Saturday, September 29, 2007
Where to Eat in Northridge
The San Fernando Valley rivals the Westside and the Fairfax District in the deli department. In Northridge alone, there are three competing delis: Brent's, Abe's and Weiler's. Each one has its own fans.
Brents 19565 Parthenia St. Northridge (818) 886-5679
For a long time I was strictly into Brents, a local institution since 1967. They are definitely considered the frontrunner by most people. My friend insists their matzoh balls are the best, and that they are "the size of my head." Their pastrami and corned beef sandwich, pictured above, has to be eaten with a fork before it can be made small enough to fit it in your mouth. They open at 6am, and serve most menu items early. They are famous for their catering, and have just opened a location in Westlake.
Abe's 19626 Nordhoff St Northridge 91324 (818) 701-5563
Abe's is open until 11pm on Friday and Saturday nights, which is convenient. They used to be a Solley's, until Solley's twin brother Abe took over. Which makes this delivery truck an obvious prop. Their cream puffs are freakishly large, the deli guys are friendly, and their pastrami is spectacular. And who can resist free pickles while you wait? But even the people I met there said they chose Abe's because it was easy to get into on a Sunday morning.
Weiler's 9046 Balboa Boulevard Northridge 91325
818-892-8663
Lately Weiler's on the corner of Nordoff and Balboa has started to win me over. They opened in 1962, although they have changed locations. In spite of their un-deli-ish "country charm" decor, they do have some excellent pastrami and a definite neighborhood vibe. Servers greet customers by name and hardly anybody needs a menu. Plus they have these scary cookies that remind me of an unforgettable episode of Gumby:
Really, I am just into the sign. But admit it, you love mojo potatoes. 10340 Reseda Blvd, Northridge (818) 360-2151
A&W Seafood 9306 Reseda Blvd. Northridge 91324
A&W Seafood is known for its Hong Kong-style dim sum lunches. It may not be Monterey Park, but it's pretty darn good. The hostess alternates between being kind of angry and sugary-sweet, which I find a scary combination. Otherwise, the service is friendly, and the ambiance is refreshingly cool and elegant on a hot day.
Colleges always attract good, cheap eats and CSUN is no exception
Cupids 9039 Lindley Av, Northridge
Cupid's hot dogs can be a little bland, so I recommend you go heavy on the toppings. But the snap of the skin and the fat content are in perfect balance. The bun is soft and fresh, and the price can't be beat.
My Hero 9514 Reseda Blvd # 15 Northridge (818) 349-4255
I once walked into a classroom on the first day of class at CSUN and the instructor had written on the board:
How to survive CSUN:
1. Attend class
2. Study
3. My Hero
Their subs are first-rate, but the secret is the tomato salad. Even when I was vegan, I would just get a tomato salad sandwich. The Italian-style dressing is not overpoweringly vinegary, and the the crunch of the celery is just right.
Falafel Palace 9255 Reseda Blvd. Northridge (818) 993-0734
This is the place for vegans. They even have vegan baklava. But carnivores can feast on shwarma with all the trimmings, and it wouldn't kill you to have a falafel once in awhile. In fact, this is the place where even the most avowed meat-lover should have a falafel.
Mongolian King 9545 Reseda Blvd # 20 Northridge 91324 (818) 886-9711
Before every mall in the world had a Mongolian BBQ, I used to love the novelty of this place. Now I go there because the sauce is a million times better than the sauce at the place in the mall. They also have big, bread puffs that will burn the bejeesus out of your hands, so be careful.
Las Hadas 9048 Balboa Blvd Northridge 91325 (818) 892-7271
I always thought Las Hadas just looked like an an Acapulco's kind of office-lunch place until Frank Black told me it was his favorite Mexican place in Northridge. It turned out they have fantastic enchiladas and huge, dangerous margaritas that make the girls from the office tell you all of their secrets.
Bakeries
Delicious Bakery 9147 Reseda Blvd. Northridge (818) 349-5700
Delicious Bakery, hidden in the corner of the Vons parking lot is a secret, so don't tell anyone. This is where all of the delis get their baked goods. Go straight to the source and get your black-and-white cookies fresh out of the oven. Just look at the size of that hamantashen!
