Review: In Trust We Trust

Soon to be classified by the FDA as a Schedule I drug.

San Diego is finally being recognized by Michelin for its burgeoning fine dining scene—about time! Some of the names being thrown around as potential star-earners are Addison, Market and George's at the Cove. After my recent visit, though, I would consider Hillcrest's Trust a dark-horse contender. Let's take a brief look at the items ordered—and how they'd rate on the brutal Michelin scale. (Zero stars can still be good, one is fantastic, two is mind-blowing, and three is so sublime that you'd plan a trip just to try it.)

Dish: Take Two & Trust Cocktail #18
Star Rating: One
Amy's drink was deliciously infused with blackberry; it was fruity, balanced, smooth—and dangerous in that it didn't taste too powerfully of vodka. Mine was stronger with fragrant bourbon, sweet and citrusy with an orangey aroma from the peel garnish.

Dish: Ricotta Agnolotti
Star Rating: Two
The decadent truffle shavings and black garlic streussel certainly helped, but the star of this agnolotti was undoubtedly the incredibly rich, cheesy garlic cream sauce—deceptively labeled simply "panna" on the menu. This sauce latched onto the dopamine receptors of my brain and wouldn't let go. I was momentarily tempted to lick the plate clean—it was that good.

Dish: Baja Hiramasa
Star Rating: One
Nearly as amazing was this crudo: a blast of Japanese flavor full of sweet, soy and sesame. The yellowtail was tender, though the flavor of the fish was hard to discern through that mouthwatering sauce. It's finished with wisp-thin rice cracker and crisp sweet slivers of Asian pear.

Dish: Wood-Grilled Lamb Meatballs
Star Rating: Zero
Meatballs aren't a favorite of mine, but this lamb iteration had good texture and a hearty, slightly gamey flavor. The yogurt tzatziki was clean and tart, augmented with vinegar and spice from the pickled Fresno chiles. Hearty umami lentils, delicious little rings of pickled shallots, and an undertone of garlic rounded out one of the lesser dishes that, tellingly, was still pretty great.

Dish: Wood-Grilled Octopus
Star Rating: One
This was an odd mix of ingredients that still worked because all the flavor elements were there. A strong but not overwhelming hit of vinegar from the olives, the salty minced pepperoni, and the parsley herbaceousness of the salsa verde combine beautifully. Textures were also a strong suit: The octopus was tender, while the lentils and legumes were pleasingly al dente, thankfully avoiding any graininess.

Dish: Maple Pecan Creme Brûlée
Star Rating: Two
At first I was a bit sad that we decided to play it safe by getting the creme brûlée. I have seldom been more wrong. Somehow, they fixed what wasn't broken. They solved creme brûlée. Their secret: a wide cup with almost as much sugar crunch as there is custard. But this is no ordinary caramelized sugar: it's thick, chunky, fully of mapley and nutty flavors. The poached pear and marscapone cream were tasty, but really just along for the ride. Bottom line: This blew the roof off of an already outstanding dinner.

Trust doesn't just settle for having a couple of great specialty dishes. Its food seems to bottom out at excellent and move up from there. If it doesn't get a Michelin star—or at least one of the group's lesser acknowledgements—it'll only prove they've got a lot to learn about San Diego dining.

Score: 10 out of 10

Happy Hour Bite: Dirty Birds

Chicken wings are the pinnacle of bar food: You can eat them with your hands, they're shareable and they're great with a beer. But there's one place in San Diego that has taken that pinnacle and airlifted some extra soil on top to create (*gasp*) an even higher pinnacle. That place is Dirty Birds.

Thirty-seven flavors. Take that in for a minute. Dirty Birds has thirty-seven discrete flavors of wings. I've been here many times, and I still haven't even tried half of them. (The ones I have tried, I've catalogued in a spreadsheet like the insufferable nerd that I am.) They're also half off during happy hour (weekdays 3–6pm), meaning you can get 10 wings for a very reasonable $7.50.

Dirty Blue and Seoul Wing, plus token veggies.

