Monday, June 18, 2007

two brief thoughts (on mojiters and salad greens)

Well-made mojitos are dangerous. On Sunday, Nate and I had lunch with my family at Chelsea's Kitchen. Nate ordered a mojito, and my dad and I followed suit due to peer pressure. By the time the server had returned to take our order (5-10 minutes), I had consumed the entire drink. She suggested another, and I agreed. It was hot out and the mojito was cool and refreshing. I could not refuse. After we finished our lunches, I suggested that we order a sundae (which also looked cool, if not refreshing). My suggestion was laughed off of the table and I was accused of having mojito-eyes. Oh, the shame.

I realize that small, fancy, bitter greens are hip. The more esoteric the leaves, the better. However, I do not like these salads. I eat them, and appreciate that other people enjoy them, that they are most likely better for you than baby romaine, etc. But I do not really enjoy them. The only bitter substance I truly enjoy is Campari. Secret exposed.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

redemption song, part dalawa

Yesterday was a magical day in San Francisco. The kind of day that you find in Hawaii or San Diego regularly, but is so precious here. Everyone in the neighborhood was feeling it. We walked F to the park, where the hipsters were out in full force. Such is the lure of a sunny day, even for those dressed in black.

After an hour of lounging on the grass with Kara and Amy, I was itchy and needed to pee. So, we headed to my house to experiment with Mint Juleps. Much harder to perfect than the "simple" recipe makes it seem, the kitchen looked like a tornado (or a four layer cake) had gone through when we were done. After adding a lot of simple syrup to our original concoctions, they were delicious.

The day was coming to a close, but we still had enough time to sit in the backyard with our Juleps and play Boggle. Not the ideal rocking-on-a-porch-swing, Julep-drinking situation, but it worked. Talk turned to dinner and there was a heated debate. What should we show off to Amy that she cannot get in DC? What does Kuzman like to eat? Is Nate going to press the issue of Panchita's? Is Michelle going to add anything to the debate, or will she just call Nate boring and laugh?

San Tung won, as it often does. The pilgrimage began. The line was just manageable, and we were teased several times by the host about the readiness of our table. 30 minutes later we sat down.

Kim chee: Great. Always Great. Burned my mouth a little, exacerbated by the hot tea.

Martinelli's apple juice: Umm, for some reason I cannot eat at San Tung without ordering this. If you ask, I will not give a logical answer.

Steamed shrimp and leek dumplings: Chewy dough, light shrimp flavor, dunked in vinegar and chili oil. Amy says that a real man's lunch is 24 of these with two bottles of beer. I am not a real man.

Potstickers: I don't love these. But they're fried, which is a plus.

Veggie mu shu: Hoisin sauce makes everything wonderful. Also, the tree fungus is delicious. And they make their own pancakes, nice and thick.

Mongolian beef: Actually good. The beef is not battered, but is crispy nonetheless. How do they do it?

Kung pao shrimp: Eh. Brown-ish sauce.

Spinach and garlic: !!! That is all. No, not all. Wonderful and green - none of the icky too-cooked spinach astringency.

Original dry fried chicken: The piece de resistance. Words cannot describe the crunchiness of the batter or the exquisite sel et sucre sauce - but they try.

I <3 San Tung. And owls.