On Man and Cookery

During this lazy Sunday afternoon I came across a few lines in a book belonging to S entitled The Gentleman's Companion:  An Exotic Cookery Book, published in 1939 by Charles H. Baker, Jr.      This sums it up quite well:  


"Man is a Cooking Animal; & in whatever Situation he is found, it may be assumed as an Axiom, that his Progress in Civilization has kept exact Pace with the Degree of Refinement he may have Attained in the Art of Gastronomy . . .  From the Hairy Man of the Woods to the Modern Gourmet, apportioning his Ingredients & blending his Essences, the Chain is Complete!"




This quote, featured in The Gentleman's Companion, was taken from the 1826 introduction to The Cook & Housewife's Manual


One of my girlfriends had us over for dinner on Friday.  During the prep of the Chicken Picatta, E bemused "We love to cook because it puts us in the 'NOW.'"   She couldn't have been more correct.   Being in the now is part of the therapy of creating art in the kitchen.

Sunday nights are perfect for dining in and being in the Now.  What will it be tonight??

Exploring Food from Cornwall

The town of Mousehole.
A quintessential Cornish village.

A few years back I stayed with a friend at Headland House in St. Ive's Cornwall, England.  Amidst my ramblings round Cornwall, it was here, at this fine B&B, that I enjoyed some of the heartiest of Cornish fare, including a Bacon and Egg Pie (recreated in my kitchen, see below). You'll never find more substantial, flavorful comfort food than in the villages and farmhouses of County Cornwall.

Palms I spied growing on a hillside
near Penzance.

Cornwall, raggedly jutting out into the Atlantic, is England's farthest point west.  It could almost be an island, nearly separated from the rest of Britain by the River Tamar.  With the Bristol Channel to its north and the English Channel to its south, Cornwall's climate is surprisingly temperate.  Its weather is so nice there are palm trees growing naturally.   It's craggy coasts, haunting moors, and subterranean climate make Cornwall an odd and mystical place. 

A recipe book I purchases in St. Ives. 

Cornishmen are a tough breed, weathered by their remoteness and defined by their fishing and mining culture.  Their accent is incredibly distinct (almost bizarre) and their work ethic and traditions are staunchly set.  Thoroughly loyal to the Crown even today, Cornishmen are proud of their distinctive celtic roots and language.   My father's family hails from a Cornish town on the Tamar called St. Colomb Major.  It was a moving experience to see the tombstones of my great great grandparents and other distant relatives in one of the church yards I visited.     During my travels up and down the Cornish coasts I've discovered such things as Cornish Pasty, Mutton and Turnip Pie, Marinated Pilchards (a pilchard, you say?), and rich Saffron Cake, among other common dishes.    The food in Cornwall isn't complicated, over seasoned, or even that astounding.  But its all good and filling and sticks to your ribs.  Butter, flour, lard and fish.  These are the staples.  The English get a bad wrap for their food, but a holiday to Cornwall will set the record straight.  After all, who can go wrong with, say, a dinner of Baked Herrings smothered in crab devil sauce and a dessert of "Railway Pudding" and Cornish clotted cream?

Cornish Bacon and Egg Pie,
with fingerling potatoes.

Friday was a cold day in Richmond, with rain pattering steadily.   I stayed in all day, holed up by the fire, sleeping. Around noon I decided to make something tasty and eggy.  I happened across a little book, Favourite Cornish Recipes.  I bought this book at the Headland House B&B in St. Ives.  I paged through it and found just the right recipe:   Bacon and Egg Pie, from Wadebridge.   Simple, easy, and sure-to-be-good.  A few "rashers" of bacon and some spicy sausage thrown into a dish lined with shortcrust pastry, then parsley, herbs to season, and whipped eggs on tip, covered in puff pastry and baked for nearly an hour, produced a delicious solution to the afternoon hunger.   I served it with fried fingerling potatoes and, of course, a pot of tea (Twinings, Prince of Wales blend).     Taking the first bite, I sighed with satisfaction.  I could almost hear the waves crashing on Carbis Bay in little St. Ives as I took the second bite.   The afternoon could not have gotten better.   

Chicken Salad Cravings

Chicken Salad cravings are sometimes hard to fully satisfy.  There's always a risk of being sorely dissapointed when ordering a chicken salad sandwich at a dining establishment, no matter the calibre of the place.  Who can tolerate the dry, mealy, flavorless chicken salad that's whipped together with little love?

