In January, the Carlmont Village Shopping Center received a major upgrade. Sharing a parking lot with Baskin Robbins, Subway and Starbucks, a luxe Mediterranean restaurant opened in a discreet corner of the Belmont strip mall that once housed the Waterdog Tavern.
Amara, which means “beloved” in several languages, is Ajay Walia and Reena Miglani’s third restaurant.
The husband and wife team started Saffron in 2003, an infinitely more casual San Carlos restaurant. A decade later they opened Rasa, with a sleeker and more refined Burlingame dining room. Both restaurants serve Indian food whereas Amara takes its inspiration from the many countries that border the Mediterranean Sea.
Amara is an ambitious project that subtly showcases a substantial investment. The cocktail bar, as a primary example, is fashioned out of a marbled green stone the color of celadon. Beautiful streaks of contrasting blacks gleam from the stone beneath an array of mood-altering light fixtures. Amara’s interior seduces diners by conjuring a beautiful mirage that lasts as long as their multi-course meal.
The menu is divided into shareable items described as bites, spreads, small and large plates, sides and desserts. Deciding to be more adventurous, we ordered the black hummus instead of the ubiquitous white.
When Walia checked in at our table, I had to confess it wasn’t my favorite version of the dish. The list of ingredients—charred onions and chilis, crisp garlic, anchovies, fried curry leaves, paprika oil—led me to believe the spread would be packed with flavor. But something had tempered the spice levels down until they were almost undetectable. The perfectly risen pocket of oven-warmed pita bread ultimately saved the dip for me.
Walia is a consummate host with acres of charm to spare. As he made his way around the room, his smile conveyed the warmth of a proud father whose sole purpose in life is to make all of his visiting guests feel at home. We gave him better news after eating bowls of parsnip soup and a chicory salad. The chef had avoided a pitfall commonly associated with transforming starchy root vegetables into soup. The parsnips turned out to be perfectly creamy instead of devolving into a terrible glue.
As a companion, the chicory salad, with citrus, dried cherries, olives and shaved fennel, was a pleasant palate cleanser. But I wouldn’t have said no to feta crumbles or thick wedges of halloumi, to something decadent or inelegant (fried anchovies! escargot!) to sully the immaculate purity of those naked chicory leaves.
A small plate of roasted cauliflower and a separate side of roasted fennel were both, I’m sorry to report, undercooked. Neither arrived at the edible al dente stage.
The cauliflower was a cerebral dish lacking a central soul. The plate was too carefully composed with a bland puree and also dotted with dates, golden raisins and pine nuts. Rather than deconstructing the ingredients, this dish would have been more enjoyable if everything had been jumbled together. The supporting players should have been brought forward, to give them equal billing, and dressed further with the acidic addition of burnt or preserved lemons, or a vinegar brine.
Before dessert, an order of two barbecue spare ribs, sacrificed by a lamb, were tender but surprisingly fatty. With hindsight, the larger plates, such as a saffron roast chicken or a whole branzino, sound like more promising entrees.
One week after tasting slices of the labneh cheesecake, coated in white chocolate, and a molten chocolate harissa cake, I’m not sure I’ve been able to process the complex layers of overlapping flavors. Where another pastry chef might edit themselves by removing a gel or a dusting, Amara’s desserts are placed on display without any imaginative restraints.
But that’s a crucial part of the restaurant’s culinary performance. Adorned with filigreed wall panels and hand-painted, ornately designed murals, the total Amaran experience coalesces into a verdant oasis, a land of plenty that disappears the instant you step outside onto the gray pavement, toward the parking lot, and to what remains of the night.
Amara, open Tue–Sat 5–9pm. 1015 Alameda de las Pulgas, Belmont. 707.653.2557. amararestaurants.com
