Gastronomie

Falling... the Mint Gimlet

Remember this post?

Remember how I struggled with my decision? I posted on Facebook, I update my Twitter, I asked everyone who would indulge me. I studied every review, every YouTube demo, every blog post about the Canon EOS XSi.

And then? I ordered it. I waited with bated breath as my delivery window was posted on Amazon, and then delayed by two days. I said goodbye to my loyal little point-and-shoot. The one that followed me from Burning Man to Italy, and re-ignited my zeal for photography.

Yesterday, my brand-spankin' new camera was delivered. And in the evening, a special angel arrived bearing a "Congratulations" gift bag loaded with the things a newbie dSLR owner may not know she needs: a polarizing filter, a UV filter, a lens hood, and a cool Lowepro shoulder-strap that lets me carry around an extra battery (also gifted).

And today? Today I must admit that I have fallen completely and totally in love with my new camera.  Why? Because I am more confidently taking photos that make me feel legitimized, if you can imagine that. Even after two of these:

Hangar One Mint Gimlet

• 2 oz Hangar One Kaffir Lime vodka
• Juice of one Key lime
• 6 torn mint leaves
• Agave nectar to taste

I like the mint flavor to be slight subdued in this drink, otherwise I think it overpowers the delicacy of the vodka. It's why I don't muddle. Simply shake all ingredients, with copious cocktail ice, until frothy and ice cold.

I love, love, love whizzing lime zest, sugar, and the tiniest bit of kosher salt in my spice grinder  to rim this cocktail. It makes the presentation a little more special, and only serves to subtly enhance the flavors in the drink.

Tags: Food, Food & Drink, Cocktail, Hangar One,Canon,Camera,dSLR,Photography,Oakland,San Francisco

Beer + Monks + Oakland = The Trappist

I have started this post at least four times. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating - something about The Trappist, or Belgian beer, or Oakland, or some combination thereof makes my adorable little MacBook go "pffflt" and shut down Firefox.

But I'm a trooper, and I just have to give Brother Chuck and Brother Aaron some love. (No, silly, they are NOT really monks, though if monkhood were bestowed on the basis of how much joy one can bring to the unwashed masses, they'd definitely be in the running).

The Trappist opened in Old Oakland, and to little fanfare, in December by two guys who love Belgians and were over their day jobs. They offer 15 beers on tap, which rotate more often than I can keep up with, and another 100 or so selections by the bottle. The majority of beers are served in proper stemware (see here), and at the proper temperature. The bar and taps were imported from Belgium, and bring an incredible sense of character to this tiny space on 8th Street.

It's at The Trappist where I first tasted a Flemish Red Ale, which I now know to be a perfect friend to my palate -- I'm quite partial to Rodenbach, as it happens, though Monk's Cafe is lovely, too. These sour beers, somewhere between a Lambic and an Ale in character, are less up Colin's alley, though he too has found a flavor profile he really loves: Barrel-aged Cru beers, Allagash and Carollus in particular, are favorites of his.

There's no food service at The Trappist, but they do have two cheeses available for noshing -- an Aged Gouda and a Chimay -washed soft cheese -- with nuts and the best crackery-breadsticky things I've ever had. Either (or one of each) is more than enough to keep you upright on your barstool while you sample the next beer on your list.

Trappist is far more than you favorite local pub, though it has quickly struck that note with a handful of our neighbors. It's your favorite wine bar, redefined in an unexpected and refreshing way.  It's a place where novices and beer connoisseurs alike can compare notes without pretension or affectation. Maybe most importantly, it's a place where a couple of guys are seeing their dream realized, and are clearly thankful for it, every day.

The Trappist
460 8th Street
Oakland
510.238.8900

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

St. George Spirits Absinthe -- No Longer Green...

...with envy, that is.

You see, when the first batch of the the Absinthe Verte was released back in December, I missed the chance to get a first-release bottle. So I've been waiting with bated breath (since August, if you want to know the truth) to get my paws on my very own bottle.

Today, C and I made our way to the distillery right around noon, fortuitously bumping into a couple of friend who had gotten in line just before us. Fortuitous because the wait was a stultifying two-and-a-half hours. In icy cold weather. And biting wind. On an empty stomach. And no caffeine.

