Bess

 
When Sandra Bullock’s restaurant Bess opened a few years ago, rumor had it that the name came from either a grandmother or great aunt. Turned out that was not correct. The name comes from a Bessence candle the actress makes. What I do know is that the well traveled mega star pretty much hand picked many of the menu items from dishes she had enjoyed in the south of France. She also worked on the decor, the design, and had a strong influence on the ultimate ambiance of this cozy little W. 6th st. bistro.

Our first visit there was encouraging. The Croque Monsieur, a classic French sandwich of shaved ham and gruyere cheese was pretty good. The sautéed cauliflower kernels were flat out delicious (alas they’ve been pruned from the menu). The service was dicey but we chalked that up to the relative newness of the restaurant. And of course, like everyone else, we hoped for a glimpse of Austin’s resident movie star. But alas, she was a no show that night. Nonetheless, I got the impression that this restaurant (unlike Michael Jordan’s, Ditka’s, Shula’s and many others) was not just another exercise in celebrity hubris.

Our second and third visits were somewhat uneven. The Smoked Bacon Mussels were quite tasty. The bacon ragout and the grilled ciabatta bread made a perfect complement to the smoky mussels. Alas, it’s too bad the ciabatta couldn’t have been the house bread for the evening because that was stale and inedible. We sent it back and thought it odd that our server opined that it really wouldn’t do much good to bring out another basket. So all the bread was stale? Moving on, our favorite dish by far was the Creole Shrimp Bess. The blackened shrimp were pan fried with garlic and butter and the result was a smooth. creamy dish that was irresistible. Unfortunately, the Sheperd’s Pie, a European classic that featured braised beef and bison stew in a cast iron skillet, was cloyingly sweet and totally without balance. The smashed gold potatoes with parmesan cheese didn’t work either. The Brussel Sprouts with a beurre rouge sauce had the texture of two-day old cement and were devoid of flavor. And the pommes frittes were good. But I wanted them to be exceptional: say in: the league of 4th St. neighbor Péché.

Normally, given my proclivity for only publishing reviews about restaurants that I enjoy at virtually every level, I normally would have passed on this review. But I’ve received so many inquiries about Bess that I decided to go ahead with this. For a restaurant that showed so much initial promise, I don’t think Bess has yet to hit its stride: where they can bring it night after night. I applaud Sandra for what she has attempted here. And Chef Mizael is very talented. But it’s got to be difficult, even for the best of chefs, to share the creative mantle with an often absent megastar. In my opinion, Bess has yet to reach the point where expectation matches execution. I will go back again soon and hopefully things will have ramped up to where I can rave about them. If so, I’ll be the first to do so.