If a fine-dining venue being booked solid from even before its official opening can be construed as a harbinger of economic resurgence, Marin County denizens have reason to be optimistic. In fact, cushioned at a banquette table in spacious, comfortable Murray Circle, dining on modern sustainable cuisine in a beautiful room whose echoes of the past have been lovingly brought into the present, I felt far, far away from gloomy daily news reports of any kind.That's appropriate, because Cavallo Point, the new resort and conference center at lovely old Fort Baker at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge, is the first National Park Lodge in the Bay Area, and one dedicated to a positive approach to environmental concerns. The resort includes a spa, conference center and, later this year, an environmental program to convene dialogue moving toward solutions to modern issues that promote health, and sustain and protect the environment. There are hikes and tours, culinary and yoga classes, and a future spectrum of events that you can find on the website.
Murray Circle is the name of the horseshoe-shaped street curving around the old parade grounds, and thus the moniker of the restaurant as well. Open since early June in John Muir Hall, Murray Circle serves breakfast, lunch and dinner seven days a week, and brunch on the weekends. The interior of the cavernous old barracks hall has been redone in earth and sea tones: green, brown, cream and taupe, with the original pressed tin ceiling high above. Collections of sleek black and white photos are the primary adornments.
The restaurant is to the right as you enter the building. Clubby Farley's Bar, which serves its own menu, is on the left. Two large rooms hold tables for around 100, with additional seating on the porch on warm days and nights. Service is smooth and professional from the moment you present yourself to the host, and we found our server Rosie to be especially knowledgeable and accommodating.
Executive Chef Joseph Humphrey--whose pedigree includes stints at Auberge du Soleil and more recently Meadow Wood, where he was awarded two Michelin stars--creates a changing menu of small plates using fresh, local, organic and sustainable ingredients. The provenance of the featured ingredient of each dish is listed on the menu, including, charmingly, the name of the fishing vessel and the waters where the fish were caught.
The dishes are broken down simply into a fruit and vegetable section, then one of fish and shellfish, then finally meats and poultry. In each category, a couple of the star ingredients are offered in a choice of two different preparations. Chef Humphrey also likes to prepare the main ingredient in two different ways on the same plate. Rosie recommended we order two to three each, and three actually turned out to be more food than we needed. There's also a chef's tasting menu of five courses, some, but not all of which are listed on the menu ($75).
A server brought us warm breads and butter. The standout was a delicious braided roll laced with hijiki seaweed. I expected it to taste fishy, but the flavor was more nutlike, with a hint of herb or spice.
When I voiced indecision regarding a first plate, Rosie smoothly steered me toward the "gazpacho" of Iacopi Farms sweet English peas from Bolinas ($13), and I was very glad I followed her advice. In a white bowl, a mound of tender fresh peas spiked with a tiny mince of green garlic was topped by a scoop of citrus-fennel ice. From a white porcelain cruet, a server poured in a chilled pea soup of summery green hue. Each heavenly spoonful included the silken soup and the pop of peas, with the lemony ice melting against my tongue. I wanted that bowl of soup to be bottomless!
Not as remarkable was the vichyssoise of green garlic from Knoll Farms in Contra Costa County ($13). The soup was thick, and more bland than we imagined it would be, and the garnishes of grilled grapes and radish more odd than interesting. We did like the crunchy bite of spiced almonds. These aren't called appetizers on the menu, by the way, but really, that's what they are.
With a menu of several courses, I always think it's best to order wines by the glass. The 22 offered at Murray Circle range among France, Germany, Austria, Spain, Italy, Oregon and California. All are of very high quality, and accordingly priced between $8 and $30. When we inquired which would best suit our choices, Rosie volunteered an impromptu mini-tasting, and did warn us when one of the wines that might work was in the higher range. She also brought us tastes of wines that weren't offered by the glass on the list, two of which we wound up choosing, and half-glasses when we requested them for our final course.
Some of the seafood offerings are more like starters than others. I loved Dungeness crab brought in from Half Moon Bay on the vessel Rony Lynn tossed with jalapeno, wrapped in translucent slices of d'Anjou pear and bathed in a pale green vanilla scented jus ($15). Working a chaud/froid synergy, each cool roll was topped with a hot crab leg sautéed in crushed sunflower seeds.
My halibut from the vessel Three Captains, also from Half Moon Bay ($16), came roasted in fig leaves and topped with shards of lemon and fennel alongside a ramekin of the chef's take on brandade, consisting of warm fennel puree shot with chunks of house smoked halibut. The idea is to dip a bite of the roasted fish into the brandade. I loved its haunting smokiness. I found this plate, which looked small, to be very filling.
That was a shame, because I could only manage a few bites of my last, and therefore heaviest choice. A luscious portion of grass fed rib eye from Marin Sun Farms in Point Reyes came wood roasted. With it were a smear of avocado puree, and tiny potatoes sitting on a smear of housemade barbecue sauce. May I say a few words about smears? They're a presentation currently dear to the hearts of many chefs, but I find them unattractive and sometimes hard to access with a fork. I'm not crazy about tiny dots of sauces, either. Even though they look pretty, there's often not enough of them to really taste or enhance the food. Can we go back to serving sauces in cute little pots, or sake cups, or something like that?
But anyway, the steak had great flavor, with a grape gastrique poured next to it from a tiny pitcher, the remnants of which I asked the server to leave. My only regret is that I forgot that I had requested to take most of it home, and the server didn't bring it, so we left without it. That was one of very few minor glitches in our otherwise seamless treatment at the hands of the very well-trained staff. This is the kind of place where they refold your napkin when you go to the restroom, and hover nearby to pull out your chair when you return. Whilst he was hovering, the host showed me how he folded the napkins, which I've never been able to figure out on my own. Now I can try it at home!
I thought roasted leg and loin of grass fed lamb from Pozzi Farms in Sonoma ($21) missed the mark, though. It was very pretty; rosy slices strewn with nasturtium flowers and served with a thick, tart apricot puree. But it needed a second, light savory sauce to marry the lamb with the fruit, and I wound up donating my leftover grape gastrique to that end.
From the dessert list (all $9), we chose a deconstructed cherry pie, which sounded absolutely divine. But, like Humpty Dumpty, the individual elements didn't quite make it back together again. Plump dark cherries were arranged on a pastry disc topped with almond paste, with an oeuf of buttermilk ice cream. On top of that were laid two lattices of black pepper pastry. Our server had described this as being served in cherry juice, but if the juice was there, it was in very short supply. Too much pastry in proportion to the fruit and ice cream rendered the whole dessert too dry. I wished we had chosen the chocolate-expresso tart with creamsicle ice cream, or maybe the butterscotch soufflé, which takes fifteen minutes. Although the dining room is certainly relaxing enough to while away an additional quarter hour, I thought we should have been given advance notice, perhaps with the service of our final plates, that one of the desserts requires extra time.
We walked back to our car in a fine twilit drizzle, taking in the soaring view of the bridge and the bay. Had it been less foggy, we might have continued to stroll instead of drive, but our slow circumnavigation of the parade grounds and its tidy row of newly painted houses still evoked a feeling of care and leisure belonging to another time. Murray Circle, with its aspirations to marry modernity and thoughtful tradition, seems to fit right in.