Like I say, fortuitous, because if the company hadn't been good, C and I would likely have killed each other!

In any case, the wait was more than worth it. I'm not a huge fan of licorice or anise, but the final product out of the labs at St. George is so unique, and so incredibly complex, that the the fennel-type flavors are but a single facet of the overall experience.

The first sip is almost cloyingly sweet, with a saccharine finish that keeps on giving. But each subsequent sip reveals a new flavor -- tarragon, lemon balm, star anise. The fragrance, too, develops depth before your eyes, as the melting ice awakens the volatile oils in the liquor.

Is it any wonder that this magical green elixir inspired such art and poetry?

At last check-in, the distillery still had some bottles of Absinthe Verte left (there were around 1,000 bottles available today). Failing that, you might try one of the handful of retailers who have the remaining allotment of the stuff: Hi-Time Wines, Jug Shop, K&L Wines, Wally Wines & Spirits or D&M Liquor.

St. George Spirits
2601 Monarch St
Alameda, CA
510.864.0635

Tags: Hangar One, St. George Spirits, Absinthe, Liquor, Lance Winters, San Francisco, Alameda, Oakland, Food & Drink

A Cocktail to Celebrate By

I'm currently enamored of "cocktails" - those mixed marvels of juices and spirits, liqueurs and bitters which first saw their heyday in the 1930s, when Prohibition-era bartenders had the chance to practice their art with quality spirits, instead of the bathtub brews of earlier days.

Where we're located in Oakland, we're around 2 miles, as the crow flies, from the St. George Spirits/Hangar One distillery. I've raved about them before, so I won't go into details, but I credit them with a huge part of the resurgence of the "cocktail" in these parts. And to be honest, I think we in the Bay Area are paving the way for the rest of the country with bars like Bourbon & Branch, Rye, Cantina and Alembic -- let alone the incredible mixologists at restaurants like NoPa, Absinthe and even Bar Cesar.

Like I said, the cocktail is making a comeback.

What I love most about cocktailing is how it mimics cooking: take a base flavor, season it, add a spice or an herb (maybe both?), all the while paying attention to texture and balance. Thing is, cocktails provide instant gratification, and of course there's that delightful little buzz at the end.

My friends and I talk often about our affection for cocktailing, and how to play with the nearly endless variety of ingredients. In fact, one lovely lady's Limoncello has played a starring role in a LucianoDrop recently, while another's gift of a stunning shaker inspired a fanciful concoction only yesterday. But it was today's professional coups, both C's and mine, which led to the creation of tonight's most excellent cocktail.

The ChristianBerger

• Juice of one Ruby Red Grapefruit
• Juice of one Tangerine (a blood orange may be substituted)
• 1.5 oz Campari
• 1.5 oz St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur
• Champagne or other dry sparkling wine, chilled

1. Shake the first 4 ingredients vigorously with ice until frothy.
2. Fill your champagne flute 1/3 full with juice mixture
3. Top with fizzy good stuff (aka, bubbly, aka sparkling wine)
4. Enjoy

This will make 3 - 4 cocktails depending on how much juice you get out of your citrus; I suggest having enough on hand to make more than you think you'll need, because these babies go down way easier than you might expect.

If you're the garnishing type, you can pulverize some dried tangerine with sugar for a nice rim; I suggest dipping first in Campari, but you might prefer the sweetness of St. Germain. Salut!

Tags: Food, Food & Drink, Cocktails, San Francisco, Oakland, Mixology, Bar

Sitting Down at The Alembic

Earlier this week, an old friend came to town, and we planned to meet for a drink at Alembic; she's a bartender and I knew I wanted to take her somewhere with creative drinks and a spirits list to rival the best places in Manhattan. Plus, I mostly just love the vibe there, and the fact that you can generally hear the person you're sitting with.

As it turned out, we were both hungry so decided to grab a table instead of waiting for seats at the (packed) bar. I'd had a few nibbles here before, and had been quite pleased, so I was looking forward to making  a meal of the simple and well-thought-out menu of high-brow bar food.