I paid a visit the other day and got two of my favorites. First was the Dirty Blue, a mix of a classic buffalo sauce and house-made blue cheese dressing. This is the most brilliant innovation in wing technology since the airfoil. Blue cheese already goes great with wings, so why not bake it in (literally) from the get-go? The result has both the spicy vinegar kick of the buffalo and the creamy pungency of the blue cheese. Every bite makes you crave the next.

I should note that they've also come up with a couple of other wonderfully balanced sauce blends. The Dirty Ranch uses ranch dressing for something a little less sharp and more creamy. The Flaming Honey Mustard's combination is a bit sweeter and also slightly spicier, probably due to a slight bite from the mustard.

My other choice, the Seoul Wing, is one of the more interesting flavors on the menu. It's a distinctly Asian-influenced sauce with notes of garlic, soy sauce, teriyaki and sesame, plus a firm but tempered dose of chile. It all comes together in an awesome amalgam of sweet, savory and spicy.

There aren't many restaurants that do one thing as thoroughly and as successfully as Dirty Birds does wings. While not every sauce is a winner, most of them are—and the absurd number of options ensures that just about anyone can find several that suit their taste.

Score: 9 out of 10 (Fantastic)

Quick Bite: Banker's Hill Bar & Restaurant

I'm running behind on write-ups! Last Sunday we had brunch at Banker's Hill Bar & Restaurant. (I'll give you one guess where it's located.) I remember them for having the best fries in the city, but all of their food pretty much knocks it out of the park.

I get the BLT (and subbed truffle fries in place of the house chips because I'm not an animal). It's a good, pretty classic sandwich, with toasty french bread, well-crisped bacon and garlic aioli for an extra flourish. The fries are, well, tremendous. They're thin-cut, matchstick style, thin and crunchy with only the occasional chew in the center. The truffle flavor is prominent without being overpowering (as is easy to do). There's just a hint of sweetness from who-knows-where, melded with crumbles of rich salty Parmesan and a bit of parsley. And then, just when you thought you'd had enough: thick, savory, buttery truffle aioli with a hint of grain mustard. Amazing. Addictive. To die for.

Amy gets an Asian pear and roasted beet salad, which comes with frisée, candied walnuts, goat cheese and a sherry vinaigrette. It's hard to order salad on a menu with so many temptations, but this is a legitimately tasty, healthy alternative. It's fresh and sweet and light. The crunch of walnuts adds a nice texture, as does the creamy goat cheese. Go for it, then sneak some fries off the plate of a more indulgent dining companion.

Note: I cannot be held responsible for what may happen if you attempt to steal these truffle fries.

We're enjoying this meal, minding our own business, when a plate lowers from the heavens containing a cinnamon roll the size of a child's head. We've made too many, they tell us. You've come to the right people for help, is what I should have said, but instead I utter a startled thank you and dig in.

This cinnamon roll is not for the faint of heart—no, really, your heart might actually faint from the caloric overload. But it's worth it. It's rich and sweet, momentarily crisp before you bite through your piece to the thick chewy center. The generous layer of icing has a hint of tang from the cream cheese, and there's a light drizzle of salted caramel over the top. I abandon my sandwich; I'll ask for a box later. This is more pressing.

Banker's Hill isn't exactly a hidden gem. It's pretty well known, but it's clearly under-appreciated; only a few other parties were there on a lovely Sunday afternoon. Go, grab some fries, and who knows? Maybe if you're lucky, the cinnamon roll fairy will smile upon you, too.

Score: 9 out of 10 (Fantastic)

Review: George's California Modern

Snapper crudo from The Fanciest George

I wanted our first anniversary dinner to be somewhere special, so we chose a place I've wanted to go for years: George's California Modern, one of the pillars of San Diego fine dining. It's the swankiest of the three George's concepts, which are stacked neatly one atop the other, all overlooking the La Jolla coastline.

As we stepped off the noisy street and through the entrance of the Fancy George's, the atmosphere immediately changed. The empty bar served as a quiet, dignified, solemn staging area. There was little indication we were in a full-service restaurant till we were led down a hall to the main dining room. Our genial server immediately congratulated us on our milestone (as would happen another half-dozen times or so over the course of the night).

