Baum Vivant (July 25, 2003)

Pittsburgh, PA

When time is precious, it's time to splurge.

Shortly after last year's September vacation in the Napa Valley, we conceived twin boys. Since then, epic gluttony has taken a back seat to doctor visits, planned (and unplanned) hospital visits, the birth in May, and a complete and utter lack of sleep. The boys are delightful, but as any parent of newborn multiples knows, the mother and father are frazzled.

Enter the mother-in-law, who volunteers to relieve the parents from Friday afternoon to Saturday afternoon. We have one day to catch up on months of missed dining opportunities, so we decide to make the most of it, and obtain reservations at Baum Vivant.

Given the aspirations of Baum Vivant's cuisine, its location is an oddity; it sits in a run-down neighborhood populated by auto shops, industrial buildings, fast food joints, and the odd strip club. It's easy enough to forget this once you're inside, as the environment is much calmer and elegant. We're escorted to our table and started off with crostini and a lemon-cilantro hummus, which is surprisingly mild.

The menu is a mix of Portuguese and French dishes, broken into appetizers and main courses. One section is devoted to caviar service, which I don't remember from previous visits; Beluga, Osetra, and Sevruga are available in one-ounce portions, at prices ranging from $40-$90. The fine print at the bottom of the second page indicates the option of a five-course tasting menu. We inquire, and it turns out it's a seven-course tasting, paired with glasses of wine for each dish. Since we're having a hard time deciding between several menu options, we let them do the hard work, and both opt for the seven-course tasting. Our waitress asked about any dietary requirements; I don't have any (other than I should be on a diet), but Stacey is staying away from nuts while breastfeeding, on the advice of her physician. This is noted, and away we go.

Tomato bisque with garlic and shallots

The first course is served in a demitasse cup, a creamy soup whose pastel pink belies its flavor. The flavors of tomato, garlic, shallots, and dill are blended perfectly, giving the soup an assertive but not overpowering flavor. One of the highlights of the meal; I would have liked a bowl of this with more crostini to mop up. It was served with a glass of very dry Portuguese white wine.

Tiger shrimp satay in peanut sauce
Crab cake with lemon-vanilla sauce

For the second course, our waitress took the liberty of giving us each a different dish, which we appreciated; however, the shrimp plate was given to Stacey and the crab cake to me. You'll note the peanut sauce and the aforementioned nut issue. We just switched plates, but had to remind the waitress when she stopped back by. She was apologetic and offered to replace the dish, so no harm, no foul. The dish was served with a slightly sweeter and fruitier Portuguese white (sorry, I didn't get the names of most of the wines, so generic descriptions will have to do).

I got a couple of bites of the crab cake before we swapped plates, and the cake itself was good, but the sauce is what pushes this dish up a level. The sauce was creamy, with just a hint of tang from the lemon, and the sweetness of the vanilla, and it worked beautifully with the crab meat.

The tiger shrimp satay was good, with large shrimp on skewers and a peanut sauce. Nothing remarkably different than what you would get at a Thai place, except in presentation.

Scallops wrapped in smoked salmon with Portuguese molho verde

What a dish. The scallop is lightly seared with a dash of black pepper on its surface, and wrapped around its side with one very thin layer of salmon, sitting in a pool of emerald sauce. Molho verde, as the server explained to us, is a blend of parsley, garlic, and shallots. The scallop was done perfectly; the slightest pressure of the fork was enough to cut the scallop and the salmon. The salmon did not have the darker brownish-red color I expected from smoking, but the smoke flavor was there all the same, and it blended beautifully with the scallop. The molho verde was much milder than its color implied, giving just a hint of parsley and garlic to round out the dish. Along with the bisque, definitely a highlight of the tasting.

Wild boar with quail egg in hazelnut sauce

I think this may have been the first time I've ever eaten wild boar. The small filet was served with a sunnyside-up quail egg on top, sitting in a pale brown translucent sauce. The boar was probably the only real disappointment of the evening; while it wasn't bad, texturally it tasted like a ground beef patty, which was jarring. On the other hand, the hazelnut sauce was interesting, very reminiscent of maple syrup. I wonder if seeing the egg made us think it tasted like syrup, and in retrospect, the entire dish visually looked more like a breakfast plate, with the egg, the "syrup", and the "sausage" appearance of the wild boar. This was served with a Portuguese red which was described as being "like a merlot", but to me tasted more like a pinot noir.

Microgreens with sprouts and lentils in orange vinaigrette

Flavorful greens and a nice dressing. Still, for a devout carnivore like me, it's a salad. What else can you say.

Shot of Campari, rum, orange juice, and strawberry juice

Before the last meat dish, we were offered this palate cleanser. Very tropical, with only the mildest hint of alcohol (I'm not a mixed drink fan, as I find even the impression of alcohol off-putting). It was a nice change of pace, and prepared the palate for the next course.

Poussin in Grand Marnier sauce with yellow pepper, candied lemon peel, green and white asparagus, and polenta

Every time I have Grand Marnier in any form, it always reminds me of Thanksgiving 1988. One of my undergraduate TAs invited me to his apartment for the traditional dinner with his family and a mutual friend. Unbeknownst to me, he was an excellent home cook, and prepared the whole nine yards himself, which even now still seems like a slightly Herculean feat.

Towards the end of the meal, we noticed that we were all getting a bit tipsy, and the wine consumption wasn't enough to account for it. He admitted his secret weapon: Grand Marnier in every dish. Aha! I've never gotten drunk from gravy before.

In any case, this was a nice trip back to that memory. Perfectly roasted bird, with surprisingly sweet candied lemon as a counterpoint to the pepper. This was served with a cabernet sauvignon.

Creme brulee

The traditional preparation. Even though I've learned how to make this in the past year, it doesn't make me appreciate it any less when someone else makes it for me. Served with a few blueberries, raspberries, and a strawberry, along with a glass of Fonseca port. I'm not sure the port really went with the creme brulee. I have mixed feelings about port; at times, there is nothing like that syrupy sweet taste at the end of a meal, and at others, it's just cloying. I haven't really figured port out yet.

An espresso, and a couple of biscotti later, and we're done with a three-hour meal. When the waitress asks how everything was, I tell her that my only regret is that the tasting was only seven courses long. How about 10? I'm a growing boy, I need my strength. A few minutes later, she returns and tells me to call ahead on my next visit, the chef's up for it. I believe we are too. Any good babysitters out there?

(originally posted on egullet.com)