We ordered our first round of cocktails (a Glenrothes concoction called "Boutonniere" for me, a Balvenie 15-year  for Angela), and settled on two Deviled Duck Eggs ($1 each), Herb Frites ($5), Mac & Cheese ($9) and an order of Lamb Sliders ($10).

The sliders are the only thing I probably wouldn't order again, which is a shame, because they could be standout. The bread is a bit too porous, which makes a mess, and both times I've ordered them, the meat itself has been somewhat dry.

The mac & cheese, though seemingly ubiquitous these days, is a really beautiful version made with local cheeses (Mt. Tam and Serena, I believe), and a generous shaving of truffles. Comforting, creamy and decadent, this is an easily shareable dish for two.

The duck eggs are perfectly lovely, and a steal at $1 each -- these are large eggs, and very filling. Paired with an order of fries, you could have a nice, fatty, booze-soaking meal for well under $10. Those fries, by the way, are herb-dusted and addictive, especially when used as a delivery-mechanism for the aioli they are served with. On this recent visit, it was a tangy lemongrass-and-garlic version. Really standout.

It was somewhere between the sliders and eggs that something went awry, though. I'd finished my cocktail, and asked for a Lagavulin on the rocks. Our waitress came back to tell me, very apologetically, that they were out, so she'd ordered me a Talisker. No problem there. But when she reappeared a moment later, she said, "oh, we are also out of Talisker, so this is a Macallans."

Now, some of you who don't drink Scotch may say, "what? I've heard of Macallans -- it's supposed to be good, right?" But the problem is, Scotch has a myriad of flavor profiles, and the closest comparison I can draw would be if you'd ordered a big, tannic, cabernet and instead received a glass of Beaujolais Nouveau. I was looking for something peaty and salty, not a smooth, mellow, caramelly Scotch.

I asked if they had Caol Ila, another Islay scotch, and she said yes, but was I sure I didn't want the Macallans, because the Caol Ila was $16 compared to the Macallan's $10.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?? (Let's not talk about the fact that the bill actually arrived with both the Macallan's AND the Caol Ila -- it was removed when we asked, of course, but just added to the "ick" factor of the experience).

Right around the same time, Angela ordered a Cynar and ginger. Waitress-lady says, "we don't have Cynar". So Angela orders an Averna instead. Waitress girl goes over, futzes with the POS system a bit, and comes back.

"We're out of Averna, but good news! We have Cynar after all!" Angela and I stared at each other gape-jawed, and burst out laughing.

Here's the thing: I don't necessarily expect a server at a small neighborhood eatery to remember the distinctions between and Islay and a Lowland Scotch, let alone which ones come from where. And I don't think it's unreasonable that they wouldn't be sure of the difference between Cynar and Averna, or really what the hell to do with them.

But when you're waiting tables at Alembic? A temple dedicated to the respect of some of the world's finest spirits, and one where the resident bartenders and owners use things like Glenrothes and Nocino in their cocktails? Then I do have an expectation that you will at the very least ASK A BARTENDER when you are out of the Scotch I want, and not just order the next thing you recognize that's the same price in the computer.

Boys of Alembic? Dave and Daniel and all my other favorite bartenders? PLEASE don't let this happen again. I come to you because you understand libations. You understand that using Sarticious instead of Hendrick's in a cocktail renders a totally different flavor. Please teach your floor staff to respect booze the way it is meant to be respected.

Alembic
1725 Haight Street (next door to Red Vic's)
San Francisco
415.666.0822

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Bars, Cocktails, Alembic

Bar Cesar, How Do I Love Thee?

We East Bay DINKs are an odd lot. For example, I will happily drive across the bridge to hit Coco500, or Globe, but Bar Cesar on Shattuck? In BERKELEY? Nope, that's too far.

So I was ecstatic when they opened a second location on Piedmont Avenue, spitting distance from my house, and with a gorgeous patio that is the perfect place to spend a few hours on a Sunday (or Wednesday!) afternoon.

