It's a well known fact to friends of Nakedjen (that would be me) that I am somewhat picky about the food that I eat. Actually, the term somewhat is rather relative because to ME I am somewhat picky about what I eat. To everyone else, I am nearly impossible about what I eat. Going out to eat with me is always a challenge because there never seems to be anything on the menu that I actually want and if there is something I want, I want to change it. Meaning that instead of the creamed spinach that comes with the entree, I'll beg them to give me the garlic mashed potatoes that come with that other entree instead. Or instead of the any of the entrees, I'll ask them to just bring me a plate of all the side vegetables that are being served that night. Or to make me their eggs benedict without the eggs, without the ham, but add some sliced tomatoes and spinach on the muffins and, oh yes, keep the hollandaise sauce.
I make the waiters and waitresses of this world crazy. But...I do tip them veryveryvery well for all the trouble.
Now, in addition to all of this, I'm also always in search of the perfect bruschetta. Why it is so difficult for otherwise decent Italian restaurants to manage making a classic bruschetta is something that still stymies me. Poor DearSweetDave has been my companion more times than he probably cares to remember as I've ordered the bruschetta in hopes that it would fulfill my fantasies only to have something less than edible appear. And then he's listened as I've whined and moaned and carried on and threatened to go back in the kitchen and teach the chef how to make a proper bruschetta because I really do think it is a crime against humanity when you have bruschetta on your menu and then you just butcher it.
Yesterday afternoon was a glorious sunny afternoon in Santa Cruz. A picture perfect day. The kinds of days were supposed to have EVERY SINGLE DAY, but have not had very often at all, lately. We've been socked in gray and dismal weather for what feels like an eternity and I don't know who did something wrong to piss off the weather goddess, but when I find out, I will certainly be giving them an ear full of Nakedjen pissoffedness.
With the sun shining and the weather so warm we could wear t-shirts and sandals, DearSweetDave suggested we go to Felton and try out a restaurant he'd been wanting to try for what felt like an eternity. It even had outside seating. We could eat and enjoy the day! A perfect combination.
So we drove to Felton (which isn't very far, but far enough that we drove) and found La Bruschetta tucked under the redwoods just below Henry Cowell Park. There were loads of picnic tables outside and we were encouraged to just choose the one we wanted. We chose one that was half sunny and half shady. Fresh foccacia bread and garlic infused olive oil as well as kalamata olives instantly appeared. I liked this place already!
Our waiter was more than helpful. He started rattling off all the specials and then when he learned that it was our first visit he also told us about he "secret" menu that included dishes the kitchen could make but that you'd never know about unless you were a regular. The restaurant also boasted it's own bruschetta menu with about seven different kinds of bruschetta.
I won't lie. They all sounded rather yummy and tempting. But I am a classic bruschetta girl. A girl who wants her bruschetta on toast rubbed just so with the freshest olive oil and garlic cloves, topped with chopped organic tomatoes, basil and more garlic and a drizzle of, yes, more olive oil. The bread needs to be warm. The tomatoes perfectly ripe.
It's a tall order, especially on the final day of April. And I was willing to be forgiving about the quality of the tomatoes, but I had to order the bruschetta and find out if these folks might just possibly know what they're doing.
I told our waiter I was a bruschetta snob. That I had to give it a whirl. And then DearSweetDave and I ordered the special roasted beet salad, the baked gnocchi and the talpia all to share. We were having a feast!
I knew the moment that the bruschetta arrived that I was not going to be disappointed. It was picture perfect. But even more importantly? It tasted even better than it looked. The tomatoes and basil and garlic were combined exquisitely. There were just the right amounts of each one so that no one flavor dominated the others. What you got with each bite was a quick trip to Italy. La Dolce Vita in your mouth. Total and complete heaven.
Even DearSweetDave noticed that they had rubbed the bread just right with the garlic. It was warm, it was toasted just so, did I mention that it was heaven?
I was so happy I wanted to go in and KISS the chef. And order another round. Oh the sweet goodness of those tomatoes. Where on earth had they found them? Perfection.
The rest of the meal did not disappoint either. Every course was just as good as the one before. The restaurant prides itself on using all organic ingredients where possible and you all know this made Nakedjen's mouth and stomach a happy mouth and stomach, indeed.
I was so glad that DearSweetDave had suggested we try this restaurant. We're definitely going back. We realized we don't often drive to restaurants anymore because we live downtown. So we walk. We eat at the places within walking distance. But that bruschetta will definitely have me driving to Felton for more.
A CALL TO MY FAITHFUL READERS FOR A BIG ASS FAVOR!!!
Did any of you, any one of you, happen to Tivo or tape West Wing last night (4/30)? DearSweetDave and I would like to see the episode. If you did and you'd like to send me a tape, I'd be evereverever so grateful. My mailing address is: Nakedjen P.O. Box 1198 Santa Cruz, CA 95061 I can send $$ for postage and handling and the tape or DVD, if you'd like. Just let me know.
