Movies of Myself

Summer Eating

Dudes, any barbecues this weekend? If not, please organize one stat. Summer is going by so fast and there is no time like the present to enjoy all sorts of lovely warm weather foodstuffs. Now, normally I'm content only to wrap myself in a blanket made of bacon, but SO many fruits and vegetables are ripe, vibrant and crazy bursting with flavor right now that I just can't resist them. Here's some simple salads I've thrown together lately that you should try. Trust me, I'm not exactly Julia Child, Jr., so they won't be time-consuming enough to interfere with your chiling out, maxing and relaxing. Maybe one of them would do well alongside your burgers, chicken and corn on the 4th?

Avocado and Grapefruit:

This is the most labor-intensive of the bunch but it is well, well worth it. I'd pretty much rather do anything else than peel and slice fruits. It is the epitome of yawnsville, but I did it and I will do it again for this "sashimi" style row of beauty. The dressing is a simple mix of olive oil, grapefruit juice and grainy mustard. Slosh that over your slices, top with sea salt and coarse-ground pepper and you are good as gold. Do you know how good this stuff is? I'm not really an avocado fan. I'm not really a grapefruit fan, either (though I'll take a fresh Ketel greyhound any time, please). And I still think this is the bomb.

Sugar Snap Pea & Radish

This one's good to make with a friend because there's few things more conducive to having a friendly chat than snapping the ends off some crisp sugar snap peas. Plus, each person can tolerate cutting two pea pods in half lengthwise so you'll have enough to garnish the top of the salad and make yourself look good. Trust me, it's so annoying you won't want to halve more than a handful. What's in this baby: the peas, radishes, cheese, lemon zest, lemon juice, olive oil and fresh chopped mint. A wee bit of dill or tarragon, if you have it. What type of cheese? Feta is best, but blue or queso fresco will also do. I used queso fresco, because of the deep and abiding love I have for it. The radishes are best as thin as you can get them and a mandolin will serve you well in your effort to get papery slices. It will also chop the end of your finger off if you are an idiot like yours truly. Hint: do not serve severed finger parts in your salad.

Summer Berry Mix

Eat as many berries now as you can, kiddos, because soon they will be woefully bland and depressing. A winter berry craving (and we're lucky we even get berries in the winter in California) will have you paying five dollars or more for a tiny box of what basically amounts to colored water. Take any of your favorite summer berries and fruit, add some fresh mint, drizzle with local honey and spoon this stuff over a few cheese cubes, Greek yogurt, ice cream, pound cake (or ice-cream topped pound cake, uh-huh, that's right) and you'll have the perfect light post-bbq dessert salad. You can't go wrong with the classic blueberries and raspberries here. Other recommended pairings: kiwi + strawberries, peach + blackberries. Simple as can be, but there are few things better, I promise you. Now, grab me another beer--let's play some horseshoes!

Roaring Forties or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Cheese

Is it any wonder that I know nothing about cheese?

Cheese was not a big part of my life growing up. As first generation Asian-Americans, my family considered all dairy products except for milk and Vietnamese-style yogurt to be outlandishly alien. It took over two decades of living in California before my grandmother ventured to eat her Filet o' Fish sandwich with the cheese slice on it, and that was only because we bullied her into trying it. For the first twelve years of my life I thought that Kraft singles were the only form that cheese came in.

Then during my second year at Cal I was struck down by a sudden onset of lactose intolerance, which was equal parts shocking and miserable. I was suddenly unable to eat grilled cheese sandwiches, pizza, macaroni and cheese and, worst of all, cereal without wanting to rip all of my intestines out. Overnight, 3/4 of my diet was rendered impossible.

So cheese was shoved even further away on the back burner, until one night about seven years ago when I dropped in to visit my friend J after a long day at work. Since I hadn't eaten yet, he threw a quick, happy dinner together for me: pb&j on wheat, graham crackers and a slice of white stilton cheese with apricots. And it was like the cheese heavens opened and shone a beam of cheese illumination upon me. That cheese was fricking great. I didn't know cheese could be anything beyond "kind of good". It was instant conversion. I became a cheese believer.

They still sell that stilton at Trader Joe's though I rarely buy it now, because I'm more interested in trying new cheeses. Armed with handy packets of Lactaid pills I am learning more and more about what I can eat without suffering and about the fascinating world of cheesemaking. The picture at the top of this post shows a wonderful cheese course we had at Cyrus up in Healdsburg a couple of years ago. The restaurant actually has their own cheese expert who mans a generously laden cart and helps you pick out different types depending on preferred region, flavor and style. She really inspired me to give more local cheeses a try.

 

My favorite new cheese, however, is anything but local. This is Roaring Forties blue, made by King Island Dairy on a small dot of land off the tip of Tasmania. Located on forty degrees lattitude, the island gets winds up to 100km an hour and has seen more than its fair share of fatal shipwrecks over the past two centuries. But for the most part, the weather here is moderate and lovely with plenty of sun and rain, and so the land is especially fertile. Only two thousand people inhabit King Island and there's basically no pollution. It's a perfect place for farming and apparently, for cheesemaking.

Roaring Forties is made in a wax rind which keeps it moist, smooth, creamy and complex. It's a little sweet and a little nutty and while it still has the wild, salty tang of blue cheese, it's much more manageable. It's definitely blue, but not Blue blue, which is a good thing for this Kraft singles girl. Roaring Forties also gets along so well with wine, fruit and with honey. Golly, does it love honey. And that's a great thing for this Kraft singles girl.

Paulette

Macarons from the San Francisco location of Paulette. This is some good stuff. Not Ladureé or Pierre Hermé quality, perhaps (I wish I could tell you from personal experience), but still markedly delightful and delicious.

Of course, any macron is a good macaron to me lately. In the past few months I've developed an insatiable craving for these little delicacies, these perfect combinations of cookie, candy and cake; of color, structure, beauty and baking.

For years I did not see the draw. They were too syrupy and too fussy. A few years ago I think I managed to choke down maybe one from a beautiful fresh dozen that Jenny bought in Napa. Then one morning at the end of this past February they finally clicked for me. I was having a caramel macaron for breakfast and the light buttercream center, moist sweet cake and crispy paper-thin crust all blended perfectly, I just suddenly got it. There is nothing else quite like these cookies.

Macrons are snooty, of course. The sleek, brassy colors. The porcelain-smooth surfaces. Decorations - painstakingly applied or painted on. And the tricky process of their making, which I'm assured often involves constant unpredictability and hand-wringing. My sister and I were going to make some for Mother's Day but opted to, you know, not stay home experimenting in complete clueless mania for six hours. "They have caramel fleur de sel ones for sale at Europane," I read from a website. "Yeah, let's do that instead," she agreed with alacrity. These pink dragee-flavored Paulettes were a study in the intricacies of almond. The almond flour base of the cookie subtly laced with hints of wedding candy, surrounding a decadent marzipan center.

I think perhaps the greatest thing about macarons is their perfect pairing with a cup of tea. For the most part, I think coffee usually makes an infinitely better beverage match for desserts. Coffee and cake, ristretto and ice cream, caffe corretto and souffle. But macarons were made for tea. My favorite offering from Paulette was the lemon flavor. The cake was so lusciously smooth, wet and full-bodied it was like biting into layers of the very best lemon curd. With a cup of first flush darjeeling it was pure heaven.

Give ya some some, some of this in a bun.

Alright, so a while back Tommy and Judy brought me this tremendously fine assortment of buns, rolls etc. from a Japanese place by the girls' Montessori school called Clover Bakery. They have some really interesting items, i.e. hot dog spaghetti sandwiches. There seems to be a running theme of cramming carbs into carbs at this place. Yakisoba-stuffed croquettes? Cream corn croquette pan?! Their savory items, while unique, seemed a little bit off to me.

Take this unagi pan I picked up on a return visit:

I love unagi. I love bread. I love seaweed. But together they were a strange, dry little creature. I also found it highly suspect that this roll, and other seafood items were unrefrigerated, though I am biased because I once got abominable food poisoning from unagi nigiri. A lot of Clover Bakery's items are also 100x better if you take them home and toast them up a bit first, which isn't that convenient.

Their sweets are really, really nice though. Nothing is too heavy or sugary and everything is quite delicate and pretty looking. Their melon pan, which comes in several flavors, is my favorite. If you are in the area, it's definitely worth a visit for that alone.

Ad Hoc

So I've done some thinking lately about Ad Hoc, the third Thomas Keller restaurant up in wine country. Ad Hoc is his casual family-style establishment, and each day one $49 prix fixe four course menu is offered: a salad, main course, cheese plate and dessert. I like the concept, especially the inclusion of the cheese course, but overall I think the restaurant is a big disappointment.

My first visit was last December on a night where it poured rain. The menu looked promising and included a chickpea salad, an assortment of meats cooked in a Spanish style and, holy cats, chocolate brioche bread pudding. If there is a heaven, and if I make it there, I'm pretty sure the first thing I'm gonna see is a table laden with chocolate brioche bread pudding.

But it sure as heck better not be from the Ad Hoc kitchens. The dessert that cold night was dry and tasteless and I was completely aghast. How you screw up brioche bread pudding is utterly beyond me, especially with bread that, I'm guessing, might've come from the delectable Bouchon bakery. And the assortment of meats turned out to be uninspired sausauge and other odd and nameless cuts blanched to the point of bland melancholy. The cheese was fine. The salad was good, but it certainly wasn't something I couldn't have thrown together myself in about four minutes. We both left muttering unpleasantly about having spent a hundred dollars for this stuff.

Then I heard the buzz about Ad Hoc's famous fried chicken nights and, as one of these evenings happened to fall on a Monday when Jen was in town, I thought I'd give them another shot. The restaurant painstakingly prepares their best dish every other Monday and, as a fried chicken fiend, I was excited. We went up on another rainy night. Arriving at the restaurant we were greeted with warmth and sincerity by an Ad Hocker who assured us that the restaurant "is an amazing place".

Uh huh. Um, what I find amazing is that they can get people to pay $50 a person for this stuff. I will give them this: the fried chicken was the bomb. The meat was crazy juicy and tender and the skin was fried to a perfect extra crispiness that somehow didn't manage to make you feel like you were drinking oil by the cupful. Their batter also retains the essence of wonderful fresh herbs. It's definitely the second best fried chicken I've had, behind 99 Chicken, the unfrickinbelievable Santa Clara Korean fried chicken joint.

But again, the haricot vert and radish salad was good but nothing special, the cheese was ok and the dessert, a lemon yogurt mousse, was fairly forgettable. Again I was slightly infuriated and frustrated at the experience. And this on their "special" night, too.

Something has got to happen with this place. They either have to kick the food up a couple of notches or they've got to bump the price down about ten bucks a person. It's a good idea that went awry in the execution and right now there are so many better places to eat in the Napa area.

The Check:

Food: C
Service: A-
Space: B+
Value: C
Return Possibility:Nope

Chicago Mix

So even though there was Vosges chocolate and deep dish pizza and fricking Alinea, this Garrett's popcorn might very well be the best food I ate in Chicago. Fluffy, fresh and mind-bogglingly flavorful. I live and die by popcorn and I will say that  it is a combination of the best cheddar cheese popcorn and the best carmel corn I've ever had. The sweet and salty tastes together are unbeatable, so much better than either one would be alone. Popcorn gestalt theory.

It was so delicious that I scarfed a ton of it down on the otherwise abysmal flight home. And if something is wonderful even during one of the worst experiences of your life, then you know it is awesome. Jen and Ryan sent me this batch (bless them) and I am blazing through it at an alarming pace. Thank goodness they don't sell this stuff here or I would never eat anything else. It's like Chicago's personal love letter to me.  

