flavor of the muffin itself. This one was supposed to be chocolate but didn’t taste anything like real chocolate. All I got was sugar, sugar, sugar. There was no depth, no richness; even the texture was unexciting. This was at least the third time I’ve tried one, thinking that all my previous experiences must’ve been duds since everyone is downright obsessed with the things. Nope, still don’t get it.
Please don’t ask me to explain the apparent sesame seed in the middle of the one in the photo; I have no clue where the H that came from.
For our savory contribution to brunch, we tried the winter vegetables and dumplings, which consisted of turnips, chard, sweet potatoes, chives, and homemade dumplings in a light vegetable broth. The overall flavor was subtle and inviting, and it would’ve been great dish, had the vegetables not been a bit hard and undercooked. We got what might’ve been the first bowl of the day (we arrived just when they opened), and evidently the veg hadn’t had time to fully cook yet. This dish, in fact, provides a pretty good representation of our general experience of Scratch—it was a smart, original idea, but a slightly-less-than-stellar execution.
We haven’t found Scratch to be entirely consistent or reliable, but the few dishes we’ve loved, we’ve REALLY loved. So we’ll likely return and keep testing out the waters. How about you? Stop in and try out Scratch, and let us know how you think it measures up.
The longer I live in North Carolina, the more addicted I become to warm weather and the more impatient I am with anything resembling winter. I grew up in northwestern Pennsylvania, where the winters go on seemingly FOREVER—long past the point of enjoyment and well into the phase of despair. It’s dark and cold and miserable for the better part of six months up there, and cabin fever and winter blues are the norm for everyone.
I called the Piedmont region “vacationland” for the first two years I lived here because I couldn’t get over the gloriously sunny 65-degree days in the middle of January. I laughed when we got the occasional inch of snow and the whole city shut down. I ditched my heavy winter coat and mittens and began to wonder how I lived so many years of my life in the darkness and life-draining cold. I open all the windows as soon as it hits the upper 60s again in February, and maybe everyone here thinks I’m a little nuts, but they don’t understand where I come from. Winter here is different. It gives you little glimmers of hope all the time.
In North Carolina winter, the leaves do fall off of the trees and the earth does quiet down in dull browns and greys. But the bright sun and blue sky keep appearing. Winter here is a perfectly fine time for, say, taking puppies on their first hike in Duke Forest. Here’s a snapshot of a typical winter day in Durham:
I’ve been in North Carolina long enough now that the glamor has worn off a bit. I don’t always romanticize it so. Winter is winter, after all. It’s a period of shorter daylight and longer darkness, of damp ground and cold feet and hands. But it’s also the time for soup and hot chocolate and curries and fresh-out-of-the-oven cookies—and by these comforts I usually survive and am grateful. And if I get a little frustrated with winter, I can break all the rules and celebrate summer food—like this roasted cherry tomato pizza (albeit with sad, packaged, trucked-in basil).
I started making this pizza late last summer, when tomatoes were still in season in Durham. It quickly became our favorite new pizza in 2011, and I’ve continued making it right through the fall and winter. Even when tomato season passed, I could still pluck a few sad basil leaves from my herb garden and serve the pizza with a salad of fresh greens from my CSA box.
If you have a little case of the winter blues this year, or if you’re longing for a taste of summer, or even if you just love pizza, give this one a try.
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Roasted Cherry Tomato Pizza
1 pizza dough of your choice (a thin crust is best; I’m partial to the recipes in Peter Reinhart’s American Pie but you can use a store-bought dough or your normal recipe)
1 pint of cherry or grape tomatoes*
a few Tbsp olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 Tbsp Par mesan cheese, grated
8 ounces of part-skim mozzarella cheese* shredded
4-6 fresh basil leaves*
Follow the recipe instructions for your dough.
To roast the cherry tomatoes: preheat oven to 450F. Or, if you’re already heating your stone at 500F, just lower the temperature for a few minutes to roast the tomatoes. Spread tomatoes on a baking sheet and drizzle with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast for 10-12 minutes, or until they burst. Remove carefully (sometimes there’s a little smoke) and set aside.
To assemble the pizza: Roll out the dough and drizzle a little olive oil over the surface; brush to even out. Sprinkle the dough with Parmesan cheese. Then cover with the shredded mozzarella and the roasted tomatoes. Season the top with salt and pepper.