In Richmond, the some of the worst chicken salad sandwiches I've come across can be found at Joe's Inn or Robin Inn.   The best, has always been Montana Gold Bread Company in Carytown.  Flavorful, curious in texture, and balanced with all the right seasonings and accompaniments (how thin they slice the tomatoes and cucumbers, oh my! - with just the right amount of dark meat and mayo). Way to go Montana Gold!  Try it on challah bread and your lunch break will be heavenly.  The runner up is Cafe Cattura with their curried chicken salad always being so moist and freshly made. The right amount of crunchiness from the walnuts is a nice perk.   Hands down, my ultimate favorite chicken salad experience was at the Homestead in Hot Springs, Virginia.  Their Casino Club Restaurant does it right  in the form of the "Waldorf" Chicken Salad Wrap. With juicy apples, dried cherries and richly flavored chicken, it's hard to forget.

My Curry/Mango Chicken Salad
 Ingredients: chicken breasts, diced celery, chopped
 red onion, roasted walnuts, cranberries, madras curry powder,
mango chutney, celery seed, mayonnaise, salt & pepper

The other day I decided to make my own.  It was raining, a Fresh Air podcast with Terry Gross was droning in the back ground,  tea was brewing, and I had just returned from the grocery store (always a good time).  The key for me has always been slowly simmering my chicken breasts.  I created a seasoned brine of minced garlic, salt, pepper, a bay leaf, and some dry tarragon.

There are plenty of recipes you can find.   I chose from a variety when crafting my chicken salad.  One great recipe I found from my fellow blogger Danielle can be found at her site, My Vermont Kitchen. 

The final product (sorry for the lack of presentation, in the mixing bowl!)

With Terry still droning, I toasted some whole grain pepridge farm bread, got a slice of tomato, a leaf of romaine, and enjoyed a great sandwich - all accomplished within an hour.  Chicken salad craving fulfilled.

  

Duke's or Hellman's? And the perfect BLT lunch.

Mayonnaise was my first love.  As a child its presence as a staple nurtured me. Today, I am still in love with it.  I even tried making it (epic fail).   Its texture, its flavor, its fulfilling presence on anything never ceases to keep me coming back for more to the point of perhaps a slight addiction.  Mayonnaise and mashed potatoes?  Perhaps as a side with corn?  Sick. With hot dogs, for sure!     On a high school trip in Belgium I discovered its common pairing with fries. How perfect!   Today, the poor servers that forget to bring my requested side(s) of mayo risk being accused of not caring.  In short, I'm a Mayonnaise nut.

Duke's or Hellmanns?   An age-old "debate."  What is your favorite?  There is a stark difference between the two. Some say there is beauty in simplicity and that is why Duke's, with its sugar-free neutrality, has become the mayo of choice for many, particularly in southern kitchens.  But for me, it has be to Hellmanns.  I prefer the saltier, sharper flavor of Hellmans.  Hellmans also has a higher content of citric acid which makes it more tangy and pronounced than Dukes.  Some would say over-influencing.  I am a mayonnaise nut, so having it influence the flavor profile is OK with me.  

The BLT, deconstructed in my kitchen

After a morning run yesterday, slogging off the excesses of the day before, I got home craving a good lunch. Something fulfilling and fresh, and easy.   Lunches, my favorite meals of the day, are a constant focus for me.  How creative, where to get them, stay in or eat out, light and salady, or something sandwichy and filling?  Tough decisions! 

I decided to make a Bacon Lettuce and Tomato sandwich.  A good ole BLT.  Simple, easy, yum. 






Freshly sliced Hanover tomatoes

The TOMATOES: A few days ago I picked up several unripened Hanover Tomatoes from the grocery store (tragically, I didn't grow my own this summer).  I've been on a tomato kick eating them all week.  Caprese salad, stuffed tomatoes, tomato omelets, tomato sandwiches with english muffins, and even a friend made tomato aspic the other night (bravo J!).  It's been a tomato week!    It's always tempting to buy the imported, beautifully red tomatoes at the store - just because they look better and often are riper than local tomatoes.  But do Canadian tomatoes taste better?  No.  When eating, flavor matters.  Who wants a bland tomato?    Ultimately it's best to find a local produce stand where you can get ripened local tomatoes, but in the event that you're stuck in a Kroger or Martins and have two choices, opt for the local, even if it means waiting for them to ripen a few days at home.  

