Gastronomie

Seven Hours in Memphis

I know I sometimes have a warped view of my world... For example, for the past several years, I've flown over 100K miles per year on United, which has bestowed upon me the status of "Premier Executive 1K". Which basically means I'm that schmuck you hate as you're boarding, who's usually seated in Business Class with a glazed look in her eyes, trying to remember which city she's heading to next.

There are, of course, some nice perks to this program -- the aforementioned upgrades usually clear, I get treated pretty well if there are irregular operations (e.g., weather, equipment problems, etc), and... and... OK, maybe that's mostly it.

But the thing is, once you get used to the perks, it's really hard to think about going back to a lower level of status. Like I said, a warped view.

What does this all have to do with Memphis? Well, United was running a double-miles promotion, and I've always wanted to eat at C's favorite barbeque joint, the Bar-B-Que Shop, so on a total whim, we booked a ticket that would put us on the ground in Memphis for almost exactly seven hours.

It was an exhausting journey (we were in the same clothes for exactly 28 hours), totally indulgent (three meals in 5 hours), and totally invigorating. It was one of those days that leaves you marveling at how amazing the world we live in is, and was a reminder to throw caution to the wind and take life by the balls sometimes.

 

Tags: Food, Food & Drink, BBQ, Beer,Photography,United,Travel,Memphis,Oakland,San Francisco

A Brooklyn Afternoon, Gastronomie-style

I have this friend. We'll call her "Angela".

I met Ang 10 years ago, when we were both too mature for the group of friends we were hanging out with, but we'd sadly lost touch for most of the last seven years.  Enter MySpace (yes, I succumbed), and a few exchanged emails, and a ridiculously fun weekend before New Years, when she was visiting her brother who lives here in San Francisco.

Angela lives in NYC, you see -- Williamsburg to be exact -- and on New Years Day, when we said goodbye, it was knowing that we'd rekindled a friendship that fizzled all too early many years ago.

Suffice it to say that when we hit up New York this last time, it was a given that we'd go to Ang's 'hood to get a taste of what's going on in Brooklyn. And a tasty sojourn it was, my friends. As we left her apartment, she told us that she was taking us for a brunch the likes of which she'd only otherwise had in San Francisco.

Roebling Tea Room is a wonderful space, light-filled and high-ceilinged, with an imposing tea bar in the center of the room. While service was a bit spacey, the food was all stellar, including The Eggs. I don't like eggy things, and yet, I was so enamored of Roebling's Baked Cheddar Eggs with Fennel-Raisin Toast & Grits ($9) that I've tried to recreate them at home no fewer than three times since I've been back. That dish might actually inspire me to start, you know, BAKING. Because the thing is, I can't find FENNEL-RAISIN BREAD anywhere. Acme? Arizmendi? Della Fattoria? Are you listening???

From Roebling's, we headed towards the waterfront as Angela shared the neighborhood's history, from the Greenpoint oil spill to the indie music and art scene flourishing there today. We stumbled upon a corner bar, what might be considered the epitome of a neighborhood dive, and popped in for pints of Stella Artois and Guinness. Ang decided we needed some coffee next, so we headed back towards her house, stopping at a tiny little coffee shop with a MacBook at every seat, where she and C were delivered a pair of bittersweet mochas by a stunning Nuyorican diva.

As we came to the corner where we were to turn right towards Ang's apartment, my nose picked up the smell of barbeque smoke. I turned to C and said, "Do you smell that"? The look on his face told me he did. Fearing for her life, Angela revealed that Brooklyn's best barbeque was ON THIS VERY BLOCK. And so, we found ourselves at...

...Fette Sau*, or Memphis Minnie's Long Distance Lover. Look, I don't got to 'que joints for vegetables, and neither should you. So do I care that the too frou-frou sides are too expensive? No. And does it bug me that their sauces are merely OK? Well, alright, this one bugs me a little bit, but keep reading and you'll see why it's forgiven.

We ordered a sampling of three different cuts (~$15 for 1lb of meat) to share, since we had a dinner planned at Aquavit in two short hours. But I can tell you honestly that the meat here? It is so incredibly well-smoked, so moist and juicy and tinged with beautiful pinky goodness that I didn't WANT anything to interfere with my enjoyment of the bovine and porcine bits.  Except maybe one of those, oh, FIFTY OPTIONS for Bourbon. Because these people? They clearly know that nothing goes with barbeque like Bourbon.

