The Omnivorous Fish

I feel like a new man. The Agent came to visit, I went home for the day, saw some family and bought a new bed. Actually, The Agent bought the new bed, but I helped pick it out. Planning for the new kitchen and other home improvement projects continues and I still have sixty three meals to eat outside major restaurant cities. I hear Hartford has some good places, any truth to this?

We went to Corks, which I mentioned before, the restaurant with the all-American wine list. The list is fascinating and extensive, with at least 200 labels, and the one wine they were out of they told us about immediately upon presenting the wine list, a very nice and impressive touch. I won’t write a full review, because I was so involved with seeing The Agent my attention was not on the food. I will, however tell you what we ate.

We split a salad with some unmemorable fried oysters. It certainly wasn’t bad, but the oysters had either been washed or were simply not that flavorful to begin with. Eating an oyster is all about taking a tender little bite of the ocean, and these were just crusty little bits; they could have been clams or pieces of chicken. The salad was dressed simply and plated with some infused and/or emulsified oils that I don’t remember as being identified, but one of them involved herbs, the other tomatoes. They were flavorful, but didn’t much help the eh-ness of the oysters. I had the duck, which was not only very good, but a sort of barometer about restaurants in Baltimore: when I ordered it, the waitress sheepishly- almost apologetically- told me that the chef recommended it be cooked medium rare to medium. The inflection told me I should at least try it medium. She looked relieved when I said he should cook it however he liked.

The duck came with better-than-average mashed potatoes and some delicately seasoned, if unseasonal psychologically, braised red cabbage. Although, since Baltimore has been having Seattle weather lately, it was actually somewhat appropriate. The meat was just on the medium side of medium rare, probably a symptom of being gun-shy with poultry in Baltimore. All in all, it was a winner.

The Agent had pork three ways: a braised belly, a terrine and a loin chop. Again, I don’t remember all the details to do it justice but I remember enough not to get it again. The terrine was dry and bland, the belly seemed more poached than braised and the chop was completely overcooked. Pork belly needs a counterpoint to its lovely fatty richness, like a crispy exterior or a strong sauce. This was just a flabby piece of pork belly.

We got the cheese plate after, again all American sundries, but not exactly chosen for diversity. There was a reblochon-ish cheese (think brie, but stronger) and two harder cheeses, much too similar to share a three-selection cheese plate. One was not unlike a good aged dubliner, but without the crystals, the other more cheddar-like and less memorable.

The restaurant has all the raw ingredients of greatness, but needs some attention. The menu advertises a chef/owner, but doesn’t specify whether he’s an executive chef or if he’s sweating the line every day. If he is, he might want to take a night off and eat at his place.

I did chat with the sommelier briefly, a lively and charming man named Chris Corker. He knew his stuff, and knew his winemakers. He told us about some of the small pinot noir producers he carries and made no secret that his restaurant was the only place you’re likely to see them in the area. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of the geography of the Central Valley and questions about the AVAs on the wine list were met with enthusiasm and thorough responses.

Short answer: I would go back if I had the time and the crowd to really do the wine list justice, and I would ask a lot more questions about the menu.

Corks

1026 S. Charles Street
Baltimore, MD 21230

410.752.3810