Rockin' New Year's eVe

New Year's Eve is one of those nights where it seems imperative to have spectacular, fun-filled plans. For the past couple of years, Mark and I have gone to some pretty cool parties - one smallish one and one really big one. The only problem with going out on NYE is that it leaves us little (or no) energy for the big party on New Year's Day - the Space Cowboys' annual throw-down known as Breakfast of Champions. The virtues of BOC are many - it goes all day (from 6 am to 9 pm), it's cheap ($10), the music is great, and many of our friends are usually there. And let's not forget the *really* important thing: free bacon. This year there was the added bonus of a change of venue to Kelly's Mission Rock, out near AT&T Park, which features easy public trans and gorgeous water views.

The last two years, we were either too tired from staying up all night to make it very far into BOC, or we didn't make it at all. This year we decided to do something different and keep it low-key on New Year's Eve so we would have energy to go all day on the first. We decided to do what we do best: eat well.

I had recently read about the opening of a new restaurant in Berkeley called eVe that sounded really interesting. The owners, husband and wife team Christopher and Veronica Laramie, are both Le Cordon Bleu Paris graduates and recently relocated here from Colorado to open eVe. Their website describes the cuisine as 'avant garde.' This totally piqued our interest because last year, Mark got me the Alinea cookbook for Christmas. Alinea is a restaurant in Chicago started by Grant Achatz, a French Laundry alum and winner of the 2008 James Beard Foundation Award for Outstanding Chef, who is at the forefront of molecular gastronomy. The Alinea menu features such mind-blowing items as a PB&J made out of a peeled grape with the stem still attached, encapsulated in peanut butter and wrapped in a tiny piece of baguette. Since we are probably never going to make it to Chicago, and the only other avant garde restaurant I know in the Bay Area (Daniel Patterson's Coi) is out of our price range, eVe is our best bet for trying experimental cuisine.

All courses at eVe are $11, which makes the math of eating there rather easy. There's a three course pre-fixe for $33 or a five course one for $55. Or you can just order a la carte in whichever order you want. Want to start with dessert and end with a starter? No problem. For New Year's Eve, they were offering a five course pre-fixe with a small bottle of Champagne for $65 - so pretty much normal prices on a night when most places were jacking things way up. This kind of sealed the deal for us. Plus, what could be more appropriate than celebrating New Year's Eve at a place called eVe?

The restaurant is located on a block of University Avenue (between Martin Luther King and Milvia) that's undergoing a culinary makeover - all spurred on by Christopher Blue's Chocolatier Blue, which opened there a year and a half ago. It turns out that Blue worked with Veronica Laramie at Charlie Trotter's in Chicago, and he told the couple to check out the vacant space two doors down from his place. The block is also home to Octoberfeast, which makes Bavarian-inspired bread products (including an incredibly yummy-sounding pretzel croissant that I haven't tried yet, but must) and a Greek joint called Athineon. At least I know where I'm going the next time I get my oil changed at the Firestone on Milvia and University.

The first thing that strikes me about eVe is that it's tiny. Only 28 seats in the place, which makes for an intimate dining experience. The second thing that it's much more brightly lit than I expected. Somehow when I hear 'avant garde,' I also expect dimly lit and ultra modern. While the furnishings and color scheme (one bright green wall in the back juxtaposed against three whites ones) are modern, the lighting is more like what you would expect in the hole-in-the-wall Thai place down the street. I later overhear a customer say something to one of the owners about the lighting, and I am pretty sure I heard him say was that the lights aren't dimmable because they're CFLs. So if that's the case, good on them for caring more about the environment than the aesthetics. Ultimately, people will come for the food, not the decor, anyway. The thing that I like the best about the space is that the kitchen is right out in the open, in the back of the restaurant. And luckily for us, our table was right next to the kitchen. Now, some people may think that being put back near the kitchen is a bad place to be, but I love it there. I like being close to where the magic happens.



And there is all kinds of magic happening at eVe. The first course is a single Kumamoto oyster topped with yuzu, cucumber and cilantro, and accompanied by a tiny glass of mahi mahi ceviche and taro. I am not a huge oyster person, so I haven't much to say about that part other than it tasted like an oyster. The mahi mahi, however, was delicious. Just the right balance of saltiness and tang from the lime. We were off to a good start.

After the first course, our first round of bread arrived: house-made little potato rolls with butter whipped so light it almost seemed like it wasn't bad for you. The rolls were warm and just the right size as to tide you over to the next course but not so big as to interfere with your appetite. And fresh ones would make an appearance between all the savory courses.