Of course, you know the Gastro-crew, and you know that we didn't put on ten pounds between us by the end of  long weekend by stopping there.

One of Angela's neighbors owns a precious bakery called Cheeks, and she'd been raving about their Espresso & Fleur de Sel Cookie ($2) since we shared a fleur de sel caramel in San Francisco. It was incredible. Layers and layers of flavor, chewy, satisfying. Delicious. Of course, C's chocolate chip cookie was gone fast enough that I got only a tiny nibble. I'm totally enamored of this cutie-patootie little place, and C shouldn't be surprised if his birthday cake this year is a Red Velvet from Cheeks.

*Pay no attention to the tools who give this place fewer than four starts on Yelp. Seriously, one of these morons actually says that the "pork belly was a tad bit fatty". No shit, Sherlock. Please go back to your flavorless, fatless meat product dinner and leave the rest of us your portion of deliciously fatty bacon.

Tags: New York, Brooklyn, Williamsburg, Fette Sau, Roebling Tea Room, Brunch, Barbeque, San Francisco, Food & Drink

Momofuku Ssam Bar, New York

This trip to NYC has been filled with surprises both gastronomical and otherwise. I caught up with an old college friend who I hadn't seen in over a decade, took C to McSorley's where we got unexpectedly soused mid-afternoon to celebrate my thirty-something birthday and paid a visit to a friend in Williamsburg where we went on an eating and drinking tour of her neighborhood (that's its own post, to come soon).

We basically came to the city this time without a single reservation anywhere. We planned to eat fairly inexpensively, and without any pre-planning. Sometimes that meant a slice at Ray's pizza whenever we felt hungry, other times that meant grabbing a last-minute reservation at Destino.

On Saturday night, we showed up at Momofuku around 10pm. I'd heard plenty about this place from friends and fellow-bloggers alike, so I figured that even that late, we'd have a solid wait. You can only imagine the shock when we were seated immediately (I attribute it to Colin's tragically hip fedora, but that's another post).

The menu here is super-eclectic (I'd link to it, except the damn site is built in 100% Flash, which means no individual pages), and we didn't have any trouble finding things we wanted to try. In fact, the bigger problem was narrowing down our choices to a manageable number.

They were out of two items from the Raw Bar we'd hoped to try (Maine Sear Urchin and Empress Jonah Crab Claws), so we started with Cured Hamachi ($16), a delightful presentation of six slices buttery fish with a wasabi cream, a few edamame and a handful of pea shoots.

We also ordered the Steamed Buns ($9) to share -- we'd heard these were the house specialty and OH MY, I understand why! Pork belly, hoisin, chewy/fluffy bun... wow. I just have nothing else to say about these.

We moved from there to the Four Story Hill Farm Chicken Ballotine ($15), a boneless disk of chicken, stuffed with chicken, mushrooms and walnuts, topped with raisins and a sweet preserve. This was not my favorite dish, as it was a bit heavier than I expected, but tasty nonetheless.

Now, Ssam Bar has an odd section on the menu called "Country Hams", which is exactly what you think -- four different American country-style hams, sliced paper thin and served with bread and a bit of delicious sweet-hot mustard. I'm not sure how this fits in with the otherwise Korean-centric menu, and I was a little disappointed that a "sampling" wasn't available. Regardless, we ordered the Benton's Smoky Mountain,  Tennessee ($10). Very salty, delicate smoke, slightly gamey, we really enjoyed this ham.

We ordered one large dish to share -- Spicy Pork Sausage & Rice Cakes ($18) -- which was phenomenal. Bite-sized nuggets of caramelized rice, sausage, crispy shallots and Chinese broccoli were swimming in a rich, lip-numbingly spicy broth.  My Auslese riesling and Colin's unfiltered sake were both sweet enough to foil the heat of the stew.

