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Daniel's Revised Mediterranean Menu Is A Case Study In Delectable.
By Rebecca Cook
I'VE HAD THE pleasure of reviewing Tucson restaurants for
about three years now, yet I never cease to be amazed at how many
really great restaurants we have in this town. Be it casual, swanky,
ethnic, funky or out-of-your-mind nouvelle, we've got it. We may
not have the multitude of restaurants that megacities have, but
nobody can convince me we sacrifice much in the way of quality.
Daniel's Restaurant is a good case in point. Here we have a restaurant
that not only competes admirably on anyone's scale as one of Tucson's
finest, but does so in perilously close proximity to Café
Terra Cotta and Ovens, two heavy contenders for that same distinction.
In addition, popular spots like Breckenridge Brewery and El Corral
hover nearby, further beckoning would-be clientele. Despite the
competition, Daniel's flourishes.
Daniel's is not only a worthy rival with regard to food; the
restaurant offers a sumptuous dining environment as well. The
slightly sunken bar just off the main entry is sleek, contemporary
and sparkling with reflected light from a curved wall of paneled
glass. The dining rooms are elegantly decorated in muted pastels,
accented by floral arrangements and wall art imparting an elegant
but spare oriental charm. Table settings are subtly ornate, lending
an understated formality which avoids being too prim or at all
stuffy. On the contrary, this is a comfortable place, made even
more so by its relaxed and knowledgeable staff, who coordinate
your evening's meal with warmth and competence. What a rare pleasure.
Deciding on the evening's fare (which includes a listing of daily
specials) requires some consideration. To accommodate this contemplative
phase of the meal, a basket of warm breadsticks, focaccia and
white Italian bread is set before you, along with a small bowl
of garlic-scented olive oil. A little while later a ramekin of
finely chopped stewed tomatoes and roasted garlic arrives, topped
with a dollop of mascarpone and goat cheese. The sweetness of
the tomatoes, pungent garlic and the creamy bite of the two cheeses
meld gorgeously on the tongue, leaving your mouth watering for
the next course.
Executive Chef Michael Veres has altered Daniel's menu in recent
months to reflect a more diverse Mediterranean influence, but
the primary focus remains Northern Italy. Pasta, risotto, scaloppini
and osso bucco dot the menu alongside couscous stuffed peppers
and sea scallops tossed in a zesty grapefruit dressing. It's an
intriguing combination of flavorings, and, to Veres credit, he
stays close enough to tradition to avoid a complete lapse in common
sense. Frankly, in the quest to be novel many restaurants err
on the side of some pretty weird food these days. Not Veres. Everything
here is well thought out and beautifully integrated into a harmoniously
delicious whole.
Although we could easily have skipped an appetizer after the
complimentary antipasti, we had to sample the salmone affumicato,
shavings of smoked salmon gravlax in a napoleon of crispy slivers
of sweet potato, red onion, cream cheese and capers. Served on
a platter with chive-flavored olive oil, this was a heavenly hors
d'oeuvre. The balance of sweet, briny, creamy and smoky was unusual
and enormously satisfying, as was the textural combination of
crunchy, chewy and soft.
We turned next to the matter of greens: a classic Caesar salad
prepared tableside. A table was trundled out, and our waiter rolled
up his sleeves and went to work on the dressing. Anchovy fillets
were mashed, and a heaping tablespoon of minced garlic was blended
in along with a dash of Worcestershire, a squeeze of fresh lemon,
and one raw egg. Next, a mountain of verdant romaine leaves joined
several spoonfuls of powder-fine Parmesan cheese, and a fistful
of homemade croutons. By the time it was tossed, there was so
much salad it couldn't even be mounded with concentrated effort
onto our very large plates. And my, was it delicious. Caesar salad
shows up on everyone's menu these days, but seldom is it as well
done as it is at Daniel's. If all I could eat here was this salad,
some of Daniel's fine bread and a bubbling bowl of those garlicky
tomatoes and cheese, I'd still be one very happy diner. When the
first courses are this good, entrees almost seem superfluous.
Almost, but not quite.
I chose Daniel's breaded New Zealand lamb rack served with fresh
ratatouille, a mound of mashed potatoes and a meat glacé.
My companion opted for the Mediterranean-influenced menu, requesting
a grilled escolar in a sesame-seed sauce, served atop a bed of
caramelized onions.
The lamb was moist, tender and cooked precisely to my medium-rare
request. However, I was unimpressed with the breaded coating,
which added a vague hint of rosemary and little else except for
a slightly unpleasant grainy sensation. The lamb itself was so
good I would've preferred its taste uncorrupted by other flavors.
This was nonetheless a stunning ensemble, aided by the accompanying
ratatouille (a fine dice of eggplant, tomato, green pepper and
onion lightly herbed with oregano and garlic cooked tender-crisp)
and a plate of sautéed, julienned carrot, green beans and
yellow squash.
The white-fleshed escolar (similar to swordfish) was equally
scrumptious, moistly fresh and subtly enhanced by a permeating
yet light sesame butter. The caramelized onions were sweet and
slightly smoky, providing a savory contrast to this mild fish.
Our only lingering complaint was that some of the food was a
tad too salty. Both my companion and I (who certainly aren't strangers
to the salt shaker) noted an increased sodium level in many of
Daniel's dishes. While no deterrent to the enjoyment of our meal,
diners on restricted diets would do well to inquire before ordering.
Our evening concluded with one of the most delectable desserts
I've ever tasted, a signature molten chocolate truffle cake with
a scoop of vanilla bean gelato. Thirty minutes preparation time
must be allowed for this cake, so either plan ahead or settle
in for a bit of a wait. Either way, you won't be sorry. The cake
arrives warm and practically steaming, sprinkled with powdered
sugar and surrounded by a decorative berry purée, fresh
strawberries, and the gelato. One fork into the diminutive cake
and the whole collapses slightly around the "molten"
pudding core, all of it exuding a semi-sweet chocolate character
so dense and dark you'd swear you were at the center of a chocolate
universe.
The experts are right. When it comes to restaurants, Tucson is
not New York or L.A. But we do have mountains, glorious sunsets
and Daniel's. I think we got the better part of the bargain.
Daniel's Restaurant. 4340 N. Campbell Ave., Suite 107.
742-3200. Open for dinner daily at 5 p.m. Full bar, V, MC, AMEX, checks. Menu items: $5.95-$28.50.
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