Photo by Sasha Georgeson
Union Square’s Orchard Garden is the first hotel in California to meet the green building standards outlined by the United States Green Building Council.
Just a few steps from Chinatown’s gate, guests find the first American energy-saving key card light control system, Aveda bath products, a tobacco-free environment and hotel documents printed on recycled paper with soy-based inks. And the green extends to the hotel’s restaurant, too, situated off the lobby. I dined at the Orchard Garden’s Roots restaurant in late January, days after it opened, to find out exactly how.
In the kitchen, Chef Russell Rummer was given free reign. I was curious to see what direction this energetic young alum of MC2, ACME Chophouse and Absinthe would take. The answer came first in the form of a colorful amuse bouche just minutes after we were seated. A healthy dollop of white bean puree cradled an asparagus tip wrapped in a thick slab of raw tuna. Simple components and different flavor sensations are brought together to work magic on the palate. Rummer’s menu would mirror this two-bite delight. Although asparagus and tuna are neither seasonal nor local in January, the following menu’s focus was sustainable, local and organic: local produce, naturally-raised meats and sustainable seafood — all tied together with Rummer’s modern California-Mediterranean flair.
First to the table was a small-shrimp ceviche ($9) served “up” in a martini glass with chunks of avocado and blood oranges. Crispy shallot shavings — a nice fried contrast to the amalgam of freshness below — topped the colorful trio.
Next came smoked trout salad ($7) with julienne of Fuji apple, herbs and endive drizzled in a mild horseradish crème fraîche. Yet again, Rummer hit every flavor sensation.
Main courses ranged from duck leg confit with butternut squash and red wine cranberry sauce ($19) to hedgehog mushroom risotto with arugula and white truffle oil ($19). We tried a roasted sablefish atop lightly fried fingerling potato chunks and slices of spicy chorizo ($24). The components arrived, gracefully arranged in a white Heath Ceramics bowl, ready to be doused tableside with a generous pour of fennel broth.
In the next dish slices of glistening, medium-rare grass-fed steak joined local wilted Bloomsdale spinach and a sweet potato gratin infused with bay leaf, spice and cream ($24). The sweet-salty gratin alone made the dish worth ordering.
Roots’ desserts made going green easier still. Cranberry-pear crostada ($6) fit the part with rustic, home-grown goodness. But the double chocolate tart ($7) blew it out of the ballpark. Underdone in the middle with a crispy, crust-like exterior, the dense, dark chocolate gained depth from a trace of cinnamon. A squiggle of hot fudge sauce underlay a scoop of butter pecan gelato melting at its warm side; and everything was finished with a toss of crumbled toffee. Crunch, cream and chocolate melded irresistibly on the palate. Our conversation dwindled to a staggering halt.
Those wishing to stimulate conversation at dessert may choose one of the many Cockburn ports on hand or a crisp Inniskillin ice wine. A full cart of American farmstead cheese ($6-$22) is also available.
As the first member of the press to visit, I did not see the finished décor, but the existing design was pleasantly Zen-like: creamy flaxen booths rolled luxuriantly around the perimeter of the warmly lit, carpeted space. Modern, plant-like bronze wall sconces and bronze vines that meandered behind the bar were the predominant decorative features in the two-room, straw-hued space. White-tablecloth covered tables comfortably seat 56 in the dining room.
Belly full of environmentally sound fare, I glanced over to the bar at meal’s end. It was packed with energetic locals at 8 o’clock. Clearly, the ambiance I tagged as slightly somniferous had an opposite effect on those at the bar. Indeed diners and drinkers alike seem curious about this new green business and eager to support it. My guess is Roots won’t have much trouble growing deep into San Francisco.
Carolyn Alburger is a food writer in San Francisco.