I was stuffed, but C had to order the Amish Cheddar Shortcake ($9). The shortcake itself was amazing, unique. Paired with roasted Empire Apples and Ham Cream (yes, you read right), though, it became an updated, modern version of apple pie with cheddar cheese. That's never been my thing, but this dessert was an amalgamation of flavors that just got my tongue excited.

We loved the service, and we loved the openness of the restaurant. And maybe more than anything, we loved the fact that the following sentence was printed on the menu: "We do not serve vegetarian friendly items". While I'm sure that sentence pisses off a lot of patrons, we kind of love the fact that chef Chang is unapologetic about his menu and his choices.

Momofuku Ssam Bar
207 2nd Avenue, New York
212.254.3500

Tags: Food, Food & Drink, New York, San Francisco, Momofuku, David Chang, Restaurant Review

I'm So Confused About Las Vegas

When I was a kid, Las Vegas was a place you took the family. There were shows, and animals and things for both the kids and the adults to do. Plus, it was pretty inexpensive to bring a family here for a weekend -- even the nicest hotels were reasonably priced, and because the casinos wanted you to stay on premises, they offered decent food for cheap (remember the $2.99 breakfast buffet??).

What happened here?

I've been in Vegas for a few days for a business conference, and I am absolutely floored at how expensive it has become. At Mandalay Bay, a small bowl of pasta salad with mozzarella and basil and an iced tea set me back $13. A cup of coffee and a pastry at Starbucks? $8.50.

I know that food, and celebrichefs, have become a part of the Vegas experience, and I certainly understand the prices at restaurants like Aureole (phenomenally amazing, and absolutely worth it!) and Mix. But come on, a simple pasta salad? Even the "cafes" and buffets are incredibly expensive.

How does a family of four come here for a "weekend getaway"?

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Restaurants, NCDM

Falling a Little Bit in Love with Florence

Rome? It was awe-inspiring, the way things that are 3,000 years old can be. And it was beautiful in its own ancient way. And Romans? Well, they're just beautiful, and beautifully put-together.

But Firenze... well, that's just another world entirely. Just as we refer to someone with myriad talents as a "Renaissance man/woman", so is Florence a Renaissance city. THE Renaissance city, if you will.

She is by turns religious and pagan, a dichotomy of broad brush strokes and fine pencil etchings, she's the San Francisco to Rome's New York -  a little more out there, but still refined.

I loved Florence. Can you tell?

So. Let's move on to the food, shall we?

A view from Cortona, Italy

Over the next couple of weeks, I'll be posting photos and reminiscences of my trip to Italy. While I was definitely ready to be back home, and sleeping in my own bed, I had an incredible time -- I met some amazing people, saw things that awed me like nothing I've seen before, and ate food that I suspect I'll be able to "taste" for years.

The first set of photos I wanted to share are of Cortona, a beautiful little hillside town in Tuscany that we called "home base" for five of our days in Italy. Cortona may be most well-known as the setting for that gagalicious chick-flick "Under the Tuscan Sun", but it's so much more than that. It's the seat of Etruscan civilization in Italy, and the place St. Francis of Assisi chose to spend his final days.

It's vineyards and olive groves, umber-colored buildings set against verdant hillsides and slate gray roads -- all leading to Rome. I'll post some photos of the villa we stayed at soon, but to start, I wanted you to see the town as we saw it when we drove around with our friend Coky, a native of Cortona.

Food here is simple... and wonderful. Wild boar (cinghiale) dominates, from ragu to salumi. And beef here -- it's Chianina as it is in most parts of Tuscany -- is the most amazing beef I've ever eaten. Kobe is for pussies -- real men eat beef that's so rich it tastes like organ meat. (I'm salivating as I write this).

Most often, we paired our meals with local wines. As you might expect, they do a lovely job with Sangiovese, but we discovered that Cortona also grows a mean Syrah. Gamy and spicy and a little bit barny, these Syrahs were perfect with the traditional dishes of Cortona.

My two greatest culinary discoveries in Cortona, though, have to be Amaro di Miele, a liqueur made from wildflower/orange blossom honey, and the perfect simplicity of crostini al olio. More on each of these on Wednesday!

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Italy, Tuscany, Cortona, Photos

Fruity Pebbles Cake... at the BILTMORE Estate???

No, I'm just kidding. Well, kind of.

