place for calamari
by Ricardo A. Diaz
1:22 AM, Jun. 23, 2011
I always try to
hit tourist spots I live near during the off season; I encounter
fewer funny accents and mini-vans. But sometimes I get past the
marine layer, which always seems to hover just south of Marina but
breaks off just before Seaside, and things look too good, a postcard
view that I take for granted.
around here can make you get in line and enjoy the beauty at all the
popular spots. So I am wandering around Fisherman's Wharf in
Monterey today, looking at all the restaurants and wandering into a
place that people have been telling me about forever: Abalonetti
I walk in and meet managing partner Kevin Phillips, who shows me to
a table overlooking the quieter side of the wharf. "It's important
on the wharf to be different from everyone else," Phillips says.
the largest waterfront patio, which is dog-friendly; we have an
open, atrium-styled building so on nice days like today, we get the
breeze going. We like that it feels a little more casual and play to
that with our antipasto bar." The antipasto bar features roasted
garlic, marinated mushrooms, feta cheese, grilled eggplant,
marinated squid. It's bar food, but really good bar food.
I have a
calamari sampler to start. Phillips brings some of the more
traditional flash-fried calamari, along with some buffalo calamari
(highly spiced) to clear my sinuses and some Baja-style with fresh
pico de gallo. That and a couple of wood-fired oysters with garlic
and butter get me started. The oysters' brininess of the sea mixes
with the earthy smoke flavor; I could put these away all night, but
there are other things to try.
There is only
one entrée named for a person on this menu. Wouldn't you know, the
person who sent me to this place told me I needed to try it. So
Marty's Special comes at me; flash-fried calamari filets over pieces
of fried eggplant with parmesan and mozzarella and with a Sicilian
marinara sauce. It was crunchy with hits of cheese
and no chewiness
to the calamari, perfectly cooked, with the marinara giving the dish
a lot of spice without it actually being spicy.
me the history of the dish. "Marty was part of the two families that
started this place along with the market next door," he says. "This
place originally opened in 1951, and in the early '50s, calamari was
not really prevalent in restaurants. This has been on the menu since
then." Phillips notes, "It takes two days to make our marinara; it
simmers for 10 hours. And with all of our squid, we bring catches in
and clean them ourselves. It never goes anywhere else. We process
everything. "Lots of [restaurants] say 'local squid,' but there's a
lot of squid that's caught here in Monterey and sent for processing
in China and then brought back and sold as 'Monterey squid.' "
I also order
some fresh abalone, farm-raised in Monterey, grilled with a panko
breading. It just melts in your mouth, thin and delicate, and very
luxurious. Who knew a sea snail would taste so good? I follow that
with some cioppino. I pick out the golf ball-sized scallops first,
my favorite, and then go fishing in that soup.
Table for Two: A
fresher perspective at Abalonetti
Longtime Wharf favorite mixes traditional
favorites with a few twists
The Monterey County Herald
Posted: 04/01/2010 01:36:02 AM PDT
Updated: 04/01/2010 09:34:46 AM PDT
When tourism wanes, Fisherman's Wharf shivers
on its timbers, casting its economic nets toward locals with
promises of savory seafood at bargain prices, free parking and a
harborside, sea lion serenade. It's been a tough sell for this historic
pier, which throughout its history has been the focus of Monterey's
economic structure, whether off-loading bales of Chinese silks,
barrels of Spanish wine or tons of wriggling sardines.
Locals, it seems, don't care much for chowder
hawkers, schlock shops and dining alongside Brad from Omaha. But the
Wharf is changing, and people like Kevin Phillips, managing partner
for Abalonetti, are leading the way. "We love our locals," said Phillips, a
longtime foot soldier for John Pisto, who owned Abalonetti and
Domenico's for decades before unloading them in 2007. Restaurateur
Jim Gilbert purchased Abalonetti in 2007 and cut Phillips (general
manager for Pisto's restaurant group) into the deal last year.
Now, all the changes Phillips once imagined
for Abalonetti are coming to fruition. The last real menu alteration
occurred in 1996, so Phillips started there, keeping the classics,
such as Marty's Special (an eggplant/calamari dish named after
original owner Marty Liguori), the namesake abalone and its
modern-day calling card, calamari.
Phillips knew he couldn't mess with the
squid; people come from all over the world for Abalonetti
preparations — both tubes and cutlets (the restaurant orders 900
pounds a week, cleaned and prepared in house).
But how about adding a few twists? Phillips loves Buffalo wings, that spicy,
bar-friendly finger food. So he fashioned a recipe for fried
calamari dipped in hot sauce, and his Buffalo calamari is all the
rage. The kitchen also fires up a garlic calamari, inspired,
Phillips said, by the Gordon Biersch garlic fries served at
ballparks. They also serve an abalone sandwich for
$16.95, a price unheard of in these parts. "No one knows how I do
it," Phillips said.