Alinea

I hardly know where to begin with this review. That's what happens when you fly two thousand miles (each way) to eat dinner at a restaurant. A twenty-five course meal that the hostess reminds you will last about three and a half to four hours (we finished at almost the five hour mark). A meal which met nearly every insanely lofty expectation I set for it. It's ridiculous, really. There was pureed buttered popcorn. Cake was served on aromatic pillows. Four words: Bacon on a swing. Alinea, you are completely ridiculous and I am quite smitten with you.

What truly sets this restaurant apart is the the whimsy and imagination which touches everything from the decor and he tableware to the service and the food itself. The color and scent of food is magnified and magnificent. The meal had so many textures, some of which I'd never even come near to experiencing before. The entire meal was endlessly playful, surprising and fascinating. A jelly-skinned ball of pure clarified butter. And another one of pure rum. Iberico ham dipped in liquid nitrogen and hung to soften to the perfect temperature at our table. I won't wax rhapsodic about all twenty five tastings but here are some highlights from the meal which I hope will give you an idea of what they're trying to achieve at Alinea:

• Cauliflower: pureed cubes of cauliflower coated in fine crumbs of smoked ham, parmesan, onion, almond and bread. These are all flavors that are supposed to pair well with apple, as a creamy cider soup was poured over them at the table. Basically, just take everything I love in life and throw it in a goddamn bowl. This was my favorite dish of the evening. The cube textures were beyond perfect and there were SO many flavors, all getting along so well together and it just showed me that Grant Achatz really, really knows what he's doing.
• Waygu: Of the highest grade, by far the best waygu I've ever had. Apparently their waygu source only ships ten pieces of this type from Japan each week and Alinea gets six of them. Insanely marbled, it just melted perfectly in the mouth. Also, powdered A-1 Sauce. Say what?? This is silly, I thought, when I opened up the spice packet. But damn was it ever good.
• Black Truffle Explosion: A thin ravioli holds a pure burst of fresh truffle stock and butter. This is the pure, pornographic essence of black truffle. Like black truffles scissor-kicked you in the neck. Outrageously delicious.
• Yuba: Tender sweet shriimp with shichimi togarashi (Japanese 7 Spice) spiralled delicately around a perfectly crisped stick of fried tofu skin; there's nothing particularly outlandish about it, but it looked stunning and tasted wonderful and elevated frickin' tofu skin to the next level.
• Chestnut: This dish really pushed the limit. Really challenged notions my brain holds onto about food. Chestnut puree, quince, cippolino onion, baked potato ice cream, chocolate. This dish is incredibly sweet and incredibly savory at the same time. I declared it a total mindfuck at the table.
• Bubble Gum: Definitely the strangest course of the meal. In fact, one of the strangest I've ever had. A plexiglass tube layered with hibiscus jelly, vanilla bean creme fraiche and tapioca cooked in Bubble Yum bubble gum stock. Oh my god. Apparently, Chef wanted to capture the floral essence of Buble Yum and he discovered that if you cook the stuff down in water, the flavors separate quite well from the gum material. You suck all three layers out of the tube in one shot. And you know what? That stuff was good.

Intensity. It wasn't all fun and games though. There's a wall your body hits and trust me, it hits that wall only about three quarters of the way into twenty five courses with generous wine pairings. At the end of the meal I honestly thought I might enter a true food coma. "I kind of want to die, just from eating so much, " I declared. But I couldn't just send everything back untouched. I'd flown two thousand miles! By the time we got up to leave I felt barraged by food. Like I was a character in a tragic Greek foodie play and Alinea was the chorus telling me to keep stuffing my face with pork belly and waving smoldering sticks of bourbon cinnamon in my face. My palate was utterly exhausted. No, not just exhausted -- laid waste. It's more than a week later and I still feel like a land mine has gone off in my mouth. Alinea, I believe you have ruined me.

So, yes, there's a lot of trappings at this restaurant. And you have to very much surrender yourself to the big experience of it. But none of the ribbons and bows takes away from the fact that the food is quite skillfully prepared and that it is extraordinary. I am so glad I surrendered to it. This was a dinner, it was event. It is something I'll never forget.

Chicago Eats

Yep, I went to Chicago. And while I partially went to see cool things, frankly, I mostly went to eat. Chicago is a magnificent food city. Someday I'd love to go back and see it warm and green and lovely and sample more of their culinary delights.

Deep dish pizza. Cheese pie, really. Yumtastic, even though I'm usually a die-hard thin crust New York-style pizza fan. Thank god I have Zachary's nearby, because this stuff fulfills a very specific, intensely hearty comfort food craving that nothing else will.

What is with me and my love for White Castle? I can't really explain it. I think I enjoy food served in little paper boxes, as wasteful as that might be. I am also rather impressed that they pressed chicken into a patented ring form, even though Chicken Rings were a tad dry. Also, if you go here on Valentine's Day they take your picture in front of a heart-festooned wall. And you get a special commemorative menu. With a coupon on the back.

Also in Chicago, there is basically my dream restaurant: Minnie's. Everything is baby-sized. Wee red plastic water glasses. Diminutive ketchup and mustard squeeze bottles. You can choose from little sliders or 19 other teeny wonderful sandwiches. So you can have variety. And you can have all sorts of different flavors in the same meal. Great fries, too.

I'm currently reviewing my pictures and notes from my dinner at The Restaurant. Sweeties, that meal was a doozy. Look for my thoughts on it soon :)

Roll With It

You know what I really want right now? Really, really good sushi. With fresh wasabi. Top quality and super delicious. I'm talking mind-blowing sashimi. Of course, I also have a special place in my heart for sushi from Japanese places that are geared towards non-Japanese clientele. These restaurants always toss eight million random ingredients together and top them with a too-sweet sauce. I'm always amazed at how many crazy rolls they have on their menu. There's a place in Monrovia that I often go to when I'm down in Southern California. It's the epitome of pseudo-Japanese food, but I love how bizarre and playful they are with the names of their rolls. My favorites:

Homeless roll
Jalapeno Bomb
Angry Dragon roll
Cucumber & Associates
Marilyn Monroll

Providence

In 2007, a holiday meal at Chez TJ when Christopher Kostow was in residence proved to be my unexpected favorite meal of the year. A couple of months ago, a similar scenario occurred. The day after Christmas I went to Providence in Los Angeles and had an extraordinary dinner, a meal which I will rank as the best of 2008, even if it did squeak in at the very tail end of a great culinary year.

What can I say? It was simply wonderful. The food was remarkably delicious, fresh and rich and interesting. Providence is quite deserving of its recently rewarded second Michelin star. After a long debate we went with an a la carte dinner over one of their prix fixe offernings and I thoroughly enjoyed nearly every course. They are doing wonders with seafood here. Every single element on the plate is there for a reason and, when combined, they make up something that is greater than the sum of its parts. The service was outstanding on every level. The maitre'd was open,friendly and fun to chat with and we did not want for anything. I am convinced that this is the best restaurant in Los Angeles right now.

Classic:

• Icelandic char with beets, Neuske's bacon and mustard emulsion. Pure foodgasm. This fish was exquisite - cooked barely medium rare, so that it had the sweetness of sashimi, but with the skin somehow crisped up so it had an excellent texture and flavor. Combine this with excellent bacon and beets so good I could cry. Honestly, I refused to speak the entire time I was eating this because I wanted to focus all my senses and brainpower on it.
• Hokkaido scallop tartare - with honey, sherry vinegar, little minced turnips and the most wonderful crispy buckwheat bits. A perfect combination, masterfully done.
• One of the amuse bouche, a celery soup with truffle oil and creme fraiche, somehow tasted exactly like Spaghetti-O's. It was super trippy.
• Their house bread is bacon brioche. Bacon. Brioche.
• I went to use the lady's room only to see someone walk in there right ahead of me. I was waiting about 20 seconds when the host came up and asked to lead me to a second guest bathroom in another part of the restaurant so I wouldn't have to wait. This really needs to happen more in life.
• The sommelier put together a nice wine pairing for our a la carte choices and the cost was very reasonable, much less than we would've spent on a bottle.
• Very cool music - and you know how much that would mean to me! I heard Beck, Rilo Kiley and Radiohead.

Dud

• We didn't sit in the main dining room, but a smaller rectangular side room. It was a bit cramped in there. The restaurant's presentation for the Japanese wagyu ribeye takes place on this big wooden slab and once they brought it to our table it blocked of all the walking space. Their was some very awkward maneuvering.
• A meal here costs a pretty penny. The food quality was worth it, but it's hard to justify a meal this costly more than once a year. It's a real shame. I'd love to see what they do with ingredients over the seasons.
• My dessert, Jonalicious sous vide apples with pine nut puree and barley ice cream. The apples were limp and not very flavorful. The other stuff was not sweet in the least. Certainly not what I'm looking for in dessert. I was disappointed because they're supposed to have great sweets. They even have dessert-only tasting menus.

The Check:

Food: A+
Service: A+
Space: B+
Value: A-
Return Possibility:Yes!

Honey and Lemon

One of my Flickr friends made this honey, lemon and ginger drink the other day because she was sick. I, who had jinxed myself by bragging obnoxiously about how I hadn't been ill in forever and was simply basking in the glow of great health, made it this past weekend to address my well-deserved sniffles and aches.

This stuff really works. I'm not saying it cures a cold but it definitely lessens the blow of the symptoms. I'm guessing it all has to do with the fresh ginger, which makes it just delicious, spicy and warm. Don't go back in time and tell eight year old me, but I've come to realize in the past year that ginger is fantastic stuff.

More things I like more the older I get: vinegar, avocados, tofu, cauliflower

Some things I like less the older I get: bananas, raisins, raw onions, carrots

Luce

Chef Dominique Crenn was Esquire magazine's 2008 pick for Chef of the Year. On the tail of this announcement we headed up to the Intercontinental Hotel in San Francisco to see what the restaurant had to offer. Personal time constraints (a post-meal concert at the Cafe du Nord) and the fact that the reservation was 30 minutes past the restaurant's tasting menu cutoff time, had us each ordering a first course, a second course and an entree.

The ingredients were all very fresh and lovely to look at. The plating of each course was delightful; colorful and interesting without being over the top whimsical. The food was pretty good, but nothing extraordinary, nothing particularly notable. The portions were big, which I thought was a pleasant change for a nicer restaurant. The second courses especially were quite generous, to the point where we had to box up a good half of them. The choices were all pastas and they were very heavy and rich. Also heavy? The check. Also rich? Well, not us after the bill was paid.

Classic

• Surf and Turf Carpaccio (pictured here) - How gorgeous are these super thin slices of sashimi salmon, arctic char and beef? And the taste of these items together was fantastic, too.
• The wine pourings weren't skimpy and I appreciate that. We indulged in a glass of champagne to start because they offered my beloved Moet & Chandon White Star. As familiar as I am with this brand, I saw immediately that I could get an entire bottle for the cost of two glasses. It irks a little less when they pour you a generous portion.
• Some interesting flavor combinations that worked. The addition of pickled Savoy cabbage with my Hawaiian butterfish and the pairing of huckleberry chocolate sauce with the Dude's venison course was inspired and tasty.

