Puget Sound Business Journal (Seattle), Friday, September 19, 2008

Enotria's Chef Hahne earns trust with attention to detail

Incidentals: Major credit cards accepted; parking on street and behind the building; no barriers to access.

Executive summary: Self-described as "rustic Italian," but with considerably more flair than that suggests. A friendly neighborhood place both casual and romantic. Go.

Never did we think we would start a review talking about a beet salad. But hey, this one was that good. And it says something about Enotria, a little charmer of a restaurant on Northeast 45th Street near University Village in Seattle.

The vegetables were lined up like precious stones on a necklace — alternating chunks of Chioggia beets, paper-thin cucumber cut the long way, Easter radish slices, orange pieces and dabs of creamy goat cheese. A basalmic reduction squiggled around the edges made the plate look like a dessert.

It was all there: color, a range of textures and great flavors.

My companion, a true salad hound, said with a sigh, "The word for this is exquisite." The same could be said for the roasted pear cake, topped with mascarpone gelato, pear brandy caramel and powdered sugar.

Nearly everything, including the rustic bread, many of the pastas and all the desserts were house-made at Enotria, a name that sounds wine-related but is meant to convey "of the earth."

This is the first venture of chef David Hahne and hostess Amber Luton since they moved here from Minneapolis. He's the tall, slender, intense guy in the open kitchen — the centerpiece of the restaurant's sleek design She's the bubbly greeter up front. She describes the food as "kind of rustic Italian," which is true as it relates to the intense flavors but understates Hahne's artistry.

For another example, check out the grilled octopus appetizer ($10). Chickpeas, arugula and diced tomatoes went well with the smoky flavor of the headliner, and preserved lemon and a rich lemon-infused olive oil made them all better.

The menu follows the Italian format: antipasti (appetizers, $8-14), insalata (salads, $9-$12), primi (pastas, risottos and gnocchi, $15-$20) and secondi (meat and fish entrées, $22-29). Cappellacci are little pasta envelopes that were stuffed with bright orange butternut squash and coated with brown butter. Pan-fried sage leaves added crunch and a pleasing savory edge. House-made tagliatelle with half a dozen wild shrimp was perfectly cooked and had just enough of a garlicky tomato sauce with a devilish hint of ginger.

Picking an entrée can be tough, because the menu — as any good menu should — makes all the choices sound unusual and appealing. Judging from our random selections, they might well be.

Seared squab ($26) featured firm, slightly salty, dark meat paired with a glorious summer risotto with fresh English peas, sautéed pea vines and a fried quail egg.

Copper River sockeye salmon ($27) had a peppery crust and sat on a layer of grilled yellow squash, red endive and asparagus, all in a reddish brown rhubarb sauce. Our table's reaction to the sauce was split: One person thought it added a nice taste of the season, the other said no, too sweet. And the salmon, good as it was with its blackened crust, was slightly undercooked.

OK, so Enotria's not perfect. But it's the best neighborhood place we've seen in a good while, casual enough for men to wear shorts and families to bring kids, but still romantic after dark, when tea candles sparkle off the gold-sponged pale blue walls.

Luton sets a welcoming tone. Her enthusiasm seemed over the top on our first visit, but on our second visit made us feel like old friends. She's genuinely nice. And Hahne's serious face breaks into warm smiles when customers stop by to say hello.

Wines are choice, but pricey. We wish there were more by the glass. After an Italian red for $7, the rest were $10-$12 — and for not a particularly generous pour.

Some of the other prices seem a bit high …until you see and taste what you get.

A case in point: the Sottocenere, a truffled cheese appetizer. It's just three small pieces of pecorino wrapped in chard— at most six bites for $8. But those bites! And then there's the beckoning pool of brown butter and truffle oil, delicious on that chewy bread.

Right there, he had us. Hahne is the kind of inventive, careful chef who quickly earns your trust.

Later we took a wistful look back at the menu and spotted many things to try. Here's one — "Grilled Scallop Salad" with white beans, greens, raisins, capers and pine nuts in basil vinaigrette. Yes, it's $26, but we're convinced that it will be worth it. And that we need to go back.

Questions for DAVID HAHNE

Favorite cooking utensil: Tongs. If I were a cowboy in the wild, wild West, that's what I would be carrying.