Bake on a preheated pizza stone (preferably for at least 45 min) or a pizza pan at 500F for 8-10 minutes, or until cheese is melted and bubbly. Remove from the oven and let cool for a few minutes, then sprinkle with the fresh basil, slice, and serve.
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*Indicates local availability, in the correct season of course.
Saladelia Cafe has over twenty years of experience serving the Durham area. This cafe and catering company now has five Durham locations, and if you’re out much, you’ve probably seen their catering trucks all over town too. We strolled in on a Saturday night for a quick bite on our way to the movies and got lucky enough to catch a local jazz band while we enjoyed a light dinner.
The University Drive location—which I’ve always understood to be Saladelia’s main branch—is in a rather unimpressive plaza near South Square. The atmosphere inside leaves something to be desired, but we give them bonus points for featuring local artwork on their white walls. In fact, Saladelia has a lot going for them in the ethics department:
they are locally owned and operated
they support local farmers (but which ones? what foods?) and buy organic when possible
they use wild-caught seafood, free-range eggs, and hormone- and antibiotic-free beef
their desserts and pastries are made with locally milled flour (from where?)
they recycle, use paper products made from recycled content, and have recycling bins available at the busing station in the cafe
they use biodegradable plastic cups and flatware
If I were them I’d probably be bragging about this all over my website, twitter feed, etc. (rather than just posting it on a tiny sign in the restaurant). (But then again, I belong to what must be the most narcissistic and self-promoting generation on record.)
Food ethics and sustainability matter, and it appears that Saladelia was doing these things right long before it was cool, popular, or expected of every responsible restaurant owner. Apparently since these principles have been a part of the company since its inception, they don’t feel a need to get on their high horse about it. Which is just kinda neat!
Now on to the food.
Saladelia emphasizes Mediterranean cuisine, but they have a little bit of everything in the cafe—salads, deli sandwiches, homemade soups, hot dinner entrees, a pastry and coffee bar, smoothies, and a dessert case. They feature daily lunch and dinner specials in addition to their regular menu (if you’re curious about today’s, check their twitter feed).
Pictured here is HALF of the menu. On the other side are more of the dinner items, tapas, and breakfast/brunch selections. There’s plenty to choose from, and most of it is simple, familiar, Mediterranean-inspired food.
If you’ve been following the FSD blog, you know by now that I’m a salad fiend. I eat a fresh salad for lunch almost every day, and sometimes (especially after, say, weeks of heavy holiday eating) I want one for dinner too. I ordered a Greek salad at Saladelia and figured I couldn’t go wrong since (a) “Salad” is in the restaurant’s name and (b) Mediterranean is their specialty. I rounded it out with some pitas and hummus.
I’ll be darned if the salad wasn’t great! Everything was fresh and crisp and colorful; and since the cooks made the salad to order, it wasn’t sitting in a refrigerated case for half the day (thank you). It had typical Greek-salad elements: lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes, pickled jalepeno, kalamata olives, red onion (pickled in this case), and feta, but with the addition of shredded carrots, green peppers, and chickpeas (bonus: protein!). My “pita points” were toasted utterly to death—like, I was worried I might crack my teeth on them—BUT, luckily, I had soft, warm pitas on the side. Other than that one little problem, I devoured everything on my plate.
Saladelia renewed my faith that a Greek salad really can be a wonderful thing.
The evening’s dinner special was a grilled chicken breast served on ratatouille.
I felt great pride upon realizing that Mr. Food Snob has become the kind of person who chooses ratatouille enthusiastically. When we first met, he was cautious about his vegetable intake (conditioned thus by parents and society at large), but he has now become an adventurous eater who’s willing to try anything and loves nearly everything. Score!
He was happy with his grilled chicken breast and colorful ratatouille at Saladelia, as well as the fresh hummus and warm pita he’d ordered on the side. The ratatouille special had been sitting under a heat lamp for a while, so the veggies were, not surprisingly, basically one mashed stew—no one bite different from another—but the flavor was good and the chicken was properly cooked (i.e. not dried out into chewy hunk of tough rubber).
