Currently watching: Marked Woman starring Bette Davis
Showing posts with label Food and Dining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food and Dining. Show all posts
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Winter Cocktail Event with Scott Beattie
Photo: Bleeding Orange (topped with foam, edible lavender flowers, grilled & candied Rangpur limes)Taking a Winter Cocktail class at the Ferry Plaza Building through CUESA was exciting because lead by artisanal cocktail master, Scott Beattie, from Healdsburg's Cyrus (I wrote about it in The Perfect Spot). Besides getting educated on how to make gorgeous foams, rims and syrups, Dan and I got to imbibe and make three cocktails, the beauty of the day in taste and presentation being the Bleeding Orange, found in his book. Topped with edible flowers and a candied or a slow-roasted Rangpur lime from Scott's back yard, the drink was Charbay Blood Orange and Meyer Lemon vodkas with fresh-squeezed Meyer lemon, blood orange, Fee Bros peach bitters and homemade simple syrup of nutmeg, allspice, cinnamon.
Currently watching: The Catherine Cookson Collection: The Moth
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
"Bottle Shock" screening
Last night, I was "press" for a screening of "Bottle Shock"(love those free screenings, Guardian!) I took Annelies. As always, we had a heartwarming talk about what we both love best: cities, social justice, writing, the arts, travel, food and drink... finding our call and purpose as we grow older. Apropos then to see a film about the wine industry and a "later in life" realization of huge dreams. The film is about how California (Napa) changed the wine world in the '70's when the top palates and wine names in France chose the best red and wine wines of the year in a blind tasting, certain they were French, the world leader (followed by Italy) for many centuries prior. But they chose CA wines in both categories based on taste (red from Stag's Leap, white from Chateau Montelena - one of Dan & I's favorite Napa hangouts for over 7 years), and ever since, the monopoly on world's best wines is no longer held in primarily Europe.
It's not a perfect film by any means (Alan Rickman pulls out the best performance, not surprisingly), but it's a rousing story, showing how "the establishment" can, and at some point will, be disrupted. It shows what's possible on the other side of seeming failure... and how "the new" can invigorate "the old". Makes me proud to be from this area and celebrate such rich history and influence in my daily life of food and drink.
Even better, winemakers portrayed in the film were there, as were the husband/wife producers. The most darling middle-aged couple, married 21 years, they spoke of their love for wine and film that led to the making of this indie for well under $10 million. Their obvious passion for the subject was invigorating, as was their team approach to pursuing their dreams - it made me think of my Daniel with fond hope for a future where we continue to dream, create and actualize together. Never too old for something new.
Currently listening : Sam Cooke - Greatest Hits
It's not a perfect film by any means (Alan Rickman pulls out the best performance, not surprisingly), but it's a rousing story, showing how "the establishment" can, and at some point will, be disrupted. It shows what's possible on the other side of seeming failure... and how "the new" can invigorate "the old". Makes me proud to be from this area and celebrate such rich history and influence in my daily life of food and drink.
Even better, winemakers portrayed in the film were there, as were the husband/wife producers. The most darling middle-aged couple, married 21 years, they spoke of their love for wine and film that led to the making of this indie for well under $10 million. Their obvious passion for the subject was invigorating, as was their team approach to pursuing their dreams - it made me think of my Daniel with fond hope for a future where we continue to dream, create and actualize together. Never too old for something new.
Currently listening : Sam Cooke - Greatest Hits
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Hearing and seeing more because we've tasted more
Reading more essays from the greatest food (and just plain great) writer of all time, M.F.K. Fisher. In "A Stew or A Story", here are some choice quotes from favorite essays, including wonderful bits on California:
From "Shall It Be... Eating or Dining?" (1944):
[After describing an ideal meal and courses, ending with coffee]..."I think the magic would have happened, and we'd sit for a long time with our elbows on the table, talking easily, hearing and seeing more than we had for some time because of the way we'd tasted more."
From the enlightening "Love in a Dish" (1948):
[In describing the three basic needs of life, food, love, shelter, and the poor quality and care of food]: "...having failed so completely to satisfy in harmony one of their three basic needs, it cannot be wondered that the other two, for love and shelter, are increasingly unfulfilled. There can be no warm, rich home life anywhere else if it does not exist at table, and in the same way there can be no enduring family happiness, no real marriage, if a man and woman cannot open themselves generously and without suspicion one to the other over a shared bowl of soup as well as a shared caress."
From "If This Were My Place" (1950):
[In describing her perfect restaurant, particularly a meal in San Francisco at a crusty, classic seafood place]..."If I were running this place... I'd leave it just as it is, cluttered and funny and right - right for now, that is: a bottle of cold light white wine, sizzling crab-legs meuniere, crisp bread on an ugly thick white plate, and beyond them the fog and the sound of harbor horns. But last week another place was right, a lunch of pure fantasy, of equally fantastic expense and 'restauraterie', in a beautifully appointed and beautifully managed and beautifully dishonest Beverly Hills hash house. And far back in my mind is that light high-voiced subtle room in New York, where the champagne and the finnan haddie were so completely right. If I were running this place, the mythical Perfect Restaurant, I'd try to be honest and fantastic and artful, so that I could serve forth what would be, at a given moment, the essential food, the nourishment most needed in a man's Design for Living."
From "The Art of Eating, California Style" (1981):
"... all I really know from experience is that the California way is the best, gastronomically, except perhaps for small places in southern France. But I have talked about California style with other people who know a lot more than I do, and they all agree that the eating, the foods, the dishes and the styles of cooking are for some reason better here than anywhere else in the United States. Why? I repeat. They reply: it's the freshness, the easiness, the availability. Or is it the ethnic influences? Or perhaps the climate? ... I have tentatively concluded that all of those factors are involved."