Why is a BLT sandwich so simple and rewarding?   Two words: Bacon and Mayonnaise.  I used Oscar Meyer applewood-smoked super thick-cut bacon and Hellmann's mayonnaise. Pepridge farm white oat was my bread of chouce.  Toast the toast, fry the bacon, slice the tomatoes (thickly), pick the lettuce (bibb lettuce is my fave), sprinkle with salt and pepper, smother with mayonnaise (on both slices of toast), compile, and eat.    Your kitchen will smell great and your mouth will thank you for one of summer's simple pleasures: a well-made BLT.     For a beverage accompaniment, I suggest a glass of Northern Neck Ginger Ale on ice.  

A satisfying lunch and a great excuse to dip into the mayo and enjoy some local tomatoes!

Austin   

A Boston Fave: Island Creek Oyster Bar



April and me happily enjoying a post-game
 drink at Boston's cool Island Creek Oyster Bar.
.  



What to do after a Yankees/RedSox game at Fenway Park?   Find a drink! Fast.  On a recent Friday night in Boston,  amidst the exciting throngs of RedSox fans coursing down Brookline to Commonwealth Ave, my bestie April and I found ourselves doing just that.   Every watering hole was packed with lines of drunk Bostonians, happy as can be, even though their team lost. 1st of 3!   By chance we happened upon a place called Island Creek Oyster Bar.  My initial assumptions from the outside were, "chain restaurant" & "tourist trap," but I could have not been more pleasantly mistaken.

Island Creek Oyster Bar is a place I definitely recommend.  It felt like walking into a subdued heaven of culinary excitement; an atmosphere that thrilled me.  A low pulse of swedish house music welcomed us, beautiful people and confident staff glided like magic between the tables. And the place felt authentic: real candlelight flickering on the bar and in nooks and crannies throughout the sleek modern interior. Fresh fruit on the bar for zesting. Raw oysters everywhere.   And, it felt almost scenish?   I read afterwards that their mission is to collaborately join the chef, farmer, and diner into one space - and I believe that this is accomplished seamlessly, and people that eat there know it.  Having explored oysters and raw bars at B&G & Gaslight Brasserie on a previous visit to Boston, I have to say Island Creek Oyster Bar  has the best vibe.   The owner, Jeremy Sewall (who also owns the famous Eastern Standard restaurant nearby), was there, maintaining close quality control of all the food going out.  On more than one occasion I spied him, in his tailored grey suit & crisp white shirt adding pepper and seasoning to platters of oysters and scallops before taking it to the tables himself.   A nice touch; it's good to see direct involvement from management, particularly the owner.  It makes you feel all the more assured.   Jeremy's presence and eye for detail kept the magic happening.

Bob, head bartender, putting the final touches
on my Ramos Gin Fizz

Unfortunately I cannot attest to the food. Next time.   It was drinks April and I were after. We started out with martinis.  The head bartender, Bob, made them with great efficiency and with an eye for detail.  Not just any martini.  Nothing worse than a lazy bartender.  Not so with Bob.   Measuring the vermouth, then swirling and pouring out, stirring my gin lightly with a glass swizzle stick, then pouring, making sure no ice went into the perfectly chilled glass, Bob delivered.   Delicious.  April enjoyed a refreshing Lemon Drop Martini. Yum!   After we had made friends with the couple that sat next to us and learned that Bob was particularly good at making fizzes, I ordered my second drink: a Ramos Gin Fizz.   I was surprised to learn that Bob actually knew how to make an Ramos Fizz - a New Orleans drink not often seen in even reputable bars. My first experience with it was at the Gibson in DC with friends J&R.  It calls for a real egg, and a real egg he used!  Not the powdered egg for wimps. Plus, Bob even added Orange Flower water to it.  Proper stuff!     And what a shaking he gave it!  I could not have been more impressed by the presentation. Frothy, foamy, refreshing, and zesty with a twist of orange on top.  Bravo Bob!   Here is a photo of my Ramos Gin Fizz being finalized by Bob.    

Our bar experience at Island Creek Oyster Bar was more than pleasant.  I felt inspired by the atmosphere and comforted by the incredibly savvy bar staff that enjoyed talking with us.    I left feeling happy because every aspect was done well.   I cannot wait to return with April and actually try the oysters! (Not that our Fenway Franks dinner earlier were bad by any stretch)! 