Since it was a Saturday night, we also had the pleasure of hearing a local jazz combo while we ate. I don’t know the band’s name, but by playing familiar standards they gave Saladelia’s somewhat awkward dining space a relaxing vibe. It was an unexpected surprise that made the space warm and inviting—and went a long way toward lifting my spirits.
We opted for a plain ol’ chocolate chip cookie on our way out the door (top left in the photo). It was a bit difficult to chew and had obviously been sitting in the case for some time, but it hit the sweet spot and we were on our way.
All said and done, I was pleasantly surprised by Saladelia. I suppose I’ve become a bit jaded by its conspicuous presence in Durham and therefore didn’t expect a lot going into it. On top of that, I was in a grumpy mood after having a lousy day, which should’ve made me more likely to whine about the food. But hey—Saladelia turned my day around. The meal wasn’t life-changing, but there wasn’t really anything wrong with it either, and that’s about the best I can ask for. So there’s the power of a simple, everyday dinner done right. And that’s enough for me today.
After a couple weeks of slacking at the end of 2011, we’re back with new restaurant reviews and recipes for 2012 on FoodSnobDurham.com. But first, we’ll cover a restaurant we visited at the end of last year.
The Blue Note Grill on Chapel-Hill Durham Boulevard opened in 2011—a blues cafe that dishes up dinner and live music six nights a week, as well as lunch Monday through Friday. We decided to check out the Blue Note Grill for its regular Monday night jazz jam a few weeks ago.
Blue Note Grill has an eclectic regular menu consisting of burgers and sandwiches, barbecue, burritos/quesadillas, and typical bar appetizers. They also have weekly specials.
I could probably start out with some words of encouragement and hope, but the best way to sum it up is this: the food at Blue Note Grill was pretty terrible. The ingredients were obviously of inferior quality—from the bland, industrial tomatoes, to the flavorless iceberg lettuce, to the cheap, white, preservative-loaded buns. I didn’t have high expectations for the food, but one can always hope for a surprise!
It was already late for dinner when we arrived, and we were starving, so we appetized on some sweet potato fries. The fries, served with sweetened cinnamon butter, actually weren’t bad, but sweet potato fries are kind of hard to mess up. I personally am not usually prone to adding any kind of sweetness to sweet potatoes (I have never understood those sweet-potato casseroles covered in marshmallows and maple syrup and brown sugar. Why, why, why?), but Mr. Food Snob and I agreed: this wasn’t a bad pairing, and each of us could dip to our own preference.
So there: I did say something a less-than-entirely critical.
Round two: entrees. The burgers at Blue Note are made from 100% beef brisket, ground in-house daily. Freshly ground beef is usually a good sign, but the burger at Blue Note Grill, unfortunately, was the driest we’ve ever had. Really, EVER. And trust me, my mother had a special talent for turning a perfectly good piece of meat into a hockey puck. Blue Note’s burger beat mom’s record by a landslide. It was a dry, flavorless brick of meat. Mr. Food Snob didn’t even finish it, and that never happens.
We had heard from Carpe Durham that the onion rings were decent, so Mr. Food Snob did swap them out for regular fries with his burger. And like the sweet potato fries, the onion rings weren’t too bad. They were sliced thick and had a good salty, crunchy coating. We were learning fast: stick with the simple fried foods that are hard to screw up. But who wants to eat that exclusively?
The quesadilla we ordered was one of Blue Note Grill’s several vegetarian options. It was a black bean quesadilla that came with shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes, and guacamole on top, as well as a mild salsa on the side. Inside it was loaded with black beans, grilled onions, and a “three-cheese mix.” The makings of a good quesadilla seemed to be there, but the finished product lacked flavor and interest across the board.
Despite being unimpressed with our food at Blue Note Grill, we thoroughly enjoyed the jazz combo and decided that if we ever returned we’d come just for the music, appetizers (yeah, the fried ones), and beer. Unfortunately (for BNG, but not for us), in the glorious city of Durham there are many great venues that can offer the complete package, and when we go out, I guess we just want it all. To survive in the thriving restaurant culture of Durham, Blue Note is going to have to raise the bar on their food.
We receive a variety of wonderful lettuces and greens throughout the year in our CSA box. A rich array of fresh, tender leafy greens are available in central North Carolina in spring and fall: numerous lettuces, arugula, swiss chard, spinach, and the like. In the winter, we have hardier varieties as well: kale, mustard and turnip greens, collards, bok choy, and cabbages.
