Juanita & Maude keeps it personal
Many chefs who open their own restaurants work at a series of kitchens to gain experience and hone their personal approach. Scott Eastman’s story is a little different. He stayed in one place, Corso in Berkeley, cooking Italian food for nine years.
That’s a long time to spend in one place. However, late last year he ventured out to open Juanita & Maude in Albany. For this he did what many successful chefs do — he brought his spouse, Ariane Owens, into the business to design the space and handle the business aspects. Eastman named the restaurant after his grandmother and mother, making it clear that this is a very personal endeavor.
Owning a restaurant in the Bay Area is a challenge, not only to eke out a profit but to find staff and to coordinate the front and back of the house.
On an early visit, we could tell the staff was taxed. It was a Saturday night, and the intentions seemed good — but one of the managers was practically running through the dining room, making things seem more chaotic than they needed to be. On other visits there were glimmers of the previous frenzy, but overall the staff had settled in.
Eastman has a keen grasp of what comes out of the The cozy dining room at Juanita & Maude in Albany, from top; chef Scott Eastman worked at Corso in Berkeley for nine years before opening the restaurant, named for his grandmother and mother; pappardelle with beef and pork sugo ($18). kitchen. The menu is broader and more personal than what he cooked at Corso, with many different influences on the menu. There are three sections: beginnings, firsts and seconds. The offerings hit all the trends: charcuterie, flatbread and crudo. There’s a nod to Japan in the quinoa donburi ($15), and an Eastern European influence in the strudel filled with mushrooms, goat cheese and spinach ($23). Many dishes fall into the Italian wheelhouse.
Eastman’s wood-fired flatbread ($13) is oval and puffy, topped simply with broccoli rabe, chiles, anchovies for a boost of umami, and a modulating sprinkle of Pecorino cheese.
The charcuterie is made in house, and the three selections (mortadella with pistachios, spicy coppa and an excellent head cheese, $13) are arranged on a board with pickles, caper berries and chunks of breaded and deep-fried mayonnaise.
There’s always a pasta dish that channels Corso. One evening it was tagliatelle with veal Bolognese ($19), and on another it was pappardelle with beef sugo with a flavor boost of marjoram, savory and a spicy background of chiles ($18). The gnocchi ($18) are appropriately tender and simply sauced with tomato cream and marjoram.
I’m always attracted to a chop salad ($13) because when everything is about the same size it makes for an integrated and cohesive dish. Eastman’s is a particularly good example, combining bitter Castelfranco, apple, golden raisins and walnuts with generous chunks of Point Reyes blue cheese in the creamy dressing.
Since the pleasant interior has a homey sensibility and the appetizer portions are generous, I was a little surprised when the roast chicken ($27) included only a leg and thigh. But I could not quibble with the preparation, which included black trumpet mushrooms and brown butter spätzle. On another visit the roast chicken was replaced with a paillard ($24) on a warm bed of black barley and almost completely covered with a mound of salad greens, including red endive and romanesco. The idea of lightening up the combo is good, but in this case the topping was more a distraction than an enhancement.
The bacon-wrapped monkfish ($32) was fully realized with celery root, roasted carrots and clumps of pickled mustard seed. It’s destined to have a long life on the menu.
On every visit there was a sausage among the five main courses. At one dinner it was lamb with black lentils ($25); another, smoked duck ($24) on a cool bed of butter beans, black trumpet mushrooms and chunks of feta. Flavors were spot-on, although the cold beans were a distraction underneath.
Dessert, at least on my visits, could use a tweak or two. The sticky toffee cake ($11) was a deconstructed version that didn’t work. The chocolate mousse ($10) tasted anemic; and the crème Catalan ($12) had a texture that was too stiff.
But these are small things. The well-executed main dishes — and the fact that the restaurant has a fully realized bar program with creative options like house-made pineapple soda — are enough to make me want to go back.