From "Only in Spots Have We Tamed the California Coast" (1985):
"The California coast stretches, for some thirteen hundred miles, from the Oregon border to Mexico. I have spent many of the good moments of my life along it, from the time I was three years old unti8l now, and I would ask no better than to end my days with the smell and sound of its wild surf wrapped around me."
"Across the water to the south [from Marin], blazing and twinkling at night and serene in all the changing lights of day, is San Francisco. Its court jester has named it Baghdad-on-the-Bay. This evocative title will do until a better one happens, but the City is literally indescribable... I have yet to leave San Francisco willingly... My only comfort is that I am confident I'll return, in one way or another, even as a ghost... It is the focal point of the whole beautiful coastline... The City, as its lovers smugly call it, rises pearly on its many hills, and all roads, at least in California, seem to lead to it. People feel lighter there, in their myriad ways, and there are clip joints and penthouses of utmost squalor or elegance to satisfy them, as they breathe the wonderful washed air and walk with unaccustomed vigor along the tipping streets. It is a fine place to be, the glowing jewel of the California coastline, in the planet's crown of such mysterious happenings."
Currently watching : Brideshead Revisited [Theatrical Release] 2008
From "Shall It Be... Eating or Dining?" (1944):
[After describing an ideal meal and courses, ending with coffee]..."I think the magic would have happened, and we'd sit for a long time with our elbows on the table, talking easily, hearing and seeing more than we had for some time because of the way we'd tasted more."
From the enlightening "Love in a Dish" (1948):
[In describing the three basic needs of life, food, love, shelter, and the poor quality and care of food]: "...having failed so completely to satisfy in harmony one of their three basic needs, it cannot be wondered that the other two, for love and shelter, are increasingly unfulfilled. There can be no warm, rich home life anywhere else if it does not exist at table, and in the same way there can be no enduring family happiness, no real marriage, if a man and woman cannot open themselves generously and without suspicion one to the other over a shared bowl of soup as well as a shared caress."
From "If This Were My Place" (1950):
[In describing her perfect restaurant, particularly a meal in San Francisco at a crusty, classic seafood place]..."If I were running this place... I'd leave it just as it is, cluttered and funny and right - right for now, that is: a bottle of cold light white wine, sizzling crab-legs meuniere, crisp bread on an ugly thick white plate, and beyond them the fog and the sound of harbor horns. But last week another place was right, a lunch of pure fantasy, of equally fantastic expense and 'restauraterie', in a beautifully appointed and beautifully managed and beautifully dishonest Beverly Hills hash house. And far back in my mind is that light high-voiced subtle room in New York, where the champagne and the finnan haddie were so completely right. If I were running this place, the mythical Perfect Restaurant, I'd try to be honest and fantastic and artful, so that I could serve forth what would be, at a given moment, the essential food, the nourishment most needed in a man's Design for Living."
From "The Art of Eating, California Style" (1981):
"... all I really know from experience is that the California way is the best, gastronomically, except perhaps for small places in southern France. But I have talked about California style with other people who know a lot more than I do, and they all agree that the eating, the foods, the dishes and the styles of cooking are for some reason better here than anywhere else in the United States. Why? I repeat. They reply: it's the freshness, the easiness, the availability. Or is it the ethnic influences? Or perhaps the climate? ... I have tentatively concluded that all of those factors are involved."
From "Only in Spots Have We Tamed the California Coast" (1985):
"The California coast stretches, for some thirteen hundred miles, from the Oregon border to Mexico. I have spent many of the good moments of my life along it, from the time I was three years old unti8l now, and I would ask no better than to end my days with the smell and sound of its wild surf wrapped around me."
"Across the water to the south [from Marin], blazing and twinkling at night and serene in all the changing lights of day, is San Francisco. Its court jester has named it Baghdad-on-the-Bay. This evocative title will do until a better one happens, but the City is literally indescribable... I have yet to leave San Francisco willingly... My only comfort is that I am confident I'll return, in one way or another, even as a ghost... It is the focal point of the whole beautiful coastline... The City, as its lovers smugly call it, rises pearly on its many hills, and all roads, at least in California, seem to lead to it. People feel lighter there, in their myriad ways, and there are clip joints and penthouses of utmost squalor or elegance to satisfy them, as they breathe the wonderful washed air and walk with unaccustomed vigor along the tipping streets. It is a fine place to be, the glowing jewel of the California coastline, in the planet's crown of such mysterious happenings."
Currently watching : Brideshead Revisited [Theatrical Release] 2008
Monday, July 07, 2008
Sonoma Redux
This Summer has meant a few excursions to Sonoma for Dan and I. Funny, since I hate Wine Country's scorching Summer weather, and prefer all other seasons (Fall!!) Yet somehow, it's been calling, and we've responded: exploring Sonoma Valley in particular (in the past, we often focused on Russian River and Healdsburg regions). I didn't think our near perfect June day trip could be topped. Yesterday, it was.
Starting in Santa Rosa with a pleasant lunch at Kabab and Curry House (Mango Chicken Curry, the one real highlight), we meandered through a number of lovely wineries, tasting little, but wandering grounds throughout Kenwood and Glen Ellen. After lazy hours exploring the countryside (including a stop for our favorite Wine Country Chocolates), we ended up late afternoon on the square of idyllic downtown Sonoma.
We peeked in historic, gorgeous Ledson Hotel's open-air lobby: Harmony Lounge. Though the heat was oppressive, confronted by crisp air conditioning within. One misstep in this lush room was two flat screen TVs, though discreetly placed. Diana Krall (live in Paris) played on both, and though not a huge fan (I prefer her repertoire of standards sung by jazz greats), the lilting calm of the music was just right...