Austin


Island Creek Oyster Bar can be found at 500 Commonwealth Avenue in Boston, near Fenway.  Reservations are a must.  They serve dinner till 11pm.  Ring 617.532.5300. 

Discomforted at Comfort

Hot. Humid. Ovenish. Sauna. Melt.   Thus was last Thursday evening's weather situation in Richmond.  Hooray summer.   Throwing on the coolest clothes possible, I set out in search of air conditioned dining relief, at Comfort.  Comfort, Richmond's famed uptown "southern style" restaurant on Broad Street was a spot I hadn't visited in a few months, and I was craving some simple good food. 

I slogged down Broad Street, slicing through the thick steamy humidity, all the while trying to ignore the sad urban eyesore that spans a majority of that Church Hill-to-Belvidere route.  Why Broad Street, can't you improve?  All the potential for revisted bustling glory!  Progress or not, it's still depressing. And please, do we need that many stop lights?  Insane.    Avoiding Broad Street has become a default for me when driving in RIC.   But, enough of my rant over the pitiful state of Broad.  Comfort-bound I was.  I have no idea why.  Thinking of the "ideal spot" on a non-eventful hot night in Richmond is always tough.  But for me, Comfort needed revisted and I knew it would be lively. 


Normally restaurants Richmonders rave over are good, and there's a reason why our palates weed out the good from the bad.   Since my childhood vacation days down here visiting all the hot  spots with my aunt, like Stellas and Edo's (and hey what about that newest sushi place?!), I've always realized Richmonders have high standards when it comes to food.   

In many respects there are great aspects to Comfort worth raving over.  But Richmonders, I challenge you to respect yourselves a little more.  Comfort has become much less comforting since its founding.   That being said, its location, its wait-staff, and its vibe are all on-par.  I've visited it countless times and have enjoyed the "down-home" feel and the vibrancy of it's location.  It's staff are  "with it" and it's bar is handsome and well-stocked.   But its food quality, I am sorry, is lacking.  Severely. 

After my ramble down Broad, and a ten-minute attempt to find parking amidst the one-way streets, the no U-turns, the bus stops, the fire hydrants, and every other grid-obstruction-to-denizen-peace that the city seems quite gifted at imposing , I finally walked in.  My linen shirt was soaked.  Yuck.   I was meeting S for dinner, but decided to order a much-needed drink and grab a small plate at the bar to start.  I ordered a simple Tom Collins.  Easy & refreshing.   After being greeted by Shawn the bartender, I decided that I was in the right spot.  Lots of folks; several I knew, and my lovely ex wine rep from the Club that sat next to me.   Shawn was more than attentive.  He was brilliant.  He took my order promptly and took care of me.  He even asked my name.  How nice.  I ordered the Pimento Cheese plate.   From the kitchen I could see the cooks and chef snivelling and peering out at the bar crowd.  Chefs and their obvious attitudes,  what can you do?    Nothing, but please, put some decent clothes on your chefs Comfort.  Down home is nice, but not when you have to watch it being crafted by greaseballs with baggy jeans.   

Out came the pimento cheese. I was dissapointed by the lack lustre presentation, of which I will show here.  It looked bad, sloppy, thrown together.  More shocking, however, was the accompaniment of Ritz crackers.  I expect this at a golf club's midway concession stand, but not at an award winning restaurant.  No, this is not charming.  Nor is this down-home comforting.  It's sloppy.   Three years ago when I visited Comfort, they served garlic coated fresh-baked crostinis as the accompaniment to the well-placed cheese.  Now it's Ritz crackers from a box I saw resting on top of the oven.  Dissapointing how standards go awry.  The pimento cheese consisteny was almost like whipped pudding; not the expected texture of grated cheddar you crave when ordering homemade pimento cheese.  Where were the pimentos?  Not enough.  The cheese had a smokey paprika flavor, and the pairing of the pickled onions and cucumber and country ham was nice.  But overall, not that great.  I just expected more.  Attentive Shawn asked how everything was within five minutes of it coming out.  Good work.   