Weinie Bakery 9250 Reseda Blvd. (818) 886-7331
Hidden in the corner of a strip mall, the Weinie Bakery is the place for all things bao. They offer all types of Chinese buns and baked goods. Buns come will fillings like barbecued chicken, vegetarian tofu, and yes, they even have a roll with sliced hot dogs baked into it.
24-hour Party People
El Indio 17019 Roscoe Northridge (818) 765-9259
El Indio On Roscoe just west of Balboa, is a late-night mecca for cops and cars full of drunk partiers. Good tacos make for strange bedfellows. After the bars close down, the place fills with drunk guys nursing sour grapes about how the chicks who wouldn't go home with them "weren't that hot anyways." 24-hours a day, El Indio has killer carnitas tacos and the best chile relleno burritos I've ever had.
Yummy Donuts 7555 Balboa Blvd Northridge (818) 780-2204
Yummy Donuts has acceptable donuts, but the pan quesedilla is killer. So are the little twisty cream puffs. Plus they have sandwiches and ice cream. Where else can you get an ice cream cone at 4am?
Labels:
northridge
San Francisco: Thursday, Friday, and Wrap-up
People have questioned my selection of restaurants in San Francisco.
My selections were often a matter of practicality, as I was with an ever-revolving group of people, and I had a conference to attend for six out of the eight days. I spent most of my time around Union Square and the Financial District, not of my own voilition.
However, within these parameters, I did have some decisions to make. And some of them were made as a result of Bauer's The Dish on LA. I felt like Bauer was kind of a Zagat victim. Nothing against Zagat - I faithfully take their surveys and even get giddy when I recognize my quotes. But because of Zagat and that whole school of thought, he reviewed the biggest, flashiest names. He definitely did not use Counter Intelligence as his guide. Bauer's review was criticized for ignoring some of our excellent local and "ethnic" food. I hate the term "ethnic" food. All food is ethnic food to someone, but I'll save that rant for another time. I was determined not to be seduced by the hippest and most happening hotspots. So I left the Zagat Guide at home this trip.
So first, I chose the oldest restaurants I could find, the grand dames - Sears, John's Grill, and The Tadich Grill. Classics. Then I went looking off the beaten foodie path - Tommy's Restaurant, Tommy's Joynt, Blondie's. I tried to balance things out with some newer and brighter spots - Millenium, Out the Door, and the Slanted Door. Some places were sheer happenstance or serendipity. I was hungry. I turned around, and there it was. Sometimes this worked in my favor, like B Restaurant, and sometimes not so much, like with the Jazz Bistro. You win some, you lose some.
Now here we are, two days left in the city, and I am going to make the most of it...
THURSDAY
The Ferry Building
Thursday we headed down to the Ferry Building. I had been staring at its clocktower all week from afar, like a beacon of hope. I was kind of shocked when I offhandedly asked my nephew, "Hey, want to go buy some artisinal cheese?" and he actually set down the computer mouse and followed me. I guess it runs in the family. Cowgirl Creamery, the mecca of goat cheese lovers, was my first stop. I picked up their cute mixed bag (Hint: Don't buy the 60 dollar bag Giada buys on TV. The 20-dollar bag is perfectly good. You don't need a 40-dollar cheese board). Plus, I had to get their infamous Purple Haze, which is an herbed goat cheese.
Oh, Miette, with those delicate little macarons and lavender shortbread. Their pastel china just makes me want to throw a bridal shower!
And ScharfenBerger, who has rhubarb truflles and delicate little mushroom-shaped chocolates right now. And chocolate covered currants! Next time I am definitely taking the factory tour.
Slanted Door
After loading up on treats for friends back home, I wanted to try The Slanted Door. I was really just interested in going there because so many people had told me that I would never be able to get a table. Unfortunately, I am easy prey for a double-dog dare and discouragement only made me determined. And I must admit, it was slightly complicated. They stop seating in the restaurant sometime after 2. but you can still order from the full menu at the bar until 2:30. But that means you can only eat it at the bar; you cannot carry it 2 feet over to a table in "the lounge". After the full menu ends at 3pm or whenever, you can order from a limited "tea" menu at the bar and at the lounge. This complex maneuver had me ordering very quickly and seating my 15-year-old nephew at the bar.
