Focaccia Me? No, Focaccia You

Every now and then when I want that braised flavor and some well-cooked veggies I head to Focaccia, which is on that swanky block of Sacramento near Embarcadero and probably near every swanky choad-for-hire firm in the financial district.

The place has lots of good everyday stuff like sandwiches and salads, but I appreciate the good deal that is the stew -- $5.95 for beef, lamb or chicken (although I can’t remember when they had beef or lamb) over rice, with a selection of fresh veggies like zucchini, mushrooms, asparagus and so on. Of course I never take the rice and request the vegetables instead. It’s not service with a smile, but all I come for is the stew and veg.

There are only a couple of problems. One is that I have to jostle the hoity-toity scene at Focaccia, and the other is that I have to deal with the grumpy Focaccia guy.

OK, so the economy is probably pinching this small business, especially one that takes on the overhead to cater to the upscale-professional lunch crowd. So now, apparently, swapping out the rice for the veggies is not OK.

There’s one person ahead of me. Grumps helps him out, then says "next!" without making eye contact, even though it’s just me standing there. As usual, I order the stew without rice and with some veg. He demurs. "There’s a lot of veggies already in there," he says of the stew, and asks me: "Rice?"

"No rice, veggies," I repeat. He makes a face. I stare back. Grumpaster G turns to the pot on the stove and ladles some chicken stew in a take-out container; he grabs a few string beans and asparagus with his tongs and places the order on the glass shelf. I take it.

Let the record show that a few potatoes, chunks of canned tomato and a piece of celery don’t qualify as a lot of veggies, or really as veggies as we’d call them, we who work and grab take-out and also make a point to go to the market and cook. But the last thing I’d do on this earth is quibble with a guy and his "I’m a dick all the time" attitude because he’s stuck shoveling stew to particular people like me.

Anyway, the stew isn’t as good anymore – flavor’s off, probably because they’re just throwing the above ingredients together, putting the pot on simmer and otherwise not giving a crap. Maybe we’re seeing the same funks in financial districts everywhere, among big shots and their supporting businesses. Times may be bad for you, sweethearts, and maybe that's a shame, but the rest of us are done bothering.