Walnut Brewery, Boulder

Somewhere there’s a secret rulebook for brewpub designers that says that the tanks must be on display. It’s true. Walk into just about any brewpub in any corner of the known universe, and somewhere you’ll see giant tanks with pipes and tubes and gauges, like giant versions of Bender on Futurama.

Now, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. Big shiny tanks are often more interesting to look at than what hangs the average restaurant wall. And it gives some reassurance that you’ve found a real brewpub rather than a place that sells a lot of someone else’s beer.

The Walnut brewery didn’t disappoint. There, behind glass, were shiny tanks peeking out high above the bar. There was also a lot of dark shiny wood which might or might not have been walnut. There were no edible walnuts in evidence, however.

No sooner had we been seated than our server appeared. I asked about dark beers, and she quickly offered to bring a sample. In the blink of an eye, I had a small sample glass in my hand. No doubt about it, she moved fast.

She waited while I tasted and quickly offered to bring another if I wanted to try something different. I like that. It takes the risk out of ordering microbrews, but the first one was just fine. I finished the sample (free beer!) and we ordered our beers.

Full size beers arrived just as fast as the sample; a stout for me and a white ale for my dining companion. The white ale was exactly as the server described it, with hints of citrus and cardamom. My companion liked his selection and I liked mine.

The menu was typical – salads, steaks, burgers, sandwiches. I was looking for something unique, and then the Lobster and Shrimp Tacos ($16) caught my eye and my mind was made up. Inexplicably, my companion also chose a Mexican-themed item – Lucatero’s Guadalajara Enchiladas ($13).

I’m not going to say that the food arrived as fast as the beer, but it was suitably snappy. The tacos were a thing of beauty. The outside layer was a very thin white flour tortilla, recently warmed, with a few toasty spots from the griddle. Inside was a blue corn tortilla which provided a dark backdrop for the light seafood and light citrus sauce inside. Without that blue corn tortilla it would have been a monochromatic dish. The blue corn tortilla was a genius idea.

The sauce was suitably mild to complement the mildness of the shrimp and lobster and lettuce added some crunch. Pico de gallo was added with a light touch, adding just a little heat without overpowering everything else.

Dark, spicy black beans came with the tacos and they had just enough cumin – too much can be overbearing, but this was just enough. They were topped with some sliced scallions and cilantro, adding color and flavor. It also came with Red Ale rice, subtly flavored with the brewery’s Red Ale and red in color as well.

The enchiladas didn’t present as pretty a picture, but flavor was another matter. Filled with shredded chicken, corn kernels, black beans and roasted peppers, they were topped with a fresh-tasting tomatillo salsa and pico de gallo. A dollop of sour cream on one side and black beans on the other completed the dish.

My companion’s comment was most telling – if a Mexican restaurant we used to go to could have made enchiladas like this, we’d probably still be going there regularly. That’s a big compliment.

We finished the meal with the Pint Glass Sundae ($5.50), which was – no surprise – a sundae in a pint glass. The ice cream was espresso chip and it was layered with candied walnuts (Score! I found walnuts!) But what intrigued me most was the stout hot fudge.

I wondered if I would be able to detect the stout in the hot fudge and whether I would like that combination. In the end, it was a good sundae, but I couldn’t taste the stout in the fudge. I have no doubt it was there; maybe it’s a good thing I couldn’t taste it.

Zoe Ma Ma

Walking into Zoe Ma Ma, I figured the food was either going to be outstandingly good, or it was going to be similar to food-court fare. I hoped for the best and braced myself for the worst.

The place is tiny inside, with seven tables, and some of those seat only two. Outdoor seating is also available in a similarly small space. The menu is about as limited as the seating, but many of the dishes can be customized by swapping the noodles or rice, or by changing the protein. Even at that, there isn't a huge selection, so you better like what’s there. There are also three specials available on specific days.

The decor is a little tired, but even that can be a good sign - if a place has been around long enough to gather some wear and tear, it must have something going for it. Some of the best restaurant meals I’ve had have been in tiny, quirky, well-worn hole-in-a-wall establishments that haven’t redecorated because they’re too busy making great food.