We ordered a refreshing cocktail and a glass of fabulous Schramsberg Brut Rose as we sat by an unlit fireplace in big chairs, with dainty tables holding our drinks. We were startled as the grand piano next to us suddenly began playing along with Krall's piano, perfectly timed! The effect was one of live concert, reverberating through this opulent room of marble, velvet chairs, and chandeliers.
Dan read a novel, and I, my dear T.S. Eliot. It's been awhile since I've revisited old friend, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", so today I did. As always, his poetry envelops. Add sexy jazz, sultry heat clashing with crisp air, the tingle of fresh mint in my cocktail, and my senses were awake, my heart alive with love for Dan... for our life.
Eliot's atmospheric words added to the mesmerizing tapestry of gratefulness holding me. My favorite part of the poem is my favorite passage still, much as I adore the rest:
How can one part with such perfection? Only to move on to more... we made reservations for dinner at a gorgeous, stately 1800's home we stumbled upon on our last Sonoma visit, housing an elegant Southern restaurant, The General's Daughter. The meal was as good as we'd hoped, including the best Mint Julep (blissful fresh peach! with the mint and bourbon), a rich Cauliflower Risotto (with aged gouda and maple vinegar) and addictive Shrimp and Grits (with andouille sausage and leeks).
Satiated and satisfied, we took our wine out to the front (wrap-around) porch, which we had to ourselves, and sat down in rocking chairs. Just past sunset (8-9pm), this last hour was the most blissful of all. Dan smoked a special cigar and we talked, sat in silence, ruminated, reflected. I read some of Eliot's poetry aloud. We dreamed. We were alive.
The drive home embodied our day: the hills were outlined by remnants of Sunset's pink, melding with Night's dark blue... the gentle Wine Country breezes on a cooled down (though still warm) Summer's night... the soothing voice of Ella serenading us in the car... I caressed his neck, he held my hand as he drove... smiles of complete happiness... Together. Unified in beauty, living, tasting and seeing, love.
Indeed, there IS, and will be, time.
Starting in Santa Rosa with a pleasant lunch at Kabab and Curry House (Mango Chicken Curry, the one real highlight), we meandered through a number of lovely wineries, tasting little, but wandering grounds throughout Kenwood and Glen Ellen. After lazy hours exploring the countryside (including a stop for our favorite Wine Country Chocolates), we ended up late afternoon on the square of idyllic downtown Sonoma.
We peeked in historic, gorgeous Ledson Hotel's open-air lobby: Harmony Lounge. Though the heat was oppressive, confronted by crisp air conditioning within. One misstep in this lush room was two flat screen TVs, though discreetly placed. Diana Krall (live in Paris) played on both, and though not a huge fan (I prefer her repertoire of standards sung by jazz greats), the lilting calm of the music was just right...
We ordered a refreshing cocktail and a glass of fabulous Schramsberg Brut Rose as we sat by an unlit fireplace in big chairs, with dainty tables holding our drinks. We were startled as the grand piano next to us suddenly began playing along with Krall's piano, perfectly timed! The effect was one of live concert, reverberating through this opulent room of marble, velvet chairs, and chandeliers.
Dan read a novel, and I, my dear T.S. Eliot. It's been awhile since I've revisited old friend, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", so today I did. As always, his poetry envelops. Add sexy jazz, sultry heat clashing with crisp air, the tingle of fresh mint in my cocktail, and my senses were awake, my heart alive with love for Dan... for our life.
Eliot's atmospheric words added to the mesmerizing tapestry of gratefulness holding me. My favorite part of the poem is my favorite passage still, much as I adore the rest:
How can one part with such perfection? Only to move on to more... we made reservations for dinner at a gorgeous, stately 1800's home we stumbled upon on our last Sonoma visit, housing an elegant Southern restaurant, The General's Daughter. The meal was as good as we'd hoped, including the best Mint Julep (blissful fresh peach! with the mint and bourbon), a rich Cauliflower Risotto (with aged gouda and maple vinegar) and addictive Shrimp and Grits (with andouille sausage and leeks).
Satiated and satisfied, we took our wine out to the front (wrap-around) porch, which we had to ourselves, and sat down in rocking chairs. Just past sunset (8-9pm), this last hour was the most blissful of all. Dan smoked a special cigar and we talked, sat in silence, ruminated, reflected. I read some of Eliot's poetry aloud. We dreamed. We were alive.
The drive home embodied our day: the hills were outlined by remnants of Sunset's pink, melding with Night's dark blue... the gentle Wine Country breezes on a cooled down (though still warm) Summer's night... the soothing voice of Ella serenading us in the car... I caressed his neck, he held my hand as he drove... smiles of complete happiness... Together. Unified in beauty, living, tasting and seeing, love.
Indeed, there IS, and will be, time.
 | Currently listening to: Fight With Tools By: Flobots Release date: 2008-05-20 |
Monday, June 02, 2008
day in sonoma
Every time Dan and I explore together, I find new beauties in this spectacular area I call home... new treasures we both get excited about, expanding our pleasure by sharing it (geeky or not).
After a French brunch at Sausalito's new Le Garage (dig that French Toast with homemade creme fraiche), we drove North to some wineries near Sebastopol, before ending up at the also brand new (had to hit 'em up, you know) Hopmonk Tavern, a beer garden and hofbrau that wasn't as kitschy as we'd have liked but more industrial and modern. Still, lots of beers on tap (made Dannee happy) and a kick ass plate of German-style sausages, grilled onions, cabbage, potatoes and an unforgettable creamy mustard sauce (made me happy).