As for his neighbors, Phillips points to the
free parking for county residents (just show your ID) and his
unprecedented locals menu (three courses, $12.95, seven days a
week). "No one else does that," he said. Add a happy hour that never ends (with $2.99
drinks) and a new glass-walled patio with westward views of the
water and rec trail, and the changes should entice inquiring minds.
There are times, most notably after a cold
Pacifico on a hot day, when I wax poetic about the perfect piece of
cooked fish. It's not adorned with batter or encrusted with nuts or
poached for an hour in olive oil or smothered in cream sauce. It's
caught that day, seasoned simply and grilled over an open fire with
a splash of citrus for good measure.
We all want to taste the fish, I would hope.
Over the years, many local places, Wharf restaurants among them,
have spent far too much time trying to dress up their fish.
So, as I sit next to the window here, the
idyllic harbor view to my right, I fully expect the kitchen at
Abalonetti to ruin the halibut and prawns I had just ordered. I
steady myself with a glass of Lockwood sauvignon blanc ($21 bottle)
and happily munch on the novel Buffalo calamari, a dish that is sure
to have every local Sicilian red-faced and steaming.
It's tasty, and I give it major points for
creativity, yet I had hoped for more of a crispy exterior. They have
a deft touch with squid here, though. No matter the preparation,
it's always sweet and tender (the squid salad in the antipasto plate
is a revelation, and should be immediately copied by competitors).
You could call the Buffalo calamari a gimmick
(albeit a tasty one), but on the whole the new and improved
Abalonetti strays from such devices. Witness the fresh grilled
vegetables such as fennel bulbs and garlic heads; fresh-caught squid
cleaned out back by two employees; nearby farmed abalone, served in
financially painless portions; a caring staff, many of whom have
spend 15-20 years working here.
My entrée arrives, and I smile at the sear
marks on the unadorned halibut fillet in a shallow pool of pinkish
tomato coulis, three plump, butterflied prawns nestled next to it.
Rounding out the plate is a simple tomato crudo, and a tender-crisp
vegetable medley of green beans, peeled squash, carrots and
broccoli. Add to this a bottomless bread basket (the bread here is
stellar) and my experience makes me want to help coax locals here,
confident that it probably isn't what they imagine.
In all honesty, until last weekend, I'd
enjoyed only one memorable meal on the Wharf (Old Fisherman's
Grotto, 2007). Restaurants here don't have to hold themselves to a
standard because their audience is captive — and often, frankly,
ignorant. Tourists are absolutely charmed by the idea of these
quaint places, where clam chowder samples are offered out front, and
the day's catch is prominently displayed over ice. Locals try to
warn them that they will pay dearly for exceedingly mundane food.
But ignorance is bliss, and they leave feeling they've had the
quintessential Monterey experience.
Abalonetti is a pleasant surprise, which
makes me feel a little like a tourist. I can't help liking that
rustic seaside crab shack ambience with its open wood-beamed
ceilings, hardwood flooring and windows flooding the dining room
with natural light. And selections are fairly moderately priced,
except for the abalone (the entrée is $49 at market price today).
So, I arrive with a preconceived notion, but
I'm quite pleasantly surprised. I'm struck by some original ideas —
the antipasto bar, for instance. It's simple and elegant and
representative of the way all good Italian meals begin. The chef
makes the selections, which may include grilled fennel bulb,
marinated mushrooms and artichoke hearts, roasted peppers, grilled
eggplant, roasted garlic, garlic spinach, kalamata olives and feta
cheese, all nicely and thoughtfully prepared ($9.95 for a
half-order, $13.95 for a full order). Also, that abalone sandwich is
unique; I've never seen this offered anywhere.
I'm a pushover for crab Louie, and
Abalonetti's version doesn't disappoint. Of course, the imperative
is lots and lots of delicate, sweet Dungeness crabmeat, and this
plate is absolutely heaped with it, including big satisfying chunks
of leg meat. Somewhere underneath are nice, fresh field greens, and
elegant garnishes of slender green beans; red, ripe, Roma tomato
wedges; olives; hardboiled eggs and that hallmark dressing, served
on the side (a bit pricey at $19.95; also available as a combination
So, my blanket aversion to all-things-Wharf
is happily blown with this visit. Well, and people watching is
always worth the trip. Also, we sometimes get to go to the gelato
place, which I heartily recommend.
Mike Hale and Melissa Snyder approach their
reviews from a couple's perspective. All visits are made