See, we had an appointment to meet the lovely Bernard DeLille, winemaker at the Biltmore Estate, and we'd planned to have lunch there beforehand with someone from their marketing office. But between still being stuffed from our epic meal at Table the night before, and having been completely swept up in the magic of the River Arts District, we showed up 45 minutes late and without much room in our bellies for a sit-down lunch.

So Jean took us over to their cafe, where we enjoyed some tasty sandwiches over a history lesson about the Vanderbilt family, the Estate, the farms and so on.

[Side note: 250 rooms, people. Forty-three bedrooms. For three full-time residents and around 15 full-time staff. An indoor swimming pool, a regulation bowling alley, a massive oak dining table seating 64. And don't get me started on the work rooms on the lower level: two canning pantries,  servants' dining and sitting rooms -- both nicer than mine at home --  and... wait for it... a DYEING ROOM. Yes, that's right. They had a whole laundry room dedicated to dyeing fabrics that had begun to fade. Or whatever.]

Anyway. We're lingering over our now-empty plates, and Colin decides he needs a little sweet treat. And dontcha know he saw some cookies in the cafe that looked rather tasty, so he hopped in there to pick one up. And in the process, he spies something of a celebration going on behind the counter.

Miraculously, the syrupy drawl comes back, and he's winkin' and flirtin' with these ladies who are just instantly smitten with him.

"Aw, it's a birthday, darlin'. We're havin' us some Fruity Pebble cake - Doreen baked it."

"You mean you ain't never tried Fruity Pebble cake? Well, child, come on over here and get a slice. It's a proper Southern tradition!"

And I must say, the thing sure as hell tasted like a bowl of sweet, tart Fruity Pebbles. The problem now, of course, is that someone keeps dropping hints about how much they loved that cake. My BFF (Google, duh) and I have worn ourselves out trying to find the origins or a recipe, to no avail.

So, good people of the interwebs, tell me: have YOU ever had or heard of Fruity Pebble(s) Cake? Did your great aunt, grandma or gay manny hand you down a well-worn recipe card? If so, would you like to share? Post a comment, or send me an email... we'll tell you how it turns out in the hands of a pair of West Coast heathens.

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Asheville, North Carolina, Biltmore

3 Days in Asheville...

What could I tell you about Asheville, North Carolina that would do it justice?

I could mention the 854 photographs that Colin* took.

Or I could tell you that a certain chef with a very bright future in the Bay Area moved on a whim when his wife BOUGHT THEM A HOUSE there on vacation. Without him.

I could speak volumes about my difficulty in starting this post, and finally realizing that it needs to be a series to really express  my little infatuation with this town.

Look, I know I couldn't really live there. It's still a town where young people (albeit heavily inked and pierced young people) settle down to have their families, and we all know that I don't want bebes. And it's still awfully close to the Deep South, a place where people with names like "Fatemeh"stand out like... well, for lack of a better term, giant bulls-eyes.

But that Asheville... there is something very special going on there.

A "vibe" that keeps the energy flowing well into the night, whether you're strolling down the main drag in the center of town or parked on a barstool near the Grove Arcade with a sampler of local beers in front of you.

Artists who capture your heart and take your breath away, simply by creating Japanese maple leaves out of nothing more that a small square of iron, a hot oven, and their life force.

Chefs who speak with passion about the farmer's they talk to every week, and farmers who swear by their relationships with those chefs. And their love of southern food -- biscuits and gravy with homemade sausage, pineapple upside-down cake, and anything made with cornmeal.

As you can tell, I've got lots to say about Asheville. So why haven't I written sooner, you ask?

Well, it turns out I've got this thing called a conscience. And there's a rather large part of me that has felt truly odd writing glowing reviews about a place that I spent only a small bit of my own money to visit.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that the whole point of this exercise was to explore a place I hadn't seen, had hardly heard of, in fact. And why SHOULDN'T I open up my experience to you? I would have written about the poorer aspects of our visit, too, if there'd been any. It just so happens that these people and this place are so damn friendly, and so damn pleasant, and so hospitable** that there was honestly nothing to complain about.

(Except maybe the Aveo. Really, Chevy? Did you have to put a golf cart engine into this thing?).

