Por Frank Sabatini Jr.
If there is one dining revelation I’ve come away with from 2015, it’s that vegan restaurants are hotter than ever. In just the past few years, we’ve seen places like Veggie Grill, Native Foods, Plumeria, and more recently, Kindred, emerge with meals that no longer taste as though you’re eating live house plants and the macramé hangers that go with them.
Café Gratitude in Little Italy is among the newest in the bunch, attracting as many carnivores as vegans with its lengthy menu of hearty, creative fare served within an anti-industrial atmosphere resembling a Williams-Sonoma store.
Sleek marble and light wood flow warmly throughout the corner-lot space, which to my knowledge, marks the neighborhood’s first-ever kitchen that doesn’t harbor a single molecule of animal fat. And nobody’s complaining, not even the eager-nosed dogs catching remnants of cauliflower steak and tempeh chorizo from their owners seated on the pet-friendly patio.
Since launching in Berkeley 10 years ago, Café Gratitude has spawned several locations throughout California, including its San Diego outpost that debuted in July. The menu companywide uses every imaginable adjective related to wellbeing for naming the dishes.
Written big and boldly at the top of the menu is, “I am …”
From there, your eyes drop down to words like “ecstatic” if choosing roasted Brussels spouts in maple-miso glaze, and “magical” if opting for the double black-bean burger topped with cashew-macadamia nut cheese.
Or perhaps you are “confident” enough to order the aforementioned cauliflower steak. Such self-assuredness paid off as our forks glided through this thick pan-seared filet mantled by bright-orange romesco sauce, juicy sun-dried tomatoes, olive tapenade and pine nuts. With so many robust flavors and textures occurring on the plate, we consumed every spec with gusto. Even if you’re not a fan of cauliflower, it’s likely you’ll easily plow through this.
My quasi-vegan companion chose a second appetizer rather fitting of his personality, called “vivacious.” It equated to a bowl of baked, dehydrated kale chips served with a choice of dipping sauces. We asked for all three: cashew nacho cheese, which was pleasantly tangy; cashew ricotta that we agreed was bland; and garlic tahini, which we voted the tastiest in the lineup.
Even without the sauces the chips were delightfully satisfying, however, much like potato chips, but far more frail. Handle with care or else they’ll turn into smithereens.
From the salad category, and at the risk of sounding vain, “I am” more “dazzling” than the Caesar salad that falls under that promising descriptor, at least when wearing a glittery party hat with a gin martini in hand. Despite capers and avocado strewn throughout the romaine lettuce, the faux-Parmesan dressing made with Brazil nuts didn’t add the zest I’ve encountered in other vegan renditions of the salad. Creamy, yes, but it was near flavorless.
While sipping fermented “eclectic” kombuchas — blueberry and ginger — we proceeded to a dish called “devoted” that our non-vegan waiter ranked as one of his favorite menu items.
Lovely and comforting, it featured a soft, crumbly loaf made of lentils and butternut squash, plus mashed heirloom potatoes draped in shiitake gravy, sautéed greens, creamy polenta and pickled beets. The dish reminded me of Thanksgiving dinner with all its homey flavors, but without needing to plop onto a recliner afterward.
We also tried the “honest,” a tempeh pastrami Reuben on our choice of slow-fermented ciabatta bread that was among the high points of the sandwich. The spicy red sauerkraut and cashew Russian dressing were also noteworthy, adding necessary savor to the faux meat, which lacked the peppery, briny flavor we expected from it.
Better yet were side orders of lip-puckering kimchee and curried lentils, which was the spiciest dish to land on our table.
This particular companion and I are normally not big dessert eaters. But we were swept away by the sugar angels with the two we tried, a chocolate-mint cheesecake that dissolved on our tongues from the heat of our mouths; and carrot cake as luscious as any that relies on eggs and cream cheese. How the chefs get it to taste as good, if not better, is beyond me.
Adding to this dreamy ending was a turmeric latte that we shared. Next time I’ll get my own cup filled with hot, frothy almond milk tinted golden yellow from the turmeric. The corporate chefs obviously know that the spice releases its best anti-inflammatory properties when blended with black pepper or the oil thereof, as served here. The flavor was bewitching, and the effect was noticeably soothing.
Café Gratitude celebrates “aliveness” with its spritzers, elixirs, teas and smoothies just as much as it does through clean, solid food. The liquid menu, which also includes some decent wines and beers, is a thirst-quenching feast intended on leaving you feeling “brave,” “active,” “blissful” or “charismatic,” as some are named.
For us, after a relaxing round of eating and drinking here, we adopted two adjectives that aren’t on the menu — “sated,” and “willing” (to return).
—Frank Sabatini Jr. es el autor de “Secret San Diego” (ECW Press), y comenzó su carrera como escritor local hace más de dos décadas como miembro del personal del ex San Diego Tribune. Puedes localizarlo en [email protected].