Dud

• Surf and Turf Carpaccio accompaniments - There's a black olive "soil" sprinkled on a few of the starters and I am not exactly sure what's going on here. They are small crunchy morsels very similar to coffee grounds that do not taste like black olives at all. They add a bit of a texture component but overall I find it very distracting. The carpaccio also came with a black olive ice cream which tasted pretty phooey. I'm a fan of olive ice cream but this was reminiscent of dirt. They should've called this the black olive soil.
• The space. Yes, this is a hotel restaurant. Hotel restaurants are often huge and open and impersonal. But this was beyond any breaks I'm willing to grant. There was no real entrance to the restaurant we could see. You walked past the bar and you were suddenly just there. We were seated in an extra dining room and it just felt kind of dismal. Not that the room wasn't nice. It was okay, and I appreciate the airy openness of it. I was just really, really aware that we were in the lobby of a hotel.
• Price. Ouch, we've have better meals at this caliber for half the price. Luckily there was enough food that we had the doggy bags so I guess we paid for a meal and a half? I think the tasting menu would've worked better for us.
• However -- tasting menu cutoff time. Dude, what restaurant shuts off their tasting menu service at 8 p.m.??

The Check:

Food: B
Service: A-
Space: C-
Value: C
Return Possibility: Medium, though I am interested in their brunch

Bubbly

I have entered into quite a wonderful love affair with champagne recently. I've always enjoyed sparkling wines, but this year I've really tried to explore different champagne brands, drink combinations and food pairings. It's really paid off.

Right before Thanksgiving I hosted a mini champagne cocktails bar at a holiday gathering and I wanted to share the drink recipes here. Sparkling wines are so perfect for the holiday season and really make everyone feel delightfully festive. Any champagne will do for these recipes, although my favorite for them is Moet & Chandon White Star, an Extra Dry rather than a Brut. Good old Asti Spumante is also a crowd pleaser.

Classic Champagne Cocktail:

Drop 2 dashes of bitters on a sugar cube and place in the bottom of your flute. Add champagne, curl a lemon twist at the rim and watch the bubbles rise :)

Black Velvet (pictured):

Combine equal parts stout beer and champagne and admire the fine foamy head that forms. Exceptionally smooth, like a sweet and sassy Black & Tan.

French 75:

Combine 1 tbsp simple syrup, 1 1/2 tbs lemon juice, 2 oz gin and fill with champagne, garnish with a lemon twist. Please do use simple syrup instead of sugar (I think it makes a huge difference). And please do be very careful. French 75s are named after a WWI 75mm rapid-fire French gun and they do hit you like a torpedo!

Coi

At the far end of the red light district in North Beach in San Francisco you will find Coi, which is a stone's throw and yet a far, far cry from the strip clubs which line a couple blocks of Broadway. Everything about this place is clean, simple and exquisite. I believe it's supposed to be a molecular gastronomy experience. There's a lot of emphasis on food textures, teasing the senses, tastes that don't feel like they usually do. Each dish was interesting and fresh without being overdone. Not pretentious, not strange just for the sake of being different. It's still good, solid food. No, wait. It's still great, solid food.

There was but one dish I was kind of disappointed with, which is a remarkable considering there were eleven or twelve courses. While there were not many items at which I exclaimed helplessly, "this is one of the greatest things I've ever eaten", overall I'd have to say it was one of the best meals I've had the pleasure of enjoying. Throughout the almost three hour meal I anxiously anticipated each next course, which is such a delightful thing. Their upgrade from single to two Michelin Stars was certainly well deserved. Also the bomb? Celebrity sighting! I was seated about four feet away from Michael J. Fox in Coi's very small dining room. Holler at your girl, Teen Wolf.

Classic

• Wine pairings - Not just great wines but a very nice sake, a great Belgian beer and some lovely Peach lambic as well. Very cool.
• Milk and honey - super intensely concentrated flavors of both of these ingredients in a small liquid-filled jelly capsule. Surprising and got us geared up for this meal.
• "Oysters Under Glass" - beautiful oysters flavored with a tangy yuzu sauce and rau raum, presented under a clear gelatinous sheet. Gorgeous.
• Squash soup  - like silk. Glorious, buttery smooth warm squashy silk. Poured at the table over pomegranate seeds and little pieces of super crisp asian pear. The juicy, sharp crunch of the pomegranate seeds in the rich fall flavor of the soup was remarkable.
• Matsutake mushrooms - So simple and so good. Grilled on the plancha and served with potato and pine needle puree. Okay, first of all, you can puree pine needles?? Whoever thought of this is a genius because the puree was divine, and the mushrooms golden and satisfying.
• Quince and huckleberry parfait - I'd punch your mama to get my hands on another serving of this. Delicately sweet huckleberry puree and lemon thyme granita topped with a wondrous foamy cream and generously studded with godlike almond brittle pieces. The combination of cold, creaminess, fruit, salty and sweet is just transcendent.
• Vanilla and olive-oil milkshake - served with a little chocolate chip cookie. A smooth and complex version of a classic comfort item.
• The maitre'd came and talked to us for a very long time at the end of our meal. He was very gracious and seemed genuinely interested in our thoughts on the restaurant.

Dud

• Earth and Sea - steamed tofu mousseline with fresh seaweed. The texture of the super fresh tofu was marvelous but this dish sure was lacking in the flavor department. It was strange, because it was the sole dish that seemed to have distinct asian flavors so I wanted it to really stand out. 
• Shiny beets - I'm sorry, but what is this? Three nickle-sized slices of beet on a plate with some vaguely citrusy oil?? Gah. Look, I love me some beets. I eat beets every week. A world class restaurant has got to do something with one of my favorite ingredients that is at least slightly more impressive than what I can buy on a regular basis for two dollars at Trader Joe's.
• Vegetables Late Fall - This was so close to being awesome. A beautiful and artistically arranged plate of teeny root vegetables, herbs and sauces with a crumbly cocoa powder. The cocoa was startling. So unexpected at first but quickly addicting. However, the vegetables themselves were lacking in flavor. They have absolutely nothing on the almost jewel-like deliciousness of what's coming out of the gardens at Manresa.
• Michel Cluizel chocolate ganache - with violet ice cream. I barely remember it. Not a good sign. Please someone make a tasting menu chocolate dessert that wows me!

The Check:

Food: A
Service: B+
Space: A
Value: A
Michael J. Fox: A
Return Possibility: Definite

Restaurant Gary Danko

Gary Danko's had been on the top of my Places to Try list for the past two years, so you can imagine my excitement leading up to dinner there a couple of weeks ago. This restaurant came heavily lauded by critics and eagerly recommended by a number of friends, and if they were on Open Table I would've visited long before this. But cobble my phone phobia to the fact that the restaurant name has "dank" in it, and the opportunity never arose before now.

What was I expecting? Simply good food. And yes, the food was good. It was great. It's kind of a no-brainer to say that dinner at Gary Danko's was a wonderful meal. Obviously this is a "treat yourself once in a long while" type of place but I really think it is a wonderful choice for a special occasion. A little stuffy, but impressive.

Classic:

• One of the best servings of foie gras I've ever had. It was perfectly seared, so delicious and the Fuji apples were a great accompaniment.
• Very nice Maine lobster. Turns out lobster and corn is a really great combination. Who knew?
• Exceptional service. Second to the French Laundry only. And maybe not even second. Everyone was warm, knowledgeable, gracious and friendly. They actually had regular conversations with us. I truly felt they were going the extra mile to make us feel welcome and make sure we didn't want for anything.
• A very nice cheese service. Our server took a generous amount of time and energy to explain the nuances between their 14 different cheese offerings. I had a great Brillat Savarin that I'm still thinking about.

Dud:

• It's not fair to gripe about this, but the tables were really too close together. The restaurant doesn't have much space, but for such a romantic place, it just felt rather intrusive.
• Half the people there looked snotty and mean. This has nothing to do with the restaurant itself, I don't think. But looking around I noticed that some of the patrons looked annoyingly annoyed. You know, noses all in the air and with their arms crossed whenever they weren't putting food in their mouths. Dude, you're at a world class restaurant on a Monday night eating marvelous food, drinking lovely wine. Stop scowling and get your head out of your ass.
• I felt dreadfully full and bloated and just plain uncomfortable after this meal. I know it's dumb to exclaim over the food being too rich when I personally chose foie gras followed by lobster, then duck breast, a cheese plate and a poached pear with gingerbread. But I've eaten similar menus in the past and didn't feel quite the same need to have my stomach pumped. 
• The otherwise great attention to detail dropped off with the hot tea service I ordered. A teabag was used, not loose leaves. There wasn't a vessel to dispose of the teabag (this is a malady common to restaurants). And they brought a little pitcher of cream with my oolong. Ack--who puts milk in oolong?

The Check:

Food: A-
Service: A+
Space: B
Value: A-
Return Possibility: High

Orson

Orson is a cool little place in the SOMA/South Beach area, brought to you by Elizabeth Falkner (owner of Citizen Cake). Thin, wood fired pizzas are offered along with seasonal American cuisine. The downstairs area of this restaurant, which is located in an old factory space, is dominated by a large oval bar and bordered by little sofa+coffee table eating clusters. A smaller second floor is filled with tables that look down over the action.

I was struck most by how fun the menu items are. Everything sounds fresh but hearty at the same time. The chocolate, sea salt, chili pepper and olive oil pizza was what first caught my attention, but the menu is full of interesting things like grilled peaches with farro or a salad of arugala, chicharrones and watermelon. Very vibrant and energetic. However, I don't believe most of the dishes actually delivered on their potential. Most of the dishes were lacking in one way or another. Reading the menu I expected three backflips and a double twist. What we got was more like a really cheerful cartwheel and happy wave.

Classic

• Duck fat fries. Okay, to be fair, this dish taken alone was a round off, quadruple back handspring, round off back tuck. Fricking amazing. Fried perfectly, served piping hot, crisp as a January dawn, bursting with flavor. The browned butter bearnaise on the side was pure heaven. Seriously, I think these were the best fries I've ever eaten. And anytime you can say that you had the BEST of something you've ever tried, especially when it's something as simple and as transcendent as fries can be, well, that's really saying something.
• An awesome cocktail called the New Fashioned: bourbon, apple, lemon, mint, soda. An incredible combination of flavors. So refreshing and delicious.
• Really great service. Everyone was obliging and friendly. We requested an upstairs table and no one else joined us on the second floor. They had to run up and down a zillion times just to help one table and they were quite gracious about it.

Dud

• There's way too much going on downstairs, with all the loungey seating and a low res movie playing on one big wall, a la Foreign Cinema. It also has a smachltzy club-like feel which is not my thing at all.
• My entree, The Wondrous Pig. Pork prepared five ways: roast loin, pig juice ravioli, a rib, crisped belly and a trotter croquette. Not a single one of them was very good at all. Fantastic idea to showcase all the flavors of pork. Not so hot on the execution.
• The dessert. I know. The owner of Citizen Cake and her pastry chef having less than spectacular desserts on the menu? Ouch. We had a sampler plate of four different offerings, all of them lackluster.

The Check:

Food: C+, fries alone: A+
Service: A
Space: C
Value: B
Return Possibility: Dinner - nay, cocktails and bar food - yay

Clementine

 

This little French restaurant in the Inner Richmond served up the most solidly delicious meal I've had in a long time. There's nothing new-fangled or thought-provoking here, just classic dishes done just right. Even though I was utterly delighted by the food, I'd have to say that the highlight of last Sunday's visit to Clementine occurred when we left the restaurant. Chef Philippe Gardelle was standing at the bar ready to bid us adieu. He clasped me firmly at the elbows, thanked me warmly for coming and then announced “kisses!” right before he planted a big wet one on my cheek. Kisses!!!

Classic

• Best. Sweetbreads. Ever. Porcini crusted and served with slices of the cepes, delicately fried leeks and the perfect white truffle sauce. Outstanding.
• Very attentive service. Everyone here works as a team and it really, really shows.
• Honey glazed coquelet that was wonderfully tender and flavorful.
• I know it's silly to mention it again, but "Kisses!!" Seriously, I heard that Chef Gardelle personally greets and thanks all of his guests and I think that's just swell.