Luckily, the bartender was friendly and recommended a beef dish. I tried to pronounce it. Xiao Tsing Beef? It was just "Shaken Beef". I also ordered crab noodles, chicken noodles, and a crepe. Like the irresponsible aunt I am, I left my nephew in the bar to watch our seats while I found my husband who was parking the car. Which in San Francisco is like one of the labours of Hercules.
This time I LOVED the servers. Both of the bartenders were extremely friendly and attentive. I was even charmed into ordering a nectarine caprihana. I noticed "unfriendly waiter" from Out the Door when he came to the bar with a drink order. He gave me that weird "I see you; but I'm ignoring you" look normally reserved for ex-boyfriends. I thought it was strange he would recognize me, because he was the one waiter who had been rude to me the week before, whereas I was only one of hundreds of customers he had probably been rude to. Later I remembered that two members of my party blatantly undertipped him. So he probably did remember me.
The "shaken beef" is made with filet mignon and is unbelievable. Unfortunately, the "chicken noodles" were not the "5-spice chicken noodles" I liked, and they were pretty greasy. My nephew reminded me, "They ARE pan-fried." Which equals greasy. The crab noodles, made with transluscent cellophane noodles contained very fresh crab, but were pretty bland. The crepe was unexpected. It was more like an interpretation of egg foo young. It was a big omelet, stuffed with a stir-fry. It was extremely greasy, and no one ate more than a tester helping. But it did come with a sweet sauce that I used to liven up the crab noodles.
The thing about The Slanted Door (and Out the Door) is that everything is hit or miss. Some of the menu selections are breathtakingly delicious. If you know what you're doing, you could have a truly memorable meal there. But choose wrong, and you will get a lumpy, greasy dish full of bland. And if you know to ask for "moustache" with the mullet, or the two cute servers from my picture at the bar, you will have an excellent time and make new friends. But if you get stuck with "unfriendly waiter" - ok, lets just say it - "bitchy waiter" you are going to have a terrible time. I would recommend going to the Ferry Building's Out the Door takeout where you don't have to deal with waiters, and just eat outside where you can look at the gorgeous bay. But don't fill up, because there is still Taylor's Refresher waiting for you.
Taylors Refresher
Of all of the low-budget restaurants I sampled, I would have to crown Taylor's king. And I am not the only one, In 2006, Taylor's received the James Beard Foundation American Classics Award. We were so sorry we had filled up on soggy noodles and had to split a hamburger. This hamburger was beyond compare. The edges were charred and the inside was juicy, bursting with greasy goodness. I will crave this burger forever and compare all other burgers to this one. I am ruined. The french fries were hot and probably double-fried to get that kind of crunch. But the thing that makes Taylor's stand out from the rest of the pack is the pistachio milkshake was rich and creamy with real ice cream, like a good vanilla shake should be. The pistachio flavor did not taste artificial in any way. It was clean and pure, like you always wished pistachio ice cream could be, without even realizing it. When I reached the bottom, there was a small pile of pistachio nuts in the cup. I asked them if anyone had ever choked on one, and the employees looked surprised and slightly frightened, like that had never occured to them before. As we walked out, everything on every table I passed looked delicious. I wanted to pick up the hot dog and fish tacos from a neighboring table and put them in my purse. I wanted everything. Taylor's turned me out.
Recchiuti
Sometimes I try things just for the adventure, knowing they are going to be awful. When I put a pink peppercorn and star anise chocolate in my mouth, I thought maybe they could pull it off, maybe it wouldn't be dreadful. It never occured to me it could be better, that it could possibly be the best chocolate I had ever tasted. Better than See's California Brickle. Better than homemade marshmallows from Eidelweiss. It was nothing short of an epiphany. I realized that I had been limited in my thinking about spices. That there were so many new possibilities! That there were new horizons of flavors to explore! I bought boxes and boxes of chocolates in order to bring this amazing flavor back, so I could tell everyone what I had discovered like a converted religious nut. My conversion was short-lived. I left the bag on the counter in the airport and when I returned they said they had to turn them in to security as a suspicious package. Security claims to have never received them, Someone is either enjoying a sugar rush right now or 100 dollars worth of gourmet treats have been detonated in a field outside of Oakland.
