It's a long drive to Encinitas from San Diego, but it's worth it. La Paloma is low-key and low-pressure and somehow entirely natural, and it goes one perfect step beyond La Jolla's Unicorn — it has film, books and food. Before the areas for the coffeehouse and books used to open up into one another; now they are cut apart and the coffeehouse has become, as of last month, a restaurant. In a way, this is disappointing because much of La Paloma's original charm came from the patrons being able to dawdle there with tea and rifle though the magazines. Unfortunately everyone did exactly that. They would linger all day long drinking tea and the owners couldn't survive on those few pennies. But on the other hand, North County desperately needs pleasant, inexpensive restaurants and La Paloma is just this.
We went to dinner there on opening night which was, somewhat confusingly, not the night it opened. The first four nights were a kind of dress rehearsal, but don't think, as we did, that something special was supposed to happen the night the tables were officially set with pink chrysanthemums. When we asked our waitress what was supposed to be so distinctive about December 15, she said with some perplexity and much enthusiasm, well, everyone is going to come for dinner. About that she was right. The dining room was completely full, and the din was agreeable, not destructive of private conversation, perhaps because the ceilings are so high. But you do't go there for intimacy (unless perhaps you sit in one of the booths I noticed around a corner), for the sense of openness which was so characteristic about the coffeehouse remains.
The tables are of wood with no table clothes or paper mats and there are plants hanging everywhere from the wooden partitions. The menu matches the simple, unpretentious, noncommercialized surroundings. There are eight entrees, none of which are boring, including grilled red snapper ($3.00), chicken kona (baked in white wine with pineapple sauce, $3.50), and a beer and beef ragout ($2.95). These prices include the by-now successful San Diego formula of a trip to a salad bar which has hot breads to its left, and the not-so-common cup of coffee. The salad bar is standard, although more well-stocked than most (there is the luxury of sliced fresh mushrooms and teh novelty of raisins), but the little tongs try your patience. Everything, especially the mushrooms and raisin, seems to stick to them. Try the house dressing which is creamy and flavored with cheese, but do not go near the vinaigrette — it is so salty and so strongly acid as to lead one to suspect it was mixed in a chemistry lab.
We ordered the Special, a delicately grilled halibut which was large in portion but not superlative in seasoning, and an entree which was not only excellent, but will please vegetarians: a casserole of lots of cheeses, nuts, and vegetables that was very tasty, chewy, and filling. Dessert is a la carte, and there are only four choices, but three of them are out of the ordinary. In addition to ice cream, there is carrot cake (it could have been just a trifle moister that night), crepes (that night they were out of them), and cherries jubilee. the cook, we learned, comes from La Costa.
To drink? Regular milk and certified raw milk, herb teas, fruit juices (fresh, including papaya and boysenberry), and of course, wine — we had an unusual white, a 1971 Green Hungarian, tangy and refreshing.
The service was youthful and eager to please, although there were a few slips — no saucers, for example, with either our tea or with the cherries jubilee. But such slips can have a positive side. The cherries jubilee were especially delicious, thanks to a mistake by our waitress. She couldnt' get the brandy lit the first time so she added a second jigger. Like the desserts, La Paloma is not an ordinary restauarnt. It's unpretentious, tehre is a subtle hand at work in selecting the menu, and you can eat well for litttle moeny. This is almost miraculous combination.
Three weeks later. A stupendous meal. The men has changed subtly, a few prices going up a little, a few coming down. Those who are very budget conscious will be unhappy to learn that a la carte dinners have disappeared. I ordered the red snapper — it could not have been more succulent and yet daintly crisp — and Robert the beef and beer ragout. He raved about it, saying it was super-excellent and would make La Paloma's reputation and fantasized about a carry-out service. This time we sat in one of the booths and did have much privacy without the sense of being pushed into small space. Both of us were pleased to see that there were quite a few children — no segregation — and yet, surprisingly, ti was much quieter than before The one disappointment was the Dream Crepe, a misnomer. It's really a black walnut sundae whose ice cream and chocolate sauce drowns the little bit of crepe.