Sitting at the bar, we ended up getting into a long conversation with the man next to us, a well known chef in the area whose restaurant was Zagat-rated, and certainly known by me. He was as cool as could be and excited about our love of food, drink and travel and about my food writing. He tipped us off to a massive vintage clothing store nearby where he's opening a French cafe (unusual), so we visited that after a great talk with him.
The next step was Matanzas Creek Winery which we didn't taste at but was a magical discovery with it's lush, purple lavender field. California quail were cooing, dashing through the lavender bushes, providing childlike entertainment for my bird lover husband and making the backdrop even more enchanting for photos and lingering.
Driving through Glen Ellen that afternoon, we stumbled on Jack London Village, in one light, a plain, old Wine Country shopping mall. But for us, food discoveries awaited. A cheese tasting chamber!? Bright, fresh lemon olive oil. Exquisite chocolates at the blandly named Wine Country Chocolates (nothin' bland about the PB&J, Elvis - PB&Banana, of course! - and Cinnamon w/ Clover Honey truffles! I am dreaming of more!) Bluegrass Bar & Grill - a delightful old mill converted to a restaurant with a fabulous outdoor patio over a stream, modern cowboy decor and most of all, amazing beef brisket!
The evening ended with a walk around downtown Sonoma's idyllic square, checking out menus, walking each alley, peeking in windows and basking in the glow of that pre-twilight hour.
Currently watching : God Grew Tired of Us (Documentary)
After a French brunch at Sausalito's new Le Garage (dig that French Toast with homemade creme fraiche), we drove North to some wineries near Sebastopol, before ending up at the also brand new (had to hit 'em up, you know) Hopmonk Tavern, a beer garden and hofbrau that wasn't as kitschy as we'd have liked but more industrial and modern. Still, lots of beers on tap (made Dannee happy) and a kick ass plate of German-style sausages, grilled onions, cabbage, potatoes and an unforgettable creamy mustard sauce (made me happy).
Sitting at the bar, we ended up getting into a long conversation with the man next to us, a well known chef in the area whose restaurant was Zagat-rated, and certainly known by me. He was as cool as could be and excited about our love of food, drink and travel and about my food writing. He tipped us off to a massive vintage clothing store nearby where he's opening a French cafe (unusual), so we visited that after a great talk with him.
The next step was Matanzas Creek Winery which we didn't taste at but was a magical discovery with it's lush, purple lavender field. California quail were cooing, dashing through the lavender bushes, providing childlike entertainment for my bird lover husband and making the backdrop even more enchanting for photos and lingering.
Driving through Glen Ellen that afternoon, we stumbled on Jack London Village, in one light, a plain, old Wine Country shopping mall. But for us, food discoveries awaited. A cheese tasting chamber!? Bright, fresh lemon olive oil. Exquisite chocolates at the blandly named Wine Country Chocolates (nothin' bland about the PB&J, Elvis - PB&Banana, of course! - and Cinnamon w/ Clover Honey truffles! I am dreaming of more!) Bluegrass Bar & Grill - a delightful old mill converted to a restaurant with a fabulous outdoor patio over a stream, modern cowboy decor and most of all, amazing beef brisket!
The evening ended with a walk around downtown Sonoma's idyllic square, checking out menus, walking each alley, peeking in windows and basking in the glow of that pre-twilight hour.
Currently watching : God Grew Tired of Us (Documentary)
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
My Food/Dining Newsletter
I've launched it so sign up if you love food, travel (I'll cover mulitple cities) or San Francisco...
Click on the link below to sign up for the first issue of my The Perfect Spot SF Newsletter.
Please forward to anyone you know who is a "foodie", traveler, lives in the Bay Area, is visiting San Francisco or who is interested in the culinary world.
I will send monthly newsletters with San Francisco news as well as reviews from my travels. www.theperfectspotsf.com/news/
 | Currently listening : The Best of Miss Peggy Lee By Peggy Lee |
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
taste and see
Beautiful thoughts from Chapter 9 of "Take This Bread", by Sara Miles; mirrors my thoughts and current state:
"[The stories of Jesus both pre and post resurrection, eating and meeting with people - revealing himself in bread and wine] point to ... a radically inclusive love that accompanied people in the most ordinary of actions - eating, drinking, walking - and stayed with them, through fear, even past death. That love meant giving yourself away, emrbacing outsiders as family, empyting yourself to feed and live for others. The stories illuminated the holiness located in mortal human bodies, and the promise that people could see God by cherishing all those different bodies the way God did. They spoke of a communion so much vaster than any church could contain: one I had sensed all my life could be expressed in the sharing of food, particularly with strangers..."
"Conversion isn't... a moment. It's a process, and it keeps happening, with cycles of acceptance and resistance, epiphany and doubt... I began to understand why so many people chose to be 'born-again' and follow strict rules that would tell them what to do, once and for all. It was tempting to rely on formula... that became itself a form of idolatry and kept you from experiencing God in your flesh, in the complicated flesh of others. It was tempting to proclaim yourself 'saved' and go back to sleep.
The faith I was finding was jagged and more difficult. It wasn't about abstract theological debates: Does God exist? Are sin and salvation predestined? Or even about political/idealogical ones: Is capital punishment a sin? Is there a scriptural foundation for accepting homosexuality?
It was about action. Taste and see, the Bible said, and I did. I was tasting a connection between communion and food - between my burgeoning religion and my real life. My first, questioning year at church ended with a question whose urgency would propel me into work I'd never imagined: Now that you've taken the bread, what are you going to do?"
