But Cloud is no Jaleo or Zaytinya, the city's first-class purveyors of small
plates. Cloud's barbecued shrimp are good by themselves, but they're served with
an avocado dip that tastes as if it had been poured from a jar. A Caesar salad
has zero anchovy flavor and what smacks of Miracle Whip in its overthick
dressing. And a dish of hummus contains raw bits of garlic. When I start to look
around, I notice a few other things that diminish dinner here. Foil-wrapped
butter looks out of place in this clubby venue, and the selection of wines by
the glass approaches that of your typical frat party
Ouch. Frat party. But for a place where it's more important to be seen than to be substantial, that makes a whole lot of sense.
Then again maybe I'm just a hater who doesn't have one thread of shiny fabric in my wardrobe...
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