Cyrus

As part of our honeymooning gourmet getaway in wine country we had reserved a dinner at Cyrus. Its Michelin stars shone bright and I had been dying to bathe in their glow for quite some time. All aspects of the trip were going to be little shimmering pools of indulgence, but this was the one I looked forward to most. The day started with a very luxurious morning. We woke up in a tall feathery Farmhouse Inn bed to a delicious home made breakfast and sunshine. We spent the afternoon wine tasting in Healdsburg Square. But as the hour of dinner wore closer, excitement began to mingle with apprehension because everywhere we went we were met with cautionary tales. We were repeatedly told to beware of seemingly hospitable offers of truffle shavings and other tempting delicacies, which would then end up on the bill in a most inhospitable way. Thus warned, we got ready for dinner.

Cyrus is located inside the Les Mars hotel, a beautiful and expensive looking pink building with a grand entrance and wrought iron balconies. As you enter you feel either rich or poor (if you’re thinking of how much money you will leave behind). The dining room feels grand without being stuffy and manages to leave the impression of being warm and welcoming. A sharply dressed man in a shiny salmon tie that almost matched his ginger hair greeted us. He had the manners of a large, extremely spoiled orange tomcat who was told to be on his best behavior with guests and promised a lavish treat as a reward. There was no doubt that his job was to ensure that diners left with a full sense of what an important experience they’d had. He could have been extremely snobby, but was quite pleasant and warmed to purring towards the end of the night.

We sat down and were presented with exquisite-sounding five course menus, but before we’d had a chance to acclimate to our surroundings or start looking forward to the food, a grand champagne and caviar cart was wheeled in and planted promptly in front of our table. Not five minutes into the meal we had been confronted with what we had been warned about. There was no pressure applied in selling us anything, nor did anyone try to convince us that it was free, but I found it unpleasant having to start an evening by rejecting something I may have wanted but could not really afford. Most of the caviars were equal in cost to the rest of our dinner combined and all of a sudden I felt less like I was about to have a beautifully lavish meal and more like I was at Armani being tested by the sales people to see what I could afford.

After a few awkward moments the cart was wheeled away and the ginger man returned bringing with him a little tiered tray with tiny bites that were meant to awaken our senses. There was a bite of bitter, sweet, sour and spicy wrapped in a package of molecular gastronomy and loosely resembling foods I’d eaten in the past. As we popped various things in our mouths it felt briefly like we were participating in performance art, and although overall enjoyable, the experience was more artistically than gastronomically pleasing. We were now sufficiently prepped to enjoy our dinner.

The first course was Seared Hamachi with Tomatoes, Melon and Cucumber in Sesame Balsamic reduction with Soy Salt and it was delicious. Alex fell in love with soy salt and we spent a good part of the evening plotting how to get in the kitchen to steal some. The plates were brought out in an orchestrated manner with at least three waiters comprising the corps de ballet. Two people looking at each other for timing ensured that our plates were set in front of us at the exact same time and a third armed with a grater sprinkled various lovely things on top. Luckily (or not) we arrived before truffle season and were not offered any of their deliciously costly shavings, so nothing we were unprepared for appeared on the bill.

The teasingly fresh yet unfilling fish course was followed by a soul-warming Porcini and Chestnut Risotto. Cyrus is well known for their Risottos and the fame is richly deserved. It was my favorite dish of the evening. The texture of the rice was warm and brothy yet each kernel had its distinct borders. It was tenderly folded into the arms of the rich chestnut and porcini puree. All this rested in a small pool of fragrant chicken broth and melted on the tongue. My eyes were closed for the entire duration of this course and I was not ready to find my plate empty.

Perhaps because the risotto was incomparable or maybe just because I’m spoiled by having eaten a lot of delicious food, the Medai with Corn and Scallions and Ginger-Shiso Dashi course was rather unimpressive. I found the fish to be bland although the Ginger-Shiso sauce by itself was excellent and it went nicely with our wine. Here I have to pause and tell you that my favorite part of dinner was our Sommelier. After a rather unfortunate experience the night before with the Sommelier at Farmhouse Inn, I was especially pleased to be greeted by a small boyish-looking man who bounced on the balls of his feet as if they had springs. Here was a person with an amazing job who knew and loved it. He was knowledgeable without the least bit of pretension and was extremely good at helping us choose two half bottles-a white and a red to have with our dinner. We had an awesome German Riesling and a tear-inducing Borolo from a young wine maker in Piedmont and he was very friendly and happy to talk to us.

For our main course I chose Duck Breast with Rosti Potatoes and Peppers and Alex had Lamb Roulade with Eggplant, Garbanzo Beans and Okra. Both dishes were very tasty, but again I was under whelmed. We had both had so many amazing lamb and duck dishes in the past that there was nothing that stood out about these two. The most memorable thing about our dishes was how wonderful they tasted with the Barolo, especially the duck.

For dessert I had Warm Gianduja Doughnuts with Caramelized Banana and Avocado and Alex had Polenta with Figs and Pears. Naturally I chose the doughnuts, but as it turned out I chose wrong. The little warm balls of dough were sticky and had an undercooked taste, which did not mesh well with the extremely sweet but otherwise bland filling. What this dish needed was a citrusy or salty contrast, which the avocado certainly did not provide. I was so unhappy with my dessert that I left half, which if you have dined with me know is rare. Alex’s undessert-like sounding polenta was on the other hand divine. All aspects of the seemingly simple dish were perfectly executed and together it was an intricate and complex-tasting whole that was second only to the risotto in perfection.

As a crowning jewel of the evening the ginger man returned with a glowing hood of glass positioned over a round marble plate. It looked like the container where Beast kept his rose in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, but in Cyrus’ case it was a plate of tiny freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. There was a black pump attached to the container that when squeezed expelled a quantity of cocoa powder, dusting the cookies. These were accompanied by two tiny malted milk shakes with metal straws. It was a tasty and theatrical note to end the evening on and was obviously meant to further press on us the fact that we had had an important experience that should not be forgotten. When the meal was over another cart manifested in front of us and we were invited to choose as many hand made chocolates, bite-sized cookies and translucent lollipops as we dared ask for. In addition we were each presented with a flower-like box that contained a moist and delicious brownie, which we were invited to sample for next morning’s breakfast. All this was indeed free of charge and was a truly gracious endnote to the whole performance.

Overall it was a pleasant meal, although I had really hoped for more. If you are someone for whom money is no object, then you should by all means come to Cyrus to partake of the heavenly Risotto with a pile of expensive truffle shavings. Order an embarrassing amount of caviar from the cart and the most expensive champagne and make the ginger man purr in his lowest and silkiest bass. But, if you are like me and have to limit the number of indulgent meals you have in a year, skip Cyrus and head straight to Farmhouse Inn. The dinner will be just as good if not better and maybe you’ll even be luckier with the Sommelier.