It was a good summer for restaurant openings in the county. The newest kid on the block is Picco, Chef Bruce Hill's small plates venue in Larkspur. Hill cut his teeth as a sous chef at Stars before doing stints at Aqua, then at the early fusion pioneer Oritalia and, in 1997, at the newly renovated Waterfront in San Francisco as executive chef. He told me that he and the Real Restaurants folks looked for a long time to find the right space for him. They wanted to do small plates with eclectic influences, using as many local ingredients as possible. When the space vacated by Roxanne's became available, they snapped it up. They opened their pizzeria first in the old deli space. After a remodel, which included buying stoves, a mesquite grill and pots and pans (which were unnecessary in the raw food business), Picco opened for dinner on July 14. The new room has some definite oddities in the design department. Where the former tenant cultivated an aura of serenity, entering Picco feels more like walking into a rowdy neighborhood singles' bar. The front door opens into a narrow passageway wedged between the bar and front windows that leads toward the actual dining room. When this is lined with people, it's difficult to figure out where to wait, or whom to consult about a reserved table.
On a busy night, the dining room, with its brick walls, barn ceiling and stone tiled floors, reverberates with sound. In addition to a few sidewalk tables for warm evenings, there are three small tables for two adjacent to the bustling bar; a partially enclosed alcove with a big table for large parties; and, beyond the rest rooms and wine cabinet, a small, darkened lounge with couches, easy chairs and a television for…living room dining? At least it seemed quieter in there. The night we visited, there was a baby in a stroller snoozing peacefully while his (or her) parents ate dinner sitting on the couch. Hill told me they only show food movies on the TV. Sorry guys, no sports will be available.
Arriving for an 8:15 reservation on a Friday evening, we felt bombarded by noise and confusion. It helped that a cheerful young woman quickly noticed us looking lost, and ushered us to our table in the bar area. As we sat down, the wine director was shouting into the ear of the guy sitting at the next table. She wasn't angry; but she literally had to yell to make herself heard. It was an inauspicious beginning to what turned out to be a fine evening, once the crowds thinned out and the noise level ratcheted down to a conversational level.
Our server presented herself almost immediately to take a beverage order, but we had only just been seated and hadn't had time to look at the wine or cocktail lists. That activity turned out to be a major undertaking. The special cocktail list is short and sweet; six exotic and delicious sounding libations including a Melon Ball made with rum, fresh melon juice, Thai basil and fresh lime, or a Picco Pimm's Cup with vodka, Pimm's Cup and fresh cucumber juice (both $8). I guess they must have kept the juicers from Roxanne's.
But the wine list, designed by Michael Ouellette, is a hefty 26-page tome, with a table of contents listing pages of different, sometimes whimsical categories of wines. There's a page of sakes and one of seasonal selections; one of wines produced from vineyards above 1,500 feet; wine geeks' recommendations and cult wines; exceptional wines under $30; wines made with biodynamic agricultural practices. It goes on and on.
Which is fabulous, except that in all that cacophony, I needed to toss back a glass of something just to settle my nerves enough to concentrate. I opted for a glass of crisp non-vintage sparkling Aviny--, Cava Brut from Spain ($8). My companion was interested in the sakes. But alas, our server professed to know nothing about the three choices, which she said had only just been added to the list, and wine director Sarah Knoefler was apparently not available for a consultation. A selection was finally made by the close-your-eyes-and-point method; the resulting glass of chilled Ichinokura "Princess" Miyagi ($7) was as soft as honeydew, but too sweet for an appetizer wine.
The first four items on the menu are all preparations of raw seafood. We chose Marin Miyagi oysters ($8.95), four tiny bivalves served on the half shell with Meyer lemon ponzu, and a precise little dice of chili and cucumber. Ponzu seems to be the sauce of the moment for oysters, but I thought the soy made them taste fishy. However, we very much liked king salmon "crudo" ($9:50), silky ruffles of raw fish layered among slender oblongs of lemon cucumber, sauced with a blood orange ponzu and scattered slices of red chili and crisp fried shallot.
Around the time we finished, our server came by to see how the sake had turned out. When we told her it had been more a dessert wine, she brought a much drier glass of Ichinokura Taru ($7), cedar aged, also from Miyagi, and told us there would be no charge.
We had both spied the "slice of ice" salad ($7.95) on its way to another table, and had to have it. On a thick round of chilled iceberg lettuce, the chef layers crackle-thin shards of house-cured pancetta around a soft poached egg, and smothers the whole thing with an herb dressing studded with chunks of sweet tomato. It was cool, crisp, salty, creamy, lemony, oozing with egg yolk and tomato juices. I've thought of that salad every day since, and can't wait to go back for another.
Our other salad selection was just as wonderful. Sliced Brentwood heirloom tomatoes heaped with arugula, sweet onions and toasted garlic-miso dressing were a late summer bonanza of juicy flavors. The menu's dictum "taste more--dare to share" worked beautifully with these salads, because we loved them both equally.
When ordering small plates, it's so hard not to overdo it, and this menu is filled with potential delights. I had been unable to resist ordering a plate of squash blossoms ($9.95) filled with ricotta and mint. Although the puffy tempura missiles were luscious, they somehow weren't that different in taste or texture from the iceberg salad. And they were very rich. I found myself eyeing our neighbor's simple plate of stir-fried broccoli rabe ($5.75) with envy.
Having fortified ourselves with sake and champagne, we were able to peruse the Small Gems page of the wine list and choose a lovely, smoky half bottle of Rex Hill 2002 Pinot Noir from the Dundee Hills of the Willamette Valley ($29).
Then we tucked into a refreshing tangle of grilled Florida prawns ($15.95) with a Vietnamese salad of julienne gypsy peppers, yellow carrots and summer beans, tossed with peanuts in a lime-scented dressing spiked with mint. Our final dish, four Moroccan spiced kebabs of ground lamb ($8.95) looked lonely on their plate, but packed a lot of punch in flavor and texture, set off by a smooth red pepper harissa pur e.
Chef Hill has wisely limited the dessert list to local cheeses, fruit, ice creams and sorbets, a frozen mousse and a chocolate ganache with dips. Unable to choose, we asked our server what she liked. Her recommendation of the frozen mascarpone mousse with red peaches and vanilla ($7.95) was perfect. The mousse, a snowy semifreddo, had a caramelized topping that shattered against the fork, and the surrounding ring of ruby red peach slices and puddles of peach/vanilla syrup added an agreeable tart/sweet foil. Picco's is one of those menus from whence, if you order carefully, you can dine for a moderate price. But if you let yourself get carried away as we did, you may be surprised by the bill. And as with all small plates, it's a good idea to ask the server about portion sizes. Some are appetizer sized, and some are more like regular entrees, and you can't always tell by the price.