Chez Panisse
For my big final meal out, my brother and his wife took us to what is perhaps the epicenter of the slow food movement, and every other movement promoting fresh, local ingredients, Chez Panisse. Alice Waters is truly a pioneer, and everyone was excited about our meal as we walked up to the big craftsman. We chose to eat in the "upstairs" cafe instead of "downstairs" because "downstairs offers only a single, prix fixe meal. Mondays are usually more laid back, the meal does not offer a dessert, and runs about 55 dollars. The rest of the week the menu averages 65 to 85 dollars and features events such as an "all duck dinner". "Upstairs" in the cafe/bar, the menu offers a simpler prix fixe menu at around 28 dollars. They also offer a limited menu of around 6 salads, one appetizer, one soup, six mains and four desserts as well as a cheese plate. We prefer the cafe for last-minute meals or when dining with a group because sometimes you don't like what is being served downstairs. A few comments I have read on the internet insinuate that the cafe is inferior to "downstairs" but maybe they are just snobs.
We all enjoy trying a little bit of everything, so we chose to eat "family style." We split a Caprese salad with Wild Boar Farm tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. It is so refreshing to eat ripe tomatoes, and the light vinagrette was perfect. The garden lettuce salad was simple, but it was one of those must-have items for my brother, who is a serious devotee of their salads. We split a main as a starter - the pizza with hot and sweet peppers. Ok, Bauer, if you have been reading these blogs and wonder what any of this has to do with you, listen up - here is your payoff. You wondered why San Francisco lacks pizza like Mozza, well here is your pizza. Call Chez Panisse every night until they have this pizza. You will never bemoan the state of Bay Area pizzas again. Hot banana peppers in the mix made this pizza just hot enough to be exciting without overpowering. The cheese, of course, was farm fresh - and that crust. Seriously, this is the pizza you have been waiting for. Pray that they offer some variation regularly.
Between the six of us, we ordered two orders of "Sonoma County duck-leg with corn fritters, green beans and morels", two orders of "Grilled James Ranch lamb leg with black-eyed peas and tomatillos" and one order of "Hand-cut pasta with heirloom tomatoes, basil, and Bellwether Farm Ricotta."
To be honest, the pasta was a little bland. The texture of the hand-cut pasta was perfection, the cheese was creamy, but it just needed some kind of punch. Maybe the hot peppers on the pizza had dulled my palate too much. The duck shown in my photo is a double order on one plate, and it was fantastic. The meat was tender without a hint of gaminess, more like free-range chicken. The corn fritters were the star of the show. Man. I wanted to grab them all, but all those Sesame Street songs about "sharing" have socialized me just enough to make it through a dinner party. The lamb was also excellent, without a hint of gaminess. I can really getting into game when it is this high quality. The black-eyed peas were a homey touch, but the tomatillos seemed a little out-of-place.
We decided to split desserts - a bittersweet chocolate pave (like a broken paving stone - really, it was similar to those molten lava cakes that were all the rage, but without the lava filling) and a strawberry sherbert. We all took polite bites, but it was clear that most of us were too stuffed to deal with anything else. One person took over the chocolate, and another devoured the sorbet while the rest of us groaned. There was a slight mix-up, and we had a hard time getting our bill, which turned out to be sitting on the counter right above my head the entire time. My brother hosted, and attempted to hide the bill, but it looked like it averaged out to about 50 dollars per person. Not bad for salad, appetizer, mains, dessert and 5 glasses of wine. As we left, my brother remarked, "I love this place. I don't know why we don't come here more."
Friday
De Young Cafe
Friday we spent the day at Golden Gate park and the De Young Museum. Out of convenience, I had lunch at the museum's cafe. I have to say, museum cafes have really come into their own. The sandwich was first-rate, and the bread was just as good as all of the other bread I was served in San Francisco. This city is into bread.
And again with the fresh, local ingredients:
As part of Bon Appétit’s pioneering “Farm to Fork” program, these ingredients are grown or produced within 150 miles of the kitchen where they will be prepared. The de Young menu includes cheeses and dairy products from Point Reyes Farmstead Cheese Company, Straus Family Creamery, and Cowgirl Creamery; breads from Berkeley’s Acme Bakery...
On Friday evenings, when the De Young holds special community events, the cafe offers a dinner menu. During the summer, they are offering a Cinema Supper Club, showing films featuring famous artists.
