STEPH DEROSA: BROWN DERBY COBB SALAD >>>
Crouton Rating: Four out of four
When it comes to salads, the most important thing is freshness. There’s nothing worse than the smell of stale lettuce from a bag, or hard-floured cheese from whoknowswhere. And trust me, I can smell it a mile away. It’s a slight stench that only I can detect, and my unfortunate tablemates usually don’t understand. As a matter of fact, they get embarrassed for me, but that’s their problem. Nothing sends me into a tirade of lunacy more than salad failure. I’ll turn my nose up and send that shit back quicker than my pee froze last weekend outside that crowded bar with only one girls’ restroom.
Last week as I lunched with JCB and Kris Blondin a la Pacific Grill’s bar top, I watched them split a navy bean soup (which smelled amazing) while I chowed on one of my all-time favorite salads â€" The Cobb Salad. Pacific Grill serves up their own extraordinarily fresh version of the classic Cobb, and does so with the perfection I’ve come to expect from this downtown Tacoma restaurant.
Description: Their Classic “Brown Derby†Cobb Salad costs somewhere in the typical $15 range, and is worth every penny. Freshness is definitely not questioned, and originality shows up in perfect portions atop the bed of spring lettuce, such as “Oregonzola†cheese and chunks (not crumbles) of warm apple-smoked bacon. The avocado-ranch dressing lightly coats each leaf, not clumping or drowning anywhere â€" and the real grilled chicken is strung apart, not chopped. Sliced avocado, tomato, and boiled egg sit gingerly aside my salad and are included in almost every bite.
Taste: Parts are flavorful and robust, yet light as a salad should be. The avocado-ranch dressing is a perfect tangy-sweet accompaniment. It wasn’t too sweet as to drown out the natural flavors from the apple-smoked bacon and roasted chicken, yet was noticeable in every other bite. Nothing was too overpowering, and no topping was pushed to the side left unfinished.
Conclusion: Awesome. I polished the whole damn thing off. If only I wasn’t in public, I would’ve licked the plate. Not that it’s ever stopped me before, but recently I’ve learned to restrain from licking objects owned by others. Like I need another arrest.
Dressing on the side
If I sound like a salad snob, it’s because I am. I’m not proud of it, but I will definitely own up to the label. The Weekly Volcano pays me for being a salad snob, so that makes owning up to the label a little easier. They may only pay me in leftover Halloween candy, but at least it’s something. Nothing says, “I appreciate you†more than a rejected mini Milky Way from the trick-or-treat bag of some unsuspecting 5-year-old brat.
[Pacific Grill, 1502 Pacific Ave., Tacoma, 253.627.3535]