Dud

• The restaurant is small and its tables are very, very close together. If we weren't eating so damn early in order to attend a show, I could see it being obnoxiously crowded.
• There was a slight air of stuffiness, again perhaps due to the early reservation time. Five thirty dinner is like, the withcing hour for grandmas.
• All of the waitstaff are native French speakers. Now that part was cool, but when our server brought out our gruyere choux puff amuse bouche he rattled off a declaration entirely in French that only the fluent could hope to understand. I nodded at him in dismayed response. 
• The English peas that came with my entree were undercooked, hard and chewy in a bad way.
• I think they are trying to kill patrons with their restrooms. First of all, the bathrooms have an automatic timer system which shuts off all the lights after about three minutes--quite alarming. And then the floor right outside the bathrooms is diabolically slippery. They must butter it on a daily basis. 

The Check:

Food: A
Service: A
Space: C
Value: A
Kisses: A
Return Possibility: Can't Wait

C8 H10 N4 O2

This is my first spot of caffeine in over 40 hours and i cannot explain how sensational I feel right now. My blood is streaming with pure elation.

I decided to skip my morning tea/coffee yesterday and go with this other thing instead. It's called sleep, and I've heard a lot of people raving about it. Well, they're all suckers because sleep sucks ass. Caffeine is where the party's at. Even though I'm just having my powdered 3 in 1 Vietnamese coffee, life is good. I almost went out and got the real stuff at Lee's Sandwiches, but it's probably for the best that I stayed put. My pupils are almost painfully dilated as it is.

Seriously, I feel splendidly focused right now, like I could solve the hardest geometry problem in the world, or something. I also feel this almost bouncy artificial happiness, like I'm ready to fold a whole menagerie of balloon animals. Or maybe like I'm about to surreptitiously beat your ass down, like a freaking ninja, you foolioface!

The Omnivore's Hundred

My family, we're adventurous eaters. We'll try anything once. And if we live we'll probably be back for more. A couple of weeks ago my sister and I sat down to our burgers and o-rings at The Hat only to berate ourselves for not noticing the taqueria across the way first. "Cabeza, birria y lengua," I read. "Head, goat and tongue! Pod, we could've eaten head meat tacos!" Audrey's pretty much game for anything. She doesn't share my love of spicy foods and offal, but she will eat fish eyeballs. We both agreed that cabeza was a golden opportunity lost.

I've finally gotten around to filling out this food meme from one of my favorite food blogs, Very Good Taste. Of the 100 "must eat" foods, I've gotten around to all but 20 items! Rock on, me! Please partake if you are so inclined. From the original entry:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile (tastes like chicken)
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich (highly reccomended: PB with bacon and banana, first tried in Scottsdale)
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart (bacon-wrapped, please)
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras ( <3 )
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea (made the whole thing from scratch, thank you)
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (worms only, don't think I could stomach anything with a really crunchy carapace)
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more (I'm representing for them gangsters all around the world)
46. Fugu (#1 item on my food wish list)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin ( <3 )
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips (always use these to make "brownies" for my dog at xmas)
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin (woah, wait. Isn't this clay?? I've spread this on my face before. Does that count?)
64. Currywurst
65. Durian (not fresh, though. Just as an ingredient.)
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe (alas, the green fairy did not appear. But I did make a face at the anise taste.)
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill (well, perhaps. I need details before deciding.)
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant. ( Twice :O . And El Bulli, hold on. I'm coming. )
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

Hot, Hot, Hot

In the past few months I've become insatiably obsessed with spicy foods. The hotter, the better. If I am not crying uncontrollably some time during a meal, I'll leave severely disappointed. I think I'd save myself a lot of time and money by drinking lava.

If there are cartoon pictures of chili peppers on a restaurant's menu, they merit a flaming star of happiness. If they make their own marinated peppers which you can help yourself to using little plastic tongs--that's another flaming star. If they offer not one, not two, but three types of raging hot salsa on each table--that's like godhood.

I think this all began when Jen and I had the kimchee fried rice at 99 Chicken last year. That had to be the spiciest thing I've ever tried to eat. We had to gently lay cold leaves of lettuce from the salad bar in our mouths just to continue breathing and talking to each other. That meal seemed to break open some sort of spice dam which had previously existed in my brain. Ever since then I'll have a day or two each week where I crave fire. I'm even putting Sriracha on fruit, people. I am depraved.

This has opened my eyes up to all new eating experiences and for the first time I'm able to talk spicyfoods with other revelers. It's exciting stuff and I apparently still have much to learn.

Last weekend at Young Dong Tofu in Arcadia, Kerry and John and I all ordered the stone pot tofu soup.

Server: How spicy would you like your soup?
K: Not spicy, please! (Her soup came out looking pitiably albino.)
S: And you, miss? How spicy for the tofu?
B: Extra spicy. (That was two chili peppers, the flaming star of happiness maximum listed on the menu.)
S: Sir? How would you like yours?
J: I want to die. I want it to be so spicy, that when I eat it, I will die.

Delfina

I'd heard so many raves about this Italian restaurant in the Mission district over the past few years that I was almost afraid to try it. I tend to narrow-mindedly associate Italian cuisine with dreaded swathes of lackluster tomato sauce (I am not a fan of most tomato foodstuffs), so Italian is not my go-to for restaurants. But Delfina definitely lived up to its hype, and then some.

We found ourselves a block from the restaurant a couple of weeks ago, hungry for dinner and lucky enough to get immediate seating at the counter. It was a balmy and carefree evening, filled to the brim with compelling conversation (amongst our party and with fellow diners and the restaurant staff), interesting wines and fantastic food. Overall, it was an unforgettable meal, the kind of night where you feel perfectly warm with contentment and realize that, really, your life is filled with goodness. What a wonderful place.

Classic

• Castelvetrano olives - Served soaked in a lemony oil, warm from the oven in a terra cotta dish. Perfectly simple and succulent. This was true heaven.
• A great wines by the glass selection, with nice Italian and California picks. Their wines are so well suited to the food.
• Fresh-cured anchovies "nostrano". I'd never had fresh anchovies before. The subtle flavor of the fish in extra-virgin olive oil was rich and rustic. A great dish to eat with the little slices of bread that they leave for you. I was amused to see this under the "Salads" section of the menu.
• The front of the restaurant, at least in the summer, has the most beautiful natural lighting.
• A semi-open kitchen and prep area. We sat right by this and it was very cool to watch some of their plating.

Dud

• Menu structure. They've got a "Primi" section which is all pasta based and a "Secondi" section which is all meat and fowl. Getting one of each would be way too much food, but it would've been nice to be able to try both a protein and a pasta.
• The shortribs with polenta were magnificently hearty and "roasty", almost too much so. A gremolata (garlic, lemon, parsley mix) wasn't citric or strong enough to provide the necessary relief.
• Tables are very teeny and close together. I was actually glad for once that we sat at the bar. We were just a few feet away from the front windows and I was caught staring off dreamily more than once.

The Check:

Food: A
Service: A
Space: B-
Value: B
Return Possibility: Definite

The Sweetest Thing

Do you know, the thing with good cherries is that you must have the patience to wait until they are perfectly ripe, and oftentimes this will take days. If you try one the first day they're home, a good cherry will be already be very, very good and then you start thinking, who wants to wait?

Especially because you'll lose a few of them in waiting. That's the sign. A few will start to bruise and pucker and it will seem like such a shame, but that just means it's finally time. I can't really think of anything else to compare the simple, glad lusciousness to. I'll only say that it is outrageously worth the wait to wake early on a Saturday morning, eat a bowlful of perfect cherries, feel sunlight and be lucidly greedy for sweetness.

Oh, Sweetheart - Shout Out Louds

Café Boulud

I haven't written any restaurant reviews for the past three months or so. Not for a lack of cool eateries visited (Range, Burma Superstar, NamiNami and return visits to Chez TJ, Ame and Parcel 104). I think just out of sheer laziness. But I realized a couple of weeks ago that my recollection of a meal fades so quickly if I don't make note of what was enjoyable. If I write it down, it cements the experience in my brain. Reading my own description of one course eaten on a given night can unspool the whole evening in my memory.

So Café Boulud. I latched onto the idea of visiting one of the Daniel Boulud-fronted restaurants in New York City. And because New Yorkers are even more maniacal about good eats than Bay Area foodies I was not able to procure a table at Daniel. Café Boulud, with it's seasonal menu of modern French dishes, turned out to be a good choice, though. It sat comfortably in a space between formal and comfortable, between traditional and neoteric.

Classic

• Red Snapper cocktail - A Bloody Mary in fancy pants. Jalapeno infused gin (and I do love me some gin) & tomato juice over celery ice cubes. I needed a drink in the worst way and this really did the trick. Café Boulud has a great house cocktails list.
  
• Diplomatic service. I was pretty tired when we arrived and I semi-stumbled in. There was definitely an upset place setting when I sat down. We were also the loudest table in the joint. And Susan asked for three dishes of butter, I think. But the staff was very respectful and mannerly throughout the meal. 
• Such good hamachi in the appetizer I ordered. I'm so used to eating at lower/mid range sushi places it's easy to forget what the good shit tastes like. The ponzu sauce was impeccable.
• Poppin' fresh madeleines dusted with powdered sugar during dessert!

Dud

• Crustiest rolls in history. Every time we broke off a piece of bread, a shower of crust meteorites would spray across the table.
• Hell of old people in attendance. I'm talking some stodgy-looking fuckers. Definitely gave the place an air of mustiness. Is the AARP passing out Café Boulud coupons or something?
• Dessert was pretty lame. Aside from the madeleines we had one of those dessert domes that seem so popular nowadays. It's spongey cake and fruit puree encased in a of softish shell. The whole thing ends up looking pretty, but tasting blah. This was no exception. The fromage blanc sorbet accompaniment was the only saving grace.
• All of the food was good, but nothing stood out as fantastic. For the same price, or less, you can get much better food in this city.

The Check:

Food: B
Service: B+
Space: C
Value: B-
Return Possibility: Fair

Keep It Fresh

I got home from work early enough one night last week to take some extra time putting dinner together. Ironically, this dinner didn't need to be cooked (only the corn required a few minutes of heat), but I did linger over many small details. I had a pleasant bottle of Columbia Valley Riesling and a fridge full of vibrant produce. The perfect thing to accompany my wine was an assortment of barely prepared tastes. A vegetarian panchan, if you will. An almost raw food tapas. I had:

• super-sweet and crunchy corn on the cob
• my beloved baby beets from Trader Joe's, already steamed and ready to eat
• radishes two ways (preparations from Orangette): First, radishes sliced neatly in half topped with a swipe of butter and a sprinkling of red Hawaiian alaea salt. The second style was radish toasts. Slices of fresh toasted baguette topped again with butter, salt and the radishes sliced very thin. So, SO delicious. I foresee radishes appearing quite often at my table this summer. For those who don't like their arteries that clogged, they're also tasty with just the salt, no butter.
• Nantes carrots, smaller and more cylindrical than the typical supermarket carrot. They have a nice sweetness and I feel they stay crisp longer.
• cotija cheese and strawberries - So proud of this little dish! I grew the tiny organic strawberries myself and every time I walk by the plant I'm all smiles. I can't believe it thrived and produced good, edible berries. Not sure why I thought to pair them with Mexican cheese. I've been obsessed with the crumbly, salty goodness of Mexican cheese lately and have deluded myself into thinking it goes with everything.

This dinner was such a nice change-up from what I'd usually have. I was as full from the bright colors, fresh flavors and fanciful arrangements as I was from the good food. Probably more so--dude, this was totally a rabbit food meal. But it was an unexpected feast for the senses.

