Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Cin Cin
According to the Urban Dictionary, “Cin Cin” is Italian for “Cheers!” It “derives from the sound of the glasses clinking together.”
It also fails to transcend cultural boundaries:
Years ago I toasted my Mother not with the usual “Kampai!” but with my new uber-cool “Cin Cin” picked up from South American friends.
Mom blanched. Who knew cin cin is Japanese slang for penis?
More to the point, Cin Cin (Vancouver, BC) has a deeper meaning for me and my family because it provided ONLY THE BEST MEAL WE’VE HAD since Hoppe’s in 1996, okay?
Follow me below the fold for food, glorious food.
Here’s Cin Cin:
First, a guy who looked like this dude from Iron Chef, Oompa Loompa hair and all, brought out crusty bread and a dish full of green olive tapenade. We ordered a bottle of Pellegrino (with lime, please!) and I popped for a dry martini with Hendrick’s gin. Best way to kick off an amazing meal? Absolutely.
For our antipasto, we ordered beef carpaccio, which they served with a poof of white truffle mousse, shaved crimini mushrooms, and “potato crisps.” Read: potato chips. These added nothing but visual appeal to an otherwise perfect appetizer. We like carpaccio because it melts in your mouth, feels indulgent, yet saves room for all the other goodies.
Our waiter looked like a young Don Rickles, but that’s where the similarity stopped. Cool guy. Was always there when we needed him, never officious or overbearing, and knew better than to ask, “How is everything?” when our mouths were full of food.
Main courses:
Jake wanted gnocchi, but their only gnocchi dish involved rabbit roasted over great hunks of wood. Mr. Awesome Waiter got Jake his gnocchi with a red sauce and meatballs. Problem solved, although I regretted not being able to try GOOD rabbit for once in my life.
Hmm. Remind me to tell the rabbit-killing story. That was not a good rabbit.
Karen ordered the artichoke and goat cheese ravioli with alder-smoked tomato sauce. Yes, this works. They balanced the flavors perfectly, so that the goat cheese did not overwhelm the artichoke, nor was there more than a hint of wood smoke.
I went for the priciest dish, lobster linguini served in a robust tomato sauce. This isn’t the best way to eat lobster — inevitably, the flesh is tough — but the flavor was full, fresh, and stood up well to the sauce.
Karen had a yummy Viognier with her dinner, while I had a less remarkable (but still tasty) Pinot Grigio. She doesn’t drink much alcohol. More for me!
Dessert: Jake ordered creme brulee and I had the cherries roasted in olive oil, served with raspberry coulis and vanilla gelato. Karen had the trio: tiny orange wedges marinated in Grand Marnier and served in a bowl of hollowed-out orange; a teeny dark chocolate mousse prepared in an espresso cup; and a floating island, meringue atop custard sauce. Yes, I got to sample everything (except for Jake’s creme brulee, which he made short work of).
Best thing about the meal, and something which could move me from my agnosticism, back to the ranks of the believers: after all that alcohol, food, more food, and chocolate, I had almost no reflux that night. One tiny urp, that’s it. A miracle!
That’s it for tonight. I have another grueling day scheduled for tomorrow, so I have to get a start on my Thirteen. Guess what — the August Cosmo has hit the shelves, and it’s THE HOT ISSUE!
It says so right on the cover.
D.
I apologize again: I had forgotten about Cin Cin. I haven’t been there in years, but I used to go semi-regularly and it was always excellent.
I will note that it is considered a very good restaurant, but there are others in Vancouver its equal (or, indeed, better): I’ve always favoured Lombardo’s on 1st and Commercial. It’s in a mall, though. It’s less chi-chi, more straight-up Italian, perfectly (and I mean perfectly) prepared. And there’s Il Giardino, which is pretty much always on top of the Vancouver Italian lists, although I have never been there.
Maybe the sxKitten and I should make a pilgrimage there on our next childless week. Yes, perhaps so.
And the “damage” was? Inquiring minds are curious how many weeks they would have to work to afford a meal there.
Dean: report back to us, please 🙂
microsoar: do I look like the type to fress and tell?
I’ll tell you this much: we dropped about 1/3 what we spent for our 20th anniversary at The French Laundry. But I’d go back to Cin Cin in a heartbeat. French Laundry, while impressive, doesn’t bear repetition IMO.
As the punchline to the old joke goes,
“We’ve already established what kind of girl you are. Now we’re just haggling over the price.”
you…you would eat a BUNNY?
i’m disgusted. bunnies are cute and fluffy and NOT FOR EATING unless you live in the middle of the woods and have no other food source. grph. that’s a pretty room though.
you would’ve LOVED the place my family just went to in New Hampshire…from all accounts it was amazing food; the service was a bit slow cuz we were almost as far from the kitchen as you could get, but my family all raved about their food, and i had no trouble getting special stuff for me, which was also yummy. and the desserts were FABULOUS. mm, mm, mmmmm…