So, yea, I've got a couple of posts coming about Asheville. And then some catch up posts about Vail and the Farmer's Market, plus a couple of snarky tidbits from the food (and elsewhere) news pages.

*Yes, Colin is the mysterious "C". I finally got him to agree that you stalkers out there would find him out soon enough, especially since his (stellar and stunning) landscape photography may soon be featured in a few places out there in the interwebs.

** You don't know from hospitable until you've been offered a slice of Fruity Pebbles birthday cake by a sweet-as-molasses cafe worker on -- get this -- the Biltmore Estate. Colin's drawl comes in handy after all.

Tags: Travel, Arts, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Asheville, North Carolina, Blogs

High Points From Vancouver

• Vancouver is a city that truly understands and respects sustainability for the sake of itself, and not because it's chic. I fell in love with the place when we went to Granville Island, potentially the most touristy spot in the city, and found the following dumpster:
  

  

Silly? I don't think so. Truth is, I wish there was a composting bin at the Ferry Building. Hell, maybe there is, but they aren't all over the place like they are here, making it easy for the farmers to pitch in at their convenience. Oh, and also? There's a stall at the Granville Island Public Market which serves up the tastiest Cornish Pasties this side of the Atlantic.

• Lumiere, Rob Feenie's restaurant in Vancouver, has not been getting amazing reviews for naught. So far this year, it is the best meal we've had, including phenomenal wine pairings. Standout dishes?

• White & Green Asparagus with morel blanquette and a poached organic free range egg
• Kaffir Lime-poached Halibut with Local Spot Prawn and Coconut Curry Broth
• Le Plateau de Fromages.  - Know why? Because the Canadians aren't neurotic about unpasteurized soft cheeses. Which means that we ate REAL EPOISSES. Which stank so good, you don't even know.

• Omakase at Tojo's... C's been here a number of times, but since his last visit, Tojo's has moved to a much larger space with some 12 or so seats at the Omakase Bar.  This was an AWESOME meal, with a ridiculously entertaining chef, but with ultimately less raw fish than you might expect if you read the online reviews.
  • This is a great place for uni (sea urchin). It was fresh, flavorful, and of perfect texture
  • Make friends with Tojo-san, pour him (and his sous-chef, to whom he refers as the "second best sushi chef in the world") a couple glasses of sake, and you'll be treated like royalty.
  • See number 2, and hope that he pulls out the big tub of home-marinated seaweed in dashi. If you're lucky, he might scoop some into a shot glass, then top that with an oyster and mountain potato puree. When you do it as a shot, you'll understand the very meaning of umami. You'll bow to the brilliance of the whole damn thing.
  • When Tojo realizes that you have a hollow leg (and that you might eat him out of house and home), he'll mention that a particular dish is "a great way to end your meal". You might think this rude, until you realize just how much you've eaten for your fixed price meal. But, he won't leave you hanging. That last dish might be an unbelievable big-eye tuna loin, wrapped in seaweed with a light dusting of panko flour, and deep-friend until the center is still perfectly rare but warm. You might not think this is possible until you've eaten it. It is, and it's maybe the second-best use of a deep fryer in the world. (For the record, the first would be fried chicken. Which I did NOT eat in Vancouver. Duh).

• As you're walking covetously towards Cartier on Howe Street, you might realize that you're really hungry. And that they don't open until 10am (hopefully, you won't wonder why you're thinking about bling this early in the day).
  
  So you might ask around, and be directed towards Scoozi's, an itsy-bitsy joint for the office crowd downtown. Grab a seat at an outside table and enjoy a cup of coffee with steamed milk (served tableside to your taste) while you wait for your breakfast.
  
  When Michael tells you they're well-known for their yogurt, you'll believe him and tuck into a bowl of the best -- and I mean better than fresh Persian -- yogurt with fresh seasonal fruit drizzled with local British Columbian honey.
  

  

  And then? Then you might order a breakfast pizza, with a deeeeeelish cornmeal crust, lusciously moist ham, pesto-scrambled eggs, tomatoes and mozzarella cheese. You might stab your husfriend as he grabs for a nibble beyond his sanctioned slice.
  