Eating seasonally in the South has introduced me to greens I had never been exposed to growing up. I now have favorite recipes for chard and arugula and several varieties of kale. I eat tons and tons of greens in three out four seasons since they appear so abundantly at the farmer’s market and in our CSA box. What a great step forward for my health! I remember when just the phrase “leafy greens” terrified me!
Due to this proliferation of greens, I’ve been experimenting with dinner salads for the last several weeks. I love having salad for dinner because (a) I love salad, (b) I feel healthier when I eat things that are mostly fresh and raw, and (c) lighter dinners leave room for bigger desserts. And, mind you, point (c) does not undermine point (b)—No! Because I would likely be having dessert either way. But with salad for dinner, dessert feels more in balance.
This salad recipe features local lettuces, as well as local eggs and bacon. I used a baby lettuces mix and some red-leaf lettuce from last week’s box. It would work well with almost any tender lettuce or mix of greens. This salad is also perfect for fall because these items are in season and readily available in Durham. Pears, though not generally available locally, are also in season in autumn and are featured in the recipe. The salad is satisfying as a complete dinner. I suggest serving it with French wine, and while you’re at it, have a French dessert as well (see point [c] above).
Note: I’ve adjusted this to make two dinner-sized portions. It would probably serve four as a side salad, and of course could be multiplied, with one egg and one slice of toast for each plate.
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French Bistro Dinner Salad
recipe adapted from Cooking Light
Ingredients:
2 tablespoons finely chopped walnuts
2 large eggs*
2 bacon slices*
6-8 cups gourmet salad greens*
2-3 Tbsp crumbled blue cheese
1 ripe Bartlett pear, cored and thinly sliced
4 (1-inch-thick) slices French bread baguette, toasted*
Dressing:
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon extravirgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon dried tarragon
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
salt and freshly ground black pepper
Toast nuts in a toaster oven or small skillet until lightly browned. Remove onto a plate or cutting board and set aside.
Wipe out skillet, and then cook bacon over medium-high heat until crisp on both sides. Remove from the pan, cool, and crumble. Reserving 1/2 teaspoon drippings for salad dressing.
Poach eggs. Good stovetop instructions can be found here (my preference). If you want to wimp out and don’t mind a bit of radiation in your food, you can microwave them. Drain and allow to cool slightly.
Combine walnuts, bacon, greens, blue cheese, and pear in a large bowl.
Whisk together 1/2 teaspoon reserved drippings, vinegar, oil, tarragon, and mustard in small bowl. Drizzle over greens mixture; toss gently.
Divide salad mixture between two large plates; top each serving with a slice of toasted baguette and poached egg.
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*Indicates local availability. All recipes posted on Food Snob Durham feature local ingredients from Durham, North Carolina. You can find fresh, seasonal produce as well as eggs, cheese, meats, and more at the Durham Farmer’s Market.
Rue Cler has been serving French food in downtown Durham since 2006. It is a self-proclaimed “Parisian-style restaurant, bakery, and cafe” and undeniably a downtown favorite.
Along with Pop’s Restaurant (see our recent, not-really-critical review here) and Pop’s Backdoor South (read our pizza lament here), Rue Cler is a member of the Durham Restaurant Group.
Rue Cler typically features a Prix Fixe menu (that changes weekly) for dinner. Patrons may choose one item from each of three courses.
The waiter started us off with fresh bread from the Rue Cler bakery.
Next came French Onion Soup. It may be cliche, but Mr. Food Snob and I both love it, and we happened to be in the mood. Besides, we wanted to see how Rue Cler’s soupe a l’oignon stood up to our favorite recipe. It had a massive amount of bread—two layers—but the flavor was rich and creamy and everything you want onion soup to be.
We loved the shrimp crepe too. Its flavors were light even though its sauce was heavy. A little bearnaise can’t hurt anything. Just like Paula Deen says, “everything’s better with butter.”
The evening’s green salad featured shaved radishes, seasonal greens, and sunflower seeds. The salad dressing, unfortunately, didn’t stand up to the bitterness of the lettuces, and in the end the only taste left in my mouth was bitterness. I like a little bitter, but there’s a line.