Before taking a table with S, Shawn served up a complimentary Pickled Dill Juice & Smooth Ambler White Whiskey shooter.  Wow!   Nice of him to offer, and a definite way to restructure the palate!  And create a bit of a buzz. Maybe not the best thing to do before eating dinner, but it was a fun drink that I'll remember, and a nice touch from the bar.   

For dinner S and I ordered an appetizer of Fried Green Tomatoes. For the main we ordered braised lamb with sides of mixed greens, mashed potatoes, and fried Okra.   Comfort food overload here we come!     Out came the corn bread.  It had a nice flavor, but it was super dry.  I go back and forth on corn bread and how it "should" be.  My standard of "good" cornbread in RIC is Croaker Spot's.  Moist, fresh-tasting, and slightly crusty on the outside, with real corn chunks on the inside.   Comfort's cornbread is low on the totem pole in terms of its texture.  Just so dry.  When did they make it, I wondered.   I was dissapointed to see that the butter was served in foil packets.  Really?   Gosh, as every minute passed, my expectations had to be re-adjusted.   

The fried green tomatoes were done nicely.  Tart, crunchy, perfectly breaded and fried.  The only thing I wished was for more flavor; a little more salt n' pepper, or something.   They weren't wowing, but they also weren't bad.  They were nice.  



A load of braised lamb, mashed potatoes
& fried okra



Out came the braised lamb with the aforementioned sides.   Here is a photo of everything but the greens (which were served on a side plate).   Again, the presentation wasn't pleasing.  Everything was jumbled on the plate.  Hardly photo worthy.  I expect this kind of thing at a wayside country diner, but wasn't expecting it at Comfort on Broad.  To their credit, the waitstaff, were incredibly attentive, and checked back in to see if everything was OK.  It was a great team effort and they were more than pleasant.   Sadly, the braised lamb was not OK.  It was tough (even stringy), definitely not braised long enough, and seemed insufferably bitter and too dry.  Alongside it were the mashed potatoes, creamy and delightful.  The Fried Okra, was, quite frankly inedible.  I'm not an expert on the art of Fried Okra, but have had enough at other places to know that this Okra was not right.  Over-fried, bland, fibrous and stringy.   Then the the icing on the cake were the greens.  Comfort:  if you wish to serve leafy collard greens the right way, you may wish to simmer them longer.  Collards need a slow simmer with something more flavorful than the bland stew the chefs at Comfort whipped together.  Maybe something with heat?  Like red pepper flakes, at the minimum.   The greens served to me were so, tough (for lack of a better word), so much so that the stalks (see my picture) nearly gagged me.   Not pleasant.  Not southern.  Not comforting.



A thick crunchy stalk in the greens. 



The wait staff, throughout the conclusion of the disatrous attempt of serving up good southern food, kept pushing their famed banana pudding, mainly I felt because it might be the only thing they could actually be proud of that evening.    The last time I had the famous banana pudding at Comfort, I was mildly annoyed.  Vanilla wafers that tasted stale and possessed a weird spongeyness (probably because the dish was  assembled long before I ordered).   Not a chance I wanted to be bothered with again after such a dissapointing dinner.   Check please!    



Will I go back?  Probably not for a while. The excuse that it's just good old basic comfort food, is just not good enough. It'd be far more appealing if Comfort spent time actually plating its dishes creatively rather than slopping it down and expecting the patron to just accept it because, well, it's "down home good."  To me it's down-home laziness and it looks, well, bad and tastes bland.   That aside, the food quality, from my experience, is just not that great.   At best, it's hit or miss.  I have had some dishes, like their meatloaf, which are quite mouth-watering.    But how can you go wrong on basics like cornbread or fried Okra?  The expression, "blah" sums it up quite well.



Richmonders, let's stop being so enamoured just because it has a nice name, cool location, and we're "supposed" to like it.  Let's be a little more discerning.    It may have once been good, but southerners (and us others) desserve better.    Enjoy the bar, and the amazing  staff, but if it's good flavorful, properly cooked comfort food you seek, best look elsewhere.   Hopefully, though, they'll improve, particularly before they open their new restaurant, "Pasture" on Grace Street. 

I humbly, restlessly, rest my opinion.  

Have a great weekend.  Coming up, some lobster exploration in Maine. 

