Gastronomie

Best of 2009, Day 3: The Shoe Shine Man

 
When I stopped to think about what article really moved me this year, made me sit up and take notice (and make sure all my friends did, too), it's actually not a particularly positive story. 

I walked by the corner of Market & New Montgomery streets every weekday for two years. Sometime in late 2008, this nicely dressed gentleman set up a mobile shoe-polishing shop on the corner. He was there every morning when I got off BART, and most days until sundown. I chalked him up to another victim of the economy; an enterprising businessman doing what he could to get by. 

Imagine my shock when I found out that Larry Moore was a homeless, recovering alcoholic who was doing his best to change his life. And imagine my disgust when I learned what the city was doing to him.

Now, here's the thing: I understand about rules. And I get that government bureaucracies are designed to enforce them. But they're usually not so good at it, and then they have to pick THIS guy to strong-arm? And then send him on a cat-and-mouse chase that would have frustrated lesser men? Bollocks.

I made sure everyone I knew saw that article. I made sure to stop by Larry's stand the next morning. He was SO busy that I just dropped off a pair of shoes and $10, telling him I'd pick them up that evening (they were ready promptly at 5pm).

But when I got to the office that morning, I found this gem; it turns out, the city (its people and its bureaucrats) had done right by Larry Moore. On Thursday, he made enough money to open a bank account, and get his first ATM card. He had enough to pay for a room for a week -- A WEEK, PEOPLE -- and not have to sleep under the Bay Bridge. 

I don't walk by the corner where Larry works every day anymore. But on the days that I do, I am reminded that the generosity of a few strangers can change lives. And I smile (both inside and out) knowing that even in the depths of this recession, there are a few success stories to tell.

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This post is part of Gwen Bell's "Best of 2009 Challenge".

Best of 2009, Day 1: The 39-Mile Trip

Gwen Bell, who is a cool and inspirational woman for many reasons, has started the Best of 2009 Challenge, and against my better judgment, I'm taking the plunge. That means you're going to see somewhere in the neighborhood of 15-20 posts from me this month. Some of them will have to do with food, no doubt. Most of them, I wager, will not. 

I hope you'll follow me on this journey anyway, and perhaps play along. I'd love for you to link to your posts in the comments, or leave your own Best Of story for each day I write. 

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My best trip of this year was not much of a trip at all, or at least not in the traditional sense. 

It was the weekend I spent walking across San Francisco with 2800 other women during the Avon Breast Cancer Walk.

Over the course of 30 hours and 39 miles, I experienced a range of emotions that left me raw and exposed for the better part of two weeks afterwards. 

As we set off in the blustery fog on Saturday July 11th, I had no sense that the weekend would change how I would face both physical and emotional challenges for the rest of my life. 

As we braved the winds and incessant noise as we marched north on the Golden Gate bridge, our excitement and energy kept us going. On the way back, our spirits were flagging from pain and exhaustion, but the fog had lifted and the sun was shining like a beacon on Wellness Village, where we'd be spending the night. It was a lesson in faith.

As we crawled into our sleeping bags that night, feet blistered and joints aching, I had no idea how I'd be able to walk another 13 miles the next day. When I woke in the morning, I felt restored and energized by the women surrounding me. It was a lesson in healing.

As we crossed the finish line at Golden Gate Park on the afternoon of the 12th, tears sprang from my eyes while I laughed hysterically and hugged my walking partner. It was a lesson in friendship.

And when I finally fell into the arms of the people I love dearly, people who cheered us on and helped us fund-raise and took us out for champagne to celebrate the accomplishment, I learned the most important lesson of all. It was a lesson in pride AND humility.

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

Epic Burger, at a not-so-Epic price

So, yea, this whole "recession" thing is quite the bummer. Instead of meeting somewhere for a cocktail en route home, we've been practicing our bartending skills at home. Dinners out have been scaled back a bit, and I've become an aficionado of the myriad happy hour and lunch deals around town instead.