Our cocktails were strong, tropical and delicious. Amy ordered an English milk punch, which was not milky in the least, but had a smoky foretaste and followed up with a hit of herbaceous pineapple. My drink, simply labeled "Tiki," was actually the creamier one thanks to the coconut. It was sweet and a bit bitter, maybe from the absinthe, with a citrusy passion fruit finish.

We got bread with three house-made spreads to start off (for $2 a person—I guess this is what pays for that prime La Jolla real estate). The Prager Brothers bread was wonderful, earthy with a healthy outer crust. Spread number one was an unsalted butter, rich and creamy, not a standout until I added a sprinkle of the accompanying craggy kosher salt, which made it a real treat. Number two was a Thai basil hummus which was, well... aggressively basil-y. Not bad, but a bit one-note. Third and most interesting was the spinach and artichoke butter, reminiscent of a Boursin-style spreadable cheese, but subtler and smoother.

I got pork belly (Drink!) as my appetizer, which was nice and tender, but exceedingly salty. In my mind, the elements of a successful dish should taste great on their own, not just when combined, but here the pork belly was much better when the salt was mellowed by the hearty, almost creamy barbecue baked beans. The crispy fried greens added a nice textural element, though I would have also liked a bit more of the pistachio for a different kind of crunch. There was plenty to enjoy here once I escaped the salt—I just shouldn't have had to in the first place.

Amy's snapper crudo was light and refreshing; the sweetness of the fish echoed in the cubes of fresh watermelon. A well-assembled bite would also include a bit of rice cracker crunch and some heat from the chile. It all rested in a creamy buttermilk sauce, unusual but satisfying. I would have liked more acidity, but I can appreciate the novel direction.

Amy's beef tenderloin appeared in the form a posh, delicious holiday dinner. The juicy, delectably tender meat was well-crusted on the outside and topped with a buttery, sweet and tangy bone marrow vinaigrette. It came with creamed kale, which we agreed should immediately replace creamed spinach worldwide; the hardier green retains some firmness through the creaming process instead of becoming a wilted mess. They may have gone a bit overboard with the root veggies, though they were well prepared; the carrots and potatoes had a lightly crisped exterior. The parsnips were nice as well, tasting halfway between the potato and carrot. It came together into something like a traditional feast in miniature.

With my duck entrée, it felt as if the chefs had designed a culinary playground—there were just so many elements that bounced off one another in interesting ways. The duck breast itself was simple enough, but it seemed destined to be paired with the preserved kumquat as a nod to duck à l'orange. If I instead grabbed some of the peanut, pickled veggies and cilantro, I got whispers of something Vietnamese. Broccoli popped up twice but in very different forms, served in florets with a nice chargrilled flavor and as a purée that brought out a slight sweetness. The heavily crisped duck leg sprinkled throughout was a joy. Most interesting of all was the green onion pain perdu, which didn't read as French toast in the least, but rather as a savory scallion brioche, fluffy but a little crisp on the outside. There was almost too much going on here, but it was undeniably unique and tasty.

I insisted on a dessert for each of us, a foolish mistake that I don't regret in the slightest.

Amy's warm chocolate tart was piled with fresh berries, black and red and gold. The chocolate was rich and dark, with a melty consistency somewhere between the inside and outside of a lava cake. Crunchy chocolate soil and a toffee-like dark chocolate tuile piled on the decadence. The crème fraiche ice cream was nothing more unusual than a standard vanilla, but it didn't have to be. Delicious.

My doughnuts and dips was like five desserts in one. The four large, fluffy donut holes were doused in sugar and designed to be dipped into one of four small ramekins: a vanilla crème brulée complete with caramelized crust, a thick chocolate custard, a sweet and deeply strawberry compote, and a tart raspberry jam. It was wonderful. I nearly died finishing it.

Having experienced George's, I can see why it's so well regarded. It's not a place to go for a casual dinner, but it is most certainly a place to go. Despite the occasional flaw or excess flourish, it's one of those elite places, like Market or Nine-Ten, that define high-end American cuisine in San Diego. Restaurants like George's serve are an essential part of our rapidly rising national reputation as a food city.

Score: 9 out of 10 (Fantastic)

Quick Bite: Eureka!

The Fresno Fig burger, because mine
just looked like boring meat.

