I am frequently accused of favoring particular restaurants and not giving others a chance. And I have to admit, I am guilty. Guilty as charged. There are a few reasons for this; mostly that I work as a server in a dinner-only restaurant, and that limits my dinner dining possibilities to only 2 nights a week, one being a Sunday. There are very few interesting restaurants open on Sundays, and Thursdays are the night for going to my favorite restaurants. There is something in the comfort of a great restaurant. Last Thursday night Husband and I even had reservations somewhere else; we were going to Try Something New. The night in questions, however, was a cold and rainy February day, dark by 6 pm kind of evening and we were both feeling stressed-out and unadventurous. And so we found ourselves wringing ourselves out at the tiny bar in Alana’s. It’s like a hug. You know exactly what to expect. Everyone will wait on us in turn, one of my best friends works here and she will talk to us in between seating guests and fetching coats. Alana will come out with a sliver of scallop on an endive leaf with shaved truffles and a creamy crab salad. Husband will take 15 minutes to look over the wine list, and we’ll finally decide on something sparkling or Alsatian, we’ll each order a salad and an appetizer or two, maybe some soup, etc. etc. We know just how the evening will be. Alana changes her menu so often that it will never be boring. There are just so many reasons to go there when you only have one evening and you don’t want to risk bad service or mediocre food.
In short, the only solution is to force myself to forgo the favorites in the interest of finding out what else is out there. In the meantime, however, it’s a cold, rainy Thursday night. It’s Husband’s first Thursday night off in about 2 months and we haven’t seen the orange glow from Alana’s walls in a long time. There’s always tomorrow.
And so, here is my experience at Alana’s: first of all, my cab reeked of pot smoke; it explained why I had to give him turn-by-turn instructions to get from my major street to another major street, less than 2 miles away. So I might have gotten a little contact high.
We sat in the wine room, where we have a nice view of the kitchen and Husband can get up at will and wander through the wine selections. A lot of people think that a view of the kitchen equals a bad table, but they don’t know what they’re missing.
The "fabulous amuse" du jour was a slice of piri piri portabella with shaved Brussels sprouts. Spicy and good. We selected the Le Roc des Anges Cote du Roussillon, 2002 for $24.99 (add $5 for corkage), which was very nice. We had dinner with the wine maker, Marjorie Galet, last year at a wine distributor’s office, and she was very nice, although very very young. I was jealous. But I digress. I had a nice goose broth with Bantam chicken egg yolk on the side for stirring in. Husband didn’t really like it, but I enjoyed the simple richness. As I said, it was cold and rainy outside and the broth really hit the spot. Alana told me later that the soup had started out as 10 gallons of stock, reduced down to just a six pan, and that the Bantam chicken who had laid the egg was named Chick-Chick.
After that, the night took a rather Mediterranean turn. For appetizers, Husband had a warm Beluga lentil salad with minted feta, which was really great. I had a crustless "spanikopita" souffle with mint oil and ethereal crisps of individual sheets of phyllo. We chose a glass of white each for the appetizers since we were quickly running out of red. For dinner, Husband surprised me by ordering the beef tournedos with challah bread pudding (wow. What a good idea. I unfortunately only received one bite). I had debated the tournedos, but decided that I really didn’t need the bread pudding, and chose the braised lamb shank instead. The restaurant I work in does a nice lamb shank, and I wanted to compare. It was paired with mildly spiced cous cous and zucchini, parsnip, and carrot noodles. The sauce was a simple reduction of the braising liquid. Again, a great comforter on a cold and rainy night.
We don’t typically have dessert, but I felt the need for a Lillet (yes, I am aware that it is an aperitif, but thank you), and so we decided to stay for a bit. Alana recommended the Mexican pot au chocolate; the pot was dense and chocolaty, with underwhelming spiciness; I could have stood a little more cayenne, but I can understand using restraint. The spicy chocolate was complemented with a scoop of Jeni’s chocolate peppermint ice cream on the side; a great foil.
Maybe next Thursday I’ll be ready to try something different. Some people criticize Alana for not always being "perfect," or that she doesn’t have a large enough selection on her menu. I can understand some of these point of view; it is difficult to change your menu every week, and certainly some menus are more inspired than others, but it is perfect for someone like me, who is content to eat there every week, seeing what changes from week to week. It is especially nice during the summer and early autumn, when there is so much great produce out there. Alas, even though we Columbusites are surrounded by farms at every turn, we seem to be controlled by a population that are willing to buy mealy, hothouse tomatoes, even in August. But alas, I digress. We’ll see where the next dinner takes me.
Info: Alana’s Food & Wine 2333 N. High St 614.294.6783