Favorite comfort food: Braised meat served with mashed potatoes or creamy polenta

Favorite spice: Nutmeg — worked with an Italian guy who put it on everything

Three things always in your refrigerator/pantry: Bottle of wine or champagne, capers, Dijon mustard

Favorite cooking/chef movie: "The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover"

When you were a child, you wouldn't eat: Mom's homemade tomato soup

One of our anonymous reviewers regularly visits a Puget Sound-area restaurant unannounced. The Puget Sound Business Journal pays for all meals. Opinions expressed here are strictly those of the reviewer. The Q&A was conducted by Business Journal staff following the review.

Seattle Post-Intelligencer, Friday, February 21, 2008

Italian food lovers, make room for Enotria

By Leslie Kelly   
Special to The P-I

There is no Nonna in David Hahne's family tree. Still, you'd never guess there was no Italian blood fueling his inspired preparations of Italian cuisines in his kitchen at Enotria.

Hahne, a transplant from the Twin Cities, opened Enotria last fall in the space that was Union Bay Cafe for more than 30 years. He and his significant other, Amber Luton — Enotria's gracious greeter, occasional server and buser — introduced a menu of Italian-influenced dishes that spin contemporary and effectively incorporate local ingredients. Diners shouldn't form attachments to any favorites, though, as the menu is a moving target, constantly changing.

I'd return to Enotria in a Firenze minute for a bowl of steaming ribollita, the underappreciated Tuscan bread soup. This hearty vegetable soup of cannellini beans, leeks and tomatoes doesn't get bogged down in an overload of too much bread gone soggy; its lightness seems to straddle the gap between winter and spring. Sadly, I haven't seen it on the menu since my first dinner, a meal that ranks as one of the most enjoyable I've experienced in a long time.

The evening started with a spur-of-the-moment call to see about snagging a table on a Saturday when I found myself in Laurelhurst. Luton sounded downright neighborly when saying, "Sure, come on in."

The dining room is split into equal parts — east and west — which gives an intimate feel, even if the tables are a bit tight. The servers and the busy buser seem to constantly bob and weave to avoid each other, a fascinating dance to watch.

In addition to the extensive menu of antipasti, salads, dinner-plate-size pizzas, pastas and entrees, there is a raft of daily specials.

Like many restaurants, Enotria encourages sharing. Servers deftly divvy up salads and pastas tableside, a thoughtful gesture I haven't experienced since, well, a trip to Italy. Grazie to Enotria for reintroducing this old-school tradition to our small-plates nation.

However, if I had it to do over, I'm not sure I'd be willing to share the pork-sausage-stuffed tortellini, made in house and absolutely incredible. The fennel-spiked sausage was assertively seasoned so there was no chance it was going to melt into the background tucked into the tender pasta pockets. A simple tomato-cream sauce complemented rich tortellini.

It's easy to go for a one-two pork punch, as the entrees often feature the slightly gamy, rambling, ranch-raised boar. (Hahne gets a meat merit badge for not labeling it "wild," as so many menus misleadingly do in Seattle.)

Boar-sausage-stuffed pork tenderloin was sublime, the sausage keeping the lean loin from drying out as it roasted. A chestnut honey drizzle, roasted pears and a Treviso raddichio gave the plate contrasting sweet and bitter notes.

During my second dinner, Enotria was offering three courses for $30, part of the New Urban Eats promotion. On a Sunday evening, the restaurant was filled with families. The youngest diner at my table was excited to see pizza on the menu. After trying a couple of bites of Caesar, though, she scooted the plate in my direction, saying it tasted "too authentic." I agreed, and give the kitchen a big green thumbs up. I'm so tired of Caesars dumbed down to appeal to mainstream palates. Bring on the garlic and anchovies. I also appreciated that the crisp, cold romaine was torn, not chopped.

The Uva is another winning salad, a tangle of pleasantly bitter greens including arugula, escarole and, yup, those are dandelion greens. They're dressed in a roasted-grape vinaigrette. Walnut-crusted goat cheese sits on top.