When I heard that Epic Roasthouse was selling their incredible burger for $20 INCLUDING a beer and a brownie, it seemed like an excellent excuse to take the work team out for lunch. Now, here's the thing -- the burger is normally $20 on its own, but with good reason. First off, it's half a pound of amazingly delicious beef, ground fresh daily from cuts of Epic's steaks. Second, it's accompanied by more trimmings than any burger I've ever ordered, and crispy waffle-cut crisps. And, did I mention? HALF A POUND OF FRESH BEEF ON A BRIOCHE BUN?

"Accoutrements" include little ramikins of bacon, aioli, mustard, corn salad, sauteed mushrooms, house made ketchup, three kinds of pickles, lettuce and tomato. We had one each rare, medium rare, and medium burgers at our table, and they were PERFECTLY cooked. My medium rare burger was warm all the way through but still very, very pink in the center, reminding me of our dinner at Bern's Steakhouse.

Beers on offer are either of their tap brews -- on this day, Trumer Pils or Anchor Steam. (If you ask very, very nicely, the bartender just might let you have something off the bottle list for the appropriate upcharge.)

The brownie? Well, I'll admit that it's pretty "meh". The crumbly, nutty topping is all I ate of mine, but I have a feeling that that same nice bartender just MIGHT let you have another beer instead of the dessert, but I haven't tried it.

Epic is running this deal only during the week, and only in the upstairs bar from 11am - 3pm. Personally, I think it's a nice treat mid-week, and is a little gentler on the bank account than dinner out.

369 The Embarcadero (near Folsom)
San Francisco
415.369.9955

Cocktail Inspiration, Found

Like most people, I find inspiration in random places. But my current cocktail passions have taken a very unique path, as these things go.

It won't surprise you to hear that Alembic and NOPA laid the groundwork for this little "problem" -- it was their cocktails, after all, that started me looking at what goes into a drink as an "ingredient" in the gastronomical sense of the word. Soon after, I met Cam and Anita of Married With Dinner, two "civilians" who are as passionate about cocktails as Obama is about Change. They, along with Jen and a few other folks, organized a "Summer of Cocktails", wherein a group of us tasted our way through the Bay Area represented drinks in Food & Wine's  Cocktails 2008. It was this experience that really introduced me to the nuances in cocktail culture:  the differences between gins, when to use rye over bourbon, why gommes behave differently than simple syrups.

Finally, I got serious enough about the cocktails I was making at home that I invested (heavily) in a really well-stocked bar -- how many people do you know who have four types of bitters? -- and some small-batch ingredients. One of my (oft visited) stops is Cask, where I've procured goodies from  Small Hand Foods (Orgeat, Grenadine and Pineapple Gomme), along with hard-to-find spirits, liqueurs and hardware.

From there, as with cooking, it became a question of experimentation, and understanding. Learning, for example, that I prefer keeping two kinds of ice in the freezer -- standard cubes and smaller chunks -- because I like to shake Manhattans with smaller ice to break down and incorporate the rye (and yes, I do prefer a Manhattan made with rye) with the other aromatics, while I prefer my martinis watered down as little as possible.

I'm lucky, I suppose, in that cooking by nose and eye comes naturally to me; using those skills for cocktail creation is incredibly satisfying. And there's no doubt that having a champion (and critic) in C is important -- his palate helps to temper my preference for overtly tart beverages. So, over the several weeks, I've added a couple recipes to my notebook that I thought some of you might enjoy. Without further ado...

Velvet Fuji

• Half a Fuji apple (most crisp-tart apples will do), peeled and roughly chopped
• 2 oz Woodford Reserve Bourbon
• .5 oz Orgeat
• .5 oz + 1 tsp fresh-squeezed lemon juice
• 1 dash bitters
• 1 tsp dark maple syrup

1. Muddle the apple in a shaker, then add remaining ingredients.
2. Shake vigorously, and double strain into a chilled cocktail glass
3. Garnish with a lemon twist, or orange blossom

Saturday Superlative

• 1.5 oz vodka
• .5 oz Aqua Perfecta Basil Eau de Vie
• 1 tsp Absinthe (I prefer St. George Spirits)
• 1 oz fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice
• 1 tsp agave nectar
• Club soda

1. Stir first five ingredients in a mixing glass with ice cubes until well-chilled
2. Strain into a DOF glass containing three ice cubes
3. Top with soda and garnish with a basil leaf or grapefruit twist

Discovering Tasmania, right here in San Francisco

I'm really (no, REALLY) not in the habit of pimping local "foodie" events that roll into my inbox, but this one caught my eye, and since I'm going to attend it myself, I figured it was worth sharing with you all as well.

