Blacksalt

One note: Blacksalt takes reservations, and tends to be booked. There are six tables in the cafe area that are first come, first served, but on the whole it’s best to just make sure to reserve a table.

Open for only a few weeks, Blacksalt has some kinks to work out — particularly when it comes to service and kitchen timing. But then, when you’re out with good friends in a comfy setting, what’s a two and a half hour meal but time to chat and not worry about the next day?

Part of the problem in timing may have to do with the complexity of the menu. At Blacksalt you can order small plates, like a single shrimp wrapped in serrano ham and served on a sauce of garlic, white grape, and almond... or a small bowl of mussels... or oysters priced individually.. even before you get into the appetizers, stews, and entrees.

So perhaps ordering something from each section of the menu contributed to the delay. Dave had the oysters, and reported that although they were very fresh, they lacked a bit of flavor. I had that single shrimp, which was a perfect way to whet my appetite while sipping one of the many house cocktails and reading the rest of the menu.

The salads we tried were fine, but possibly a bit too precious in presentation. Butter lettuce with toasted walnuts and roasted pear would have been better with crumbled roquefort, rather than creamy roquefort dressing, but it sure looked pretty sitting on the plate.

Dave and Steve both opted for daily specials — one was an organic salmon from Finland (I think), and the other swordfish served with quinoa and some greens. Both were excellent. I ordered zarzuela, a stew of red snapper, prawns, and mussels in a garlicky broth with serrano ham, tomato, and green olive. This dish was wonderful and comforting — and I don’t even like mussels!

If you really want to enjoy your meal, take it easy with the bread and tapenade. Both were excellent, but with the long delays between courses it’s easy to fill up.

Dessert is the weak point here. Dave and Steve both ordered the chocolate cake with molten Grand Marnier centers (which weren’t), and they were fine but nothing special. Other desserts include creme brulee and a key lime bombe with tropical fruits, and some other things that didn’t interest me much.

One of the oddities of this place is the number of choices you’re offered. From cocktails to coffee, nothing is generic. In the latter category, you can have the house drip coffee or French press — with your choice of about six varietal beans, including Jamaican Blue Mountain.

All this attention to choice makes me wonder if the ideal meal here wouldn’t be a long session at the bar. I’d start with the vodka, blackberry juice, and lime martini and a few of those shrimp, nibble my way through the bread basket with that wonderful tapenade, then order a few more small plates and a few more drinks as the evening wears on.

For someone who’s intensely interested in ingredients, not just the whole dish, Blacksalt can be quite entertaining. I can easily imagine, though, that people who just want good food without all the fuss and bother would get annoyed at all the decision making. I was surprised they didn’t offer different types of salt, with their provenances all spelled out. Oh, wait, come to think of it... when you order coffee, you have your choice of like six different types of sugar. No kidding. Demarara, turbinado, muscovado... see what I mean?

I’ll admit to having a well-stocked larder to play with at home. Yep, I’ve been known to choose my sugar based on what varietal of coffee I’m drinking, and I think I’m up to eight different kinds of honey in the cupboard, and at least as many black teas, and I’ve lost count of how many different chocolates are in the pantry waiting their turn to audition for the ultimate dark mousse... but that’s me in my house. Do I really want to pay for a chef to indulge like that? As a diner wouldn’t I be better served to rely on his judgement? ...or would I...? Would I ask the same of Patrick O’Connell or Thomas Keller?

Summary: if you’re a kitchen geek like me you’ll get a kick outta Blacksalt; if not, caveat emptor. Approach cautiously with the right frame of mind and you’ll have a wonderful meal. Just don’t think too hard about it.

Oh, one more thing: Blacksalt is also a fishmonger. A note on the menu invites you to ask the chefs to create a dish for you out of what’s in the display case. So if you just want a great piece of fish simply prepared, all you need do is ask.