Contrary to what my favorite angled photo technique suggests, the cafe is not actually located on a boat that is weathering a storm.
Monette's
I would never be such an ungrateful houseguest as to leave out the fantastic meal prepared for us by my sister-in-law Monette on Friday night. My entire family can cook, from my mom all the way down to my youngest nephews, who have "Iron Chef" competitions at home for fun. We all have our specialties, but no one can set a beautiful table like Monette. I have always envied her ability to take a few sprigs of Chervil and make a dish look like it should be on the front cover of Gourmet. She barbecued steaks and albacore tuna, and made gorgeous salads with haricot vertes and a delicious cherry tomato caprese. I didn't help matters by stuffing her full of Cowgirl goat cheese and champagne before dinner. But it was truly one of the best meals I was served, and a lovely way to end the trip. Plus, Monette works for Sephora and I got her tipsy enough to let me rifle through her samples box! Score!
Final Thoughts
To make any kind of pronouncement, I feel like I would need another month in San Francisco. There were so many places I didn't have a chance to try - Herbivore, Tu Lan, Swan's Oyster Depot, Little Joe's. I didn't even touch Chinatown or the Mission District. But after barely dipping my toes in the bay, I have to say I was was impressed with the value San Francisco places on food. It is the kind of dedication that made me fall in love with New Orleans.
I was particularly impressed by San Francisco's dedication to preservation. The number of classic restaurants still standing was a welcome surprise. In an era when newer is better, it is heartwarming to see history respected. From the Tadich Grill, the oldest restaurant in San Francisco, to Chez Panisse, a place of quality is never "over".
In the tradition of Chez Panisse, emphasis is placed on quality ingredients. In even the cheapest hole-in-the-wall, tomatoes were red, lettuces were crisp, and I was never served a single slice of bread that did not taste fresh and homemade.
There also seems to be much more of a focus placed on beer and wine as opposed to LA's ever-present cocktails. Smaller-label organic wines and interesting microbrews were readily available. A larger selection of wines are offered by the glass, and it seems like less of a formalized ritual. Only one restaurant offered to send over a sommelier and it was with that same half-serious tone that TV cops use when they offer to send in a lawyer. The only time I even drank a cocktail was in the Slanted Door, and only because I was sitting at the bar.
From the simplest taqueria to white tablecloth dining, there is a sense of continuity; every restaurant seems to feel a connection to the San Francisco's history. From the restaurants of San Francisco's past, one can follow the lineage eventually into the Educated Palate. You can see the pride in the instructor's eyes, and the smiles on her student's faces. In their classroom restaurant, they strive to provide the same high level of service one finds at Tadich's Grill. They serve only the freshest ingredients, as Alice Waters would have them do. They are here to provide the continuity that will link San Francisco's treasured past with its future.
Labels:
San Francisco,
Slanted Door,
Taylor's Refresher
Thursday, September 6, 2007
San Francisco Tuesday and Wednesday
The Educated Palate
Amongst all the restaurant talk at the conference, I did pick up one invaluable tip (Thanks Francine!). Across the street from the conference, the city college's cooking school ran a restaurant called the Educated Palate. I was told they had an incredible lamb sandwich. It was good timing, since the restaurant was preparing to close for a 2-week semester break (They will re-open August 23rd).
We managed to make their last lunch service. Everyone ordered sandwiches, but I thought I would be risky and went for a Moroccan chicken dish. It turned out to be a large filo-encased mixture of ground chicken and spices with a tomato concasse. It was kind of intense, and probably would have been better in a smaller, appetizer portion. But the flavors were well-balanced and the filo was perfect.
I split my chicken dish with a friend in exchange for half of her lamb sandwich. Lamb is often too gamey for me. The only lamb I have ever really enjoyed was in Guy Savoy's Bouquenistas in Paris. This lamb was as good as, or may have even surpassed Guy Savoy's. That is pretty fantastic for a cooking school; I dare the CIA to take them on. Fresh mozzarella took this sandwich over the top. I can't recommend the Educated Palate highly enough. When we asked for separate checks, they even split the bottled Pelligrino three ways, and the dessert four ways on our bills. I have never had a restaurant do that before.