Mr. Food Snob ordered Steak Frites off of the regular a la carte menu. While the fries were cooked well, they lacked flavor, and the steak itself was very average. Nothing about it stood out as original or different in any way. The steak was cooked properly, but seemed like a cheap piece of meat nonetheless. The simple dip helped the fries but still barely set them apart from fries that cost much less almost anywhere else.
Our other main course was a slow-cooked short rib with zucchini and mashed potatoes—a simple and classic dish. The short rib was cooked perfectly, with a buttery-smooth texture and a brothy richness from what I imagine was a day-long cooking process. It’s very rare that I order red meat or even cook it, for that matter. For whatever reason, it was the most appealing dish on the menu that night, and boy am I glad I chose it. It far surpassed Mr. Food Snob’s steak. Lucky for him, I like to share.
Our seasonal crepe featured apples, caramel, and vanilla gelato. It was tasty but verging on overly sweet. Nothing special, really.
We love Rue Cler for brunch and can actually come out, in that case, without breaking our budget. But dinner for two, complete with wine and dessert + tip, ran us about $85-90. Was it that good? Frankly, no. How good does a $90 dinner for two have to be? Pretty damn good, in our book. In fact for $90 we want to be downright blown away. There are a lucky few for whom cost isn’t a huge concern, but we are budget diners looking to get the most exceptional food we can for our buck. Go to Rue Cler for weekend brunch if you want to experience fine French food in Durham without completely emptying your wallet.
Bottom line: Rue Cler’s food is very good, and that’s precisely why it is a staple downtown restaurant in Durham. It has a great reputation too, but that only means we have higher expectations. We enjoyed our meal, but were only really impressed by two of our six dishes. And, in the end, we decided we wouldn’t repeat it, since the cost, for us, didn’t quite line up to the quality, taste, and overall experience.
Pop’s Restaurant is a Durham staple as far as we’re concerned. It is a member of the Durham Restaurant Group (serving Durham since 2001) and its owners are longtime advocates of downtown development. As a trattoria-style Italian eatery, Pop’s offers casual, mostly affordable cuisine rooted in regional and local ingredients. Its primary menu items are Italian-American classics—pasta, pizza, and the like—but it often provides a creative twist by featuring seasonal produce.
I’ve already written about Pop’s Backdoor’s pizza and all the changes we in Foodsnobland experienced when it moved to its current Shannon Road location. Though we haven’t yet found the perfect pizza in Durham, we remain regulars at Pop’s and other DRG restaurants—especially when we have guests in town and need to show off our city’s best offerings. Perhaps we have a little Italian blood in our veins.
Everything we ate during our recent venture to Pop’s on West Main Street was fantastic.
Food snobbery, it seems, doesn’t always have to mean dissatisfaction.
Fresh-baked Ciabatta bread with olive oil was brought to the table straight away by our perhaps overeager but nonetheless kind waitress. Thankfully we weren’t in the mood to be irritated by the fact that, had she no other tables to serve, she might’ve sat down and chatted our ears off all evening.
Pop’s serves a very reliable Caesar salad with Ciabatta croutons and a rich, creamy dressing that I believe they make in-house. I’m a huge Caesar salad fan, always in search of a better one, but I have to say theirs really is quite wonderful.
Stuffed shells were an October seasonal feature. The house-made melt-in-your-mouth sausage had an incredible texture—no grit, no gristle, no chewiness. The shells were drowned in cheesy richness and brought to the table in a hot cast-iron skillet. The whole table fought for the last bite of this one.
The gnocchi with rotisserie chicken, roasted peppers, caramelized onions, and goat cheese was also a huge hit—not surprising given Mr. Food Snob’s current OBSESSION with goat cheese.
We also had a pasta primavera with late-summer vegetables and pesto, but unfortunately didn’t end up with a good photo. It wasn’t the favorite entree of the evening, but the truckload of fresh produce and herbs allowed us one last kick for summer.
And for the grand finale: tiramisu split three ways. The only thing that can really account for the blurry image (apologies) is the quantity of wine consumed by this point in the meal.
I suppose it’s a testament to how much we like Pop’s that we couldn’t come up with anything critical to say about our experience. But hey—isn’t that the goal? At the end of a long week, it’s a (rare!) fine thing to dine well and have no complaints.
