Back in the '70s, I lived for a while in Nicasio. When you reside in the wilds of West Marin, a meandering afternoon drive along Tomales Bay seems more relaxing than if you have to fight traffic for an hour just to get there. I remember spending long summer afternoons poking around Bodega Bay, Dillon Beach and Tomales, then winding back to Marshall for barbecued oysters at Tony's or Nick's Cove, with the sun glinting on the rippling bay around Hog Island before it sank behind Tomales Point.In those penurious days, we didn't eat out all that often, and we ordered the cheapest things on the menu to share. After a couple of oysters, sticky with butter and sweet barbecue sauce, we split a bowl of clam chowder and a Caesar salad. We always specified that the thick, bland chowder be served piping hot, so it wouldn't cool too much when we doctored it with Tabasco, squeezes of lemon and a generous slug from our shared glass of white wine.
I think Pat Kuleto's own dreamy memories of such afternoons must have led him and partner Mark Franz to buy, then spend seven years completing a brilliant renovation of Nick's Cove and cottages. The colorful little row of stilt houses nestles in the southern wing of the peaceful cove, gazing out across the bay through west-facing windows. On the north side there's a huge crane hovering over a stand of iron pilings, evoking images of the fishing village and timber cove that once thrived here.
Smack in the center is the picturesque bar and restaurant, with its white stucco faŤade and long, narrow pier jutting out into the bay. Even though signs of modernity lurk in the background, including a valet parking stand and several new cottages rising up on the east side of the highway, arriving at the new Nick's Cove is like driving back into time.
Sold off from the huge Rancho Nicasio land grant, the cove was originally developed by Nick Kojich, one of a number of Slovenian immigrants who settled around Tomales Bay because the climate resembled that of their native Adriatic. Along with the original restaurant, the cottages were built in the early 1930s, when the road was first paved and widened. That restaurant burned in 1950, and was rebuilt by the owners' descendants. Sold in 1973 to the Gibson family, it operated in the incarnation I remember until Kuleto bought it in 1999.
After a long and expensive battle with coastal environmental groups, Nick's Cove opened in early July, a spiffed up version of its former self whose retro charm belies the time and effort that must have gone into getting it just right. On the porch, a derelict ice machine, antique fire hose, rusting anchor and other maritime relics fade in the sunlight as though they've been there since the '50s. Inside the high raftered room, a towering stone fireplace and wall of bay-facing windows dominate. Rope-framed historical scenes, driftwood sculpture and yes, numerous tule elk heads and large lacquered fish ring the walls. As of this week, you can also dine on the bayside deck lined with pastel-painted Adirondack chairs. There's a liquor bar, an oyster bar and high communal table for walk-in seating. Country, jazz and folk music play softly in the background.
Executive chefs Heather Ames and Matt Weinberger, who both worked at Kuleto's Farallon, craft a nightly changing menu focused around local seafood and produce. The extensive wine list, too, is designed to pair with seafood, with California and imported bottles in a wide range of prices, and a dozen wines by the glass ranging from $8 to $14, including two rosés, two Champagnes and a French Chablis.
When we inquired about the oyster selection, our server recommended Hog Island Kumamotos, which he said his dad farmed up the road a ways, and Preston Point Pacifics. Bemoaning the days when they would have cost a quarter as much, we ordered three little Kumamotos and three larger Preston Points ($12). They arrived on a bed of ice set over a high stand, whose purpose I couldn't quite fathom, since it raised them above eye level and made them harder to transfer to our plates. But they tasted wonderfully cool; creamy and briny, doused from tiny pots of champagne mignonette and another spiked with jalape–os and cilantro.
Our server had also recommended the ceviche of California corvina ($12); cubes of chewy fish in a salty lemon, red onion, hot pepper and avocado marinade. Ceviche needs some salt, but this was way over the top, and in contrast, our final appetizer, the plump, crisp and crab-packed Bodega Bay Dungeness Crab Cake ($16), tasted even blander than it was. The accompanying dollop of fennel remoulade didn't do much to spark up the crab. The lovely, large cake, which comes with a small mound of greens, cries out for some heat and citrus to accent the flavors.
Another recommended dish, County Line Harvest Mixed Greens ($8), tossed a big sheaf of local lettuces with shaved Serenita Farmstead Cheese, Knoll Farms brown turkey figs and toasted pistachios in a whisper of salt, lemon and oil as dressing. I liked the light touch. That whole pistachios are hard to get onto a salad fork with lettuce is a minor quibble.
We gasped at the size of the first entrée to arrive, a herculean Oak Grilled Pork Loin Chop ($23), draped over wilted dandelion greens on an equally ample portion of sweet corn risotto. Two grilled figs wrapped in rosettes of thick, apple wood-smoked bacon and a red wine gastrique completed the plate. The meat was tender and juicy, and the risotto pleasingly light, which it needed to be given the richness of the fig and bacon garnish. But the sauce had no complexity, and merely tasted sweet. I'd have liked it to include some savory and herbal notes, to pull the flavors into focus.
The sheer heft of the chop made my thin sliver of California Sea Bass ($23) look dinky, although it turned out to be enough food for me, since I get to taste everyone else's. Roasted to a golden crispness on top, it rested on a bed of creamy polenta, scattered with sugar-sweet marinated cherry tomatoes and drizzled with pesto. The flavors were a tad predictable, but nonetheless tasty.
Our third entrée, Grilled Wild Oregon Coho Salmon ($22), was more normally portioned: not too big but not too small. A tender fillet reclined on a mound of mashed potatoes laced with chunks of pancetta and sweet corn kernels. Tiny, whole-roasted green gypsy peppers lent some smoke and bite. But again, I wanted some complexity and zip from the delicate sauce, listed as tomato beurre fondue, but tasting primarily of butter.
We had watched a few desserts (all $7) parading past on their way to other tables, so by the time we saw the list, we knew what we wanted. Sebastopol Berry Farm Summer Berries ladled a luscious mélange of blackberries, raspberries and blueberries over sweet, creamy Champagne sabayon. We could have spooned that up all night.
Ranger Cookie Ice Cream Sundae, a big glass coupe of housemade vanilla bean ice cream splashed with caramel sauce, came with two scrumptious butterscotch oatmeal cookies. I crumbled mine into the bowl. Our only complaint was one of misguided expectations: We had imagined that the sundae would include some fudge sauce for our chocolate lover, which it did not.
Service at Nick's Cove is provided by young, proudly local denizens. They bring a nice blend of casual professionalism and knowledge of the area to the proceedings. Sometimes our server disappeared for a bit too long, but the scenery was so gorgeous that we didn't care.
The sun had set during our leisurely meal. Children at adjoining tables had fallen asleep, and the two women celebrating something next to us had upended their bottle of Champagne in its ice bucket. When the light was at its loveliest, I had ventured aloud that I wanted to just move in and live there. But we settled for a twilight walk along the pier. Even though I wanted more punch from most of the food, I thought the menu well designed, with lower-priced options like a cheeseburger ($12), steamed Tomales Bay mussels or Manila clams ($11) and even New England style littleneck clam chowder ($9), which I'll go back to sample some September evening<0x2014>because I absolutely loved Nick's Cove for the ambiance. It feels timeless, as though it has always been there, and will be forever.