Currently listening : Underneath the Stars By Kate Rusby
"[The stories of Jesus both pre and post resurrection, eating and meeting with people - revealing himself in bread and wine] point to ... a radically inclusive love that accompanied people in the most ordinary of actions - eating, drinking, walking - and stayed with them, through fear, even past death. That love meant giving yourself away, emrbacing outsiders as family, empyting yourself to feed and live for others. The stories illuminated the holiness located in mortal human bodies, and the promise that people could see God by cherishing all those different bodies the way God did. They spoke of a communion so much vaster than any church could contain: one I had sensed all my life could be expressed in the sharing of food, particularly with strangers..."
"Conversion isn't... a moment. It's a process, and it keeps happening, with cycles of acceptance and resistance, epiphany and doubt... I began to understand why so many people chose to be 'born-again' and follow strict rules that would tell them what to do, once and for all. It was tempting to rely on formula... that became itself a form of idolatry and kept you from experiencing God in your flesh, in the complicated flesh of others. It was tempting to proclaim yourself 'saved' and go back to sleep.
The faith I was finding was jagged and more difficult. It wasn't about abstract theological debates: Does God exist? Are sin and salvation predestined? Or even about political/idealogical ones: Is capital punishment a sin? Is there a scriptural foundation for accepting homosexuality?
It was about action. Taste and see, the Bible said, and I did. I was tasting a connection between communion and food - between my burgeoning religion and my real life. My first, questioning year at church ended with a question whose urgency would propel me into work I'd never imagined: Now that you've taken the bread, what are you going to do?"
Currently listening : Underneath the Stars By Kate Rusby
Monday, April 02, 2007
foodie heaven
As she shares of faith, food and feeding as a spiritual act, local San Franciscan Sara Miles, mentions the heavenly 'foodieness' of San Francisco... so true.
"San Francisco was possibly the most food-obssessed place in America. My brother had left New York restaurant work to become executive chef at a culinary school in Vermont. His interns begged to work in San Francisco; his graduates settled gratefully among the oyster fanatics and organic strawberry farmers. San Francisco's fanciest restaurants had become glamorized as high culture, with chefs as local pundits and celebrities. Even neighborhood cafes offered baby mache salad and grilled fennel, lavender creme brulee and pedigreed beef. All over the city, gleaming botique markets displayed the perfect organic peach, the rarest handmade goat cheese, twelve different kinds of artisanal bread. There were stores that sold only chocolates or only virgin olive oil or only rare coffees. It was foodie heaven." - "Take This Bread", by Sara Miles
Currently Watching: Who Killed the Electric Car?
"San Francisco was possibly the most food-obssessed place in America. My brother had left New York restaurant work to become executive chef at a culinary school in Vermont. His interns begged to work in San Francisco; his graduates settled gratefully among the oyster fanatics and organic strawberry farmers. San Francisco's fanciest restaurants had become glamorized as high culture, with chefs as local pundits and celebrities. Even neighborhood cafes offered baby mache salad and grilled fennel, lavender creme brulee and pedigreed beef. All over the city, gleaming botique markets displayed the perfect organic peach, the rarest handmade goat cheese, twelve different kinds of artisanal bread. There were stores that sold only chocolates or only virgin olive oil or only rare coffees. It was foodie heaven." - "Take This Bread", by Sara Miles
Currently Watching: Who Killed the Electric Car?
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Mamacita Restaurant Review
The biggest downside to any restaurant in the Marina, is the Marina crowds/ clientele. If you can get past that, or better yet, go to Mamacita early or on a weeknight, then you will have some of the best, most creative Mexican food in the city.
The tacos are tiny, though you do get three per order. But they are exquisite! Not your hearty, authentic Mission District tacos, but traditional with an experimental presentation. The fish tacos are some of the best I've ever tasted, even in Mexico, but each taco (pork, steak, prawn, etc...) is richly layered with flavors - a surprisingly perfect taste with each bite. Seafood dishes are top notch. The tequila selection, and the flights especially, are pleasing. The margaritas are strong - but not as good as the margaritas at former Cafe Marimba that was in this space.
For creative Mexican, you won't find better in the city - it's slightly better than Maya and Colibri. I am already dreaming about more of those tacos...
Currently reading : Heat: An Amateur's Adventures as Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta-Maker, and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany By Bill Buford
The tacos are tiny, though you do get three per order. But they are exquisite! Not your hearty, authentic Mission District tacos, but traditional with an experimental presentation. The fish tacos are some of the best I've ever tasted, even in Mexico, but each taco (pork, steak, prawn, etc...) is richly layered with flavors - a surprisingly perfect taste with each bite. Seafood dishes are top notch. The tequila selection, and the flights especially, are pleasing. The margaritas are strong - but not as good as the margaritas at former Cafe Marimba that was in this space.
For creative Mexican, you won't find better in the city - it's slightly better than Maya and Colibri. I am already dreaming about more of those tacos...
Currently reading : Heat: An Amateur's Adventures as Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta-Maker, and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany By Bill Buford
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Restaurant Review: The Front Porch
The Front Porch, Mission District, San Francisco (http://thefrontporchsf.com/)
In the pouring rain on a blustery Monday night, we entered a packed new neighborhood restaurant, The Front Porch, in the Outer Mission half a block from the incomparable Mitchell’s Ice Cream. Tucked into what looks like the bottom floor of a house with a front patio (as opposed to a porch) of rocking chairs and tables, the heat inside enveloped us as we ducked in out of the wild wind and rain.
For a Monday night, the place was packed and festive, requiring a 30 minute wait for a table. They only take reservations for groups of five or more so thankfully, with a group, we were seated right away and set up with an affordable carafe of Pinot Noir. The décor was eclectic, funky, yet laid back with warm, candlelit ambience. The welcoming atmosphere was slightly marred by the cacophonous din, requiring leaning in close to be heard.