It's a long drive to Encinitas from San Diego, but it's worth it. La Paloma is low-key and low-pressure and somehow entirely natural, and it goes one perfect step beyond La Jolla's Unicorn — it has film, books and food. Before the areas for the coffeehouse and books used to open up into one another; now they are cut apart and the coffeehouse has become, as of last month, a restaurant. In a way, this is disappointing because much of La Paloma's original charm came from the patrons being able to dawdle there with tea and rifle though the magazines. Unfortunately everyone did exactly that. They would linger all day long drinking tea and the owners couldn't survive on those few pennies. But on the other hand, North County desperately needs pleasant, inexpensive restaurants and La Paloma is just this.
We went to dinner there on opening night which was, somewhat confusingly, not the night it opened. The first four nights were a kind of dress rehearsal, but don't think, as we did, that something special was supposed to happen the night the tables were officially set with pink chrysanthemums. When we asked our waitress what was supposed to be so distinctive about December 15, she said with some perplexity and much enthusiasm, well, everyone is going to come for dinner. About that she was right. The dining room was completely full, and the din was agreeable, not destructive of private conversation, perhaps because the ceilings are so high. But you do't go there for intimacy (unless perhaps you sit in one of the booths I noticed around a corner), for the sense of openness which was so characteristic about the coffeehouse remains.
The tables are of wood with no table clothes or paper mats and there are plants hanging everywhere from the wooden partitions. The menu matches the simple, unpretentious, noncommercialized surroundings. There are eight entrees, none of which are boring, including grilled red snapper ($3.00), chicken kona (baked in white wine with pineapple sauce, $3.50), and a beer and beef ragout ($2.95). These prices include the by-now successful San Diego formula of a trip to a salad bar which has hot breads to its left, and the not-so-common cup of coffee. The salad bar is standard, although more well-stocked than most (there is the luxury of sliced fresh mushrooms and teh novelty of raisins), but the little tongs try your patience. Everything, especially the mushrooms and raisin, seems to stick to them. Try the house dressing which is creamy and flavored with cheese, but do not go near the vinaigrette — it is so salty and so strongly acid as to lead one to suspect it was mixed in a chemistry lab.
We ordered the Special, a delicately grilled halibut which was large in portion but not superlative in seasoning, and an entree which was not only excellent, but will please vegetarians: a casserole of lots of cheeses, nuts, and vegetables that was very tasty, chewy, and filling. Dessert is a la carte, and there are only four choices, but three of them are out of the ordinary. In addition to ice cream, there is carrot cake (it could have been just a trifle moister that night), crepes (that night they were out of them), and cherries jubilee. the cook, we learned, comes from La Costa.
To drink? Regular milk and certified raw milk, herb teas, fruit juices (fresh, including papaya and boysenberry), and of course, wine — we had an unusual white, a 1971 Green Hungarian, tangy and refreshing.
The service was youthful and eager to please, although there were a few slips — no saucers, for example, with either our tea or with the cherries jubilee. But such slips can have a positive side. The cherries jubilee were especially delicious, thanks to a mistake by our waitress. She couldnt' get the brandy lit the first time so she added a second jigger. Like the desserts, La Paloma is not an ordinary restauarnt. It's unpretentious, tehre is a subtle hand at work in selecting the menu, and you can eat well for litttle moeny. This is almost miraculous combination.
Three weeks later. A stupendous meal. The men has changed subtly, a few prices going up a little, a few coming down. Those who are very budget conscious will be unhappy to learn that a la carte dinners have disappeared. I ordered the red snapper — it could not have been more succulent and yet daintly crisp — and Robert the beef and beer ragout. He raved about it, saying it was super-excellent and would make La Paloma's reputation and fantasized about a carry-out service. This time we sat in one of the booths and did have much privacy without the sense of being pushed into small space. Both of us were pleased to see that there were quite a few children — no segregation — and yet, surprisingly, ti was much quieter than before The one disappointment was the Dream Crepe, a misnomer. It's really a black walnut sundae whose ice cream and chocolate sauce drowns the little bit of crepe.
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