That evening's featured main courses included a nicely done butternut squash ravioli and grilled swordfish in an orange-caper-leek sauce. But the side of porcini risotto stole the fish's thunder. The Arborio rice had a pleasantly chewy texture that only accentuated the earthy character of the mushrooms. I'd love to see that risotto become a permanent fixture on the menu.

Portion sizes are reasonable at Enotria, smaller than the supersize helpings at many restaurants. Which sets the stage for dessert, whose options are presented to the table on a small tray. Unlike the rest of the novel menu, the kitchen plays it safe for the final course. Nothing wrong with that. The apple tart, a bittersweet chocolate cake and tiramisu were rock-solid renditions, if not particularly memorable. I hoped for something more ambitious from a kitchen turning out impressive veal braciole, a juniper-marinated venison loin and pasta emboldened by guanciale, the uncured bacon made from pig's jowls. (I got a kick out of watching servers describing this offbeat meat, using hand gestures to demonstrate where the jowls are.)

Seafood played a starring role during another dinner, the opening act a magnificent antipasto for two that featured lovely Kusshi oysters dressed in a Meyer lemon-caper relish, seared tuna dusted with fennel pollen (which looked pretty, but didn't really add much flavor), bites of oven-roasted potato-crusted sablefish (also known as black cod), grouper ceviche and exceptionally sweet grilled shrimp on a skewer. This collection was as pretty as it was fresh-from-the-sea delicious.

After sharing the ample starter and splitting a terrific warm beet and roasted pear salad, our party of two opted for pasta as an entree. The gnocchi was as tender as a potato dumpling can possibly be, barely there. Yet it was still substantial enough to bear the intense boar ragu flavored with a hint of bittersweet chocolate.

The cannelloni was only all right, the chopped chicken a bit too chunky to qualify as a mousse and not chunky enough to work as pulled chicken. The béchamel was a rare weak spot in the kitchen's quiver of stellar sauces, lacking the classic tarragon twist.

During dinner, the restaurant was slammed, and service went from relaxed and attentive to somewhat frenetic. Quiet conversation became impossible. When a table nearby got up after paying its tab, one woman leaned over to assure me: "Now you can have a little peace and quiet."

Not likely. Not as the word gets out that this restaurant is worth adding to any Italian food lover's list of to-do dining destinations.

Post-Intelligencer food critics arrive unannounced and pay for all meals and services. Contact Leslie Kelly at leslie.dines@gmail.com.

© 1998-2008 Seattle Post-Intelligencer

Original article

The Seattle Times, Friday, February 1, 2008

Enotria, an attractive newcomer in Laurelhurst

By Providence Cicero   
Special to The Seattle Times

"I didn't expect everyone to be so dressed up," my friend hissed. "I'm wearing jeans." We had just stepped through the curtains framing Enotria's front door and were standing in the spacious slate foyer next to a reception desk where a vase of coral roses bloomed.

"The hostess is, too," I muttered back, but saw reflected in the handsome mirrored dining room some of the most dressed-up diners you are likely to find in Seattle: men in ties and women in well-cut suits that accentuated their perfect postures and sleek coiffures. With impeccable table manners, they lifted aperitifs to painted lips and nibbled daintily at salad or fish.

But another cohort frequents this attractive Laurelhurst newcomer as well. Relaxed and animated, they swirl chianti in big-bowled stemware; fork into duck meatballs, rabbit loin and wild-boar cheeks; and aren't fazed by the oily fingers that result after raising a slice of pizza from plate to mouth.

That Enotria attracts both camps is greatly to the credit of owners David Hahne and Amber Luton, late of Minneapolis. She is the effusive, occasionally denim-clad hostess with the Julia Roberts smile; he is the tall, taciturn chef at the helm of the exposed kitchen, his frowning intensity visible to all.

Hahne's Italian-inspired menu changes often. It is lengthy and ambitious, and if some things don't quite succeed, there is merit in the effort.

A quartet of seafood antipasti kicks off the bill of fare. That shareable platter ($28.95) might include Kumamoto oysters, Dungeness crab cakes, pancetta-wrapped sea scallops, seared ahi or sautéed shrimp. The menu doesn't say so, but the server did: Each item also can be ordered individually for $10.