Pondering the menu, it read as “upscale Southern comfort food” without the upscale prices, the most expensive item being $15, with most entrees around $11. The collard greens with tomatoes, onions and lightly fried potato ‘poppers’ were satisfying though slightly underwhelming. There was nothing exciting about the dish, no distinctive flavor, merely a straightforward, decent presentation of vegetables.
A bigger hit was red bean and coconut soup with spicy avocado mash. The mash was barely spicy, but the dish satisfied in textured beans with a hint of coconut offset by creamy avocado. Addictive and interesting, it raised the expectation level for our entrees.
Moving on to sweet corn grit porridge with Dungeness crab, habanero, lemon and scallion, we could barely finish the large, filling plate. An appetizer and the entrée were plenty for two accompanied by tasty, complimentary corn mini-muffin-like bread. The crab was fresh and sweet, soaked in lemon and scallion, but the dish had almost too much porridge without enough contrast or spice from the nearly non-existent habanero. Still, the overall effect was gratifying and well worth the price.
My vegetarian friend was delighted to find the daily vegan/vegetarian options in an otherwise meat-laden entrée selection. The option was a butternut squash dish with various roasted vegetables, flavorful and hearty.
We ordered the dessert special: a chocolate, peanut butter and banana “fried” sandwich, which seemed to be just some bread with chocolate, PB, banana and whipped cream rather than actually fried. The chocolate was dark, the peanut butter rich, but the bread a bit dry. The Southern “fried” sandwich we were hoping for was not what we were presented with.
A disappointing ending to what was a patchy yet very promising meal. It is immensely better than its overrated sister restaurant, Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack, which is lauded as a ‘hipster’ neighborhood spot, heavy on atmosphere but after multiple visits provides nothing but bland, boring food and obnoxious noise level. The Front Porch is already a huge improvement: cozy, interesting, and affordable with the rare SF option of eclectic Southern American food (thankfully, becoming more popular of late), making me desperately want this local spot to succeed. Having only been open a few months, one hopes that the “kinks” will be worked out and the magic suggested by its warm, intimate glow and front patio rocking chairs will carry over into consistent food … an ideal neighborhood treasure.
In the pouring rain on a blustery Monday night, we entered a packed new neighborhood restaurant, The Front Porch, in the Outer Mission half a block from the incomparable Mitchell’s Ice Cream. Tucked into what looks like the bottom floor of a house with a front patio (as opposed to a porch) of rocking chairs and tables, the heat inside enveloped us as we ducked in out of the wild wind and rain.
For a Monday night, the place was packed and festive, requiring a 30 minute wait for a table. They only take reservations for groups of five or more so thankfully, with a group, we were seated right away and set up with an affordable carafe of Pinot Noir. The décor was eclectic, funky, yet laid back with warm, candlelit ambience. The welcoming atmosphere was slightly marred by the cacophonous din, requiring leaning in close to be heard.
Pondering the menu, it read as “upscale Southern comfort food” without the upscale prices, the most expensive item being $15, with most entrees around $11. The collard greens with tomatoes, onions and lightly fried potato ‘poppers’ were satisfying though slightly underwhelming. There was nothing exciting about the dish, no distinctive flavor, merely a straightforward, decent presentation of vegetables.
A bigger hit was red bean and coconut soup with spicy avocado mash. The mash was barely spicy, but the dish satisfied in textured beans with a hint of coconut offset by creamy avocado. Addictive and interesting, it raised the expectation level for our entrees.
Moving on to sweet corn grit porridge with Dungeness crab, habanero, lemon and scallion, we could barely finish the large, filling plate. An appetizer and the entrée were plenty for two accompanied by tasty, complimentary corn mini-muffin-like bread. The crab was fresh and sweet, soaked in lemon and scallion, but the dish had almost too much porridge without enough contrast or spice from the nearly non-existent habanero. Still, the overall effect was gratifying and well worth the price.
My vegetarian friend was delighted to find the daily vegan/vegetarian options in an otherwise meat-laden entrée selection. The option was a butternut squash dish with various roasted vegetables, flavorful and hearty.
We ordered the dessert special: a chocolate, peanut butter and banana “fried” sandwich, which seemed to be just some bread with chocolate, PB, banana and whipped cream rather than actually fried. The chocolate was dark, the peanut butter rich, but the bread a bit dry. The Southern “fried” sandwich we were hoping for was not what we were presented with.
A disappointing ending to what was a patchy yet very promising meal. It is immensely better than its overrated sister restaurant, Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack, which is lauded as a ‘hipster’ neighborhood spot, heavy on atmosphere but after multiple visits provides nothing but bland, boring food and obnoxious noise level. The Front Porch is already a huge improvement: cozy, interesting, and affordable with the rare SF option of eclectic Southern American food (thankfully, becoming more popular of late), making me desperately want this local spot to succeed. Having only been open a few months, one hopes that the “kinks” will be worked out and the magic suggested by its warm, intimate glow and front patio rocking chairs will carry over into consistent food … an ideal neighborhood treasure.
Monday, June 12, 2006
a San Francisco friday night
The boys and me. A balmy Friday night straight to the 'real' wharf (along the Embarcadero) from work.
Oysters. Vinegar. Cilantro. Fresh, briny juciness. Prongs scooping out the last bits from the shell. Coupled with a subtle white. Watching ships and ferries dock in the Bay.
A few blocks away. Down a velvet carpeted staircase to the basement of a swank 1930's Asian supper club. Blue back lighting. Festive cocktails. Wasabi vodka. Ginger mojitos. Steaming pork buns. Smoky pineapple ribs. Licking glaze off our fingers. Clinking glasses. Live jazz with a smoking B3 Hammond and skilled drums. The glow of red meshed with the blur of drink... the magic of musical notes pulsing throughout.
