My parents were in town this weekend, which is probably the most exciting thing that has happened all month. Since visitor weekends always involve a lot of eating out, they suggested (forcefully) that I should write about these meals. Although I'm sure I won't do them justice, here are some highlights of the weekend.
On Friday, after breakfast at Tartine, we took the ferry to Angel Island. We spent the majority of our time lying on a defunct gun battery, getting sunburns (in San Francisco - mon dieu!). A small bit of time was spent eating the picnic lunch that my mother collected from the Ferry Building. Being my mother, she was wise enough to seek out the riches from Lulu Petite. Also being my mother, she packed more desserts than savory dishes. We are clearly not related.
Saturday also began with Tartine. If I could make their morning buns, I would be the Grand Ruler of the World. I'm sure this is why they exclude the recipe from their cookbook. Saturday continued with a wine soaked visit to Foreign Cinema (sans Francesca) and a windy drive to Half Moon Bay (avec Francesca, who pranced in the ocean and now smells like dead mussels). And Saturday ended with...Cortez! For Nate's birthday dinner. The food was wonderful, as usual, and I had their signature cocktail, a Cucumber Gimlet. Very refreshing. And very intoxicating, as indicated by the shenanigans that followed our pre-dinner cocktails. Lots of giggling and Mom-shushing and speculations on the occupations of fellow diners. Also a VERY loud fight about word choices. I'm sure our server was happy to be rid of us, although he was very charming and helpful.
We wound down on Sunday with homemade peach pancakes and lunch at 'WichCraft. Sad to see Mom and Dad go, but US Airways whisked them away that afternoon.
I seem to have forgotten about our dinner on Thursday night. For good reason - although the appetizers and desserts are innovative and fresh and delicious at Baraka, the entrees seem to come from a different kitchen entirely. I must remember that the next time we think we are too hungry to wait for Chez Papa or Aperto.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Clearly I have lost my own bet. Day three of "week of writing every day" and this is my second post. Well, as they say in both dieting and recovery circles, take it one day at a time. There will be an entry today.
S+O, Kara, and I went to Lo Coco's for S's birthday dinner last night. Lo Coco's generally thwarts our attempts at frequenting their establishment (like last Tuesday, when we wound up at Chez Panisse). Not last night, though. At Kara's suggestion, we decide to BYOB, and picked up a Barbera and something white from Vintage Berkeley. Two very exciting events occured before and after this Vintage Berkeley visit. Before: Pretty in Pink cupcakes from Love at First Bite. I think I have discovered their secret for the strawberry flavor. I will not divulge that here. After: Found and purchased a first edition of MFK Fisher's translation of the Physiology of Taste. !!! Nate thought I was crazy when I brought home a 60 year old book and wouldn't shut up about it. Perhaps I am.
Lo Coco's was excellent, as usual. The hostess had a bit of an attitude, as they sometimes do, but she loosened up as the night wore on. We had a green salad, insalata caprese, tortellini campagnola, linguine with meatballs, and pizza with eggplant and garlic. All fresh and well-prepared. Standouts: tortellini campagnola and the meatballs. The tortellini are bathed in a cream sauce with a touch of nutmeg. There is always a lot of sauce left on the plate after the pasta is gone, which is great, because you can soak the homemade bread in it. The meatballs have currants and pinenuts in them! They are sweet and delicious and wonderful. Sigh.
S+O, Kara, and I went to Lo Coco's for S's birthday dinner last night. Lo Coco's generally thwarts our attempts at frequenting their establishment (like last Tuesday, when we wound up at Chez Panisse). Not last night, though. At Kara's suggestion, we decide to BYOB, and picked up a Barbera and something white from Vintage Berkeley. Two very exciting events occured before and after this Vintage Berkeley visit. Before: Pretty in Pink cupcakes from Love at First Bite. I think I have discovered their secret for the strawberry flavor. I will not divulge that here. After: Found and purchased a first edition of MFK Fisher's translation of the Physiology of Taste. !!! Nate thought I was crazy when I brought home a 60 year old book and wouldn't shut up about it. Perhaps I am.
Lo Coco's was excellent, as usual. The hostess had a bit of an attitude, as they sometimes do, but she loosened up as the night wore on. We had a green salad, insalata caprese, tortellini campagnola, linguine with meatballs, and pizza with eggplant and garlic. All fresh and well-prepared. Standouts: tortellini campagnola and the meatballs. The tortellini are bathed in a cream sauce with a touch of nutmeg. There is always a lot of sauce left on the plate after the pasta is gone, which is great, because you can soak the homemade bread in it. The meatballs have currants and pinenuts in them! They are sweet and delicious and wonderful. Sigh.