Sweet Deal

I was listening to All Things Considered today, and there was a news bit about how Mars is acquiring Wrigley, effectively making them a Super Mega Candy Monster. A press conference sound clip had a Mars exec announcing that they would soon have "the resources and the critical mass" to explore candy experiments previously unknown.

Candy critical mass is pretty extreme, but I'm curious as to what confectionery heights will finally be realized. "Chocolate chewing gum?" joked one of the reporters. TOO LATE, bitches. Hershey's already beat you to the punch with the abomination known as Hershey's Chocolate Bubble Yum. Verdict: gross. I spit it out in the Cinearts movie theater at Santana Row.

I can only hope that they work on gummi candy innovations; the world is sorely lacking in futuristic gummi technology. I also hope they don't fuck with Juicy Fruit. Juice is soft, yo. Juice is soft.

Bi-Rite

I am of the opinion that there are very few problems in this world that can not be bettered with the help of a Salted Caramel ice cream cone from the Bi-Rite Creamery.

I have partaken of this otherworldly dessert wonder twice now in three days and I can firmly pronounce that, although it hasn't made my problems disappear, per se, it has changed my perspective. Enlightened the mind, I say.

Who am I to complain about any negative comings and goings in my life when this ice cream exists, with its intricate salty, bitter, nutty fleur de sel and burnt sugar flavors, churned daily in a perfect balance of creamy sweetness, and I am able to have it. Yesterday night, with its snappy, irascible wind, certainly did not call for ice cream, but my cone was still divinely good (actually, shivering and teeth chattering: "r-r-eally g-g-g-good".)

The Browned Butter Pecan wasn't too shabby either, although slightly less altering than the Salted Caramel. Thank the gods I live a good hours drive away from this place and can't go there for each and every meal as I actually long to.

Peanut Butter Jelly Time

PB&J in the car for lunch.

I don't know what's worse:

1) the fact that the Ancient Grains bread I used was ice cold and had rubbery crusts and that's why I hate storing bread in the fridge but if you don't it gets moldy after 3 days ALWAYS, wtf.

2) The fact that I fell for the gimmicky ass concept of using Ancient Grains (apparently the bread has minute portions of hulled millet, teff, spelt flakes, red sorghum, quinoa, golden flax seed, amaranth and kamut flakes) and paid extra for this bread. Like, what is that even supposed to mean, anyways? What good is it that I ate a molecule of teff today? And the bread has fricking molasses in it. So it's actually good. So I'll probably overspend on it again. Or

3) that I just globbed Skippy Super Chunk and strawberry preserves onto my forest green, super comfy, I love and hate it because makes me look like I'm Link from the Legend of Zelda Anthropologie top.

Still, peanut butter and jelly rules the school. I should really remember to buy some Ziploc bags. 

Time to buy mad lottery tickets.

I'm quite the fan of fortune cookies and, since I don't eat much chinese takeout, I'll actually buy a box of them every so often at the grocery store. The latest package I picked up at 99 Ranch Market taste pretty good, but what sets them apart is that most of the cookies have multiple fortunes. I got two cookies in a row with four slips in them:

S and I each collected a nice stack of fortunes one morning at work last week, just from having a few of the cookies for breakfast. I have a little vintage tin which I'm trying to fill with fortunes over time and this one package has basically doubled my collection.

"But how do you know which fortune is actually true?" J asked me. "They're all true," I said after a moment's thought. "You have to read them like a story."

The lines that this baking company utilizes are on the unusual side. There was a very specific one instructing me to buy flowers for a good friend the next day. And that fortune about studying revenge? I've gotten it number of times already (kind of weirding me out.) Some very sweet sayings appear, but there's some bizarre things too:

Early to Bed, Not So Early to Rise

Some of you know of my longstanding war against the hellbeast known as insomnia. I try to make mention of it only once in the longest while here because I know how dreadfully boring it is. In summation, many nights over the past twenty years I've wondered if and when I'll be able to rest. So you'd think I would know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I've been sleeping an awful lot lately and it's starting to creep me out.

For the past three weeks or so I've been averaging about 9 or 10 (sometimes even 11, sweet gee that's nearly HALF the day) hours of shuteye a night, which is tantamount to a miracle. I usually start my evening's work at 10 p.m. but now the siren call of bed is heard in my brain at that very hour. The first week of Massive Bedtimes I at least had the decency to get up at seven. Now I stay dead asleep til nine in the morning most days. It's unnerving and I almost want it to stop. I surmise, though, that the recent purchase of new comfy p.j.s and that bedding that is made from t-shirt material is not helping my cause out at all.

"But you feel good, don't you?" J asked me yesterday. "You feel alert even into the afternoons?" That is true. I'm drinking less caffeine now which is good because I am so in love with Blue Bottle coffee that I never want anything else, and I haven't found a place in Santa Clara that brews it. Ever since I had a double-dose of this delicious stuff while making the pilgrimage to Blue Bottle Cafe a couple of weeks ago, I have craved it intensely. I dream of this coffee during my very long hours of sleep. And I couldn't think of a nicer way to spend Sunday morning than to pop up to Fraiche with my Eee PC and enjoy a made-to-order single drip mug of their Bella Donovan blend. Lazy, thoughtful and awake, writing and reading and dreaming; which I think is an almost perfect morning.

Black Coffee In Bed - Squeeze

see through in the sunlight

If you bake with real vanilla pods, don't throw them away after you use them! You can make some wonderful vanilla lemonade with the used beans.

I used the vanilla I had leftover from baking madeleines for Valentine's Day and followed a recipe for Vanilla Meyer Lemonade I read over at one of my favorite food blogs, Vanilla Garlic. I'm a freak for lemonade (well, for anything lemon) and the vanilla flavor gives it depth and a little bit of stateliness. I funneled mine into an old mojito soda bottle I'd saved and because I'm a lush I like to mix it with limoncello and drink it while I'm watching America's Best Dance Crew. That's happytimes.

Craft Los Angeles

My first experience with a Craft restaurant was in 2005 at the original NYC location with Sophia, Hunter, Brian and Jean. It was a wonderful night; a very good meal. Last Saturday night I had the opportunity to dine at the Craft Los Angeles outpost. Tom Colicchio has gotten better with time. It was a great evening.

The dinner menu at Craft is separated into four categories: First Course, Meat, Sides and Dessert. With four of us each choosing a different item from each category, and the food portioned and served family style, there was a gorgeous and endless array of beautiful food to enjoy.

What I particularly enjoyed about Craft Los Angeles? It's just L.A. enough to be fun, but not so much that it gets annoying. There's not one, not two but three hosts at their entrance. They open the restaurant doors for you while you approach them down a long walkway and they greet you with alacrity. It makes you feel a teeny bit important in a silly way.

Classic:

• Delicious food: Some of the culinary highlights: Pork Belly & Madras Curry, Japanese Wagyu New York Strip Steak, Pureed Butternut Squash with Spiced Molasses, Rose Gold Grits with Vermont Cheddar, Panna Cotta with vodka Mangos and an Ice Cream Parfait with Maple Cream and Bacon Bits.
• The kitchen was just awesome about accommodating some specific ingredient requests we had, and the staff was very communicative and thoughtful.
• The Wagyu. Oh, sweet golly. Steak that melts in your mouth in buttery, savory splendor. I'm pretty sure there's a heaven because I'm pretty sure they eat this strip steak there.
• A really nice wine list. Good variety and nice picks.
• Prolific usage of Staub cast iron pieces.
• A beautifully designed space with wonderful atmosphere. Comfortable, handsome, perfectly lit and just cool.

Dud:

• Things felt kind of rushed for part of the meal. I know the restaurant is busy, but they brought the main courses out without clearing our first courses first, which was a bit overwhelming.
• Halfway through the meal, one of the managers(?) came and loomed awkwardly over our table, mistakenly thinking we had requested to speak with him. He seemed about 7 foot tall and I think we gaped at him in abashed confusion for a couple of minutes.
• I was hoping to see, like, Johnny Depp there. I did not see him. Yeah, I guess I'm just making stuff up to complain about.

The Check:

Food: A
Service: A
Space: A+
Value: A (Craft is definitely a special occasion experience)
Return Possibility: Definite

Soft Lobster

This chocolate boob and the wonderful fleur de sel caramel in the background were, unfortunately, the best part of our Valentine's Dinner at Aqua. It's unfortunate because these Recchiuti bonbons that were given as a parting gift had nothing really to do with the restaurant at all. To say we were let down by the food at Aqua would be quite an understatement. It's gotten rave reviews from tons of sources. Two Michelin stars. My friend Shaun, a sage and experienced food lover, chose Aqua for dinner on the night he proposed to his wife. Expectations were high. Now, I realize that an enforced prix fixe menu on a crazy busy night isn't the best way to judge a restaurant, but the food was mediocre enough, and the check was outrageous enough, that I can clearly state: Aqua disappointed.

Classic: had a really nice glass of Riesling at the bar; servers were nice and knowledgeable, although service was damn slow even though we didn't eat until 9 (I think that's why they were so generous with the bread and rolls); elegant space

Dud: Hey Aqua, can you make your tables smaller and put them closer together? Because I enjoy giving my neighboring diners a lapdance during dinner. Sheezy, this is not the place to go unless you plan to speak intimately with everyone around. Also Dud, the food in general. Yikes:

• Osetra caviar w/cuttlefish fettucine and uni-passion fruit sabayon - I thought this would be just like the amazing Lisa's Staff Meal at Ame--only better. Wow, this dish was an epic FAIL. The cuttlefish didn't have that wonderful snap or sweetness. The portions of uni and caviar were too small to really help and everything was overpowered by long thin slices of some unidentified vegetable. There was also something gritty in the ingredients list that made it very disturbing to eat, like chewing on little rocks. Very uncomfortable.
• Scottish Langostines with sweet soy and orange oil - This was fine. Probably the best dish of the night. Not memorable at all, but not bad.
• Pot au Feu - foie gras, baby leeks and scallops  in a Pho-inspired broth. Too salty and not a very good way to present foie gras
• Black cod w/ iberian ham, mushroom risotto, quail egg & shellfish jus - this dish could have been awesome, but fell flat. The cod was overdone and the flavors didn't mesh at all
• Veal loin & Maine Lobster w/ a crispy sweetbread raviolo - Ew, not a good ending to our meal. The raviolo was okay but the veal tasted funny. And the lobster felt repetitive after the langostines. Only, it was bizarrely bland and mushy; It was soft and sad. That's just wrong. You know something's off when neither of us could finish a tiny lobster tail and a little cube of meat.
• Liquer-soaked cake and raspberry filling covered in white chocolate  - Alright. Sure.

i don't want to imply that it was bad. Everything was okay. It's just that, for the amount of money they charged and for the reputation they've built, it should've been infinitely more than just okay. We had such a wonderful time talking, laughing and just enjoying ourselves that it was still a lovely evening. It's just too bad the food had nothing to do with the loveliness.

The Check:

Food: D
Service: B
Space: B
Value: F
Return Possibility: Low unless I hear enough about how great they are on a non-event night to try it again.

The Small Print

Dang, what a kickass weekend.

Friday night I got to wind down for the week while shopping with some of the girls. Found lots of pretty tops with graceful appliqued embroidery; very reminiscent of shirts my mom wore when she was a teenager.