The friendly instructor, Barbara Haimes, not only allowed me to photograph her restaurant, but proudly gathered her class together for a photograph. She had a mixture of competence and kindness that can turn all business when needed, qualities I recognized from some of my favorite instructors. She immediately asked me about Mozza, so I knew she was up-to-date, and when I mentioned Bauer's article, she was extremely diplomatic.
Later that evening I stopped in at Parc 55's Siam Thai to grab take-out for the hotel room. It was not very memorable, and I didn't even photograph it. But my room-mates had brought me back a piece of chocolate cake that was outstanding. As vegans love doing, they waited until after I had eaten it to announce to me that it was a product of sneaky vegan sleight-of-hand. Judging from the cake alone, I'm sorry I missed joining them for dinner at Herbivore.
Wednesday
B Restaurant and Bar
Wednesday marked the end of the conference, and my husband picked me up to visit MOAD (Museum of African Diaspora) and YBCA (Yerba Buena Center for the Arts). On my previous walks through the park, I could see Samovar above the waterfall and it had piqued my interest. I meant to go there, but we accidentally stumbled upon B Restaurant and Bar. What serendipity! The room was uncrowded and open, almost like a continuation of the park. High windows made it feel airy and light. It was elegent, yet comfortable. Thus far, I had experienced competent service, friendly service, and unfriendly service, but B Restaurant and Bar was the first time that I fell in love with my waiter. I stood up to wash my hands at the exact moment he arrived with our drinks, and instead of bumping into me, he smoothly slid an arm around me to help me up, and we ended up standing together arm in arm as if we were dates at a party. Grant Goodrich (He even has a good, strong, name) was so comfortable with us, chatting about the menu, and generally treating us as if we were guests in his home. He was without question my favorite waiter.
Luckily, chef Aaron Webb was equally skilled in the kitchen (Although he did not come out to hug me). I was in the mood for hamburger and he delivered. The grilled Angus was cooked to my liking, and the tomato was actually red - a gorgeous ruby red. I realized I have never been served a perfectly ripe tomato on a hamburger before. What? Was I raised in a cave? Perhaps it was not quite as dramatic as the moment in the Wizard of Oz where everything turns technicolor, but this organic, sustainable, locally grown thing has really got something to it. The catfish brandade was kind of deconstructed, with the seared catfish steak served over what I assume to be potatoes brandade, whipped with the garlic and cream. We weren't exactly sure what it was, but it was rich and delicious and our only complaint was that we wanted a bigger portion. The dessert, a layered chocolate cake with a Black Forest spin arrived with a small carafe of icing, but I found myself wishing for something lighter, like whipped cream.
I kept their menu as a memento, and just reading it makes me want to rush back : Baked crab ratatouille, Saffron risotto with seared dayboat scallops, grilled torpedo onions and riccolla. Riccolla! OK, you got me. It is not in any of my culinary dictionaries. Internet searches keep bringing up The Divine Comedy. What the hell is riccolla? And Tofu Bucco? Like Osso Bucco? Really? How in the hell do you pull that off? Bring it on! Pour me a lime rickey and let's go to town.
YBCA:
Tadich Grill
The Tadich Grill is the oldest restaurant in San Francisco. Sure, it's changed names and moved around a few times (who hasn't?). It's been in the same family since 1913. The tag "The Original Cold Day Restaurant" is not because of the hot coffee and hearty soups, but from the ballsy slogan of a failed politician back in 1882. This place has serious history. And a serious following. A long bar runs the length of one side of the restaurant, and everyone obediently lines up against the wall for the anticipated 45-minute wait for a table. I run upstairs to wash up, then take a leisurely stroll around the restaurant, and who should I run into but Marian and Vivian, "The Twins."
The next thing you know, I'm sitting at their table and they are regaling me with stories about their lives in the midwest, warning me against marriage and giving me lots of vague advice with finger-waggling emphasis, like, "Only you can sink your own ship." When our table is finally ready, my husband is not in the least bit surprised to find me sitting with someone else, not after he sees the twins.