Austin 

     



Family Fresh: Aziza's on Main

One of the joys of restaurant exploration is finding a spot that's been around for a while, yet is a new discovery for you.  The remarkable questions such as, "Why didn't I come here before now??"  or "How did I not know about this place?" hit the explorer's mind - Particularly if that experience is exceptional from the start.   My first visit to Aziza's on Main brought those questions to mind.   And not because the first impression was completely stellar, but simply because the place seemed to possess confidence: Confidence in its vibe, its product, and it's place in Richmond's restaurant scene.  There was a healthy buzz and the patrons seemed happy.

The exposed brick interior at Aziza's is comfortable, and feels a bit edgy with its stylish copper tables.  The raging hand-built brick pizza and bread oven peeking from the back seemed to confirm the message, "we make our own."   The places feels different from a typical small restaurent setup, mainly because of the connected deli, bakery, and oh, don't forget older brother's pharmacy down the hallway.   Good lord.   These people are local, rooted for generations on Tobacco Row.  And they're lebanese.  It's a hip joint and I liked it immediately.    Rusty Fallen, the co-chef, (and mother of the other chef) went out of her way when I was in for lunch to explain to me the family history, and how the tobacconists used to patronize her family's businesses.   Her son Billy, makes all the bread and it can be found around Richmond in places like Ellwood Thompson's. "Billy Bread" has an amazing texture and distinct flavor.  More restaurants and store should buy it!

The other evening I had dinner there with two very special friends of mine -  a nice catch-up after an insufferable week.  Prior to dinner I waited at the small bar, chatting with another friend while waiting for my party (who arrived shortly thereafter).  Ordering liquor drinks, such as a martini, is a bad choice at Aziza's.  Don't do it.  They're just not equipped for mixed drinks.    Stick with their beer and lively lebanese wine selection.  They should just get rid of the small liquor selection altogether.   The wait staff was more than tolerant, though agitated throughout our extended chat time at the bar.  I suppose I'll forgive the agitation because we didn't have a reservation and the tiny bar apparently isn't meant for normal barring .   Once our seemingly tolerant host sat us, the menu was given, and a lengthy introduction to the specials commenced.  The server was not that great.  At first she was sweet & nice - but then as hour rolled on, her end-of-shift stress became noticeable.   She kept interrupting our conversation with useless "assistance."  (Do you really need to re-fill my water after every sip?).  When a server is present too much at your table, it becomes annoying.  Go away!  Unseen and not heard; even if it is just a lebanese eatery. 

The Julia Child quote on the bottom of the enticing menu was charming:  "You don't have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces - just good food from fresh ingredients"    C'est vrai!   On the menu was a hearty listing of "Butchers Plates" & various domestic cheese plates w/ "accoutrements."  Wow.  Pig head anyone? Thank you for boldly embracing real meat and cheese Azizas!  Love.    For my small plate I enjoyed the "Perfect Egg" with prosciutto, arugula, wild mushrooms & mustard sauce. The mustard sauce was almost too bold, but I devoured the egg with my counterparts (which was poached, and really quite perfect). The Gazpacho with grilled bread on the other side of the table looked tempting.     For my main plate I decided to go the Red Snapper route. It was seared, served with corn, hot sopressata, haricot vert & lemon sauce.   Two words:  Done Nicely.  The snapper was bursting with flavor, seasoned with cumin & sprinkled with chives. Beautiful plating.    Meanwhile the crunchy sweet corn appeared to be fresh off the cobb (summer!!!) and it paired well with the peppery, heavy garlic sopressata lovingly laced on top of the fish.    The only complaint I'd have was the intense thickness of the lemon sauce, but hey, Julia Child may have approved.  Butter!

The Homemade Cream Puff at Azizas

A true restaurant makes its desserts.  Aziza's is famous for their homemade cream puffs.  So of course my  friends encouraged me to try one, which I did, but not until later.  Late that night, when I was alone, feeling the urge - i devoured the cream puffs and was thoroughly satisfied.  Oozing chocolate and cream enwrapped by a delicate pastry puff.  Really quite good.   Here's a photo of one I ate at lunch yesterday:  
I definitely look forward to future visits to Aziza's on Main and would encourage my fellow Richmonder's to experience it as well.  It's rare to find local and fresh food on this level, and I give this little place a definite nod of approval.  Thank you A & R for treating me to a enjoyable dining experience. 

Aziza's is open for lunch Monday - Friday, dinner Tuesday - Saturday, and brunch on both Saturday & Sunday.  Ring 804.344.1523.   

Austin