Saturday was, of course, Sophia geek out day. After she told us a few weeks ago that she might be coming for a short visit I barely let myself think about it, lest the gears of my brain should short circuit with excitement. But the day finally arrived and I packed Jangers and Nicky Nacks into the backseat of the Cooper and we met her for lunch at Kappo Nami Nami in Mountain View. Ate some yumalicious bento and trashed on Stanford (Caroline & Skorn, my most sincere aplogoies.) Then had a wonderful time catching up with Sophia about all aspects of lifeiness while traipsing through Santana Row. There's no one else I'd rather wait out an insanely long line at Urban Outfitters with! (Unless it was a Sophia who would want to move to the Bay Area and hang out with me all the time. Come on!)

And, of course, Sunday. Game Day. Go Pats! Ahem. Anyhow, I love chicken wings, beer and obnoxious, cringe-worthy advertising as much as the next girl, but I discovered the Secret of Super Bowl Sunday in 2002, and had to capitalize on it again: dude, this is the day to get things done. If there's an event or hotspot that you don't want to wait in line for or that you can't get reservations or tickets to, this is your day! The Pod and I used to go to Disneyland on Super Bowl Sunday. It was like a ghost town; so awesome. This year Chris and I stuck around long enough to watch most of the first half of the game before catching a Cirque du Soleil show in downtown San Jose. I only bought the tickets this past week, but we had amazing seats. There were contortionists touching their heads with their butts. And the Wheel of Death. You know, the usual magnificent Cirque stuff. We capped the night off with a really nice dinner at Arcadia, which neither of us had been to for over a year.

It was a spirited yet relaxing few days with lots of diverse local fun. All in all, a great weekend.

Chez TJ

This is foie gras served two ways: possibly the best dish I ate all year during what was decisively the best meal of 2007. The seared piece on the right was of outstanding quality, cooked to a perfect texture; caramelized onions and a drizzle of olive oil completed it. This was simply a pure and enjoyable presentation of excellent foie gras. The little cup on the left held a foam-topped foie gras custard, delicately flavored with pickled apples. At once smokey, sweet, rich, tart and smooth as silk, the custard was an absolute cavalcade of surprising flavors. It woke me up, made me pay attention to every little last bite.

And every dish from the tasting menu at Chez TJ in Mountain View was a pleasure, arriving in beautifully proportioned servings, each course somehow uncommon and comforting at the same time. A sweet potato soup was poured over little spiced marshmallows and individual pulpy droplets of lime that burst suddenly in your mouth (delightful!). A plate of pike mackerel with a hint of citrus came to me with the thinnest, crispiest pieces of shaved baguette and a gorgeous oval of ice cream. Olive oil ice cream! I could talk just about this little dollop of goodness for hours; the earthy fragrance and mouthfeel of olive oil, captured in an ice cream! And then paired with fish? What is Christopher Kostow thinking?? And just how did he make it work so completely?

The flavors were strong, sometimes startling, but combined in a way that made us say again and again, "yes, this is exactly how this ingredient should taste, and these are exactly the things that go with it, and we are SO satisfied right now." Kostow takes ingredients that are par for the course in fine dining establishments (lobster, beef tenderloin, truffles) and makes them really exciting again. It was a singularly enveloping food experience, where we cared for nothing but the surprisingly great wine pairings and enjoying the food itself. I couldn't wait for each new dish to arrive, and I was never disappointed. Kostow's creations were comely with a touch of whimsy, arresting and wonderful. He's got a true mastery. This was an extraordinary meal and I cannot wait to go back to Chez TJ.

The Check:

Food: A+
Service: B+
Space: A-
Value: A
Return Possibility: Definite

The French Laundry

I was going to write this like any of my other restaurant reviews. But this isn't any other restaurant, and I won't try to pretend it is.

Because first of all I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I went to the French Laundry again. If I actually stop to think about it at all, it boggles my freaking mind. An establishment which has been considered within the past few years as the best restaurant in the entire world and is still regarded as the top eatery in the U.S.  Why should I get to go here? Why me?

But why not? That's the wonderful thing about the food world. I appreciate the element of opportunity that lets me actually go out and experience that which I hear is the BEST in its realm. The most lauded restaurants are there just waiting to serve you. Anyone can go (please don't lambast me with an angry email about how people living in a third world country with no drinking water actually can't go to El Bulli. You know that's not what I mean.) They're happy to have you! All you have to do is call.

Oh, wait. Did I say anyone can call? That's not true. Only crazed people who are willing to give up any shred of dignity they normally pretend to have should attempt to make a reservation at the French Laundry. Especially for dinner on a weekend. The reservations phone line opens at 10 a.m. each day. At 9:59 a.m. on September 4th, I was ready. I had my cell phone and a landline. I dialed both, only to get a busy signal, squared. So I did it again. And again. And AGAIN. I called back for a little over forty minutes. I've never been so psyched to be put on hold in my life. At approximately 10:55 I heard a voice: "French Laundry. How may I help you?", startling the hell out of me because by this point I'd forgotten that I was even on the phone. I requested and arranged a table on the only available day, November 4th (French Laundry only takes reservations two months out.) And then the instructions and admonitions were revealed: 1) Four people exactly could dine. The six person tables were all booked. 2) I had to bring four people. If I tried to downgrade to two my reservation would be forfeit. 3) I had to call back 72 hours before the 4th to confirm that I was still coming. 4) No shirt, no shoes, no service--French Laundry style! Shorts, jeans and tennis shoes are not allowed. Jackets required for dudes. 5) If any of my party should not arrive I'd be charged a hundred dollar cancellation fee. Per person. 6) I had to promise to name my firstborn Thomas Keller.

Two months of mounting anticipation and excitement later, we had a tremendous meal:

• Amuse: The signature starter of salmon tartare with red onion creme fraiche in a black sesame cornet was delicious. There were also tiny gruyere puffs.

• Oysters and Pearls: Oysters in a creamy sabayon, swimming with tapioca and a generous helping of white sturgeon caviar on top. Also a constant menu item and simply perfect. Mother-of-pearl spoons rule.

• Hudson Valley foie gras torchon: Everything about this course epitomizes the French Laundry. I'm not usually a fan of torchon-style foie gras, but leave it to this place to make it divine. It was light, creamy, smooth, sweet and savory all at once. It was presented with three kinds of salt, one of which the server explained was 40 million year old Jurassic salt from mines in Montana. Dinosaur salt!! Of course where there is French Laundry foie gras, there must also be warm, fresh-toasted brioche. So check it. Mid-course my fellow diners and I started a longer conversation about differences between the salts. Our poor brioche toast had to languish untouched on the table for about five minutes. Until they whisked it away and replaced it with new brioche, hot and fresh out the kitchen, because anything else is unacceptable to them. Yes I know this is almost criminally extreme. And insane. And damned wonderful.

• Satsuma cured kanpachi sashimi - Firm, sweet pieces of delightfully fresh red snapper, barely "cooked" in the citrus, paired with japanese sea urchin and pine nuts. I was happy as a clam with this. The other option, fillet of bass in meyer lemon puree, was also declared a success.

• "Beet and Leek" - What can I say? This course of Maine lobster poached in an incredible sweet butter is plated with a serving of leeks that melts in your mouth. And the red beet essence that anchors this course is everything good food can be. It's so simple; it's just a sauce. But what a sauce. The consistency was remarkable, almost a light syrup. The vibrant crimson color was such a pleasure. And the taste--exquisite. This dish was absolutely superb.

• Corned veal tongue - I'm still not sure how I feel about this. It was basically glorified pastrami. It was good but strangely enough it made me wish that it was liver. The vegetables that came with it had nothing on the beautiful produce coming out of the Manresa gardens. The other choice, capon breast with poached prune, was better.

• Lamb rib-eye - prepared with a twist, in a curry sauce with lovely plumped sultana raisins. Tasty, but not remarkable. I unfortunately don't care for Indian curry spice very much but I still enjoyed this. The lamb was moist, tender and expertly cooked.

• Tre Latte cheese - What in the hell is up with this cheese course?!? Holy crap was this awful. We ate tiny bits of it, not because we wanted to ingest any more after an initial gag-inducing bite, but in order to figure out what horrific thing it actually tasted like. I got to shine in a moment of Napoleon Dynamite-esque brilliance: "It tastes exactly like a petting zoo!" I cried. I will give them props for so perfectly encapsulating a physical experience in a dairy product. You could quite plainly taste dirty hay bales and and the angry head-butt of a belligerent horned creature in that cheese. The only explanation I can give for this abhorrence was that it's made from the blended milk of a cow, sheep and goat. That's the chance you take when you defy nature.

• Buttermilk sherbet- with huckleberries and a crispy polenta cake. Now that's more like it. A very refreshing, delicious and much-needed palate cleanser.

• Pear charlotte - Dessert was a choice between cake of poached pears, ladyfingers, pear sorbet and coulis and the FL version of S'mores. The S'mores consisted of peanut butter parfait, caramel crispy cookies and house made marshmallows - all delectable. The charlotte was bland, the pear uninspiring with a watery sorbet. It was something you'd serve to a baby or an old person. Boo. Hiss.

• Mingnardises - But all was forgiven when they brought out little creme brulees and little panna cottas which were orgasmcally delicious. To finish up, we had our choice of house made chocolates which they served on special ice cold silver plates. What a heavenly touch.

I want to make a special note of the service at the French Laundry because I do believe it's in a class utterly by itself. The way the ensemble of staff sweeps out and coordinates the presentation of each course is a sight to behold. It's been described as a dance, and I will not deny that. Imagine a simple, straightforward Viennese Waltz if you can. Their timing is also remarkable. We took some breaks in between courses and there was always someone ready to welcome us back to our seats. And as soon as we were all seated and ready again the parade would reappear almost instantly with the next culinary treat. It was like magic. To give you an idea, we subtly timed how long it took for someone to show up and fill an empty water glass. Three times this happened. Each time someone was there in less than sixty seconds. Wow. And yet the restaurant never feels fussy, prissy or presumptuous. They're just there. And they are superlative at what they do. 

I just feel incredibly blessed and lucky to have been able to go there last week. We need to eat in order to live and sometimes, if we're fortunate, we taste marvels. We need food, whether it's marbled Wagyu beef or stale cereal eaten straight from the box. We eat to live. But some nights, nights like this, we live to eat.

Fun Home

Two Restaurant, formerly known as Hawthorne Lane, is a cool little place tucked in at the edge of the Financial District. They've got a nice blend of menu items with some great casual sandwiches and pizzas thrown amongst the entrees. There were lots of homestyle favorites with an interesting twist (lamb pastrami, bacon & egg raviolo).

On our order: the marrow bones in an onion broth, tempura sardines with spicy salt, a Cuban sandwich (ham, roast pork, provolone, pickled jalapenos, soft boiled egg), brussels sprouts with bacon, caramelized broccoli and pan-fried schnitzel in spicy marinara sauce.

I just went about this meal all wrong. We ordered way too many things and it was overwhelming. After the onslaught of the marrow and fried fish I just had no appetite for anything else. I wasn't super impressed but I just really like the feel of the place. It would be appropriate for a special occasion, but it's very relaxed. It's possible to eat a good and very interesting meal here for around $20-25 a person. That sets it apart.

Classic

• The Royal Hound -  a cocktail of muddled pink grapefruit with Cointreau, Ketel One and a champagne finish. The candied grapefruit rim was strangely addicting.
• The little bread plate that came at the start of the meal had these fantastic mini biscuits.
• Putting the egg on the Cuban sandwich. Not traditional, but so tasty. The side of deli-sliced japanese style pickles on the sandwich plate were delicious, too.

Dud

• There was just nothing special about the food. It wasn't bad, but not a single dish was a Wow. A neighboring diner who complained to us that "there were no refined tastes and flavors". I didn't feel like that was the problem, but I felt like I could've cooked any of the dishes myself.
• The bread for the sandwich was not crisp and toasty warm from the plancha. Dammit.
• This is one of those places that uses their parking lot as valet parking spaces. So you pay $12 and at the end you have to stand and wait for them to drive your car which is parked three feet away to you.