Once we had our table, service was swift and super-efficient. Our waiter, who had a heavy accent of indeterminate origin, managed to keep things humming without rushing us at all. I was jealous of the diners who had the luck and large enough groups to sit in the old-fashioned cubicle-like wooden booths. I usually only see those in Chinatown. I started with a crab cocktail, as clean and refreshing as any other. The cocktail sauce was mild, with no discernible trace of horseradish. By the time I finished the crab cocktail, my soup had been sitting at my elbow for about five minutes. The waiter offered to bring me a fresh bowl. When I finally figured out what he was saying, I was so impressed with him that I touched his arm tenderly, which probably freaked him out a little. The clam chowder was exactly what I was looking for - the quintissential flavors of San Francisco.
Although I knew it was madness, I couldn't stop myself and ordered the cioppino. Soup with soup. The waiter raised an eyebrow, but put the order in. I always remember my brother Greg's story about the Italian fishermen sharing a communal pot and telling each other "chip-in" "chip-in-oh" The Italian accent was so bad, it took me a long time to finally believe there was any truth to that legend. My cioppino arrived with a big hunk of garlic bread for dipping. The fish was rich with the taste of the sea, and the shrimp and scallops were delicate. On my third course, not including the sourdough bread, there was no way I could finish it. But I did manage to pick out the best chunks.
When we arrived back at my brother's for the night, he asked how dinner was. "Did you have clam chowder?"
"Yes."
"Was your waiter from somewhere mysterious, like Croatia?"
"Yes."
"And you met The Twins?"
(To be continued...)
Educated Palate 88 4th Street SF 94103 (415) 267-6512
B Restaurant and Bar 720 Howard St SF 94107 (415) 495-9800
Tadich Grill 240 California Street SF (415) 391-1849
Amongst all the restaurant talk at the conference, I did pick up one invaluable tip (Thanks Francine!). Across the street from the conference, the city college's cooking school ran a restaurant called the Educated Palate. I was told they had an incredible lamb sandwich. It was good timing, since the restaurant was preparing to close for a 2-week semester break (They will re-open August 23rd).
We managed to make their last lunch service. Everyone ordered sandwiches, but I thought I would be risky and went for a Moroccan chicken dish. It turned out to be a large filo-encased mixture of ground chicken and spices with a tomato concasse. It was kind of intense, and probably would have been better in a smaller, appetizer portion. But the flavors were well-balanced and the filo was perfect.
I split my chicken dish with a friend in exchange for half of her lamb sandwich. Lamb is often too gamey for me. The only lamb I have ever really enjoyed was in Guy Savoy's Bouquenistas in Paris. This lamb was as good as, or may have even surpassed Guy Savoy's. That is pretty fantastic for a cooking school; I dare the CIA to take them on. Fresh mozzarella took this sandwich over the top. I can't recommend the Educated Palate highly enough. When we asked for separate checks, they even split the bottled Pelligrino three ways, and the dessert four ways on our bills. I have never had a restaurant do that before.
The friendly instructor, Barbara Haimes, not only allowed me to photograph her restaurant, but proudly gathered her class together for a photograph. She had a mixture of competence and kindness that can turn all business when needed, qualities I recognized from some of my favorite instructors. She immediately asked me about Mozza, so I knew she was up-to-date, and when I mentioned Bauer's article, she was extremely diplomatic.
Later that evening I stopped in at Parc 55's Siam Thai to grab take-out for the hotel room. It was not very memorable, and I didn't even photograph it. But my room-mates had brought me back a piece of chocolate cake that was outstanding. As vegans love doing, they waited until after I had eaten it to announce to me that it was a product of sneaky vegan sleight-of-hand. Judging from the cake alone, I'm sorry I missed joining them for dinner at Herbivore.
Wednesday
B Restaurant and Bar
Wednesday marked the end of the conference, and my husband picked me up to visit MOAD (Museum of African Diaspora) and YBCA (Yerba Buena Center for the Arts). On my previous walks through the park, I could see Samovar above the waterfall and it had piqued my interest. I meant to go there, but we accidentally stumbled upon B Restaurant and Bar. What serendipity! The room was uncrowded and open, almost like a continuation of the park. High windows made it feel airy and light. It was elegent, yet comfortable. Thus far, I had experienced competent service, friendly service, and unfriendly service, but B Restaurant and Bar was the first time that I fell in love with my waiter. I stood up to wash my hands at the exact moment he arrived with our drinks, and instead of bumping into me, he smoothly slid an arm around me to help me up, and we ended up standing together arm in arm as if we were dates at a party. Grant Goodrich (He even has a good, strong, name) was so comfortable with us, chatting about the menu, and generally treating us as if we were guests in his home. He was without question my favorite waiter.
