MoMo's: Make sure to wear your Capri pants
Written: Oct 17 '00
|
Product Rating:
|
|
|
Pros: The room is attractive and the Steak was well executed
Cons: Hmmm.
|
|
|
| Mr.Eyore's Full Review: Momos |
San Francisco is dead! I declare it so, and so it must be.
Let me begin by saying that you should scan down to the bottom and select "Recommended" at the very best. Do not give me your HR, if you were planning to do so. I am breaking my very own rule by reviewing a restaurant that I've only been to once. And I am ashamed.
But I feel compelled to review this place not because it was so awful or so great that I just knew what I wanted to say about it as soon as I left. I'm reviewing it so that I can vent my spleen about the loss of a thing I love as much as Flannery O'Conner, John Irving, Pookie's Steak Au Poivre, Internet Porn and Billie Holiday all rolled into one: San Francisco.
But first to the review.
MoMo's is a huge restaurant right across the street from the new Pac Bell Park (which I love, loud music and all). It's hard to say what parking is like, because I went on a Friday night when there was no game. So there was no traffic and I suppose we could have parked on the street. Instead, Hanski, Amickay and I utilized the $9.00 valet parking because we were hungry after driving around not finding Gordon's House of Fine Eats after failing to get a table at some SOMA Ski Chalet place that Amickay wanted to try.
There's a MUNI stop right across the street, so public transportation accessible.
The Room
MoMo's (the extra capital letter is theirs) is clearly designed to serve the abundant and wealthy clientele of the new baseball arena. It looks like it could easily serve 200 at one sitting, but it is not an unattractive room. It is so wide open, with such high ceilings, that it never seems to get uncomfortably loud. Huge, lush palms and carefully chosen artwork make the place seem warmer than such a large room otherwise might. Plus there are some nooks and crannies (an open kitchen; a long back room) that take away from the warehouse feel.
Outside, there's a huge porch area that could probably stuff in 100 or so drinkers and appetizer pickers under heat lamps. It's well furnished with attractive iron tables and chairs that were a little small for my big ass.
The Menu
This restaurant offered a little something for everyone, but not quite enough for me. Like Absinthe, each of the dishes sounded great to begin with but included some element that I didn't personally care for.
The three of us started off with the artichoke baked in a brick oven served and with lemon and a lemon aioli ($8.00). I was a little disappointed with this dish. The artichoke was on the small side and not properly trimmed. For eight bucks, it didn't blow me away.
We also had the stringed, fried onion rings ($5.00). These, I was happier with. They were not in the least greasy. It was a heaping plate, and they ended up going really well with my main course. Also, MoMo's gives you one of those fat little Mickey's Bigmouth ketchup bottles, and I think from now no, I'll take a half star away from anyplace that gives me ketchup in one of those old "anticipation" bottles. The easy pour bottles are out there, restaurants. Get ‘em.
For dinner, Hanski and I both got the New York Steak (medium rare) in a Pinot Noir reduction with scalloped potatoes cooked with fois gras and green beans. I do not like New York steaks. I keep promising myself that I won't get anything but filet when I order red meat. But this was great. The meat was tender and flavorful. Not much fat at all. The serving was huge. The sauce was a good match: not too overwhelming. The potatoes were incredible. The weak link in this dish was the beans, which were undercooked and had not been de-stringed. At around $25.00, it was the most expensive thing no the menu, but I thought it was worth it. Also, the fried onion things went well with this dish.
Amickay got seared scallops, served with mashed potatoes and some kind of greens. She said it was delicious.
The Service
Service was good. We were seated as soon as we walked through the door. Our waiter, who I think used to be the lead singer of A Flock of Seagulls, was friendly and not in our face, but he kind of disappeared toward the end of the meal. We had a little trouble getting our check.
The Rant
When I was a boy, I had to walk ten miles in the snow to get to school ... UPHILL BOTH WAYS. And for a nickel, I could see an all day-matinee and get a hot dog too. Everyone respected their elders, took off their hat during the national anthem and waited till they got married to do the nasty.
I don't mean to sound like Herb Caen in his final, nostalgia-addled days, but it really has changed here. Quickly. Irrevocably. Not for the better.
Five years ago. Three years ago. Heck, 18 months ago. This was still a unique place: A city for freaks and mutts. Too white, too rich, too educated, yes. But fun, and different and better than your city by half. Now, it's La Jolla. It's big hair and animal prints and belly button rings on shown stomachs. Only those stomachs aren't the chubby ripe little things that used to be attached to heads with orange hair and nose ringed faces. They're yoked, six-pack stomachs perched halfway between f-me boots and colored contact lenses. The city is whiter, richer and even more educated.
I was reminded of this when I walked out to MoMo's large porch area to have a smoke with my friends after dinner. It wasn't crowded, but it was a "scene" in the worst sense of the word. The crowd was young and hip and homogeneous. The boys shared a single P coat (pea coat?). The girls shared a bottle of blonde. Everyone drank Corona with lime.
I know, there are many to whom this sort of place sounds appealing. Nice room. Well appointed, heated and large porch area filled with attractive people in GAP clothes drinking beer from a clear bottle and trying to sleep with one another. And I suppose it is appealing. But it ain't San Francisco.
If you're driving up for, like, a late season Dodger game across the street, try MoMo's. The food's good and reasonable and the surroundings will remind you of home. Plus, they have attractive matchbooks.
The Final Tally
Two appetizers, three entrees, a Jack Daniels, a glass of wine and a tip: $142.69.
Recommended:
No
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
Mr.Eyore
|
 - Top 500 |
|
Reviews written: 129
Trusted by: 299 members
About Me:
I come for the pervasive sense of elitist self-importance and semi-witty expressions of faux camaraderie
|
|
|
- Add to My Yahoo!: 
- Add to Google Homepage: 
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.