A perfect Friday night.
Oysters. Vinegar. Cilantro. Fresh, briny juciness. Prongs scooping out the last bits from the shell. Coupled with a subtle white. Watching ships and ferries dock in the Bay.
A few blocks away. Down a velvet carpeted staircase to the basement of a swank 1930's Asian supper club. Blue back lighting. Festive cocktails. Wasabi vodka. Ginger mojitos. Steaming pork buns. Smoky pineapple ribs. Licking glaze off our fingers. Clinking glasses. Live jazz with a smoking B3 Hammond and skilled drums. The glow of red meshed with the blur of drink... the magic of musical notes pulsing throughout.
A perfect Friday night.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
A Restful Weekend
Finally! The past weeks have delivered a series of overly busy weekends filled with visiting guests, weddings and a long list of commitments.
Upon the arrival of this glorious San Francisco weekend of pristine blue sky, warm sun, upper 70 degree weather, and idyllic beauty, Daniel and I "took it easy" and kept our weekend free for rest and each other. What a difference in outlook when one allows themselves to 'putter around' without responsibility for a couple of days. It's too rare, but should not be.
We did sing and play music at church on Sunday morning, arriving early to rehearse, staying half the day as usual. I soloed on "I'll Fly Away" (a countrified gospel version) and "You Alone". But that was the (unusual) extent of our "have tos" for the weekend.
Friday night, Dan and I met at "Izzy's Steak and Chop House" in the Marina. It's old school and musty, the dishes replete with boiled carrots and unimaginative sides. But much character. Reminds me of chop houses in New York, full of personality and charm, history lining its walls in the stories and photos of Izzy, and a bar going strong since Prohibition. Our table was on an elevated platform lined with bottles of BBQ and hot sauces along with ketchups and mustards. The room was playful and cozy, while the food was merely average. Not bad, mind you. Rarely is a meal in San Francisco so, but not up-to-par with what we can get around the city. We had fun with it, however. Me with my MASSIVE burger, Dan with his sirloin steak.
We walked up Union Street afterwards for a little fig and rum raisin gelato from Emporio Rulli, the cafe with a fully Italian feel ethos, right down to the Italian staff and foods. The fig gelato had freezer burn, which did not bode well, but the rum raisin was luscious. We sat on the bench outside while an Italian jazz band played just behind us, and read the newest issue of "The Onion", which had us both uprorious. Ah, the sweet, simple moments.
Saturday started with an always soul-fulfilling four hour conversation with my Anita. Amazing how those hours seemed so brief and that we barely scratched the surface of what we wanted to say. It's amazing to reflect on her kindredship for fifteen years now. I can't say I know anyone my age who has not merely such a long lasting friendship, but one deep and profound as it ever was, with no signs of dying after many years.
After my refreshing discourse with Anita, Dan cooked us a brilliant lunch of juicy pork in our delicious Fig & Balsamic Onion sauce from Napa; moist hominy with cayenne and spices; feta and cherry tomato salad in basalmic and our olive oil from Lucca, Italy; and sweet onions Dan grilled in brown sugar. A watermelon Smirnoff Ice washed it down nicely.
The warm, lazy afternoon led to a couple hours laying out on our rooftop, reading, drinking rasberry/strawberry/mint/triplesec smoothies I made, dozing and getting browned by the sun. Eventually we came inside for a bit of lovemaking and napping. Always a lovely Saturday afternoon.
In the evening, Daniel and I took the J line over the hill to Pauline's Pizza Pie in the Mission. We ordered a half carafe of the house white, delivering a bit of gaiety to our table on this summerlike night. Not since our month in Italy over a year ago have I been able to polish off a few glasses of wine with ease. Well, mostly ease. I did get a bit ridiculous for awhile! We shared a fresh ceasar salad with 'freckled' greens, followed by pizza: half garlic, half artichoke, sage, herbs and meyer lemon oil. Hit the spot. We headed down a couple blocks to Bombay Chaat and Ice Creamerly, an Indian ice cream shop, to get a vibrant ginger and green tea ice cream combo. Yum! It was a lovely walk home up steep Church Street (the J train wasn't in sight so we knew we could walk home in ten minutes instead of waiting for it) at the twilight hour, replete with a stop atop Mission Dolores Park to gaze out at city skyline.
At 9pm, the fireworks from the KFOG Kaboom! festival went off and we ran up to our rooftop where we could (mostly) see them. It was a pure night, shining with full moon and floods of stars. The fireworks were booming and plentiful. We stood like children barefoot on the roof, thrilling to the cacophany of cannon bursts thundering throughout the city.
The evening ended with us renting the 1996 documentary, "Hype!", on the Seattle grunge scene. A Doug Pray film who did "Scratch", which we loved. That doc was much more interesting and solid than "Hype!" but the film still had its moments. I have to say it doesn't paint a particularly good view of Seattle natives. They seem arrogant, simple and dramatic in their representation of the impact of grunge, saying how much they "didn't need the hype" and were so "annoyed" by it, when you could tell they were actually quite proud of the attention it brought Seattle for a time. Still, it made me miss the hard rocking days of Nirvana, PJ, and Soundgarden. Glad I got to see Soundgarden in concert before they disbanded.
Sunday was spent at church half the day, as I mentioned earlier, with a rowdy lunch at Ali Baba's Cave (we sat on pillows on the floor in the 'cave') for a middle eastern spread. Dan and Natashia were keeping things moving with their bizzare, infectious humor and Mark and Dave plowed through absolutely giant plates of (cheap) food. We stepped next door afterwards for root beer floats at Burger Joint as Dave shared with us details of his work in carpentry and Mark reminisced about his home state of Hawaii.
