RESTAURANT REVIEW: Barbacana
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Creativity is super important to me when it comes to dining. Some people prefer to eat the same things over and over, which is totally fine, there's nothing wrong with knowing what you like and going back to it... but personally, I love experiencing different techniques, ideas, and philosophies as much as possible. There are restaurants that push the envelope almost too far (Alinea in Chicago, for example, is just toeing the line of being avant-garde for avant-garde's sake, though I'm still a fan), but I'd rather someone try to innovate rather than simply playing the hits. Barbacana is definitely in the first category, as this year-old "casual fine-dining" establishment oozes with ambition, pulling inspiration from cuisines far and wide to create a uniquely Houston menu.
The restaurant is located in downtown Houston on the corner of Franklin & Travis, just steps away from the nightlife of Main Street and Market Square. It's a pretty gorgeous space, with huge windows opening up to the street, and colorful designs on many of the walls. Functionally, it's separated into two seating areas, one for a la carte and one for the tasting menu, plus a small bar and a large private room in the back, which was hosting a fairly substantial Christmas party on this occasion. Rather worryingly for a Friday night, aside from that gathering there was only one other table occupied besides ours. Hopefully it was just a fluke, (as a friend pointed out, possibly due to people attending holiday parties that weekend), because that kind of business surely is not sustainable.
Before getting into the grub, I do have to acknowledge one of the cocktails, the incandescent El Catrin: Arette Blanco tequila, cardamaro (an Italian wine-based amaro), pear, and benedictine. This was one of my favorite drinks of the year, with a tequila-heavy nose but an incredibly smooth finish, featuring hints of herbaceousness and a touch of fruitiness from the pear. It was so delicious that I very nearly ordered a second one, which is something I NEVER do, not because of temperance, but because of my incessant need to try more and more new things.
As for the food, we opted for the tasting menu, which consists of six main courses (that apparently changes frequently: one review I read beforehand described an almost entirely different meal than the one we got) plus a few other small bites. To begin, an amuse-bouche consisting of two pieces: Atlantic salmon wrapped in a speckled trout leaf and topped with Kaluga caviar, and an amaretto-marinated pear with crème fraîche and molasses syrup. This savory and sweet combo set the tone for what was to come, that it was to be a tweezer-forward, Michelin-aspiring dinner.
The first of the primary dishes listed on the menu was the Gulf By-Catch: a cold, ceviche-esque preparation of vermilion snapper (a smaller relative of the more popular red snapper) with cherry tomatoes, leche de tigre, tarragon mint oil, and paper-thin slices of guanciale. A fine start, with bright citrus notes complementing the surprisingly generous pieces of raw fish, and some fun salinity from the clever guanciale. I can't say I can recall ever having any sort of cured pork/bacon with cold seafood before.
Things went downhill slightly for the next course, Bairdi Snow Crab, which was overwhelmingly the least popular at our table. There were two preparations here: a hunk of claw meat coated in spiced ghee, and a small bowl of crab in a tomato consommé with crème fraîche pearls, golden melon, and serrano oil. While I did enjoy the rich buttery flavor of the first bite, the mucilaginousness (now that's a word, though possibly not a real one) of the tomato gelée didn't entirely work for me. I'm not sure we needed another cold dish either.
Another item that could have been improved was the Thai-influenced Panang Curry. In lieu of a protein, the star was calabacita squash, with spring peas, coconut lime foam, pickled okra, and chocolate mint atop a thick, complex red sauce. While the curry had some lovely rich flavors, mild heat with subtle nuttiness and sweetness, for me the squash was somewhat mushy and simply the wrong choice to carry the kaeng. While it would have been less innovative, a traditional beef or chicken (or duck or even crab) could have made this much better. I suppose the chef wanted a vegetable course at the midpoint of the progression, but he isn't winning any points from Adrian Reviews that way.
Before I go any further, a comment on the service. While our waiter was excellent in terms of personality/friendliness and knowledgeability, for some reason the pace of service was extremely slow (to describe it as leisurely would be quite generous). I'm not sure if it was intentional or not, but there was basically only one other table eating at the same time as us, so something was clearly going on in the kitchen. I felt like I should have been ripping darts and pounding vino in a Parisian brasserie, as their famously glacial pacing was apparently the model for Barbacana.
Lest I sound too negative, the next couple of dishes were really tremendous. The Dry-Aged Duck had exquisitely seared breast slices crusted in golden sesame seeds, plated over a Szechuan-inspired sesame puree with XO sauce and chili oil. Your boy loves a nice (duck) breast, and this interesting, Asian-leaning preparation was perfectly cooked, with a deep nut (phrasing) taste and some pops of umami and spice from that criminally underrated Hong Kong condiment. Interestingly, while it gets its name from XO cognac (extra-old, e.g. Hennessy), this sauce doesn't actually contain any liquor: apparently in the 1980's when it was developed, the spirit was considered very chic in Tsim Sha Tsui, so they just lifted the name. It's even marketed in packaging with similar color schemes to Remy Martin etc..
The final savory course was the best of all, a Denver cut of Texas Wagyu prepared sous vide with a tamarind glaze, dusted with uziza (a peppery West African spice), and delicately placed on a square of fufu, quite possibly my favorite name for any foodstuff in the world. If you aren't familiar with it, fufu is a starchy dough/bread made from pounded cassava or yam meal, originating from Ghana but prevalent in the cuisines of many other African and Caribbean nations. Here the chewy, sticky carbohydrate was a great pairing to the steak, which was very nicely seasoned, both with plenty of salt and the pungent uziza. Mine was brilliant, but at least one companion had a piece or two that was overly marbled and fatty.
There's nothing more delightfully pretentious than an intermezzo, and the non-menu palate cleanser here was a cucumber lime granita (similar in texture to shaved ice), with frozen sweet cream, honey, and lemon. Cucumber is one of my least favorite foods, so I barely had a bite of that component, but the ice cream was actually really nice, sacchariferous yet a teensy bit tart. My palate was adequately cleansed, I suppose.
Finally, for dessert, a whimsical play on Caprese, with a tomato and raspberry sorbet, sour dough ice cream (!) in the shape of a small slice of cake coated with brown butter breadcrumbs, showered with shaved mozzarella, basil, and drizzled tableside with balsamic vinegar. This was really unusual but quite fun, and you really did get all the flavors of the classic Italian salad. This was clearly the most molecular gastronomy-based dish, but it worked for me, and kind of reminded me of the wizardry of Double Chicken Please, though obviously this was not a cocktail. Sadly I somehow forgot to take a photo of this one (bad Adrian, bad!).
To wind things down and bring some symmetry to the evening, another couple of small bites (what's the opposite of amuse-bouche? I guess mignardises?): a pumpkin pâte de feuille, and a caramel fudge prism. These were fine, but I am just happy that I finally learned how to write/pronounce pâte de feuille (I literally asked the waiter to spell it out for me), after first encountering these fruity gelatin bites at Camaraderie, and absolutely butchering my attempted transcription in that review.
Speaking of Camaraderie, it has a lot in common with Barbacana, though at literally half the price point, the former is surely the better value. The latter definitely has bigger ideas and ambitions, and I think with a bit of refinement (and perhaps a slight drop in cost) this could eventually become one of the better restaurants in the city. But for now, I'd say it's worth checking out once to experience some of the highs... just be prepared for some unevenness and be willing to commit a few hours to the cause.
NEXT UP: Not the Michelin-starred Mexico City restaurant Máximo