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Taste of the Town

Zut! on Forth

Lori Eanes

     The twinkle lights in the sidewalk trees give Fourth Street a celebratory radiance at dusk. Or is that the UFO glow of the illuminated cube that is the Apple Store across the way? Whichever, I feel like we’re visiting a foreign land on holiday as we stroll up the semi-tony commercial block toward Zut! on Fourth, the latest restaurant to occupy the building where the Fourth Street Grill, Ginger Island and Eccolo once flourished.
     Most of the shops have shut down for the day. Bette’s Oceanview Diner, the long-thriving breakfast-and-lunch institution on the opposite side of the street, is dark. And the other major eateries — Spenger’s Fresh Fish Grotto, O Chame, Cafe Rouge and Tacubaya — are spaced just far enough apart that the neighborhood at night is a calm contrast to its daytime bustle.
     Fourth Street is hardly the Berkeley equivalent of Barcelona’s La Ramblas or Québec City’s Grande Allée. Still, I enjoy the illusion of traveling that I get here, and it sharpens when Robin and I step past Zut!’s street-facing patio (abandoned tonight, but a choice setting when the sun is shining or the overhead heaters are on) and into the golden-hued interior. We have a moment or two to take in the space: Straight ahead there’s a counter with eight chair-backed stools; to our right, tall cocktail tables and then a capacious zinc bar with eight more stools, all occupied by cheery patrons paired off in conversation. The tiered back bar is fully stocked, glittery with spirits bottles. Overhead, there is a combination of dropped and high exposed ceilings and fanciful chandeliers in somewhat abstract grapevine patterns. Zut! (which roughly translates as “damn!”) looks inviting.
     We’re ushered to our table by a pleasant young woman who is confident and gracious in her role. Several dining areas have been mapped into the floor plan, including one big side room with a large, deeply recessed skylight that opens in warm weather, and a smaller alcove that looks best suited for group dining. Wide entryways separate the spaces, and floor-to-ceiling drapes add another refined element to the alluring overall design.
     We are seated not far from the front door, and we learn quickly that we’d better be OK with overhearing the conversations at tightly neighboring tables. (The fellow next to us tours in a rock band.) The server opens the bottle of wine we brought from home (corkage, $15), and we order the Fourth Street Caesar salad ($10) for Robin and the stuffed squid ($10) for me as starters, to be followed by main courses of red quinoa with maitake mushrooms, baby carrots, leeks and crème fraîche ($17), and whole petrale sole with roasted potatoes, green beans and braised escarole ($25).
     Except for the Caesar — pretty, but made with little gems lettuce instead of romaine, and marred by stale croutons — everything is top tier in taste and presentation. I’m transported to Spain by the two torpedo-shaped calamari bodies, perfectly cooked to ravioli-like texture, stuffed with chorizo, mint, fennel, onion and garlic, browned on the outside like won tons and served with braised greens. Zut! The sole, splayed on a large platter, momentarily suppresses my tendency to put all petrale up against my romanticized remembrances of Tadich Grill. Robin, my weather vane on all vegetarian entrees, digs into the jumbled mound of quinoa and emerges almost as happy as a kid who’s just jumped into a pile of autumn leaves. Zut alors!
     From the dessert list, which includes a roasted pear, an apple walnut crisp, chocolate budino cake and assorted sorbets (all $8), we choose the muscovado (very dark brown sugar) pot de crème ($8). The woman next to us overhears our order and heartily endorses it — rightfully so, we learn to our taste buds’ delight. Robin complements her portion with a decaf latte ($5), and we leave our first visit to Zut! warm, satiated and inured to chill outside.
     When we return a week or so later, we are again greeted convivially and seated fairly promptly, again in the section nearest the entrance, at a table next to a window looking out at Fourth Street, and again practically in the laps of our neighbors. Zut! (Not every table in Zut! is so situated; we just seem to land at them.) Our server tonight speaks the language of the sentence-challenged and the terminally distracted: her curt responses — “OK,” “no problem” — and lack of eye contact give us the feeling that she’d rather be somewhere else. For much of our meal she is. At first she’s efficient to a fault. Before long the faults multiply and get the better of the efficiency.
     Maybe some planet is in retrograde, because the service certainly is. Plates are delivered and removed in haphazard fashion. Our server disappears for long stretches and never cracks a smile when she does check in. Zut! Still, the food and drink are by and large scrumptious. The bar offers a selection of custom cocktails ($9–$10), but I opt for my standby, a Sazerac ($9), and zut! it’s good. Indeed, we fall back on favorites for our entire meal: a 2008 Monterey Petite Syrah ($10) for Robin; a big serving of tasty crispy smelts (like French fries from the sea, $8) with aioli and cocktail sauce for dipping (double zut!); a chubby burger (house-ground grass-fed beef, $13) on a soft bun with a slice of yellow heirloom tomato; super tender (but underspiced) pot roast–like beef cheek ($22), with baby carrots, roasted cippolini onion, polenta and lemon zest; and an ice cream sundae ($8) with hot fudge, salted caramel and candied almonds.
     The full range of executive chef Jim Wimborough’s market-driven menu can’t be plumbed in two dinners. There’s pizza ($12–$15), king salmon ($25), rotisserie chicken with mashed potatoes ($18), black mission figs with hazelnuts, crème fraiche and blackberry vinaigrette ($9), and lunch and brunch salads, panini, falafel, beignets, hash, eggs and more. The California-fied Mediterranean emphasis harmonizes with the decor to transport diners to another world.
     After we finally flag down a server to get our bill and pay, it’s nearly 9:30 at night. We step back out to Fourth Street and the first passerby is a woman pulling a shopping cart piled high with her belongings. Zut! We’re home.