There's no table service, but the person at the counter immediately noticed that we were unfamiliar with the place and quickly offered to answer questions and give us suggestions. If strangers are that obvious, there must be a lot of regulars. Another good omen.

The menu made a point that everything was natural, the eggs were cage-free, and the noodles were organic and homemade. Okay, but what’s for dinner? From the descriptions, this wasn’t typical Chinese-American fare. My expectations rose.

I asked what was good, and the uber-friendly counter person said that the Za Jiang Mian ($7) was most popular and the CPR ($7) was second most popular, so we ordered those and some pot stickers, picked up a can of Dale's Pale Ale and a bottle of Tsing Tao beer and snagged a cozy table for two.

We'd barely settled our behinds into the seats when our pot stickers were ready. There were several sauces offered, including one that was labeled "hot" which is what we went for. "But it's not really that hot" we were told. The pot stickers ($1.25 each) were pretty darned good. The dough was just thick enough, and the filling was moist and flavorful with hints of garlic.

These obviously weren't store-bought dumplings, and if they were, I want to know where to buy them. In bulk. The not-so-hot hot sauce added a lot of flavor, but I'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who thought it was spicy. The sauce seemed like something that was made in-house, so that was a plus.

I had a fleeting moment when I considered ordering more pot stickers, but in no time at all - too fast, really - the rest of our meal was ready. It's always a little worrisome when food shows up that fast, because it means that it's precooked and who knows how long it's been in a steam table getting soggy and pathetic. Okay, you're not going to cook rice to order, but still, it was done amazingly fast. Too bad we weren't in a hurry to get somewhere.

The Za Jiang Mian was a noodle dish topped with ground pork in the center and julienned fresh raw carrots and cucumbers around the outside, with just a bit of cilantro for garnish. It was a pretty dish, nicely arranged and colorful in a big red bowl.

On first glance it didn't look like a lot of food, but the egg noodles buried underneath (made by hand by mama - don't forget that!) were filling, and they were cooked perfectly. If they were done ahead of time, they didn't suffer from it.

The flavor didn't quite match with the presentation, though. The cucumbers tasted like cucumbers, the carrots tasted like carrots, the ground pork was meaty, and there was a thin sauce at the bottom of the bowl. The crunch of the vegetables was nice with the meat and noodles. But the sauce didn't have a huge amount of flavor and it wasn't doing a bang-up job clinging to those noodles, anyway. The whole dish needed just a little extra something to live up to the promise of the presentation.

The CPR certainly was unusual in the sense of “what made you decide to combine these three items?” At the bottom of the bowl was a large portion of rice, undoubtedly cooked with some flavoring since it had a yellowish hue rather than being stark white. That was topped with two chicken thighs and several large hunks of potatoes. A few slices of green onion and a few leaves of cilantro served as the vegetable.

The potatoes were obviously cooked in a sauce that was seasoned with five-spice. The chicken was moist and tender, but the five-spice flavor was much less obvious. The rice was ... rice. Again, there was a thin sauce at the bottom of the bowl, but it wasn't doing much good way down there.

Ah, but we still had the plate from the pot stickers with the remaining sauce. Dipping the chicken in that added a bit more interest to what was otherwise a very basic chicken and rice dish (with potatoes for extra starch! Comfort food!) A ladle of that sauce over the whole thing might have been a better idea. Or really, just a big plate of pot stickers.

Restaurant name: Zoe Ma Ma
Food (2 out of 4)
Service (2.5 out of 4)
Ambience (1.5 out of 4)
Price ($ $$)
Address: 2010 10th Street, Boulder
Phone: 303-545-6262
Web: www.zoemama.com
Hours: Sunday – Thursday: 11 a.m. – 10 p.m.; Friday – Saturday: 11 a.m. – 11 p.m.
Credit cards accepted.
Vegetarian and gluten free dishes are available.
Noise level: As loud as your fellow diners can make it. You’ll hear them all.
Recommended dishes: Pot stickers

Originally published in the Boulder Daily Camera.