Lalime's and a happy coincidence
Two nights ago, I met my dad at Lalime’s in Berkeley. My new food guru Laura had recommended it, and I noticed that it has received fairly stellar reviews across the board. They were featuring a special prix-fixe Lebanese-Armenian menu in honor of their daughter’s departure for the American University of Beirut, so we both decided to give it a whirl.
Three hours later, I was so stuffed that I was unable to shovel in the dessert course, a plate of karabij (four dense little semolina rolls hiding under a generous dollop of rosewater meringue). Lalime’s is a jolly, comfortable spot, with warm yellow walls and friendly staff. Our courses arrived at a leisurely pace, and my favorites were the maani (heavily spiced, tiny lamb sausages) and the refreshing, lemony fatoush salad. The final dish included two deliciously tender strips of chicken striped with a creamy yogurt sauce, lying atop a pile of dolmas. I think I made the waiter a little sad when I couldn’t finish it all, and my dad said he had a hangdog look as he cleared our plates. I just couldn’t do it. The consistently huge meals I have eaten over this past week have forced me to approach dining out as an athlete might approach Olympic training. I have to psyche myself up, locate my personal faith in the power of my own gluttony, and convince myself that my stomach will be able to meet the challenge of accepting obscure ingredients and massive portions. Sometimes I fail.
Coincidentally, my cousin Michel and her husband Stephen were seated at the table next to us. Stephen does the wines for Lalime’s and kindly introduced the owner Haig Krikorian to us, who was extremely sweet and answered our questions about the dishes. We also got to chat with Patricia Unterman, the food critic for the SF Examiner and one of Michel and Stephen’s dining companions. By the time we left, I felt sort of dazzled by the combination of rosewater, Pinot Noir and my first encounter with a real, live food critic (who was wonderfully friendly, by the way, and helpfully answered some of my silly food writing queries). Starstruck, I completely forget how to get back to Marin and ended up driving around Oakland warehouses aimlessly for twenty minutes as I tried to regain the highway.
Three hours later, I was so stuffed that I was unable to shovel in the dessert course, a plate of karabij (four dense little semolina rolls hiding under a generous dollop of rosewater meringue). Lalime’s is a jolly, comfortable spot, with warm yellow walls and friendly staff. Our courses arrived at a leisurely pace, and my favorites were the maani (heavily spiced, tiny lamb sausages) and the refreshing, lemony fatoush salad. The final dish included two deliciously tender strips of chicken striped with a creamy yogurt sauce, lying atop a pile of dolmas. I think I made the waiter a little sad when I couldn’t finish it all, and my dad said he had a hangdog look as he cleared our plates. I just couldn’t do it. The consistently huge meals I have eaten over this past week have forced me to approach dining out as an athlete might approach Olympic training. I have to psyche myself up, locate my personal faith in the power of my own gluttony, and convince myself that my stomach will be able to meet the challenge of accepting obscure ingredients and massive portions. Sometimes I fail.
Coincidentally, my cousin Michel and her husband Stephen were seated at the table next to us. Stephen does the wines for Lalime’s and kindly introduced the owner Haig Krikorian to us, who was extremely sweet and answered our questions about the dishes. We also got to chat with Patricia Unterman, the food critic for the SF Examiner and one of Michel and Stephen’s dining companions. By the time we left, I felt sort of dazzled by the combination of rosewater, Pinot Noir and my first encounter with a real, live food critic (who was wonderfully friendly, by the way, and helpfully answered some of my silly food writing queries). Starstruck, I completely forget how to get back to Marin and ended up driving around Oakland warehouses aimlessly for twenty minutes as I tried to regain the highway.
posted by cindym at 1:16 PM
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