Wayfare Tavern...

Unfortunately, the only photo I managed to guilt my dining companion into taking turned out dark, grimy, static-y. Fortunately, I wouldn’t use any of those words to describe the dining experience itself. I’ve never had the pleasure of laying eyes on that hunk of Tyler Florence in real life, but I imagine him to be warm, intimate, and straightforward; a classic Southern man’s man meets Californian sensitive with a boisterous laugh. The type of man that never goes out of style. Ironically, this is also how I’d describe Wayfare.

You’ve been invited into a turn-of-the-century man’s lodge with distressed hardwood floors and Victorian patterned wallpaper to eat straightforward and simple down South-Californian (that’s not So Cal I’m talking here) fare that’s meant to be shared family style. Bone Marrow – tastes like they took a Rib Eye and butter, blended it together and forced it back into a bone, tossed under the salamander for a brief moment until myard kicked in – heart attack waiting to happen, but what a way to go. No sides accompany (I said family style) the chicken brined in buttermilk and fried until golden crispiness, topped with rosemary and sage, and served with lemon wedges on the side. This chicken seems excessively salty, until you add a squirt of lemon...POP! It all comes together; the acid eliminates the saltiness. The creamy grits with wild mushrooms where you can actually see the hominy, nothing like the boxed (which I still love) grits powder. All washed down with one of my favorites as of March 2011, Bonny Doon’s 2006 Le Cigare Volant.

Our quirky and lovely server – who reminded us of a mixture of Elvis Costello and Fred Schneider – was pushing the sticky toffee pudding, but a girl just can’t turn down chocolate. It wasn’t just the chocolate, it was the pairing of a flourless Scharffen Berger cake, hazelnut pavlova crumbles and brown butter ice cream topped with little bits of toffee (which may have been salted). Really, Tyler? Really? How simple could this dessert be? Can’t get any simpler. How fucking delicious is this recipe? Enough to be consumed by a self-conscious fat girl with wild abandonment in mere seconds.

Tyler Florence, hug me. I bet he gives good hugs.