The shrimp are a distant kin to clams casino, their butterflied bodies packed with breadcrumbs jazzed with anchovy and capers. One bite transported me 3,000 miles and 30 years back in time, to a Greenwich Village joint with red-checked tablecloths. The red sauce — sweet, tart and thick with pine nuts and raisins — restored me to the present.

Good things kept coming in threes among the antipasti. Foie gras imparts a welcome gaminess to duck meatballs tempered with sage and painted with an inky blood-orange glaze. As for the bite-size tricorn bundles of Sottocenere, a truffle-flecked cheese wrapped in a chard leaf, I'm still dreaming about them. The musky scent tantalizes first; the cheese is pliant and the chard crispy at the edges; nutty-brown butter completes the seduction.

Rabbit loin stuffed with rabbit sausage was a rare disappointment among these small plates — and I do mean rare: The sausage packed into the tender rosy loin tasted undercooked. Presented on a bed of red chard and dabbed with a smoky tomato sauce, the circular slice resembled a terrine with a rim that was tough and rubbery.

After debating whether to segue to pizza or a salad, we opted to have our greens on top of a pizza. Good move. Buffala mozzarella and house-cured duck prosciutto join arugula on a brittle flatbread crust; the cheese is subtly smoked, the duck as slender as anchovies but with a chewy bite and bold flavor closer to jerky. The same creamy house-smoked mozzarella added interest to an excellent bowl of tomato-sauced penne pasta tossed with eggplant and red bell pepper.

The best dishes benefit from a nimble balance of vigorous flavors. Preserved lemon, fennel and bitter dandelion greens electrify a shrimp risotto that pleases even though it doesn't quite achieve the creamy coalescence of the Venetian ideal. Fennel and preserved lemon meet again as a foil for crisply seared pink grouper. Fennel infuses its light broth; lemon spikes its feisty green-olive tapenade.

Grouper was among "Secondi," or main courses, the section of the menu that seems to vary most from day to day. This is good news for the restaurant's regulars; they aren't likely to get bored. There is usually a steak and frequently lamb chops; veal, pork and duck take turns. You might come upon wild-boar chops one night, its cheeks another.

I recommend those chubby cheeks, a pair as soft as a baby's, glistening in a bittersweet balsamic glaze and propped on creamy polenta enriched with Gorgonzola. Lamb chops are equally comforting. Slender bones raised like elegant pinkies, medium-rare flesh encased in savory breadcrumbs, they perch on a cannellini bean stew — a dense and delectable mingling of legume and vegetables brightened with gremolata.

Lemon tart stood out on the votive-lit silver dessert tray, crowded with tiramisu, panna cotta, chocolate cake and more. Served warm with lemon sorbet and a crisp, dried, sugared lemon slice, it was an invigorating finale to a meal that unfolded at a measured pace.

Enotria's staff has an instinct for timing; they know when to banter and when to recede. They know the menu and can offer advice on wine. Should you decide on a cocktail (do try the Renaissance, a riff on the classic brandy Sidecar), they'll give you time to savor it. If you tarry after dinner, over tea or an espresso, no one shoos you away. It's a good sign when so many are so loath to leave. I was among them.

original article

Reviews of David's previous restaurants

Pane Vino Dolce

‘This place has such a lock on perfectly executed Tuscan cuisine that it’s surpassed cult status’
City Pages

‘The simple, perfectly executed Italian food is absolutely worth it.’
Minnesota Monthly

‘The fragrant aroma wafting from the kitchen is your first clue that an exquisite culinary experience awaits.’
travel.yahoo.com

‘This Italian bistro’s cooking is authentic and robust.’
Minneapolis St Paul Magazine

‘Disarming Italian eatery with rich cuisine’
City Search

Cavé Vin

‘When you’re in the mood for some moules (mussels), frites, or other bistro fare, Cavé Vin is a solid standout in a metro area thin on classic French food. From the exacting folks who brought us Pane Vino Dolce, Cavé Vin is long on value and authenticity, just as its sibling is. The space is snug, minimalist—almost Parisian.’
Minneapolis St Paul Magazine

‘Frog’s legs and Vin du Pays, frites and aioli, escargot and pot de crème—this duskily lit Provencal cavern of a restaurant serves everything you love from the garlic-and-passion tradition of French life, and does it under-budget, cheerfully, and well.’
City Pages