Sunday lunch was at Eureka! at UTC. I'm not a huge burger fan, so I'm certain that purists will disagree with me here, but this is probably my favorite burger place in the city.

The Fresno fig burger is one of the bougiest you'll ever see. It's fruity and sweet from the fig marmalade, but has a good salt level from the bacon and goat cheese. It's topped with arugula and porter mustard just to make sure you know it's fancy. The fries that came with our burgers were pretty standard, light in color and a little on the floppy side, but good for dipping. They came with a tangy ketchup, and we asked for some aioli too, which was garlicky and ranch-like.

I had the Eureka punch to drink, which was strong and tropical with pineapple, white rum and simple syrup. My bone marrow burger was, in a word, buttery. It was literally dripping with fatty goodness—in a good way, as long as you ignore how absurdly unhealthy it undoubtedly is. There weren't any really assertive flavors here; it had just a little acidity from the roasted tomato and the mustard aioli. Beyond that, it was just a tsunami of umami.

When my dad's turkey chipotle burger on lettuce arrived, the plate had so much greenery it looked like a salad. It wasn't half bad, seasoned with some distinctly southwestern spices. The charred tomato salsa, avocado and feta toppings are almost enough to make you forget you're eating... turkey.

The blackened fish tacos were also pretty tasty. The blackened seasoning combined with the mango salsa gave them a vaguely Caribbean vibe. I would have liked a slightly shorter cook time on the fish, though.

Eureka is in the business of Elevated Burgers, and that means cramming them with loads of fancy toppings. If you're in it purely for the ground beef experience, this is not the place for you. But if you, like me, believe the patty is merely a canvas on which to paint an elaborate work of burger art, it's worth a visit.

Score: 7 out of 10 (Very Good)

Happy Hour Bite: Nine-Ten

Nine-Ten is the kind of place that would have a Michelin star or two if those lazy bums would bother to make their way down to San Diego. It's seriously one of my favorite restaurants in the entire city, but today I'm going to talk about their happy hour.

Due to my work schedule, happy hour for me usually translates to "very late lunch," so while I may occasionally grab a drink, my focus is always on the food. During happy hour, Nine-Ten offers half off the bar food, putting their masterful small plates in the $6–8 range.

The hamachi sashimi is a great light dish. The freshness of the hamachi really comes through, enhanced with a touch of salt. The scallion vinaigrette adds a delicious vibrant acidity; I almost wished I had a spoon to scoop up every drop. My only real issue with this plate was that the marinated mushrooms soaked up a lot of the vinegar flavor, making them a bit more intense than I'd like.

While I'm at it, I'll mention another of my favorite bar plates that I didn't have on my last visit: the avocado shrimp toast. I know avocado toast is has attained memetic status at this point, but I don't care when it's this good. This dish looks and tastes like a spring garden on bread. The luxuriously creamy guacamole base is topped generously with cilantro, thinly sliced radish, and serrano for a nice prickle of heat. While the salty queso fresco crumbles are essential, the perfectly cooked shrimp are the star of the show, sweet and tender with just the lightest of chars. Even my wife, who usually hates the texture of shrimp, admitted they weren't bad. Truly, this must be a magical place.

Now, it says something about how much I trust head chef Jason Knibb and his team that, rather than being disappointed when I saw their fantastic mushroom agnolotti had been replaced with a different one, I was excited to try their latest creation. The roasted corn and ricotta agnolotti seamlessly blends Italian tradition, Mexican flavors and the comfort food richness into a plate that feels familiar yet totally unique. The sweet corn sauce is reminiscent of a hearty corn chowder, and it meshes well with the salty cotija, fresh cilantro, and lime-spicy Tajín. Biting into these pasta pillows lets the ricotta come gushing out. The agnolotti's al dente bite provides an important contrast in such a creamy dish. I would welcome a bit more heat to cut through the cream and round out the Mexican flavors, but that's just one quibble in an otherwise outstanding plate.

In addition to being one of the best special occasion restaurants in the city, Nine-Ten has become my go-to when I want to treat myself after a taxing work day. There just aren't many places here putting out creative plates at this level of refinement, at this price point. I only hope I'm not spoiling one of San Diego's best-kept food secrets!

Score: 10 out of 10 (Phenomenal)