I've now been to Cesar four times, for both lunch and dinner, and I can call it an incredibly welcome addition to the 'hood. Service is generally stellar, the bar is exceptionally good, and the food is always solid. There are usually some standouts, and a few things that are just "ok" in my book, but nothing has ever fallen flat.

We generally start out with either a Dark & Stormy's ($8.00), made with uber-spicy Belvoir Ginger Beer or a Pimm's Cups ($6.75), made with Elderflower soda -- a lovely spin on a traditional cocktail. While both are standout drinks, you could order just about anything here and rest assured that it would be perfectly rendered. (I owe you guys a story about my new favorite cocktail, which I've dubbed "Manhattan, the Elder").

Cesar's charcuterie/salumi choices are plentiful and worth a try. The  Tocino de Pato ($5.75 for half portion - more than enough for even 3 people to share), or smoked duck breast is my personal favorite.  Toothsome, a bit gamey, a bit fatty, and very delicious.  The  Lomo Embuchado ($6.75)  is also great, and a unique treat -- dry-cured pork loin is not something I've seen on any other menus.

The rest of the menu is pretty seasonal, so some of the dishes I've loved have since been replaced. Generally speaking, though, anything with anchovies or sardines is worth a try -- we had a standout beet salad with boquerones that made a believer out of C.  More recently, I shared the  Grilled Sardines with Heirloom Tomato Salad ($11.75) with a friend, and we  couldn't believe the quality. While sardines can be a pain in the butt to eat, Cesar makes them more than worth the work. The tomato salad, too, was exceptional. And honestly, you'd pay that much just for the salad at most places of this caliber.

The bocadillos (sandwiches) have generally been my least-favorite things on the menu, although that may have more to do with the fact that i'm just not a "sandwich person". The open-faced Smoked Salmon with Queso Fresco, Dill & Capers ($8.25) could have packed a little more punch, though the accompanying lemon wedge helped. And the Spicy Tuna with Egg ($7.75) wasn't really all that spicy.

Frankly, I think that the already-mild sandwiches really suffer from being served with other, more flavorful dishes.

Two more things to note: First, if you see black rice/black noodles on the menu, order them. They knock B44's Arros Negra out of the water. And, while the Patatas Bravas ($6.75) are worth a try, these dense wedges of potato with spicy tomato sauce and aioli WILL fill you up, so nibble them sparingly while you still have other food coming.

Amazingly, I've never tried any of Bar Cesar's desserts (it's a cocktail or a sweet for me these days, lest my waistline continue its magical disappearing act), though I've watched plenty of other tables gobble theirs down happily. You'll have to give them a try and report back.

Bar Cesar
4039 Piedmont Avenue
Oakland, CA
510.883.0222

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Oakland, Tapas, Spanish, Bar Cesar, Restaurant Review

District Wine Bar. Just Another Pretty Face?

Is it fair to judge a restaurant a mere two weeks after opening and post a negative review on a public blog? Probably not. But then, District doesn't bill itself as a restaurant, and this review is only marginally about the food selection.

It is, however, a review of a poorly designed (but beautiful) space, paired with inadequate service (from beautiful people), to serve the needs of a burgeoning ("beautiful-people") population South of Market. Are you seeing a pattern?

District's space is stunning -- high ceilings, exposed beams and brick, gorgeous lighting and artwork. Unfortunately, this is an acoustic nightmare once you pack a couple hundred people in, and only made worse by the thumping sounds of Om Records ricocheting off every surface.

Logistically, too, there is little to love. A large ovalish bar sits just about in the center of the cavernous space, which wouldn't be a problem in and-of-itself. It's just that, once people are two and three deep against it, all the pathways to the far sides of the room are nearly impassable. We were lucky enough to score two seats at the bar, and rarely were we left "unbumped" for more than two minutes. That makes it hard to maintain your "beautiful-people" look, you know?

Now, had there been a host at the front door, helping people find their way either to one of the many "niches" or to an appropriate section of the bar, most of this headache might have been avoidable. There is something about walking into a space that's neither bar nor restaurant nor lounge that can be disconcerting, and this one pretty much demands a host or hostess.

