By the Secret Diner –
From my last review, did you figure out where Mrs. Secret Diner and I ate breakfast? We were at the Golden Egg Cafe at 2009 E. Main Street, Ventura. Do give them a try. Tell them The Secret Diner sent you.
Now for my latest review – can you figure out where we ate dinner?
For our next dining adventure, a meal to quell the Sunday scaries, Mrs. Secret Diner and I headed east — all the way to the far east. We each grew up on very midwestern diets — meat and potatoes, dairy. Our mothers are especially picky eaters, and we sometimes wonder how we came to be such foodies, enjoying both home cooking standards and more exotic flavors, textures, and techniques.
While our meal choices this particular evening weren’t the most adventurous on the menu, I know Mrs. Secret Diner’s mom would pinch her face into a wince at the complex and rich umami flavors in my dish. My mom might have to douse the turmeric and spice of Mrs. Diner’s choice with a blizzard of salt.
As we walked a block to the restaurant, a setting sun scratched red scars into thin clouds. January sunsets here, we’ve learned, are the most spectacular. And the best sunsets are seasoned with clouds. Even before ordering, Monday felt thousands of miles away.
A pair of metallic, two-topped tables offered outside seating under a large canvas awning painted with the cafe’s name and a steaming bowl of pho. On our first date, Mrs. Secret Diner and I slurped pho at a wonderful place in St. Louis’s Central West End, a meal almost as perfect as the supper club meal we wrote about a few issues back! While we didn’t go for the soup on this visit, I definitely dog-eared my Secret Diner journal to this page, a reminder for the next birthday or anniversary.
We pulled open a glass door and entered a brightly lit dining room. We were invited to choose seating from among high tops along the wall or various table-chair configurations throughout the dining room. We selected a high top near the bar and pulled paper menus from where they stood, bookended by bottles of sriracha and hoisin sauce.
Our server brought a clear plastic boat with chopsticks, paper napkins, and those shoe-shaped soup spoons. She took our drink order: two Sapporos. Mrs. Diner asked about the drink advertised with a mini-chalkboard on our table — Soju. This is a Korean liquor infused with a variety of fruits and flavors. We ordered the lychee, a drink at which our parents would surely turn up their noses.
Table tops are a marble laminate with metal chairs in a matte black finish. In the corner opposite the bar, patrons can sit on a wooden bench nestled in a burst of cherry blossom for a photo. TVs streamed a hypnotizing medley of cooking shows — beautiful chefs preparing beautiful food. The bar has room for four to sit and sip drinks and talk easily over, curiously enough, a playlist of country music.
Our server returned with our drinks and took our order: chicken pot stickers to start, rice in clay pot for me, and wings and fried rice for Mrs. Secret Diner. We toasted the waning weekend with a shot of Soju. The sip was sweet, floral, smooth — no fiery alcohol bite. Pleasant.
The pot stickers, stuffed full and fried crispy, poised us for a most delicious meal. We clumsily dunked the dumplings in a sauce flavored with coriander, green onion, and sesame seed. Our entrees arrived piping hot. In fact, I was warned to take special caution with mine, for it is served quite hot.
The midwest in me could have doused my plate with soy, but I chose a dollop of hoisin instead. Wise choice as the tangy sweet glaze deepened the flavor of black mushroom, elevated the bamboo and chicken to something transcendent.
If your idea of a chicken wing has a lineage beginning in Buffalo, comes with buckets of beer, fries, and blue cheese, I challenge you to watch the Super Bowl in this cafe. Order the teriyaki wings with a bottle of Soju. You will not, I promise, be disappointed. Teriyaki can be overly saccharin, but not these bites. They were the star of Mrs. Diner’s plate, and I might have snuck a second when she wasn’t looking. Her rice was golden with turmeric, mild and savory.
It is rare for us to bring home leftovers, but our portions were large and we did bring home a box with some rice we couldn’t finish. Under an over-easy egg the next morning it made a wonderful breakfast.
Everything from the charming service to the beachy-themed restroom was perfect. And, the cherry on top, our entire meal including drinks and a starter was only fifty dollars and change! Similar Secret Diner dinners have been twice that!
Any idea which restaurant this was?
In each issue of the Ventura Breeze newspaper, Mrs. Secret Diner and I review a local eatery – can you guess where we ate? Put on your detective cap and check the next review, when all will be revealed!