  

The other thing that I realize as I go through the pictures of our Vancouver trip is that the skyline somehow reminds me of Tehran's. I wonder if that isn't part of the reason it feels so close to home for me. I'm really not exaggerating, you see, when I say that I would move here in a heartbeat, given the chance.

And also? If I could take a moment to get all schmoopy-poopy-sappy on you?

I have this uncle. He's maybe my favorite person in the whole world. I adore him in ways that make me cry when I think of him, because I didn't see him for 20 years before this weekend. I hadn't ever met his wife or his son -- people who, sight unseen, were were as dear as life to me.  Jamshid taught me how to ride a bike, he taught me about music, he taught me that sometimes life hands you lemons, and you learn to make lemonade. Now he lives just two hours from me after two decades where he lived in Iran and I lived here. When we saw each other, we literally RAN the length of the street that separated us. It was like something in a slow-motion movie.

Daiee Joon, I've missed you painfully. I'm so sorry we didn't see more of each other this weekend. I can't wait to see you and N and M again next month. I can't wait to spend time with this beautiful family you've made, and my little cousin who is the smartest kid I've ever met. I love you!!!

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Vancouver, Iran, Lumiere, Tojos

A Carnivorous Brunch - T-Rex BBQ

You guys are so patient with me - thank you!

The ingredients in the photo on the last post were most closely guessed by Brett, who got everything right except the focaccia. However, Miss Cathy actually names the whole dish as it was listed on the restaurant's menu. Problem is, Hangtown Fry is most often made with the oysters cooked INTO the omelet, as opposed to the way these were served, kinda loosey-goosey. Congratulations to Brett!

Still, though, no one guessed the restaurant, which I can't say say surprises me much.

This tasty brunch was had at T-Rex BBQ in Berkeley.

C's been wanting to hit T-Rex for quite some time, but I've struggled with the whole "cross-the-border-into-Berkeley" thing. Still, when some friends raved about it, and another pair of friends suggested it for our upcoming brunch, I was happy to have the chance to check it out.

T-Rex is a pretty, bright, airy space -- and it's big. Much bigger than I expected, in fact, with a 2nd story and lots of well-spaced tables. I could see the place getting really loud on a hopping Friday night, but on a Sunday afternoon, we were pleasantly surprised at how tolerable the noise level was.

We settled in to review a varied and nicely seasonal brunch menu, but as soon as my eye caught a glimpse of Maple Sugar Beignets, Espresso Custard ($9), my food-filter shut down and I practically hollered the order to our waitress before she'd even taken our drink orders. (Look, in my defense, it was 2pm and none of us had eaten a thing all day.)

We'd all heard stellar reviews of the cocktails here, with their whimsical and often literary names (but, you know, not in that gross pretentious way). Their spin on a champagne cocktail (Prosecco with a sugar cube and lemon bitters) was so delightful that I found myself ordering some of these heady bitters online. C ordered a Death in the Afternoon (bubbles and pastis -- kill me, indeed). He loved it, though I really don't care much for anise-flavored spirits, and am thus a crummy judge of said cocktail. J's cocktail was perhaps the most unique - something vodka-y and grapefruit-y, with rosemary simple syrup. Oh, and a rosemary sprig for visual interest. (See for yourselves, people - it was visually interesting! And only a wee bit affected.)

So, by this time, the beignets have arrived (thank god, 'cos I was about to eat my hand), and we've ordered our mains. But first. The beignets? Not really so much - more like really, really good donut holes. But no one cared - they were lovely and the espresso custard? It was only because there was a child in attendance that I didn't use four letter words and  eat more than my fair share.  But this child? He would have understood if I had.  (You'll see why shortly).

Moving on.

C, bless his heart, ordered Duck Confit Hash ($15). I love creative uses of stuff that wouldn't otherwise be sold -- including the best, crispy-brown bits of confit. Tasty dish. My Hangtown Fry ($14) was exceptional. Really. Thick-cut, chewy-crisp bacon? Check. Fluffy (and I do mean fluffy), delectable scrambled eggs? Yup. Battered and fried oysters, all plump and juicy-like? Uh-huh. The toast and potatoes, too, were really good. This is a dish I could order again and again.