I had one of the best meals of my life on wednesday night. It was absolutely fantastically delicious, fresh, homely, authentic. It was awesomely inexpensive, but not cheap, rather inexpensive in the best traditions of a different culture, and maybe a different time, in a way that makes me want to sport a monocle and don a genuine beaver skin top hat.
For the record, I had veil with brandy-cream sauce, mushrooms, and capers*. The ask for extra bread to sop it up, lick your plate good, effing brandy sauce. That brandy cream sauce alone is at like 7 stars, my mouth is going all pavlav just thinking about it.
I missed that brandy sauce. It was two and a half years ago that I left Belmont Shore and moved inland just a wee two thousand miles. Gazelle was a sometimes packed but well hidden gem that I frequented; they served food that I loved and never tired of. It was a safe choice to bring visitors or dates who enjoyed eating - my brother had a single meal there and talks of it some years after. And, when I moved away from home (*sob*), Gazelle was one of my last dinners on my way out of town.
Thus Gazelle was on my shortlist during a recent visit home, it was penned in for my coveted last days. It was destined to be a hail mary. 2nd street has changed a lot in the short time I have been gone, or perhaps my tastes have; unfortunately most of the places I remembered fondly had been disappointing. Gazelle started out much the same. It closes at 9 on weeknights, too early to accommodate us the first night we tried. The second night we went earlier but the single four seat table was taken and would be a forty five minute wait, there was a single two seat table available (we were a threesome), but it was the worst table in the place, prone to draft from the often opened door, and foot traffic. I wanted to wait, but the girls were ravenous. Thus I sat, intermittently cold, huddled in a third chair around a small table meticulously squeezed barely out of the way of foot traffic. It was about then that I predicted with 80% confidence, that this meal was going to suck. And I was sad.
But as the owner/host/waiter/bartender greeted our table he recognized me and inquired about my long absence. In a split second I remembered just how much I loved this place. I excused myself and went to wash my hands in the only restroom, located through the kitchen where a single chef works magic over a handful of pans over a hot stove, past the prep area, in the way back. And as I walked past all this stuff, and it smelled fucking delicious mind you, and I recognized that everything was the same (save the missing tablecloths - boo), and the 4 person staff was the same save the prep cook, I smiled, because I knew that dinner was going to be awesome.
Giddy, I returned to the table just in time for a fresh from the oven roll, and unsalted butter. It was familiar, completely, and it was delicious, and I was home again. I have to admit here that at this point more or less I started smiling and remained grinning throughout the meal. I was that stoked, to the delight of my traveling companions. We went with veil in various incarnations, pared with the least expensive bottle of Pinot Noir possible, cause I'm classy like that. The soup was excellent. From memory, the salad is as well despite the fact that it has a beet-ish dressing. Choose either with dinner.
My entree was so off the hook that words cannot possibly do it justice. I loved that veil like its mother, and the brandy cream sauce compliments so perfectly that every time I have the dish I fight off the urge to lick my plate clean, sometimes unsuccessfully. It was cooked perfectly, served with a pasta al dente and I think some veggies. Its filling, but the portion size is inadequate if only because the dish is so damn good that I can eat for two. I smiled wider and devoured.
Even though as a rule I am not a dessert person, I love, love, love the deserts here. They are classy enough to bring them on a tray and show them to you rather then provide a menu. We split the crème caramel (an unflamed crème brûlée) which was a regrettable miss, and also an apple turnover a la mode which was recommended, and excellent despite my hatred of the fruit.
All said, I would rank my dinner at Gazelle equal to my former undisputed best meal (some sort of nut or sesame encrusted tuna - its been the titleholder long enough that most of the details of the meal are lost). I love Cafe Gazelle, perhaps more so then any other place on (or just off) 2nd, its an unchanging landmark packed with just enough character to be charming, and focused foremost on delicious food.
* - this veil dish has a much more fancy Italian name on the menu, which I have unfortunately forgotten. I think its on the left hand side of the menu, it mentions brandy in the description. read more