Restaurants: Aqua

Frank Flannagan: Everything about you is perfect.

Ariane Chavasse: I’m too thin! And my ears stick out, and my teeth are crooked and my neck’s much too long.

Frank Flannagan: Maybe so, but I love the way it all hangs together.

– Audrey Hepburn and Gary Cooper in Billy Wilder’s 1957 film Love in the Afternoon

Sometimes the way it all hangs together is what matters. Take Audrey Hepburn, for example. Few would argue that she was beautiful. (The ones who would are idiots.) If you examine each of her features on its own – long neck, crooked teeth, willowy body – nothing is outstanding; but put them all together, and you have one of the most unconventionally gorgeous women ever captured on film.

Under the best circumstances, food is much the same way. Though quality ingredients are key, it’s different flavor combinations and methods of preparation that transform ingredients into a whole that transcends the individual parts. This sums up my problem with Aqua – it just didn’t all hang together that well.

On paper, Aqua sounds wonderful: the freshest, highest-quality ingredients; flourished presentation; a dramatic space; and an efficient, knowledgeable staff. In reality, though, my experience at Aqua left me feeling like something was, well, missing.

Things started off auspiciously with a No. 209 martini, up with olives. It was magnificent and one of the best I’ve had in a very long time; it knocked Kokkari’s martini – my former favorite – into second place on my list of all-time best cocktails. Bravo to Aqua’s bartender. (Though it didn’t hurt that he/she started out with an exquisite gin.)

When the amuse-bouche arrived at the table, it also looked promising: a diminutive morsel of fresh sardine, a demitasse cup of kabocha* squash soup with truffled creme fraiche, and a miniature tuna croquette on a bed of piquillo pepper sauce. I am not a fan of sardines, but I tried mine anyway; it didn’t sway me, though it was of fine quality. The soup tasted as lovely as it sounds. The item about which I was most excited, though – the tuna croquette – was lackluster. The texture was a bit grainy, and the flavor fell flat. The piquillo pepper sauce helped, but not enough.

Bread and butter were offered with the aforementioned flourish; our server formally presented both a regular cow’s milk butter and a sheep’s milk butter topped with crystals of sea salt, the latter of which was delicious. But as a sipped my glass of Grüner Veltliner, I wondered if such presentation of something as tertiary as butter wasn’t a bit much.

My appetizer of dungeness crab salad with meyer lemon cucumber caviar and curry poppy seed vinaigrette arrived beautifully presented – little cylinders of crab meat wrapped in thin cucumber skins and topped with cucumber “caviar”. The crab itself was excellent and (not surprisingly) paired beautifully with the cucumber. The cucumber “caviar” was marvelous and was so much like real caviar in appearance and texture that until I actually bit down and experienced its cool sweetness, I wasn’t sure if it was the genuine article. (I’m terribly curious as to how they made the tiny, delicate orbs.) I was slightly disappointed by the poppyseed curry vinaigrette; it was nice enough and didn’t detract from the dish, but it didn’t add much in the way of flavor. I wanted the curry to be a bit more pronounced. It just didn’t sing.

One of my dining companions ordered the lobster and curry kabocha squash soup with apple and mint yogurt. It was decadent, wonderfully complex, and flavorful. Heaven.

Our entrees arrived with much fanfare. Right before my eyes, mint & Marcona almond pistou was scattered across my plate by our server with artistic flair, a striking contrast to the parsley crusted monkfish rôti with baby carrot fettuccine. It was a gorgeous visual composition, and as I raised a morsel of fish to my mouth, I hoped it would taste even half as beautiful as it looked. Unfortunately, it didn’t. The fish, while delicate and perfectly cooked, didn’t have a parsley crust at all; rather, it was coated with an overcooked layer of dull green that tasted quite bland. Ever the optimist, I tried dipping another piece of fish into the pistou and the intriguing-looking orange foam that also shared the plate, hoping for redemption; no such luck. It just didn’t work. With every bite, I thought “Hmmmm.... interesting”; that’s never a good first reaction when tasting food. What did work, however, was the baby carrot fettuccine. It was wonderful, the delicate strands of carrot straddling that oh-so-thin line between luxuriously supple and disappointingly overcooked. It was by far the best part of the dish, but it shouldn’t have been.

I’m usually not one to turn down dessert, but nothing on the menu really called out to me. Many of the selections sounded overly fussy and/or featured “foam,” a dessert element of which I’m not terribly fond. Instead, I opted for the cheese plate, which I shared with one of my dining companions. We were presented with a dozen or so selections, ranging from young and mild to ripe and runny. All were very good, but the standout was a cheese that tasted much like stilton, to which I’m admittedly partial. Served with the cheese was a hazelnut and dried fruit (apricot?) bread that was especially good.

I feel the same way about Aqua’s service and decor as I do about their food – all the elements were there, but they didn’t quite gel. Our stunning, 6 ft tall, 110 lb blonde hostess, for example, was courteous and accommodating but didn’t radiate the confidence expected from the hostess of a reputable, well-established restaurant. Similarly, our server, though very knowledgeable and attentive, seemed nervous and sounded like he was about to stumble over his words at any moment. (He also failed to instruct us to taste our cheeses in order from mildest to most pungent – a glaring oversight.) And the space, with its soaring ceiling, ochre-sponged walls and immense framed mirrors, seems to lack a focal point. The dining room is also unnervingly loud, especially considering the visually-sedate surroundings. For most of the evening, I had to concentrate in order to hear our server and the three other people at the table.

All in all, my experience at Aqua was pleasant, but I expected much more from a Michelin-rated restaurant, especially one that charges $72 for a 3-course menu. If you’re lucky enough to have an unlimited entertaining budget or expense account, then by all means try Aqua. But if you’re like the rest of us who have to be choosy about expensive meals, skip it.

★ ★ 1/2

Aqua
252 California St.
San Francisco, CA 94111
(415) 956-9662

* I have tried to be as detailed as possible in this review, but since the items offered in the amuse-bouche were not on the menu, I’ve had to rely on my memory. (I was dining with a client; as such, taking notes would have been rude.)