We spent the evening on Sunday talking to family on the phones, Dan worked on his music, I read. It was a much needed weekend and the kind of pace I yearn to set more frequently in our "go, go, go" society which demands constant action to be of value. If we're ever going to give in to the creative in us, we need time, "endless hours of noodling and doodling", says Georgia O'Keefe, who reiterates that takes time to "see" a flower, really see it, before we can paint or photograph it.
Here's to seeing.
Upon the arrival of this glorious San Francisco weekend of pristine blue sky, warm sun, upper 70 degree weather, and idyllic beauty, Daniel and I "took it easy" and kept our weekend free for rest and each other. What a difference in outlook when one allows themselves to 'putter around' without responsibility for a couple of days. It's too rare, but should not be.
We did sing and play music at church on Sunday morning, arriving early to rehearse, staying half the day as usual. I soloed on "I'll Fly Away" (a countrified gospel version) and "You Alone". But that was the (unusual) extent of our "have tos" for the weekend.
Friday night, Dan and I met at "Izzy's Steak and Chop House" in the Marina. It's old school and musty, the dishes replete with boiled carrots and unimaginative sides. But much character. Reminds me of chop houses in New York, full of personality and charm, history lining its walls in the stories and photos of Izzy, and a bar going strong since Prohibition. Our table was on an elevated platform lined with bottles of BBQ and hot sauces along with ketchups and mustards. The room was playful and cozy, while the food was merely average. Not bad, mind you. Rarely is a meal in San Francisco so, but not up-to-par with what we can get around the city. We had fun with it, however. Me with my MASSIVE burger, Dan with his sirloin steak.
We walked up Union Street afterwards for a little fig and rum raisin gelato from Emporio Rulli, the cafe with a fully Italian feel ethos, right down to the Italian staff and foods. The fig gelato had freezer burn, which did not bode well, but the rum raisin was luscious. We sat on the bench outside while an Italian jazz band played just behind us, and read the newest issue of "The Onion", which had us both uprorious. Ah, the sweet, simple moments.
Saturday started with an always soul-fulfilling four hour conversation with my Anita. Amazing how those hours seemed so brief and that we barely scratched the surface of what we wanted to say. It's amazing to reflect on her kindredship for fifteen years now. I can't say I know anyone my age who has not merely such a long lasting friendship, but one deep and profound as it ever was, with no signs of dying after many years.
After my refreshing discourse with Anita, Dan cooked us a brilliant lunch of juicy pork in our delicious Fig & Balsamic Onion sauce from Napa; moist hominy with cayenne and spices; feta and cherry tomato salad in basalmic and our olive oil from Lucca, Italy; and sweet onions Dan grilled in brown sugar. A watermelon Smirnoff Ice washed it down nicely.
The warm, lazy afternoon led to a couple hours laying out on our rooftop, reading, drinking rasberry/strawberry/mint/triplesec smoothies I made, dozing and getting browned by the sun. Eventually we came inside for a bit of lovemaking and napping. Always a lovely Saturday afternoon.
In the evening, Daniel and I took the J line over the hill to Pauline's Pizza Pie in the Mission. We ordered a half carafe of the house white, delivering a bit of gaiety to our table on this summerlike night. Not since our month in Italy over a year ago have I been able to polish off a few glasses of wine with ease. Well, mostly ease. I did get a bit ridiculous for awhile! We shared a fresh ceasar salad with 'freckled' greens, followed by pizza: half garlic, half artichoke, sage, herbs and meyer lemon oil. Hit the spot. We headed down a couple blocks to Bombay Chaat and Ice Creamerly, an Indian ice cream shop, to get a vibrant ginger and green tea ice cream combo. Yum! It was a lovely walk home up steep Church Street (the J train wasn't in sight so we knew we could walk home in ten minutes instead of waiting for it) at the twilight hour, replete with a stop atop Mission Dolores Park to gaze out at city skyline.
At 9pm, the fireworks from the KFOG Kaboom! festival went off and we ran up to our rooftop where we could (mostly) see them. It was a pure night, shining with full moon and floods of stars. The fireworks were booming and plentiful. We stood like children barefoot on the roof, thrilling to the cacophany of cannon bursts thundering throughout the city.
The evening ended with us renting the 1996 documentary, "Hype!", on the Seattle grunge scene. A Doug Pray film who did "Scratch", which we loved. That doc was much more interesting and solid than "Hype!" but the film still had its moments. I have to say it doesn't paint a particularly good view of Seattle natives. They seem arrogant, simple and dramatic in their representation of the impact of grunge, saying how much they "didn't need the hype" and were so "annoyed" by it, when you could tell they were actually quite proud of the attention it brought Seattle for a time. Still, it made me miss the hard rocking days of Nirvana, PJ, and Soundgarden. Glad I got to see Soundgarden in concert before they disbanded.
Sunday was spent at church half the day, as I mentioned earlier, with a rowdy lunch at Ali Baba's Cave (we sat on pillows on the floor in the 'cave') for a middle eastern spread. Dan and Natashia were keeping things moving with their bizzare, infectious humor and Mark and Dave plowed through absolutely giant plates of (cheap) food. We stepped next door afterwards for root beer floats at Burger Joint as Dave shared with us details of his work in carpentry and Mark reminisced about his home state of Hawaii.
We spent the evening on Sunday talking to family on the phones, Dan worked on his music, I read. It was a much needed weekend and the kind of pace I yearn to set more frequently in our "go, go, go" society which demands constant action to be of value. If we're ever going to give in to the creative in us, we need time, "endless hours of noodling and doodling", says Georgia O'Keefe, who reiterates that takes time to "see" a flower, really see it, before we can paint or photograph it.
Here's to seeing.
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