Friday, July 6, 2007
attempts to be a real blogger.
I believe that four people check this website regularly. One of them, a real blogger, tells me that I need to update my blog more frequently. As in, more than once a month. In an attempt to appease her voracious appetite for food-related nonsense, I am going to write every day for the next week. Ha. We'll see what happens.
On a happier note, two of my most favorite things came together in one dish at Garcon. Oeufs cocottes and foie gras. Eggs, baked in a ramekin with butter and cream, and some foie thrown in for good measure. Accompanied by long toast spears. Mmm. I know that Garcon tends to get mixed reviews, but for the rich things, like foie gras, and pork butt, and other fatty, dark meats and legumes, they're good. Maybe it has something to do with their proximity to my house. Boh.
Unrelated to Garcon, aside from the cost of the meals, is a spontaneous visit S+O and I made to Chez Panisse on Tuesday. One of the highlights, along with eating at 10:15 and feeling very continental, was the Vouvray we had with our first two courses. I'm not exactly sure what it was, aside from the fact that it was French (duh) and in a demi-bouteille. But it was good. Also, the goat cheese salad at CP is always great (in my limited, two visit experience). In Paris, all goat cheese salads are good, mysteriously, but that is not the case in America. Many thanks to Chez Panisse for warm creamy cheese and a well-constructed vinaigrette. Also, I have to mention the baby onions that accompanied the lamb shoulder for our main course. They were yummy.
Clearly, I am having trouble describing food, and writing in general. I think that I have florescent light poisoning. And wobbly desk syndrome. And my job is mindnumbingly boring and thankless disease.
Perhaps things will look up tomorrow.
On a happier note, two of my most favorite things came together in one dish at Garcon. Oeufs cocottes and foie gras. Eggs, baked in a ramekin with butter and cream, and some foie thrown in for good measure. Accompanied by long toast spears. Mmm. I know that Garcon tends to get mixed reviews, but for the rich things, like foie gras, and pork butt, and other fatty, dark meats and legumes, they're good. Maybe it has something to do with their proximity to my house. Boh.
Unrelated to Garcon, aside from the cost of the meals, is a spontaneous visit S+O and I made to Chez Panisse on Tuesday. One of the highlights, along with eating at 10:15 and feeling very continental, was the Vouvray we had with our first two courses. I'm not exactly sure what it was, aside from the fact that it was French (duh) and in a demi-bouteille. But it was good. Also, the goat cheese salad at CP is always great (in my limited, two visit experience). In Paris, all goat cheese salads are good, mysteriously, but that is not the case in America. Many thanks to Chez Panisse for warm creamy cheese and a well-constructed vinaigrette. Also, I have to mention the baby onions that accompanied the lamb shoulder for our main course. They were yummy.
Clearly, I am having trouble describing food, and writing in general. I think that I have florescent light poisoning. And wobbly desk syndrome. And my job is mindnumbingly boring and thankless disease.
Perhaps things will look up tomorrow.
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.
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.
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.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Fried glands, take two.
Fennel and cilantro. These are the remains of the first organic vegetable box to be delivered to our household. A good idea, that. I don't think that I would have thought of buying kale at the market, but I'm happy it arrived in the box last week - tasty. But the fennel and cilantro have been the unfortunate victims of a common disease in our household. We are soo lazy, sometimes. I have excuses. New dog. Energy-sapping, soul-sucking job. It's often a lack of imagination. Perhaps the next box will fare better.
Often the outcome of a moment of extreme laziness is an unforgiveable sin. Domino's. McDonald's. Boston Market. I would go on, but then everyone would know my shame. Sometimes the outcome is a different kind of unforgiveable sin. Gluttony, I think it's called. These dinners don't happen often, but when they do, they're worth writing about. Ah, Cortez.
I know that sweetbreads are either the pancreas or thymus gland of a cow (and/or baby cow). What I do not know is how to tell which of these glands is on the plate when it comes out of the kitchen. Regardless, what came out of the kitchen at Cortez last night was very exciting. Sweetbreads and squid with onions...ooh-wee.
Starting with El Diablo: tequila, creme de cassis, lime, and ginger beer. Then the sweetbreads + squid. And...salad. But not boring salad. Mizuna greens and manchego. Also ravioli with mushrooms and parmesean foam. Remember Marcel from the last season of Top Chef, with the molecular gastronomy? Yeah, like that. But, as I'm sure you could not tell through the medium of TV, the foam is great. Rich, and then it disappears. A whole meal made out of foam would be a dieter's heaven. Perhaps. Not sure how the calories fit into that.