Once we were finally seated with a glass of Schramberg Mirabelle Rose ($10), we took a look at the menu, comprised mostly of small plates and a few desserts. We settled on three choices, placed our order, and requested a second glass of wine each.

{Seeing as how this is, after all, a wine bar, a few words about the selections would be appropriate. The wine list is eclectic, with something for everyone. A few choices cater to the more mainstream palate, while the more adventuresome will find plenty to try and love. I really enjoyed a stainless-fermented Domaine Stirn Muscat, and an excellent, EXCELLENT Adami Prosecco, both about $10/glass). Plus, they pour Movia's Pinot Nero by the glass, and I admire that chutzpah.}

About five minutes after ordering, we were presented with Beef Carpaccio ($14), slathered in what I can only describe as bottled Caesar-salad dressing. As the bartender set it down, he asked, "Can I get you guys anything else?" I reminded him of our remaining food items, and he said, "Oh, sorry, I didn't get those - it'll be just a few minutes."

OK, no problem! It's loud, and you're busy, and hey, you're so pretty I'm going to forgive and forget!

Five minutes later (right after we nearly had to stab a different bartender as she overzealously tried to sweep away the last of our carpaccio), our Arancini ($10-ish) arrived. Slightly underseasoned, but the arrabiata-style sauce under them was perfection - spicy, savory, tangy, tomatoey goodness. The fried sage leaves rounded everything out nicely, and we polished the three rice balls off lickety-split.

A barback comes along and clears our plates, and we think, "how nice, fresh plates for our Salumi ($12)." Uh-huh. You know where this is going, right?

Pretty bartender comes back to check our glasses and clears our silverware, and I say, "Um, we do have an order of Salumi coming, right?" He responds, "Oh, did you want Salumi, too?"

Now, I don't think three small plates between two people is, you know, excessive. Am I right? So why did he find it so surprising? And why, when I made it clear that we were EXPECTING the salumi, did he have to ask me if I WANTED said salumi? At this point, pretty is becoming something of a liability.

The salumi, when it DID arrive was stunning. Very good prosciutto, yes. But then... then, "Mole" from Salumi Cured Meats, spiced with chocolate, cinnamon, ancho and chipotle peppers. Fra' Mani soppressata, all delicious and moist and sliced paper-thin, as it should be.

While we were making out with this selection of meaty goodness, a party of three standing behind us ordered a bottle of wine. (That logistics thing rears it's ugly head again -- the bar is PACKED at this point, and these folks had nowhere to PUT said bottle of wine. Hardly their fault, as this is, after all, a WINE BAR).

Bartender brings over the wine, opens, pours a taste for the gentleman, awkwardly passing it to him over my head. Gentleman says, "I'm sure it's fine", and they swap glasses and bottle for cash. Bartender counts it out, and says, "This isn't enough."

"Excuse me?", says the gentleman, "I gave you $46."  Pretty bartender hands the gentleman a wine list and says, "The bottle is $48. See, right there, it says $48." Gentleman looks at the menu and says, "Noooooo... it SAYS $40."

Bartender looks at the wine list again, looks at the cash in his hand, says, "Oh, I was looking at something else" and unceremoniously turns away.

Seriously? That's it? No, "Whoops, silly me!"? Not a smile, not a soupcon of humor or apology or even something resembling humility? NOTHING? Awful. Shameful. Ick.

So, what's the verdict? The food and the wine are fine -- very good, even. And the space is beautiful. But District has some serious work to do in order to bring service up to snuff, and they really ought to consider placing a hostess stand up front to help guide the flow of traffic. Otherwise, it risks becoming a victim of its "all-things-to-all-(beautiful)-people" mentality.

District-SF
216 Townsend Street
San Francisco
415.896.2120

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, District, Wine Bar, Restaurants

Sweet & Sparkly

I don't know about you, but making grand plans for New Year's Eve always seems to leave me a bit, well, limp. I hate spending a ton of money for mediocre meals and service from surly waiters who are pissed to be working that night. I hate trying to find cabs, and waiting in line trying to get a drink at whatever party I spent a mint to get in to, and most of all hate the melodrama that invariably plays out three feet away from me.

