Cheeky: High Hopes, Hurt Feelings, and a Bean Dispute

We took Yia Yia Peggy to Cheeky for her birthday, and dinner had a plot: a promising opening, a dramatic fall, a pasta rescue, and desserts that caused the family to abandon any pretense of generosity. There was also a bean dispute. I am Greek. These things happen.

We started with the $185 “Enjoy It All” seafood tower because it was a celebration and Noel and I deserved caviar after the last two weeks in our lives. Yia Yia Peggy’s birthday provided the administrative justification.

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The raw seafood was fresh and excellent. The bluefin tuna was my favorite, with beautiful flavor and texture, capers, citrus, and a generous hit of coarse salt that pulled everything together. The salmon, scallops, and oysters made this a very happy beginning.

The fried seafood was also great: light, crisp coating and tender seafood underneath. The fried peppers were especially nice with the aioli. Unfortunately, more than half the fritto misto level was comprised of peppers ranging from mild to hot. Don't get me wrong. I like a fried pepper. However, I also notice when a seafood assortment is predominantly a vegetable delivery system.

The triple-fried potatoes were good, fluffy inside and crisp outside, particularly with aioli and caviar. But they occupied the entire top tier of the tower. At $185, I wanted the seafood to hold more of the real estate. The quality was there but the proportions raised questions. With less than half of the tower containing actual seafood, this otherwise lovely offering became suspect.

Then the mains arrived, and apparently the kitchen responsible for the lovely crudo went on break.

The steamed halibut with leeks and sunflower beurre blanc was white fish on a white plate in white sauce. Little seasoning, no interesting texture, and very little to get excited about. The leeks were tasty. The fish seemed determined not to offend anyone by having a personality. This is seafood for people who hate fish and eschew flavor.

The bluefin tuna chop hurt Noel’s feelings. After the excellent tuna crudo, this was particularly difficult to understand. The huge 15 oz. chop she ordered tasted distinctly fishy, especially in the rare pieces. The more cooked pieces actually tasted better, which is a deeply upsetting sentence to write about tuna. The sauce was okay. The long beans were flavorless. My initial charge of crimes against tuna, Asia, and beans was amended to acquit the sauce.

The green gemelli with lamb and mussels was ok, although the lamb appeared in tiny bits and only in miniscule portions (think maybe four tiny bites in the whole dish). Put the halibut on that pasta, and we might have had a genuinely good main course. The flavor was in one dish and the fish was stranded in another.

The tempura enoki mushrooms were tasty and not greasy, but sadly cold on arrival. Their heavily herbed vegan green ranch pleased Peggy, Noel, and me. George dissented.

Meanwhile, the “gigante” beans were the size of small butter beans. When I questioned that, the general manager offered to “agree to disagree.” Another manager checked with the kitchen and discovered the chef had substituted the beans without telling them. She explained, apologized, and removed them from the bill. I appreciated that. Bean identity is discoverable information, and, because I am an attorney, apparently this now requires citation to lawful authority. (See Commission Regulation (EC) No. 1428/2003 (identifying the protected Kastoria gigantes and elephantes beans as Phaseolus coccineus and describing their substantial size). I did not anticipate consulting European agricultural regulations over dinner, but opposing bean counsel left me little choice.

The eagle-eyed manager also noticed my tepid response to the mains and brought out the sweet potato agnolotti with black garlic brown butter, sage, and cream in an effort to make sure we enjoyed out meal. This was excellent offering an experience like a hug from your favorite rich uncle, but not in a creepy way. This dish is warm, comforting, and clearly willing to spend money on butter. It was sad that at this high-end fish restaurant the only good main dish was the one without seafood.

Dessert brought the table back to life. Naturally, we ordered them all. The sticky date cake with toffee and sourdough ice cream was the favorite. George grudgingly permitted everyone a taste before resuming custody.

Noel, who loves a Basque cheesecake, similarly limited everyone to one bite of her silky, not-too-sweet cake. She thought the sharp currant topping made it even better. Judging by her unwillingness to surrender another forkful, the endorsement was sincere.

The buttermilk panna cotta was solid, made interesting by the sherry and crisp, tart apple on top.

Peggy particularly enjoyed the chocolate mousse’s rich, dark base. I did not taste that one, so that is the birthday girl’s testimony.

My yuzu sherbet was fantastic. Painfully sharp and plainly perfect. An acid tongue requires routine maintenance. I allowed everyone a few small bites. Peggy wanted more, but she had announced she was full before dessert arrived and hadn’t finished her pasta. I was protecting her digestive comfort. A thoughtful daughter makes difficult decisions. Any competing account of my motives will be excluded from the official record.

There is, however, a serious qualification to the dessert praise. The sticky date cake contained visible nuts that were not disclosed in its menu description. When I asked, the server initially told me they were toffee when they were obviously nuts. When I pushed, a manager subsequently checked with kitchen and assured me they were pecans, not walnuts. I have a walnut allergy.

After one small bite, I experienced itching in my tongue and throat, took an emergency Benadryl, and stopped eating the cake. The symptoms resolved. I believe the nuts were walnuts, but the restaurant did not confirm their identity and it is possible that now pecans hate me too.

Drinks were okay overall. Noel and Peggy enjoyed the tiny yuzu margaritas. Noel also enjoyed the yuzu sake bomb.

I had two zero-proof green tea and yuzu drinks that were entirely unsweet and leaned toward vinegar. I liked them. My palate enjoys a certain level of hostility, so I would not assume universal appeal.

All in all, Cheeky has promise, and the team worked really, really hard to please us. They removed the substituted beans from the bill, brought an excellent replacement pasta, and they comped all the desserts. Those efforts matter, and the attentive management team deserves credit for noticing disappointment and doing something about it.

As a sister restaurant to my beloved Marbled & Fin, Cheeky came with higher hopes than this dinner fulfilled. There were excellent things on the table, some disappointing ones, and ingredient communication problems that need definite answers.

I suspect much of the uneven cooking and service reflects opening-month kinks. The place was certainly packed, and there was enough good here to make me hopeful. I’m rooting for them as this is a wonderful restaurant group in general. I’ll check back in six months or so.

Noel’s feelings should have recovered by then.