I notice it every time I wander through the secret Mill Valley passage linking Throckmorton to Sunnyside. El Paseo, Mill Valley's most romantic dining venue, is striking in its serenity. Even on a busy night, when I gaze into the candlelit rooms, the raucous revelries of neighboring restaurants seem far off, perhaps in another decade. With its award-winning cellar of French wines and its air of secluded, simple elegance, El Paseo hearkens back to a quieter era. Since Japanese restaurant group La Chouette has recently purchased El Paseo, change is afoot. To date the difference shows up in chef Keiko Takahashi's nightly prix fixe menu, which offers a choice of three courses for $45, four for $65 and a chef's tasting menu for $85. The new owners bought up some of El Paseo's famous wine cellar and combined it with their own. Sommelier Chris Wright provides a page of wines by the glass, which are poured in either three- or six-ounce servings. The full wine catalog is also available for wines by the bottle, but if you opt for the three-ounce drams, you can pair a different wine with each course, and still more or less be able to walk after a leisurely meal.
The brick-walled dining room, with its red hangings and tall black leather chairs, remains unchanged. Our server informed us that the new ownership opened after only one day's closure on the first of June. A remodel is planned for the future, including a glassed-in view of the kitchen. While I'm sure the kitchen is due for some updating, I personally don't think an open kitchen is a good idea. Part of El Paseo's charm is the sense of being cushioned from life's realities.
We started with half glasses of frosty non-vintage Lucien Albrecht Cremant d'Alsace blanc de blanc ($6); just enough sparkling wine to begin a lovely meal. In fact, I found the three-ounce pours to be perfect to savor with each individual course.
As we waited, our server brought an amuse bouche: tantalizingly tiny triangles of fresh corn frittata topped with a rosette of softened cream cheese.
The three-course dinner consists of two appetizers and one entrée from the fish or meat and poultry lists. From the selection of six cold appetizers, we began with the vegetable terrine "La Jolla" and an organic beet salad with goat cheese and sherry vinaigrette. Two of the others came with $15 supplemental charges due to exotic ingredients such as caviar or Kampachi sashimi imported from Tsukiji, Japan.
The slice of terrine, a stunning mosaic of vibrant vegetable shapes, included asparagus, green beans, shiitake mushrooms, carrots and okra, bound together in a pale amber aspic, wrapped in translucent sheets of leek, and accented with a bright parsley and garlic pesto. Each vegetable sparkled with its own, individual flavor. A server brought a white porcelain boat whose three compartments were filled with butter, a fruity Frantoio olive oil and dukka, the Middle Eastern mixture of toasted sesame seeds and hazelnuts with cumin and coriander. Then we were served slices of hot, crusty bread. You dip bites of bread in the oil, then in the seed mixture. This was delicious with the light and lovely terrine.
The salad, while not as unique, was prettily executed. A froth of frisée and radicchio drifted over slices of beet dressed lightly with the simple vinaigrette, nicely punctuated by the tangy chvre.
With the vegetable courses, we tried three ounces of two Alsatian wines: 2004 Hirsch Gruner Veltliner Lamm ($9) and 2004 Roland Schmidt Tokay pinot gris ($6). I thought the pinot gris especially soft and fragrant.
Next came our choices from the warm appetizers. I had decided to spend an extra $5 for pan-seared artisan foie gras with espresso sauce. My tender slice of caramelized goose liver came draped over a spoonful of artichoke-heart purée. It was the sauce that had hooked me, and it did not disappoint: buttery velvet with a deep, haunting coffee flavor. (But I think it also kept me awake most of the night.) With the foie gras, I was offered and accepted a one-and-a-half ounce glass of 2001 Chateau de Rayne Vigneau Sauternes ($10), sips of which were a sweet counterpoint to the creamy liver and dark, pungent sauce.
My companion was hungry. He had been devouring bread, and was growing increasingly worried that he should have opted for four courses instead of three. His serving of asparagus and truffle risotto with Parmesan galette did not reassure him. Although the glistening risotto, set off by its crisp golden disc of melted Parmesan, may have been the most perfect either of us has ever tasted, the portion seemed meager. A relatively small slice of the rich foie gras had seemed appropriate, but in the salad, risotto or the vegetable terrine (all of which include relatively inexpensive ingredients), servings of more than a few bites would have felt more generous.
So, you can imagine his disappointment when his entrée turned out to be a small plate. From the fish and seafood list, roast calamari with lobster and scallop stuffing sounded, and was, mouth-watering. The chef had cunningly stuffed the tubes of squid with shellfish and fresh herbs, so that they resembled lovely little seafood sausages. But there were only four, propped against each other in a wide bowl; each comprising merely a mouthful or two for a man; and the spinach garnish was less than a fork's worth. If the seafood entrées are really intended as light courses, the servers should impart that information. Or perhaps the portion could be amplified when it is ordered as the solo entrée?
My roast duck with Perigueux sauce, however, was ample. A whole breast, roasted rare with crisp skin on top, fanned out across the plate. It was accompanied by slices of braised endive and a Madeira wine reduction. It was more than I needed, so of course I shared it with my now glum companion.
We asked the sommelier for wine recommendations for our entrées. He poured us half glasses of 2004 Deux Montille Meursault Les Grands Charrons ($10) and 2003 Chateau Rayas Chateauneuf-du-Pape ($14). Both were refined and delicate. Also, for three ounces, they were expensive. We probably should have checked the prices before we accepted them.
Usually after a meal of two or three courses, we have room for only one dessert. But it was clear that my companion would need more than a bite or two of something sweet. His apple tart with caramel ice cream went a long way to mollify him: a crumbly, buttery crust, melting apple slices and the smooth oeuf of caramel glace. My profiteroles were tasty too, although not as crisp as some. Both desserts were $8, and both were more than adequate in portion size.
Throughout our meal, service was smooth and professional. The wait for our entrées stretched out a little, but otherwise the timing was fine.
Dinner for two, with what amounted to less than two glasses of wine each, coffee and dessert, came in at a whopping $227 including tip. Had we been more judicious about the extras by choosing fewer or less expensive wines and forgoing the additional $5 for the foie gras, our tab would still have been nearly $200. And our three-course meals were the most economical on the menu. The dishes were artfully prepared, beautiful and delicious. But in Marin County, for that kind of money, a chef doesn't want the males of the species leaving the table hungry.