As some of you know, I spent two weeks in Australia this past November (Flickr set here), and four of those days were spent in the most magical place I've ever been -- Tasmania. The natural beauty is epic, and can we talk about the wildlife? Fairy penguins, Wombats, Tasmanian Devils -- these are species most of us would be lucky to see in captivity, let alone in their natural habitats, where we saw them.

But here's the other thing -- of all the places we visited, Linda and I thought the food in Tasmania was some of the best. They take "local" very seriously here even when it's not meant to be trend-conscious, which makes sense given their geography. Tasmanian oysters are plump, creamy, flavorful wonders -- far more delicious than their Sydney counterparts. Trevalla (aka blue nose bass or butterfish) is a wonderfully sweet, meaty fish. Sheep's milk cheeses abound here, and Roaring Forties (my favorite blue cheese) also hails from this corner of the world.

From a produce perspective, wild berries are as plentiful as they are in the Pacific Northwest, and Tasmanian stone fruits (in season) are supposed to be incredible. All manner of heady, fragrant fungi abound, and the peas... oh, the peas.  We had purees so sweet and green they'd make you weep.

The icing on the cake, of course, are the wines. Before our trip, I don't think I'd ever had a Tasmanian wine. Now, I can't get the taste of Tassie riesling out of my head -- crisp, acidic and fragrant, they are a far cry from my favorite Mosel rieslings, but they serve a different purpose, too. Frankly, I would challenge any riesling-hater to try these wines, and recognize them!

We were less impressed by the red side of the viticultural spectrum, though a few Pinot Noirs certainly made an impression. Frankly, the climate of Tasmania is rather cool for most red grapes to concentrate and ripen well, which is why we stuck mostly to local whites.

So, what does any of this have to do with San Francisco? Well fortuitously, Macy's Cellar is bringing in Laura McIntosh and Chuck Hayward (of Jug Shop fame) for Taste Tasmania on Saturday January 17th at 4pm. The event is free, and I am definitely planning to be there. Hope you'll consider it as well.

Interesting Food -- Are You Ready For It?

Last week, Sam and I went to Orson on their first publicly-open night. She wrote an outstanding post about it here, including some excellent tips for getting the most out of a meal at Orson.

I thought I'd toss my two-cents into the ring, as so many of you today are heading over from her post, and decided to take the opportunity to ask an interesting question, as well.

To begin though, I have to laud Jacqueline Patterson's cocktail list. I fell so promptly in love with the Celery Gimlet that I actually ordered two of them instead of trying a second cocktail. Interestingly, I tried Alembic's celery & gin concoction on Friday night, and have to say that Orson's version is a far more balanced drink. Sam's Catch-22, while not my personal cup of tea, is a masterful libation loaded with flavor.

Also, as Sam mentioned, the Lightly Smoked Fish ($15) is a wonder of sous vide cookery -- the outside is texturally similar to hot-smoked salmon while the interior retains the texture of cold-smoking. Charred Octopus ($11) is a light dish, punctuated by paper-thin shavings of beef tendon and sprouted peanuts; an odd combination to be sure, but one which works beautifully.

When Chef Falkner came out to say hello, Sam and I both couldn't help gushing over everything, from the drinks and savory courses I espoused above, to the lovely space and service. We chatted for a bit about the never-ending "California Cuisine" debate, which leads me to ask you this question:

Is San Francisco ready to embrace technique-based cooking?

Ours has long been a culture of ingredient-driven food, and with good reason -- just stop in at any Farmer's Market and you can see why. But in that process, we've effectively denied our restaurant kitchens the opportunity to develop and cultivate the use of creative techniques, styles, and flavors.