Course #2 paired a sous-vide egg on a bed of leek, an oyster mushroom steak and a mushroom consomme topped with a parmesan tuille. Sous-vide (French for "under vacuum") is a method of cooking in which the ingredients are cooked in airtight plastic bags under water which is heated to well below boiling at a very low temperature for a very long time. The theory is that this method best allows the ingredients to maintain their integrity through the cooking process. To my knowledge, it was the first time I'd eaten a sous-vide anything. The egg, which had the appearance of a poached one, was the creamiest I've ever had. I never even thought of an egg as something that could be described as creamy, other than the chocolate ones you get at Easter with the sugary filling. The oyster mushroom had a very meaty texture, which Mark loved because it's probably about as close to steak as he's ever going to get. And the Parmesan tuille was just heaven in a little crispy, salty wafer. Sometimes when we cook with Parmesan we get little bits of burnt cheese in the pan and we fight over who gets to 'clean up' the cheese. The tuille is just like that. Basically, it *is* just that, only on purpose and not by accident, and much more pretty.



Course #3 was so artfully presented that it almost seemed a shame to eat it. Almost - but since it was the lobster course and lobster's one of my favorite foods, it really was not that difficult. The plating featured a small piece of lobster tail in the center, surrounded by one lobster-filled ravioli, a slice of citrus, braised leeks, Pernod foam and an encapsulated olive. Encapsulated, meaning it wasn't an actual olive. But it looked like an olive and was filled with liquid that tasted like an olive
and certainly made you believe it was an olive - albeit the creamiest olive you ever had in your entire life. And 'olive,' much like 'egg,' is a word that doesn't usually go with 'creamy.' See? I told you molecular gastronomy was like magic.



And then just when I thought it couldn't get any better, course #4 arrived: duck with farro, parsnips and prunes. I think that whomever invented the word 'succulent' did so after having a bite of this duck. Holy moly, it was fabulous: a bit on the rare side with a beautiful ridge of carmelized fat. The tartness of the prune was a good accompaniment to the richness of the duck. I'm sure the other stuff on the plate was tasty too, but I was too enthralled with the perfection of the duck to pay too much attention to anything else.



I ask you, is there a more perfect way to end a decadent meal than with dark chocolate? I didn't think so, and Veronica Laramie agrees. And like all of the other dishes at eVe, dessert is a riot of contrasting and complimentary flavors. A rich, dark chocolate ganache is topped with tart passion fruit seeds and accompanied by sweet bananas and ridiculously decadent black truffle ice cream. It's one of those dishes that is so good, you want a taste of everything in every bite - and you don't want it to end.




But like all good things, this most excellent New Year's Eve dinner had to come to an end. At least this one came with parting gifts. We were each presented with a little pound cake (wrapped in cellophane with a thank you note attached) to take home. Quite a sweet touch. Unfortunately, the cake itself was a bit underwhelming. It was a tad on the dry side, but nothing a quick dip into a cup of coffee didn't cure. And it's not like I'm going to complain about the completely free bonus item I wasn't even expecting. That's like finding a dollar on the ground and grumbling that it wasn't a five spot.

As you can tell from the pictures, the portion sizes are small. This is not necessarily a bad thing. We were completely satisfied with our five courses. Not stuffed, but happy. We have a tendency to order more food than we need just because it sounds good - and then we eat it because it's there, even though we're already full. So the forced portion control was good for us. Though I would warn you that if you're looking for a place where you can stuff yourself into a food coma, this isn't it.

A quick word about the service. As eVe is a tiny restaurant, so is the staff. There are four of them: the two chefs, one waiter and one dishwasher. On the night we were there, the dishwasher didn't show up, so the other three had to pick up the slack. There was a bit of a lag time between courses, but it wasn't so noticeable as to be annoying. It just gave you more time to savor what you just ate and to build up anticipation for the next course. I'm not sure if it was just for the evening or if this is a regular occurrence, but the chef came by our table with each course to tell us what everything was. It was a really nice, personal touch - and it shows how much he cares about what he's doing.

Our dinner took a little over two hours, and we savored every minute of it. We left eVe knowing that we had made the right decision of how to spend the evening. We may have opened the new decade with Breakfast of Champions, but the last night of 2009 was all about eVe.

The deets: eVe, 1960 University Avenue, Berkeley. Open Tuesday-Saturday, 5:30 to 10:00 p.m. Phone: 510.868.0735. On the web at www.eve-restaurant.com. Vegetarians or those with dietary restrictions are encouraged to call ahead and let them know, so they can accommodate you. Menu changes almost daily.