New Chef’s Innovations Promise a Great Menu to Come at Sheppard’s

They’ve got another kid in the kitchen at Sheppard’s.

His name is Jack Huxtable, he’s 27 years old, and he’s wonderful.

In May, Huxtable replaced Cindy Black, the Wunderkind who opened Sheppard’s in 1983 when she was all of 25, and who quickly gained national notoriety for the subtlety and imagination of her cooking. Black’s departure at the end of last year (she now serves the Piret’s chain as director of cuisine) threw the management of the Sheraton Harbor Island East hotel into something of a tizzy and sent them on a monthslong search for a new chef that ended only when they lured Huxtable away from Los Angeles’ prestigious La Serre.

The understandable consternation the Sheraton management felt at losing Black must have been alleviated the moment they tasted one of Huxtable’s remarkable sauces. This guy knows how to reduce stocks and cream to a satiny essence that lends savor, character and depth to a main ingredient without overwhelming it in the slightest.

He also is a master at roasting meats, the department of cookery that the great French chefs always have described as the most difficult, and as for his desserts--well, one wouldn’t want to quibble with Huxtable’s pecan souffle. It would be much more intelligent to ask for seconds instead.

So far, it sounds like Huxtable is a fine chef, and he is. The odd thing is that just until the last week of September, the Sheraton saddled him with a ridiculously commonplace menu that someone far less talented could have handled. This standing menu still is in place, and will be until the end of this month, when it will be changed to a better representation of Huxtable’s style.

But for the nonce, the fellow has been consigned to serving such commonplaces--luxuries, to be sure, and very well done, but hardly on the cutting edge of innovation--as Dover sole meuniere, medallions of veal with mushrooms, and broiled fish in flavored butters.

However, Huxtable finally has been allowed to introduce a supplementary, regional American menu that allows him to play more seriously with the finest ingredients the season has to offer. Priced at $30 for three courses (in the realm of haute cuisine, this can be considered reasonable), this menu allows guests to choose one each of a trio of appetizers, a trio of entrees and a trio of desserts.

All nine possibilities were sampled over of two visits, and the conclusion drawn was that Huxtable is offering an embarrassment of riches.

There is a temptation to begin by mentioning Huxtable’s desserts, not because they outshine his first and second courses, but merely because they are such marvels of the art of confectionery.

His pecan souffle is not available daily, instead being merely one of a revolving selection of souffle choices, but it should be made permanent. A wonder of lightness, it was more like a foam than a typical souffle, merely a cloud of pecan flavor that misted over the taste buds like a refreshing dew. A rich caramel sauce added substance and counterpointed the pecan flavor in a way that quite specifically referred to the taste of pecan pie.

Also in the American regional mood, Huxtable presents a maple walnut roll (a kind of recherche jelly roll filled with cream instead of preserves), and an Indian pudding that may be too American for some tastes. (Spiced cornmeal always will be spiced cornmeal, no matter how light the hand that stirs it.)

Among the appetizers, Huxtable offers a puree of pumpkin served in a baby pumpkin shell, the soup concocted presumably from the meat of that very vegetable mixed with cream, good stock, and a touch of shallot or leek. Huxtable wisely resists the inclination to add pumpkin pie spices, which would deny this soup its surprising delicacy. This brew is nice, but so is the saute of geoducks (correctly, if surprisingly, pronounced “gooey-ducks”), or large clams from the Pacific Northwest that are sliced, dredged in flour, browned in butter and served atop a beurre blanc (creamy butter sauce) livened with capers. In flavor and texture, they resemble abalone that in a moment of introspection decided to cast aside their tough, resilient characters.

The chef’s third regional appetizer brings him up to the moment by stuffing a very tender noodle dough with acorn squash (the resulting product is called ravioli), and saucing it with reduced cream flavored with fresh marjoram. A genuine perfume--it could be worn--floats above the sauce, the result of the marjoram being elevated to a height more prominent than this humble herb may have suspected was possible. The effect is terrific.

The lobster Mornay entree sounds more French regional than American, but Huxtable lightens the sauce considerably by thinning it with stock and adding--this is surprising, but it works--a hefty dose of sweet paprika. The kitchen agreed to split the lobster between two guests and serve it as a fish course, an option that is heartily recommended.

A roast pheasant came next, beautifully carved and arranged over a succulent bed of chopped cabbage braised with bacon and carrots. The flesh was tender and delicate, the skin as crisp and colorful as an autumn oak leaf.

The third regional entree, roast rack of lamb, gained its primary interest from the sheer quality of the meat and the care with which it had been roasted. A puree of apples flavored with fresh mint was the generous and inspired garnish.

Having said that the standing menu is rather commonplace, it must be admitted that this list does have several high points. These appear in such appetizers as the warm sausage salad (rounds of highly seasoned sausage capped with Gruyere cheese, served hot over a bed of crisp chicory), and the barbecued eggplant salad, a savory concoction that gains some of its surprising depth from the Chinese hoisin sauce added to the moistening.

A few daily specials usually extend the appetizer list, and one that was especially agreeable was a loin of lamb surrounded by julienned vegetables and baked in a pastry crust. A brown sauce of amazing lightness--the texture was like silk, the sauce itself translucent--made this particularly successful.

The standing menu’s salmon “scallop” also is admirable, both because of the crisp finish given the exterior of the large cut of fish, and because of the pile of salmon caviar mounded at the center of the serving. The rosy salmon floats atop a creamy butter sauce flavored with lemon and thyme.

The roast duck finished with Calvados (French apple liqueur, a fruit brandy comparable in quality to cognac) and apples showed Huxtable the-roaster-of-flesh at his best, because he did something most remarkable in this age of underdone meats: He cooked the duck until the meat took on a creamy softness. This lengthy cooking simultaneously produced a fatless skin that shattered between the teeth and made a wonderful foil to the smooth unctuousness of the meat. The light, stock-based sauce and the garnish of browned apples (they seemed almost like potatoes) were perfect.

A succession of home-baked breads accompanies the various courses, and a small dish of rillettes (an ultra-rich pork paste sealed with the spiced lard in which it is simmered) arrives with the menus as a complimentary snack. Sheppard’s continues to serve a rather involved but all-purpose dish of vegetables with the entrees, and some offerings succeed better than others. A gratin of potatoes always is included, and it is good, but the kitchen might try using less nutmeg.

From the beginning, the Sheraton has insisted that it wished Sheppard’s to be much more than a mere hotel dining room, a claim that sometimes has seemed more borne out by its choice of chefs than its choice of menus. But it seems to be headed in quite the right direction, and there are the pleasant extras of attentive, careful service and a handsomely appointed dining room. Perhaps most heartening of all, it simply seems serious about doing things well.

SHEPPARD’S

Sheraton Harbor Island East hotel, 1380 Harbor Island Drive, San Diego

692-2255

Dinner served Tuesday through Sunday, 6-10 p.m. Closed Mondays.

Credit cards accepted.

Dinner for two with a modest bottle of wine, tax and tip, $75 to $100.