The Following Appeared in the Metroland 11/30/06
Small Wonders
Vin Santo
579 Troy Schenectady Road (Latham Farms), Latham, 786-8272. Serving lunch Mon-Sat 11:30-3:30, dinner Mon-Wed: 5-11, Thu 5-midnight, Fri-Sat 5-1. AE, D, DC, MC, V.
Cuisine: innovative continental
Entrée price range: $5 (black bean soup) to $13 (wild boar chop)
Ambiance: sociable
By B.A. Nilsson
Giving an Italian name to a Spanish-inspired restaurant-wine bar with French- and Asian-inspired cookery is about as all-American as a restaurant can get these days. The old models, while sturdy, have been explored to a fare-thee-well, and people seem to enjoy taking more charge of their food choices.
Which you can do when the plates are smaller and the prices are lower. And the wine keeps flowing.
Vin Santo opened a few months ago in Latham Farms, not far from owner Craig Allen’s other enterprise, All Star Wine and Spirits. With former Justin’s chef Chris Sisinni helming the kitchen, it was a safe bet that the varied menu would be nicely crafted, and I was even more pleased than I expected.
Expectations play a crucial part in a restaurant like this. After all, what is tapas? Better to ask, what was tapas? It’s a Spanish word meaning “cover,” thought to have originated as a covering to keep bugs out of drinks—or to cover the aroma of lousy wine.
Tapas evolved into a handful of small garlicky dishes offered alongside the drinks in a Spanish bar or restaurant. As the concept spread, particularly into this country, it grew to mean just about anything presented on a small plate. But the essence of tapas, to my palate, at least, is piquancy. It’s a small amount of food that needs to work quickly and satisfyingly.
At Vin Santo, the menu is broken into three categories of tapas: traditional, Vin Santo and “small plates menu.” The last-named is the most ambiguous. Think of a typical restaurant entrée—entrée item itself, vegetable, starch—and divide the plate into its components.
Although you’re dining in a strip mall, which isn’t always regarded as a classy destination, once the heavy double doors of Vin Santo close behind you, you’re in a different place entirely. The place has been designed and furnished with an Italian flavor, with a wall mural suggesting a Venetian byway and earth-toned tables and room dividers.
The rooms, or sections, really, divide between a main area and a cluster of tall bar tables. I tried them both, and can recommend that any ambitious eating be conducted in the main area—plates pile up quickly on the bar tables, even though the empties are quickly cleared by the attentive servers.
There’s also raw-bar seating, although nobody took advantage of these during either of my visits. That may be because the primo spot is a long table that faces the kitchen area, the seats of which seem always full. And which give you a good view of Chef Sisinni at work, overseeing the little sculptures he and his staff send to the tables.
Like the ahi tuna tartare ($13), an easy-to-eat compote pairing sushi-grade tuna with pickled ginger, topped with a pleasing combo of avocado and wasabi. And there are apple slices and crisped wontons to complete the dish. Not enough to satisfy a person with my appetite as a complete meal, but a terrific companion to a glass of wine, which is how I used it, pairing it with a Spanish blanc de blanc.
With about 400 wines to choose among—including half-bottles, giant bottles, sake, sherry and wines by the glass—not only will you find something to enjoy but you also can (and should) design your own tasting.
For me it was a sparkler to start, and a bowl of assorted olives ($5) along with a plate of romano-pepper crackers topped with tapenade ($4) to inspire us to choose more. Something to go with a glass of sturdy Capestrano Trebiano ($7).
Certainly the tuna was satisfying; to that we added chorizo and seafood paella ($12), where the rice truly was the star ingredient, rich with juices, dressed with calamari bits and a couple of rich sausage slices.
But I wasn’t destined to spend much time with that dish. My daughter ordered rillette of duck ($10), expecting to see a familiar leg or wing. But it’s a kind of pâté, a creamy paste of duck confit and fat that finishes with a concentrated flavor, contrasting with the port-laced aspic that tops the ramekin. We traded. It’s a rich, rich dish, and even a small portion on a small plate goes a long away. So I went on to a red wine, a glass of Taurino Salice Salentino ($7). It supported that richness.
On another visit, sitting among the throng that gathered at the bar, we sampled deviled eggs laced with salmon ($4), a trio of too-familiar egg halves with an unfamiliar but far more interesting flavor. Tempura-fried acorn squash ($7) is a nifty concept, with chipotle maple syrup bringing out the sweetness of the vegetable—but it needs to be peeled before gaining its fried-batter jacket.
Sisinni’s food features such contrasts that even the shaved Serrano ham ($10) gets its match in zucchini pickles. The grilled wild-boar chop ($13) verges on a complete meal, with sides of braised red cabbage and a squash-potato croquette.
Getting back to the name of this restaurant: It comes from a dessert wine native to Tuscany, made from two local varieties of dried, sweet grapes. Not as sweet as an ice wine and therefore not as cloying, it’s a perfect finish to a meal, and I sipped a good glass of vin santo to finish mine.