So for the past three years, I've been holding a late-starting party with lots of sweet treats, bubbly and cocktails. It's great because people can have dinner at their favorite restaurant and still make it over in time to "Auld Lang Syne" with friends and really, what more could you ask for?

Since I've been such a ('scuse my language) slack-ass when it comes to recipes lately, I thought I'd share one for a Coffee-Caramel Trifle that has made it into the annual rotation. However, despite the pleas I'm sure to get in that there comments section, I will NOT share the recipe for my Fleur de Sel brownies (aka "crack brownies", as Alder called them). Some things are just not meant for sharing

Stealing a Bite -- My Top 10 Tastes of 2006

Sometimes, the inspiration for blog fodder comes in the form of, well... stealing. In this case, I'm stealing from Jen, who did this brilliant post about the 10 best things to pass her lips this year. I thought that recollecting all the delicious things I've eaten would be a nice way to close out what has been a pretty crappy year.

So, without further ado, I present my Top Ten Tastes of 2006, in (mostly) chronological order:   

1. Like Jen, I have to put the Buttermilk-soaked Fried Quail with Lemon Confit at Rubicon on the list. It was sublime enough that I have been back specifically to eat that one thing.   
2. Bacon-Wrapped Chorizo-Stuffed Dates at 4580 in Boulder. Before this meal, I would have sworn that I hate dates. Not only were these incredibly delicious in their own right, they actually opened my mind to an ingredient I previously shunned.
   

   

    
3. Chanterelle Tagliatelle at Babbo was positively exquisite -- the first time I understood how pasta was supposed to taste and "bite". Phenomenally good, and one of my loveliest meals with C, ever.   
4. Then there's Alinea, which was definitely the meal of the year. For the rest of my days, I will never forget the perfectness of Pear: Curry Infused Cocoa Butter Orb with Pear Juice.   
   

   

5. On the dessert end of the table is the Smoked Yogurt that accompanied the bittersweet chocolate cake at Coi. I've heard it's no longer offered because it was too odd for most people, which is a shame and makes me fear losing Daniel Patterson to New York. That stuff was revelatory.   
6. If I ever taste O-toro like the pieces we were served at Pod, I will consider myself ready to... ready to... oh, come on, who am I kidding? I wouldn't stop eating sushi. But, I would be a damned lucky girl.   
7. My first (and second... and third) La Spada's Hoagie. 'Nuf said.
   

   

    
8. Eating heavenly Festival Bread in Jamaica with hotter-than-sin jerk chicken and washing it all down with ice cold Red Stripe.   
9. You know how sometimes you listen to people go on and on about how great something is, and then when you finally try it, it's sort of a let-down because you've hyped it so much in your own head? Yea, that's not how it is with Pretzel Croissants from City Bakery.
   

   

10. And finally, to take us back a full year, the Croquembouche I ordered from Citizen Cake for last year's New Year's Eve party. While it was delicious in its own right, what made it a top-10 contender is the friends I got to share it with.

Now, you may have noticed that there are no wines or spirits on this list; that's because they could make up a whole post on their own. But a couple quick memories include:   

• My first sip of Oban, high above San Francisco on the top floor of the Hilton   
  
• A taste of Water's Crest Nightwatch, a luscious eiswein-style offering from Long Island
• The first sniff of Qi (the Lapsang Souchong/Orange/Vanilla liqueur from Lance Winters, Brian Backus & John Scharffenberger) that nearly knocked me backwards with its potency
• A Hangar One Wasabi Vodka Bloody Mary -- perfection with a pickled green bean
• Brewing a pot of Vanilla Rooibos tea, and sharing with my mom
• A dinner with good friends, seeing their reaction to their first taste of a nicely aged Masi Amarone. ..the wonderment that wine could taste like this.

It has been a year of delicious food, and delicious drink. A year of merry-making, friend-making, sadness-making.

Yes, it has definitely been a year to remember.

HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you, with hopes and wishes for a phenomenal year ahead with joy, prosperity and many beautiful and delicious things.

Tags: Food, Food & Drink, 2006, 2007, New Years, New Years Eve, Best Of, San Francisco, Chicago, Jamaica, Oakland, New York