I think back to the wonderful and memorable Smoked Yogurt that accompanied our chocolate cake at Coi, and how it disappeared not long after our meal there because it was "too different". And yes, while I know that Winterland's location was cursed, it's still unfortunate that they closed SO quickly (though, by all accounts, service never really got where it needed to be). How about the dishes that Daniel Humm was turning out at Campton Place? How could we have let a creative mind of his caliber run off to New York?

The question has been asked many times, many ways. But I can't help but ask it again. Are we willing to pay top-dollar for food because of the effort it takes? Is San Francisco ready to support a local favorite daughter in her attempt to push the boundaries of what we eat in this town?

Weigh in, please. I'm truly curious to know your thoughts.

Tags: Citizen Cake, Orson, Elizabeth Falkner, Molecular+Gastronomy, Cooking, Restaurants, San Francisco, Food & Drink

Fish & Farm, a New Local Gem

We're in the midst of a restaurant explosion of sorts in San Francisco, one which shows few signs of letting up. Part of what I love is how spread out these new restaurants are -- Serpentine in Dogpatch, Local on 1st Street (something of a culinary wasteland, to be sure), and my current favorite, Fish & Farm in the Tenderloin.

My first taste of Fish & Farm was a couple of months ago, as part of a media dinner. I didn't feel right writing about that meal since it was fully comped, but I was torn because I knew that I'd be back on my own dime, and soon. I've now been to F&F three times, and I may be a little bit enamored.

The focus here is on local and sustainable, and while those concepts are currently being abused to within an inch of their lives, Fish & Farm is trying to do them right. For example, they're growing herbs on their rooftop garden, and they've committed to supporting local purveyors by sourcing most of their fish, meat and produce from within 100 miles of the restaurant.

All this sounds great, but without delicious food to back it up, it doesn't go very far. So how 'bout that food?

So far, I have enjoyed everything I've eaten at Fish & Farm -- and that covers a LOT of ground. A few key highlights for your enjoyment:

• Oyster & Pumpkin Salad ($11) blew my socks off. The roasted pumpkin was tender and sweet, while the panko-battered oysters were briny and crisp. I can't remember the last time I had such an innovative salad that I enjoyed.
• Pan-Seared Corvina ($25) has been on the menu in a few iterations, and both versions I've tried have been great. The delicate fish is never overpowered by the preparation, but makes a great vehicle for subtle but rich flavors. (One of the accompaniments was a sweetbread raviolo. The pasta was perfect, even if I didn't adore the filling, so I can't wait to try a main pasta dish soon.)
• And then there's the grand-daddy of them all -- a Marin Sun Farms (if I recall correctly) Rib Eye Steak ($38). That may seem pricy, but it's very much in line considering the cost of MSF's beef at retail. Anyway, I have told anyone who wants to listen that this was the best steak I ate in 2007. It's a very generous cut, easily shareable (unless you are C, who can eat his weight in good beef).
• Smashed Potatoes (~$6)... Catherine has already written about these here, and they really are that good.

The wine list is superb and extremely interesting, with maybe my favorite policy in the city: if a wine from the bottle list appeals to you, but you want only a glass, you can have it for a third the price of the bottle. Considering that 90% of the list is under $50, this is an easy way to try a wine you're curious about.

Cocktails are strong and delicious -- none was overly sweet, and all the herby/fruity ingredients are local and/or organic. In fact, the rosemary in the San Francisco Martini ($8) comes from the aforementioned rooftop garden. Bartenders are funny and charming, and great at making cool drinks on the fly, or picking a wine from a bare bones description of what you like. (Even when you  insist you don't care for Chardonnay, you might eat crow when they make you taste a Chard they know you'll like. Hmph.)

As to desserts... I have admittedly not been wooed by any of them yet, though the Pug's Leap Goat's Milk Buche from the Cheese Course ($12 for 3), made me want to start rediscovering goat's milk cheeses again. The dessert menu doesn't seem to change as frequently as the savory menu, and frankly, I think that's a wise choice for a place this small and without a pastry chef.