Luckily, chef Aaron Webb was equally skilled in the kitchen (Although he did not come out to hug me). I was in the mood for hamburger and he delivered. The grilled Angus was cooked to my liking, and the tomato was actually red - a gorgeous ruby red. I realized I have never been served a perfectly ripe tomato on a hamburger before. What? Was I raised in a cave? Perhaps it was not quite as dramatic as the moment in the Wizard of Oz where everything turns technicolor, but this organic, sustainable, locally grown thing has really got something to it. The catfish brandade was kind of deconstructed, with the seared catfish steak served over what I assume to be potatoes brandade, whipped with the garlic and cream. We weren't exactly sure what it was, but it was rich and delicious and our only complaint was that we wanted a bigger portion. The dessert, a layered chocolate cake with a Black Forest spin arrived with a small carafe of icing, but I found myself wishing for something lighter, like whipped cream.
I kept their menu as a memento, and just reading it makes me want to rush back : Baked crab ratatouille, Saffron risotto with seared dayboat scallops, grilled torpedo onions and riccolla. Riccolla! OK, you got me. It is not in any of my culinary dictionaries. Internet searches keep bringing up The Divine Comedy. What the hell is riccolla? And Tofu Bucco? Like Osso Bucco? Really? How in the hell do you pull that off? Bring it on! Pour me a lime rickey and let's go to town.
YBCA:
Tadich Grill
The Tadich Grill is the oldest restaurant in San Francisco. Sure, it's changed names and moved around a few times (who hasn't?). It's been in the same family since 1913. The tag "The Original Cold Day Restaurant" is not because of the hot coffee and hearty soups, but from the ballsy slogan of a failed politician back in 1882. This place has serious history. And a serious following. A long bar runs the length of one side of the restaurant, and everyone obediently lines up against the wall for the anticipated 45-minute wait for a table. I run upstairs to wash up, then take a leisurely stroll around the restaurant, and who should I run into but Marian and Vivian, "The Twins."
The next thing you know, I'm sitting at their table and they are regaling me with stories about their lives in the midwest, warning me against marriage and giving me lots of vague advice with finger-waggling emphasis, like, "Only you can sink your own ship." When our table is finally ready, my husband is not in the least bit surprised to find me sitting with someone else, not after he sees the twins.
Once we had our table, service was swift and super-efficient. Our waiter, who had a heavy accent of indeterminate origin, managed to keep things humming without rushing us at all. I was jealous of the diners who had the luck and large enough groups to sit in the old-fashioned cubicle-like wooden booths. I usually only see those in Chinatown. I started with a crab cocktail, as clean and refreshing as any other. The cocktail sauce was mild, with no discernible trace of horseradish. By the time I finished the crab cocktail, my soup had been sitting at my elbow for about five minutes. The waiter offered to bring me a fresh bowl. When I finally figured out what he was saying, I was so impressed with him that I touched his arm tenderly, which probably freaked him out a little. The clam chowder was exactly what I was looking for - the quintissential flavors of San Francisco.
Although I knew it was madness, I couldn't stop myself and ordered the cioppino. Soup with soup. The waiter raised an eyebrow, but put the order in. I always remember my brother Greg's story about the Italian fishermen sharing a communal pot and telling each other "chip-in" "chip-in-oh" The Italian accent was so bad, it took me a long time to finally believe there was any truth to that legend. My cioppino arrived with a big hunk of garlic bread for dipping. The fish was rich with the taste of the sea, and the shrimp and scallops were delicate. On my third course, not including the sourdough bread, there was no way I could finish it. But I did manage to pick out the best chunks.
When we arrived back at my brother's for the night, he asked how dinner was. "Did you have clam chowder?"
"Yes."
"Was your waiter from somewhere mysterious, like Croatia?"
"Yes."
"And you met The Twins?"
(To be continued...)
Educated Palate 88 4th Street SF 94103 (415) 267-6512
B Restaurant and Bar 720 Howard St SF 94107 (415) 495-9800
Tadich Grill 240 California Street SF (415) 391-1849
Labels:
San Francisco,
Tadich Grill
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