Moving on. A glass of white burgundy with crusted halibut. The standout of this dish was the super sweet onion and the way it blended with the fish and spinach. Really, not a standout, I suppose. More like a perfect combination. And although it was not my dish, I must mention the aged sirloin. Because it was. That. Good. Like a fantastic New York Strip, but smoother. More of a bite, more flavor. Atop a bed of potatoes and cheese (?) pureed beyond recognition. The forkful, followed by a sip of cabernet, was intricate and satisfying. I won't try to relay the moment in any further detail.
And, dessert. Toffee parfait inside cruchy chocolate, with popcorn ice cream and sour gelled fruit. Junk food, but pretty. With a shot of maple liquer. I wasn't driving.
And now you can see why it was so hard to come up with something to make for dinner tonight. Lit'l Smokies and pasta just aren't going to top fried glands, invertebrate seafood and liquid toffee fluff. Although I do love Lit'l Smokies.
Often the outcome of a moment of extreme laziness is an unforgiveable sin. Domino's. McDonald's. Boston Market. I would go on, but then everyone would know my shame. Sometimes the outcome is a different kind of unforgiveable sin. Gluttony, I think it's called. These dinners don't happen often, but when they do, they're worth writing about. Ah, Cortez.
I know that sweetbreads are either the pancreas or thymus gland of a cow (and/or baby cow). What I do not know is how to tell which of these glands is on the plate when it comes out of the kitchen. Regardless, what came out of the kitchen at Cortez last night was very exciting. Sweetbreads and squid with onions...ooh-wee.
Starting with El Diablo: tequila, creme de cassis, lime, and ginger beer. Then the sweetbreads + squid. And...salad. But not boring salad. Mizuna greens and manchego. Also ravioli with mushrooms and parmesean foam. Remember Marcel from the last season of Top Chef, with the molecular gastronomy? Yeah, like that. But, as I'm sure you could not tell through the medium of TV, the foam is great. Rich, and then it disappears. A whole meal made out of foam would be a dieter's heaven. Perhaps. Not sure how the calories fit into that.
Moving on. A glass of white burgundy with crusted halibut. The standout of this dish was the super sweet onion and the way it blended with the fish and spinach. Really, not a standout, I suppose. More like a perfect combination. And although it was not my dish, I must mention the aged sirloin. Because it was. That. Good. Like a fantastic New York Strip, but smoother. More of a bite, more flavor. Atop a bed of potatoes and cheese (?) pureed beyond recognition. The forkful, followed by a sip of cabernet, was intricate and satisfying. I won't try to relay the moment in any further detail.
And, dessert. Toffee parfait inside cruchy chocolate, with popcorn ice cream and sour gelled fruit. Junk food, but pretty. With a shot of maple liquer. I wasn't driving.
And now you can see why it was so hard to come up with something to make for dinner tonight. Lit'l Smokies and pasta just aren't going to top fried glands, invertebrate seafood and liquid toffee fluff. Although I do love Lit'l Smokies.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
How to eat fried glands
Saturday night, S + O and I went to Chapeau! in the Richmond. I've wanted to try sweetbreads for several years now, and I heard they were on the menu. Also, S and I always like an excuse to drink too much wine and be driven around by O.
Ah, thymus glands. The sweetbreads at Chapeau! were fried and drizzled with a deep mushroom sauce, with some itty bitty carrots and parsnips on the side. They have an organ-y taste, but it's very light, as is their texture. We also had the foie gras, which was fantastic. Seared lightly on top of a bit of toast, with an amazing vinegar and honey sauce. It gave the foie at the General's Daughter a run for the money.
Altogether, Chapeau! gets an A+. The proprietor is charming (and was happy to see another Parisian in the form of O) and suggested a great wine to go with dinner. Embarrassingly, I cannot remember what it was, except that it was something white and a little buttery, from France. Normally, I prefer a crisper white, but it was perfect with our wide range of dishes: foie gras, sweetbreads, salmon, halibut, monkfish, and cassoulet.
Hat! - we will be back.
Ah, thymus glands. The sweetbreads at Chapeau! were fried and drizzled with a deep mushroom sauce, with some itty bitty carrots and parsnips on the side. They have an organ-y taste, but it's very light, as is their texture. We also had the foie gras, which was fantastic. Seared lightly on top of a bit of toast, with an amazing vinegar and honey sauce. It gave the foie at the General's Daughter a run for the money.
Altogether, Chapeau! gets an A+. The proprietor is charming (and was happy to see another Parisian in the form of O) and suggested a great wine to go with dinner. Embarrassingly, I cannot remember what it was, except that it was something white and a little buttery, from France. Normally, I prefer a crisper white, but it was perfect with our wide range of dishes: foie gras, sweetbreads, salmon, halibut, monkfish, and cassoulet.
Hat! - we will be back.
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