Fish & Farm is a small place -- maybe 40 or so seats -- so you may find yourself waiting a little while, even with reservations. Because of how comfortable the room is, I've noticed that people linger long after dessert. Practice patience, enjoy a cocktail at the bar, and you'll be richly rewarded.

Fish & Farm
339 Taylor Street (inside the Mark Twain Hotel)
San Francisco, CA
415.474.3474

Tags: Food, Food & Drink, Wine, San Francisco, Local, Cocktails, Restaurant Review

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

An update on Sketch!

Unless you've been living under a rock, you know that a fierce ice-cream battle rages here in the Bay Area. East of the bridge, we have Ici and Sketch, while the city's Bi-Rite Creamery seems to be beating Mitchell's by a fine hair.

Having now eaten at all four on numerous occasions, I feel wholly equipped to say that Bi-Rite's salted caramel ice cream kicks some serious ass, but is (for me anyway) only consumable very rarely. It's just too rich. Mitchell's Macapuno ice cream, on the other hand, is one I could eat once a week and be happy.

On the East side, I still think Ici's ice creams are tooooo sweet, though I understand there are people who like that kind of thing. To be honest, I have rarely finished a whole cup of their confections, and I'm now more likely to get a single bon-bon if I don't take a pass altogether.

Then there's Sketch. My happy place. They recently closed their doors for a couple of months to redo the interior of the shop, and bring in new equipment. Gone are the Italian-style gelati bins; instead there are shiny new soft-serve machines -- three of them -- each serving two flavors.

Now, Ruthie told me that the machines do wonders for maintaining and consistent texture to the flavors, and that makes sense -- they produce a wide assortment of textures from granitas to gelati to heavier ice creams. And the flavors I tasted did have an even better mouthfeel than before.

BUT. The one major flaw in the system is that the only flavors that can be combined are the two flavors in each machine. I'm not sure why they can't do a pull from two different machines -- I understand that it won't be as aesthetically pleasing, but that essentially meant that I couldn't have my old favorite Strauss Yogurt with the Coconut I was so craving.

Instead, I went for the Coconut with Cocoa Nib combination. And don't get me wrong - it was superb. The Cocoa Nib was almost like a lightly chocolatey marshmallow, and the Coconut was so light it (and I freaking hate writing things like this) "danced" on the tongue, leaving behind a strong, rich flavor without a heavy butterfat coating. Pretty perfect, really. Still, I was sad to pass up my tangy favorite.

Next on my list to try at Sketch is the olive oil sundae -- basically the ice cream flavor of your choice (Ruthie or Eric will steer you to a complimentary flavor) drizzled with olive oil and sea salt. I have it on good authority that it's phenomenal.

Sketch Ice Cream
1809 4th Street
Berkeley, CA
510.665.5650

Summer's Long Departure

This is one of my favorite times of the year -- the days are getting shorter, but what we have of them bring sparkling-razor-focused sunshine. The haze is gone for a few weeks, and the weather gets a bit temperamental. Yesterday it was 75 degrees at 8pm; today, it's 67 at noon.

My favorite fruit in all the world (tomatoes) are at their apex, and some days warrant eating them out of hand. Other days, it seems cool enough to start canning and souping.

It's the last of the weekends at the lake, the last of the cookouts, the last of lazy mornings in the sun, reading a good book with a glass of iced tea. All these "lasts" remind me how lucky I am to live here, to BE here, and to have wonderful people (and dogs!) around me to share these moments with.

I've compiled a few of my favorite end-of-season recipes for you -- I know I'm looking forward to enjoying the last of the summer light streaming through my windows while I pull together these dishes.

Farmer's Market Penne
Chicken & Squash Risotto
Revelatory Tomato Soup & Grilled Cheese Sandwiches
Bread Salad with Cannellini Beans

PS -- don't forget to come out tonight and celebrate the final days of summer in Old Oakland.

Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, Oakland, French Bulldog, Lake Berryessa, Recipes