The Check:

Food: B-
Service: B+
Space: B+
Value: B
Return Possibility: Medium

Tip: Come with a big group so you can try lots of things.

Uni & Ikura

Ame describes their own cuisine as "New American". It's European-inspired Japanese food and it is interesting, exciting and just flat out great food. They've got a convenient location too, on the ground floor of the St. Regis, right on the east end of SF MOMA. The dining room is striking and handsome, a great blend of modern American and Asian design.

On our order: sashimi quartet, Lisa's Staff Meal, oxtail soup, Ocean Duo (Hokkaido scallops & Maine Lobster), sake marinated Black Cod, chocolate mousseline with candied profiteroles and strawberry & black pepper ice cream parfait

Classic

• Lisa's Staff Meal - Cuttlefish Noodles, Quail Egg, Sea Urchin,  Wasabi and Umami Soy Sauce. Dude, umami. The Fifth Taste. Savoury, meaty essence. This was my most anticipated dish and it did not disappoint. Impossibly fresh slices of sweet, firm cuttlefish (think of the best calamari you ever had x 1000). Generous helpings of great quality uni (sea urchin) and ikura (salmon roe) on top, which I know from experience is a winning combination. Okra to add some crunch. You mix the quail egg on the side with fabulous fresh wasabi and mix it all together. I could eat this every day.
• Sweet Heat - a refreshing vodka martini with thai pepper-infused syrup. Adds a nice kick. Also Sweet Heat is fun to say.
• The black pepper ice cream was perfect. Creamy and sweet but blending the warm heart of black pepper with rich vanilla. A great pairing with the strawberries.
• Their tea is served loose leaf in an individual French press.

Dud

• Wish you could order some small, individual portions of sashimi. Or maybe i just wish the choices that they had weren't so darn expensive.
• Would've like to see some Asian-inspired desserts and some oolong tea or a wider variety of green tea.
• Didn't like that the black cod was in a broth. It would've been stunning with a nice crispy grilled texture.

The Check:

Food: A-
Service: A
Space: B+
Value: B
Return Possibility: High

What’ll we do with ourselves this afternoon?

I read about Presidio Social Club about a year ago on Daily Candy and I finally got to eat dinner there the evening of  October 20th. I was envisioning two possibilities before arriving at the restaurant:

1) It would be an upscale but still cute soda fountain-type place; vinyl booths, lots of chrome, heck, even those 50's diner straw containers on the countertop. Maybe there would be a vintage jukebox that played real vinyl singles.

or

2) The room would be all decked out in Prohibition-era elegance. Everyone would look like Jay Gatsby and maybe we could dance the Charleston while we waited for our food to arrive.

The Social Club is neither of these things. I didn't get the feeling I was in a club of any sort, but it was very comfortable, with a touch of swank.

On our order: White Cheddar Mac n Cheese, Sonoma Range Chicken w/ roasted grapes, American style Kobe beef brisket Sloppy Joe w/ fries, Chocolate cupcakes, lemon meringue tart and malted milk parfaits. 

Classic

• Awesome cocktails. Unique and delicious.
• The chocolate cupcakes. These were baked to order, but only took about 10-15 minutes. They were hot and fluffy and wonderful, with a hint of cinnamon and what I'm guessing were Cocoa Krispies baked all over the top, so that they had a fun crunchy coating. Whipped cream and chocolate sauce came on the side. Most excellent.
• The service. Friendly and knowledgeable. I saw them look and walk over at least a dozen times during the meal to see if we needed anything, but it didn't feel the least intrusive.

Dud

• Maybe it's because the reservation was at 6 p.m. which is prime Grandma dining time, I know, but every other diner seemed pretty...mature. I'd say everyone there was 15-20 years older than us at least.
• We shared the mac n cheese dish as an appetizer. They charged us $2.50 just to bring out an extra plate.
• Overall cost in general. Even without the surcharge, the macaroni dish was $15, for a pretty small portion. Kraft Dinner this is not. I'm guessing our meal for two was in the $120-140 range, which is at least double what I was expecting. For that price, you could eat at some really awesome places.

The Check:

Food: B
Service: A
Space: B
Value: D
Return Possibility: Low.

Starlite Diner

Excitement! The 2008 Michelin Guide list of Starred restaurants for the Bay Area was unveiled this past Monday.

I've had the pleasure and the privilege of eating at some unforgettable places in the last year, so i was really interested in seeing what changes there had been to the list since its inaugural 2007 release.

According to the Michelin Guide site, these are the criteria upon which judgment is made:

• The quality of the products        
• The mastery of flavor and cooking    
• The "personality" of the cuisine    
• The value for the money    
• The consistency between visits

"Personality"? That's pretty vague. But I appreciate what they're trying to say. The most memorable restaurants, even a hole-in-the-wall taqueria, have a style and showcase flavors that are uniquely their own. As for value, I think the Michelin crew have a different definition of the word than most. I sure as heck don't walk away from a three hundred fifty dollar for two dinner bill thinking, "Damn, that was a steal!" I guess that's why I'll have to trust them where "consistency between visits" is concerned, too. Most interesting, Michelin does not take service into consideration. Just food.

Some quick thoughts on the different categories:

***3 Stars
The French Laundry

    ---Still the only three star recipient. How gleeful am I to be heading back there in less than two weeks time? is there any way this place will meet my expectations?

**2 Stars
Aqua
Chez TJ
Cyrus    
Manresa
Meadowood
Michael Mina

    ---Michael Mina's was too impersonal, Cyrus was utterly fantastic but dragged down by a couple of abysmal moments and Manresa was brilliant in November, then rocky in May. Meadowood looks like d-bags go there. But I'd like to give Chez TJ a try. It's so close by and they have grilled watermelon!

*1 Star

I won't post the whole list here, but how psyched am I that Ame made the list?? I chose it to go this weekend because it looked so fun and joked that I hoped it would get a Michelin star. I totally have the power!

Cortez? Huh?

My opinion on the whole "Chez Panisse only has one star, wtf???" controversy: I think the Michelin Guide thinks the place lacks "personality". It's kind of unfair, because Chez Panisse has been so widely copied in the California food world. There's not often oomph in their cuisine, so there isn't the chance-taking that can fall flat on it's face, but there's fewer opportunities to surprise and delight, too. I'm not saying I agree. As I mentioned before they focus entirely on solid ingredients. Actually, I think that's the strongest point of their "personality."

I've always had experiences beyond awesome at Auberge du Soleil. They're a two-star for me.

Wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight.

99 Problems - Jay-Z

I thought I loved 99 Chicken. Turns out, since my inaugural trip there in April, word has spread like wildfire amongst my friends and some of them have become regulars at this korean fried chicken joint. Matter of fact, when Sushi and I walked in there the other night they knew her by name. The owner greeted her like a long lost daughter. Or at least like a regular daughter. Well, at least like a cousin that is not annoying. Suffice it to say that free Korean draft beer was brought to our table. That's what I'm talking about.

I'm still totally digging this place, and it was especially yumalicious this week because I haven't been back since June when Jen and I went there and ate the spiciest food to ever freaking touch a human tongue without reducing it to complete ash (aka kimchee fried rice). Sushi balked at my suggestion that we sample dish #22, silkworm larvae stir fried and served in a hot clay pot, but we ate plenty of wonderful chicken. I also had to drink an entire cold kettle of lemon soju which was not sweet enough for Sushi's taste. I did not complain.

Best of all, we are starting to make our presence known on one of the wall o' photos! I was looking at my picture from that first visit in April and then realized that three more photos from my cohorts were tacked up nearby. Nice.

In the Failing Light of the Afternoon

I hate this time of year. One final bout of heat before the Fall comes, before the rains come (my favorite season). Even so, there is still something joyous in the last rays of summer, some quirk of time that makes it seem like it will go on and on; something adolescent, bittersweet and strong.

There's still time for sitting outside under the stars and for spreading picnic blankets on a Sunday afternoon. And for listening to an absolutely wonderful song like this: "Lovesong of the Buzzard" - Iron & Wine

And there's still time for one more of my trademark super simple recipe ideas (simple is the key!) Some of my girls and I had a wine and cheese night yesterday. We had some Port Salut, Wisconsin cheddar curds and Belgian beer cheese with some Pinot Noir and a fabulous bottle of Eroica Riesling I'd been saving. I also made a nice salad to showcase some fresh mozzarella: sliced heirloom tomatoes, a drizzle of olive oil, a splash of balsamic vinegar, toss in the little mozzarella balls and top with parsley. Oh my god this shit is good. And that's coming from someone who hates tomatoes. Just make sure you get the heirloom type of fruit, preferably in a few different colors. They'll look completely effed, but will epitomize the taste of summer.

On the lookout for Orange Bang!.

What are these, you ask? These are Tacos Alambre from the Blue Monkey Taco Lounge in downtown San Jose, and they might be the BEST tacos I've ever had. Seriously. Better than Los Tacos. Better than King Taco. Better than El Cholo. Better than tacos I've eaten in Mexico. And they're from a bar. In San Jose. it's crazy, I know.

Their alambres: cube steak, peppers, cheese, bacon, onions, chorizo, carne al pastor (they even have the spinny thing they carve meat off of right there in front of you), all on two small, thin scrumptious fresh as hizzell tortillas. You top them yourself at the little salsa station and then you go to town. Because it's really hard to find a good taqueria in the South Bay, so you don't take it for granted. These things are MEGA tasty. And since you're in a bar you can also enjoy a Negro Modelo or a Fat Tire, if you please.

What I personally would like most to go with them is an Orange Bang!. This stuff is the shiz! It's like Orange Julius' crazy cousin. You can always get a ginormous cup of it for less than two bucks at most taco places in Southern California. Hell, you can get it at the Green Burrito or at gas stations. But for the life of me I cannot find Orange Bang! here in the Bay Area. I'm going to have to take the guagua, I think. I'll have to go down to the estación de ferrocarril (gracias, four years of San Marino High School spanish classes!)

Lupicia Fresh Tea

I went to Valley Fair a couple of weeks ago, thinking to renew my supply of toffee flavored Rooibos from Teavana. I'd heard recently that it helps with allergies, and I need all the assistance I can get (I've taken to wearing a surgical mask for part of the day.) Instead, I decided to peek into a new tea store located right by the upstairs food cart.

Lupicia is a chain of tea stores located mostly in Japan, but with a smattering of branches in Australia, Taiwan and now in the U.S. as well (San Francisco, L.A., Honolulu and San Jose.) The shop is modern and well-organized with a setup that showcases the lovely packaging of their tea. All the loose leaf comes in simple gorgeous tins and the teabags in matching boxes or stand-up paquettes.

They've got some fairly good quality tea for very reasonable prices. I picked up some shockingly high-quality 2006 First Flush Darjeeling for a pittance (woo!) and decided to try three fruit-infused black teas:

• Sakura Houji Cha: lightly salted cherry blossom leaves. A nice medium strength tea, a bit light on the sakura flavor, but wrapped in the sweetest box.
• Decaf Muscat: perfect for relaxing in the evening. Full black tea feeling that won't keep you up all night. And I'm a huge fan of muscat grapes as well, those sweet mellow fruits used to make Moscato d'Asti and Vin de Glacier (mmmmm!)
• Momo Oolong Super Grade: Nice unbroken Taiwanese leaves with a lovely flavor, and so refreshing. And oh my lord, the aroma and subtle deliciousness of Japanese white peach is just astounding. We have some of this tea most afternoons now, and it fills the room with the most wonderful heady scent of fresh peach juice and spring sunniness. Confession: I spend the entire two minutes it takes this tea to brew inhaling from the bag of loose tea leaves. I would like to alternate smelling this tea and Fruit Stripe gum until I hyperventilate and pass out for the rest of the day.

