I’ve always drawn a pretty clear line between the roll of a blogger, and that of a reviewer. A reviewer has the resources and the journalistic obligation to visit a place repeatedly, ideally in secret to review the food.  They wait until the restaurant has found it’s footing a bit, and use their very loud bullhorn to provide what is hopefully a balanced, fair, long term view.  In contrast, a blogger usually only catches a snapshot of the place, on one particular night, with one server, and maybe a few dishes.  We aren’t as beholden to the journalistic standards of a true critic.  However, I’ve always thought it was important to provide full disclosure, and explain when you were their, and how representative one meal is of an experience.

I mention all of this because Flour + Water, the hot new Italian restaurant that has popped up is mere blocks from my Mission District (or rather, MisPoHo) apartment.  They’re priced very reasonably and reserve most of their table for walk-ins. The result of all of this is that I have had the rare opportunity to go a review critic’s standard three times, and graze my way across the menu.  My fully formed conclusion: Flour + Water is a stellar addition to the neighborhood, and strives in every dish to present unfussy, impeccably prepared Italian food.  Every time a plate is dropped in front of my my eyes go wide with excitement, and my stomach grumbles with hunger.  I have my favorites, but I have yet to have a dish fail.

Above is the lamb’s tongue, served with mustard potatoes, salsa verde, and a poached egg – one of my favorites on the menu.  But I’m getting way ahead of myself. When I went in for dinner recently, I arrived at around five thirty.  It was before the usually evening onslaught of hungry diners, and the place was mostly empty.  I grabbed a stool at the bar, and ordered at Big Daddy IPA (on tap, along with Trumer Pils.)  The interior is gorgeous – decorated with richly stained wood, art, stained glass and Paxton’s Gate oddities, the space is both warm and curious. I particularly like the single piece that makes up the communal table.

While I waited for my friend to arrive, the staff was kind enough to let me poke my into the very small (but amazing efficient) kitchen.  The space is cramped and crowded, clean and organized.  The kitchen staff was typical of what you find in most any local kitchen – warm, inviting, and eager to test the limits of good taste in humor. The walk in cooler is packed with the made-fresh-daily goodies that eventually make up the plates.

Back in the kitchen, the stove quickly filled up with skillets as the orders come in.  Each station works independently, but finished in sync to make sure every plate makes it’s way to your table at the same time.  From the inside it’s a tightly run machine – from the outside, particularly if you’re standing in the way trying to take pictures, it’s barely controlled chaos.

Especially impressive is the pizza oven.  This tiny little brick and stone beast contains a raging fire that cooks each pizza to perfection.  Every pie constantly babysat by a cook, is rotated during regularly, and the bottom crust is obsessively checked for doneness. Then (my favorite part) once the crust has set enough to hold it, the pizza is lifted to the roof of the oven for a final blast of heat to ensure the cheese and other ingredients have the right golden brown and delicious finish. Then they are evacuated to a plate, topped with any finishing items, sliced, and sent out.  There seems to always be another pizza waiting in the wings for its turn in the heat.  All of this obsessing and fidgeting is reflecting the the finished pie – I have yet to have one that is less than great.

By now my buddy Damian was waiting for me with his own beer, and I was good and hungry.  We finally sat down and ordered. More beer was had while we waited.  I should mention the wine list is nicely balanced and affordable, and the bartenders have all been helpful when ordering it.  But on a warm day, with afternoon sun coming in through the high windows, beer was the way to go.

Then, the food started to arrive.

The lamb’s tongue is the only dish I had tried before, and insisted on getting again.  The tongue is lamb-y and rich, off set by the mustard on the potatoes.  The runny yolk adds a rich indulgent sauce to the plate.  Both times I’ve had it, the yolk was perfectly cooked. (See! multiple visits means I can comment on consistency!)

Figs with pork trotters.  It’s finally fig season again (yay!) and these ones were sweet and juicy.  The pi’s trotters were breaded and fried, and reminded me of great carnitas.  A simple salad, but it didn’t need anything else.

Pappardelle with oxtail – the standout star of the evening.  The oxtail could have passed for shredded short ribs, and the rich, silky sauce was a great topping for the fresh pasta.

Fried peppers.  Nothing special, until we got to the bottom of the dish to find bits of lemon rind, which brightened the overall flavors and brought it together.

Lastly, the calamari pie.  The crust was great, with a great balance of blistered crunch and chewy innards. The calamari was well cooked, and the fresh seasonal tomatoes screamed summer produce.  I just didn’t fall head over heels for it like I did the last pie I had from them – but it’s not a fair comparison, seeing what a sucker I am for house made pancetta.  Even without finishing the pizza, we were so full that we could barely waddle out of the restaurant.

Flour + Water continues to impress, and I’m excited to watch the menu shift with the seasons over the coming months.  Just please – don’t tell your friends about it.  It’s too crowded as it is.

Tags: Flour + Water, mission, pizza

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 15th, 2009 at 5:48 pm and is filed under Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.