Newly opened at Cross Creek Ranch in Malibu, I happened to come across an article in a local paper with a write-up about this. Somebody (not the writer) was blabbing on about how everything else is rubbish around here and Clark’s is just fantastic. Fantastic is a strong word, one that ought to be used lightly where food is concerned. Having become restless again with picking restaurants confined to this area, Clark’s did look the most promising from the outside, even on a rainy, miserable day. It was pouring down, grey and gloomy, so we rushed inside clutching our umbrellas as we reached the front door, shaking off the excess rain from them as we took refuge. You can’t miss the bright blue aquarium at the entrance. (Partly why all the photos for this story have a blue tinge to them!). We were squeezed into a booth, facing directly opposite this tank. I say blue, but it was more of a strong purple, beaming out onto the tables. Why not, I can’t say I am surprised. They are trying to bring a look, but what I am more interested in is what I am going to eat and how it’s going to taste, not the array of fish swimming in front of me and their habitat.
Clark’s is a seafood restaurant and thank goodness for that; I was needing some fresh fish desperately. I felt the California cold, so that meant soup time. Cioppino was the one, (I have heard the New England clam chowder is successful) but I wanted something tomato-based with lots of different things inside. The server came to take our order. “What can we get for you here, folks?” “Cioppino for me, please.” “And I will take the fish that you have; I have a gluten intolerance.” “No problem, guys, coming right away.” I did feel an air of Malibu snootiness here, which is obvious, considering the location. But putting this aside, if I could have a good meal here today, it would be one to keep close.
The bowl arrived covered with a giant piece of bread; here we go again, moderation… So big, in fact, that you couldn’t even see the stew. And there was nowhere to put this slice; they just let it sit on top, unless they were envisaging a gigantic crouton and that was the presentation. Who knows. Anyway, there was not enough sauce to use this as a mop at the end; you would have needed double the amount. Despite my niggling, it passed, apart from a couple of broken shells in there from the mussels. The prawns had been cleaned, and everything was tasting ok. I took some crushed potatoes on the side that had crisped up nicely, and as I slurped my way through, I turned to my guest and asked, “How is yours?” “Yeah, it’s passable, the fish is slightly over, but it’s acceptable.”
And there you have it. It is what it is, not the most amazing cooking of the century, but you can go there and still have a decent time. Going back for dinner will reveal a different side, and if I happen to be here again, I will choose it first before walking into the unknown.