Sweet and Sour

Is there anything more wonderful than ripe summer berries? Blackberries and raspberries topping yogurt for breakfast. A round, cold handful of blueberries. And the absolute miracle that is perfectly sweet cherries. I think that might be my favorite food in the world.

I bought a quart of strawberries the other day and wanted to find a way to enjoy them beyond just eating them raw. The perfect preparation: maceration with balsamic vinegar. No real hot cooking was involved (it is summer after all!) but they were as good as any strawberry dessert I've ever had, and SO easy.

I washed my quart of berries, cut them in smaller pieces and combined them with three tablespoons of good quality balsamic and three tablespoons of sugar. A few hours in the fridge and they were done! The sharpness of the vinegar had mellowed out and a beautiful syrup had formed. The colors and tastes were incredibly intense. The macerating process somehow magnifies the natural strawberry flavor and makes it very intricate at the same time. A quick grind of fresh black pepper right before serving makes it especially nice.

The fruit can be served alone or with ice cream, shortcake, as a pancake topping, etc. I like to whip some nonfat yogurt and a smidgen of mascarpone together and place just a dollop over a little bowl of berries. This recipe is especially great for berries not in their prime. More of than not, though, the berries we get at the market are pale and mealy, never quite ripening to their full juicy potential. The vinegar, as strange as it sounds, makes them remarkable.

Really Smart Water

So there's been a lot of buzz lately about the economic and environmental issues surrounding bottled water. Plain old bottled water. A lot of that buzz stemmed from this excellent fastcompany.com article. It's a well-written and thought-provoking piece and I definitely recommend that you check the whole thing out, but I'll recap some vital points which I found especially interesting:

• "Last year, we spent more on Poland Spring, Fiji Water, Evian, Aquafina, and Dasani than we spent on iPods or movie tickets--$15 billion. It will be $16 billion this year." - WOAH. That is insane. When I'm buying bottled water (and I do drink a lot of it) I've often had the thought, "why do we have to pay so much for water?" I didn't realize so many people were paying so much.
• "...one out of six people in the world has no dependable, safe drinking water. The global economy has contrived to deny the most fundamental element of life to 1 billion people, while delivering to us an array of water "varieties" from around the globe, not one of which we actually need." "..in Fiji, a state-of-the-art factory spins out more than a million bottles a day of the hippest bottled water on the U.S. market today, while more than half the people in Fiji do not have safe, reliable drinking water." - What a shame.
• "Americans went through about 50 billion plastic water bottles last year, 167 for each person. Durable, lightweight containers manufactured just to be discarded....Our recycling rate for [the plastic the bottles are made from] is only 23%, which means we pitch into landfills 38 billion water bottles a year--more than $1 billion worth of plastic. - And here we are thinking we're all healthy, awesome and pure for drinking water. The article also mentions the detriment of transporting all of this water for sale.

And finally, the kicker for me:

• In San Francisco, the municipal water comes from inside Yosemite National Park. It's so good the EPA doesn't require San Francisco to filter it. If you bought and drank a bottle of Evian, you could refill that bottle once a day for 10 years, 5 months, and 21 days with San Francisco tap water before that water would cost $1.35.

Bay Area tap water. Pure water from Yosemite that I can get out of the tap at work, at home, everywhere. I've got 5 more bottles of Dasani in my fridge. After that, I'm gonna try to drink tap as much as possible. Pick up a few more of those bullet looking Zojirushi vacuum bottles that keep stuff cold for a millennium, so I can still have the convenience of a small container. If I can get past the probably purely psychological feeling that tap water tastes weird, I'll have more great drinking water, always available, than I'll know what to do with.

Home Cooking

Ever since I turned lactose intolerant, I've not been a big fan of ice cream. Maybe it's just my stomach's way of protecting itself, but I hardly ever get ice cream cravings anymore and, when I do eat it, ice cream usually seems way too creamy, rich and sweet.

But maybe I've just been in an outdoor mood the past week. I find myself thinking of strawberry ice cream cones or of the Pinkberry copycats that have sprung up around town. I even considered buying a home ice cream machine, like the Cuisinart Soft Serve Ice Cream Maker (I would fill the topping dispensers with hundreds and thousands).

An ice cream machine is totally the type of thing you buy, use about two times and then shove into the back of a cabinet because it's so much easier just to go down to Baskin Robbins. Ice cream is one of those things that you crave and then want immediately. The Soft Serve maker lets you whip up a batch of ice cream in 20 minutes, but I still don't think that's instant gratification enough for most people.

I find that's the case with most cookery tools that are entirely dedicated to the manufacturing of one type of foodstuff.  These products have gotten so popular in the last few years, but they usually end up languishing, sad and forgotten. People should have some sort of system with their friends where they all promise to buy one, but only one, of these items and share them. That way, no one feels like a townie because they own the ice cream machine, countertop pizza oven, quesadilla maker and bread machine, all very lightly used. 

We were peckish. We were esuriant.

On my last trip down to L.A. I had the pleasure of dining at Spago. The only other Wolfgang Puck restaurant I'd been to before was various branches of that seemingly ubiquitous pizza place he had going for a while (when you start serving the 909, you know you've reached full MOR status.)

After checking to see whether they would accommodate us by going light on the seafood (the answer--yes!) we decided to do things right by diving headfirst into the chef's tasting menu. And I learned just exactly how Wolfgang Puck made a name for himself. The dining area felt summery and comfortable. The service was prompt and attentive. And the food? It was superb. Some highlights:

• Tomato sorbet with cold tomato consomme - A tableside pour presentation. The consomme had little tiny bubbles of basil oil floating in it. The mouthfeel of the soup with the sorbet was wonderful. How can tomato ice be this fucking good?
• Langostine with Masala spices - tender shellfish meat with the unexpected zing of Indian flavoring, very well prepared.
• Tomato trio - Tomato bruschetta, the fruit tasted incredibly vibrant, juicy and lively. Tomato on Tomato, Roma and green tomato slices, in a nice marinade. And Tomato Tarte Tatin, melt-in-your-mouth, bursting with flavor tomato on a flaky crisp crust--just awesome. The joke was kind of on us here. I think Chris thought he was in the clear with the request to minimize seafood. It never occurred to us that they would substitute with usually-reviled tomatoes instead (yes, I even despise ketchup.) But much like the tomato revelations at Manresa, I would not have exchanged this dish for anything.
• Sweet corn and mascarpone agnolotti: Okay, I might have exchanged it for more of this. Creamy, sweet, light molten corn puree encased in an expertly handmade gnocchi-like pasta "purse"--this was definitely the best dish of the night.  Just incredible texture and flavor. This shit was good.

And a little strangeness:

• They brought a squab course, cooked in an asian-inspired style. This was actually pretty good, but the fact that they plated the bird's thigh with the super-long leg and "foot" piece intact was disconcerting. Even though it's pretty common see whole animals on a dish in chinese restaurants, this still bugged me. Trying to ignore the twig-like leg and the little razor claws on the plate proved impossible.
• The lamb course was waaaaay too salty. The meat itself, the sauce, the accompanying vegetables-- salt city. I couldn't taste any of the true flavors of the ingredients.
• Cheese plate. Right before a lovely souffle dessert was presented, we each got a rectangular plate with three big slabs of cheese on it. We were already stuffed to the brim with food and drink and really, the serving size on each plate was enough for maybe four people to share. And one of the cheeses was absolutely hideous. It smelled and tasted like a moldy shoe. But it made me think of the Monty Python Cheese Shop sketch. Venezuelan Beaver Cheese. Hee!
  

All in all, an incredible, memorable meal. I was so impressed with the fruit and vegetable dishes that I wished afterwards that we had requested an all-vegetarian meal. The courses just tasted of summer and felt both modern and classic. Definitely a splurge, but definitely worth it.

Word up

I keep hearing and seeing ads for "hugo" size drinks at McDonald's. They're cheap and gargantuan, like three gallons of Coke for four cents, or something. I'm guessing that the name is some play on the word huge? It's not pronounced  "huge-o", but like the man's name Hugo. Maybe they're implying "huge old"? Huge ol' drink. Hugo.

In any case, I guess they're just making up their own words now. Though it is possible that the word might mean something. I always thought that Starbuck's made up the word "Venti" until I learned that it's the Italian word for "Twenty". That whole Starbuck's sizing system is senseless anyways. It ticks me of to no end that the small cup is called "Tall".

I want to start making up my own words. That dress isn't "beautiful". It's "preeda". I'm not "tired". I'm "sleebus". I want people to think they know what I'm talking about, but never be quite sure. I'm not thirsty. I'm "sodree". Do you hear me? I'm sodree. I need a hugo paper cup of root beer.

Neighborhood #1

There is a little block of Vine Street in Berkeley right off of Shattuck that has fast become one of my new favorite places.

There is a beautiful stationery store there with some amazing vintage letterpress machines and a small but excellent selection of cards. Lots of Snow & Graham things and other pieces in the same style.

Then there's the cupcake store, Love at First Bite. Their name is no lie. This place is the shiz. Satisfying but not too sweet. Decadent but never heavy. Everything here is just delicious here but I'm especially enamored of the Red Velvet, and the Hummingbird cupcakes ("a delicious Southern cake with bananas, pineapple & pecans, topped with cream cheese frosting" Yum, yum, YUM.) And the Pretty in Pinks, a strawberry cake with strawberry frosting that somehow manages to tases real and fresh, are pure heaven.

Now, a new find: Vintage Berkeley. This charming little store has been open for a couple of years now, housed in an old water pumping station. There's lots of small-run wines from small wineries all over the world. The owner hand-picks everything and there are informative and intriguing handwritten descriptions of each wine, listing the different notes and describing what foods the wine should be paired with. Best of all, it's so affordable. Most bottles are under $20.

God, I miss living here.

Lowbrow Drinking

The other night my friend brought me a bottle of wine called "Heart of Darkness". Totally excited about the Joseph Conrad shout-out I made moves to drink this right away. But oh no, this wine had rules.

M: It has to decant for 45 to 90 minutes.
b: Decant? What do I look like? Richie Rich? I don't have a decanter.
M: We can pour it into a pitcher or a bowl.
b: Okay, I've got either Hello Kitty ceramic ones I use for ramen or these Stars of Nascar cereal bowls.
M:....Let's just get some into the glasses.

Luckily I happen to own some great Reidel stemless wine glasses that were just wide enough to let what turned out to be a very good wine get some air. This bottle is a great bargain and I recommend it if you're having some steak dinner with a side of patience. Cause I'll admit it was much better after we got home from dinner (I'd stolen a sip before running out the door.)

But because we'd stuffed ourselves thoroughly with chicken wings we only had room for the teensiest bit of wine. Having shredded the cork in my carelessness, I was instructed to seal the leftovers tight in a Ziploc bag. I did so reluctantly, only because I had no other options. But dammit, it worked. The next day, the Heart of Darkness was as savage, cruel and delicious as it was the first night. You just have to ignore the fact that you're pouring wine out of a plastic baggy. You have to pretend dignity.

p.s. I just remembered today the 2 liter bottle of Coke I have on the porch. I'm pretty sure it's going to sprout arms and strangle me one of these days.

p.p.s. I bought some of that ultra-pasteurized milk. I've had it open about a week now and the expiration date isn't until May 22nd. It hasn't spoiled--at least not in the traditional way. But I had some yesterday and it smells and tastes like a Band Aid.