Feel-good cuisine
The Perennial is chic and socially conscious, but how does that taste?
The Perennial, which has been called the restaurant of the future, is intent on changing how restaurants operate — how they grow food, how they prepare it and even how they serve it.
It’s not a new idea, of course: For the last nine years, Spruce, the elegant Presidio Heights restaurant, has been turning recycled cooking oil into fuel for its farm’s delivery truck; last year the Post Ranch Inn in Big Sur began using an air compressor to clean dishes and save water; and dozens of other restaurants are carefully growing and sourcing products to the extent that some don’t even advertise it anymore.
That’s to say that many restaurants are addressing environmental problems in an understated, socially conscious way, but few go as far — or promote it so forcefully — as the Perennial, the new Mid-Market restaurant from Anthony Myint and Karen Leibowitz, the husband-andwife team behind other trendsetting restaurants including Mission Chinese Food and Commonwealth.
At times the Perennial can seem painfully politically correct, and my initial impression was mixed, thinking the main reason to return would be to support the noble endeavor. But over the course of my three visits, the food from chef Chris Kiyuna steadily improved; now, I’d happily return just to eat.
The interior mirrors today’s trends with recycled tile and wood, including a woven slat ceiling that gives a finished look to the 105-seat space, reprocessed carpet inset in concrete floors and other eco-friendly touches too numerous to mention. Suffice it to say that about every aspect of the experience — from design to the delivery of the bill at the end — has been examined.
When diners open the menu they are confronted with the owners’ overarching philosophy: “The Perennial is a restaurant and bar dedicated to environmental sustainability. We believe that food must be part of the climate change conversation, and that restaurants can lead the way. We’re trying to rethink everything about the food world and we’re happy to tell you about it. (Or you can just enjoy the food.)”
Waiters quickly point out that the
narrow tiles at each place setting are to be used as flatware rests, because the staff doesn’t automatically change out utensils, a practice that translates to fewer items to wash. It’s an admirable idea, although probably not that pleasant for the diner who ordered the deconstructed cheese tart and has smears of goat cheese glued to a knife. But like most of us, the Perennial staff is still trying to reprogram ingrained habits. We asked about a specific wine and the waiter offered a taste. When we said it was good and ordered it he brought another glass, rather than using what was already on the table.
Kiyuna — who has spent time in the kitchens of Mission Chinese Food, Coi, Plum and Contigo — has to juggle more restrictions than other chefs, and it’s taken a while to wrap his talent around them.
No menu I know is so carefully sourced. For the bread ($5), Kiyuna uses Kernza, a perennial wheatgrass known for its carbon-capturing root system. Cocktails ($12) are often served with a layer of ice frozen to the bottom of the glass, a clever technique that both saves on water waste and doesn’t over-dilute the spirits.
The menu consists of about 15 dishes priced between $9 and $24. The waiters suggest diners order three dishes per person, as many portions are small — the magnificently seasoned pumpkin seed bisque consisted of only seven spoons of creamy green broth. We wanted more. Steak tartare ($17) is barely two tablespoons, but the effort was fully realized. The meat — some was ground and the rest chopped, a technique that provided textural layers — was powerfully punched with pickled chiles, green peppercorns and tepary beans, which again speaks to the overarching idea of the restaurant. These beans, native to the Southwest, are drought resistant and have modest water requirements.
Potato confit ($14) is made with Carola and Laratte potatoes, known for both their buttery flavor and generous yield. The creamy potatoes were brought to distinction with walnuts, shaved radishes and clam bagna cauda, a sludgy sauce that didn’t have much of a seafood flavor but added a subtle but important background component.
The most generous — and compelling — appetizer is cauliflower toast ($12) where the vegetables are piled on toasted bread with puntarelle, cilantro flowers and a savory glaze that added meatiness to the blend. Crisp and tender grains ($12) — the dish’s name gives you a clue to the textures — gets its character from cheese, black trumpet mushrooms and crispy artichokes.
The green salad ($11) is made from hydroponic lettuces grown in their 2,000square-foot warehouse in Oakland; the greens are sturdier than those grown in the ground, but were nicely bal- anced with the vinaigrette flavored with sunflower.
On first thought it would seem logical that the Perennial would forgo meat and promote grains and vegan embellishments, especially since we’ve heard repeatedly about the negative impact of beef and other grazing animals on the environment. However, meat is a prominent element. Diners are likely to get a card with the check that details why the owners feel fine about offering meat. The card explains the concept of carbon farming, a management system that removes carbon dioxide from the atmosphere by planting deeprooted perennial plants. Kiyuna also procures large cuts and whole animals to reduce waste.
There’s always carbon-ranched beef from Stemple Creek Ranch on the menu, but the cut varies. The London broil ($25) on one night was intensely meaty, accented with thick slices of beets balanced by shavings of horseradish-cured root vegetables. The same could be said for the pastured lamb ($24); on one visit, medallions of loin and a few coarse strings of stewed shoulder were intensified with black garlic and lightened with mint. The trout ($23) utilized the beef bone marrow in a rich broth with mussels and the noteworthy addition of celtuce.
When it came to dessert, the advertised buckwheat financier ($11) was more like a rolled ice cream sandwich with a thin layer of cake, wrapping parsnip ice cream and candy cap mushrooms. The roll was cut in sections and propped on the edge of an oversize black plate that made me wonder if they considered plate size in the overall washing process. It seems a small plate might be easier to store and clean, and in this case some of the food might look better. My favorite ending, though, was the nasturtium ice cream ($11), dusted with pecans, dried coins of kiwi and a little tarragon to add a subtle licorice nuance.
In the end, I love the idea of what Myint and Leibowitz are trying to do at the Perennial. Yet the restaurant can only be truly successful if the food stands on its own. It feels as if Kiyuna is finding his groove and standing tall.