A couple years ago fellow Bistrovian BrO turned me on to the marmalade of June Taylor. Best marmalade I've ever had, and better yet I had it all to myself, as The Fanch can't stand the stuff.
Our old friends at Chow have a video interview with June here.
Showing posts with label East Bay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label East Bay. Show all posts
9/12/07
7/3/07
Review: Oliveto
Like Chez Panisse, Oliveto has two floors, two menus and two price ranges, the social stratification made visceral by a staircase. Is this what John Edwards is talking about? While a privileged few in America are upstairs eating stuffed Jones Ranch rabbit, the rest of us are downstairs scraping by on pizza con pancetta, fennel and dandelion? No justice, no peace!
We opted for the lower realm, mainly because we didn't have a reservation but also because of our sneaker-ish footwear, which the hostess assessed with an obvious glance as we stepped inside.
Let's get this out of the way first: it still wasn't cheap. Nearly $90 for two people, and it teetered on the edge of "worth it." Here's why:
I started with a negroni to slake my summertime thirst. It was too sweet, and the waitress spilled a few splashes as she set it down. At $10 a cocktail, that's no small loss.
We ordered three apps, two of which were spectacular, a summer squash carpaccio and a wild-greens soup. The salumi plate was uninspiring, with two of the salumis very similar in taste and texture (what's the point of doing a sampler?) and the third, a pate on crostini, basically pure fat and salt. Which isn't the worst thing in the world, but it was far from sublime. So 2-for-3, and high hopes for the entrees...
The Fanch had lamb shoulder daube, I had the grilled squid piled on a large crostino and drizzled with aioli. Both were flavorful; both were salty. Again, salty's not necessarily bad, but when you're paying $15 for mini-entrees in a house of excellent repute, you hope for a bit more subtlety, a few more well-played notes. With a bit of the grill's char riffing off the deep-sea brine, my squid worked better toward that goal than Fanch's lamb.
We skipped dessert.
Sometimes I sound like a broken record. It's just not worth it. I won't go quite that far this time; in fact, the upstairs menu, which changes frequently, was adventuresome enough to lure me back for a big splurge, but it would have to be a very special occasion.
As for downstairs, which is more along the lines of a trattoria with pastas and pizzas and salads, I would do it again, especially if it were a choice between that and the Pasta Pomodoro down the block.
We opted for the lower realm, mainly because we didn't have a reservation but also because of our sneaker-ish footwear, which the hostess assessed with an obvious glance as we stepped inside.
Let's get this out of the way first: it still wasn't cheap. Nearly $90 for two people, and it teetered on the edge of "worth it." Here's why:
I started with a negroni to slake my summertime thirst. It was too sweet, and the waitress spilled a few splashes as she set it down. At $10 a cocktail, that's no small loss.
We ordered three apps, two of which were spectacular, a summer squash carpaccio and a wild-greens soup. The salumi plate was uninspiring, with two of the salumis very similar in taste and texture (what's the point of doing a sampler?) and the third, a pate on crostini, basically pure fat and salt. Which isn't the worst thing in the world, but it was far from sublime. So 2-for-3, and high hopes for the entrees...
The Fanch had lamb shoulder daube, I had the grilled squid piled on a large crostino and drizzled with aioli. Both were flavorful; both were salty. Again, salty's not necessarily bad, but when you're paying $15 for mini-entrees in a house of excellent repute, you hope for a bit more subtlety, a few more well-played notes. With a bit of the grill's char riffing off the deep-sea brine, my squid worked better toward that goal than Fanch's lamb.
We skipped dessert.
Sometimes I sound like a broken record. It's just not worth it. I won't go quite that far this time; in fact, the upstairs menu, which changes frequently, was adventuresome enough to lure me back for a big splurge, but it would have to be a very special occasion.
As for downstairs, which is more along the lines of a trattoria with pastas and pizzas and salads, I would do it again, especially if it were a choice between that and the Pasta Pomodoro down the block.
6/12/07
TJ East Bay Delay
This time, Oakland city council members (including Barbara Boxer's son) are making it difficult for two Trader Joe's to open in Oakland because of union concerns. Last time, it was uptight Berkeley neighbors fretting about secretive German families and cheap booze. When are they going to learn? You can't stop the Fearless Flyer.
6/7/07
¡Camarones!
Mi amigo el Elbo picks me up and shows me how he rolls in Oaktown: First stop is Fruitvale's International Blvd. for Taquería San José, then a quick run for tall boys and finally greeting Susan the ticket taker at the parking lot for the Mac -- also known as McAfee Coliseum, home of the Oakland Athletics, who were hosting las Medias Rojas de Boston.
It sure would have been fun to have Manny and Big Papi over to San José, which is next to the pawn shop that's next to the Puerto Rican restaurant. (Sofrito: That place is a little too starchy and way too salty, and adding a Guinness on top of all that nearly put me over the edge once. A couple of burps later I was fine.) In the nearly 10 minutes I was in the taco place, I learned the following: Burritos are $3.50, supers with the works a buck more. Shrimp burritos are a splurge at $4.50. The staff is friendly and attentive. The salsa verde is the *best in the Bay Area.*
Wanting to see what the griddleman could do, I went with the shrimp tube. Minutes later, with our chips and salsa on the hood of the Honda, I dug in. Unbelievable crunch and spice explosion. The G-man threw a mix of sautéed red and green peppers and onions with seasoned shrimp. Spoonfuls of the salsa verde added (help me out here, Elbo) tomatillo, jalapeño and creamy avocado.
I finished that pup in a heartbeat, while the tortilla was still warm. My Tecate was not as cold as I would have liked, but I have to say, this was almost as good as the pregame eats for my last ball game. If only International Blvd. weren't in the East Bay.
It sure would have been fun to have Manny and Big Papi over to San José, which is next to the pawn shop that's next to the Puerto Rican restaurant. (Sofrito: That place is a little too starchy and way too salty, and adding a Guinness on top of all that nearly put me over the edge once. A couple of burps later I was fine.) In the nearly 10 minutes I was in the taco place, I learned the following: Burritos are $3.50, supers with the works a buck more. Shrimp burritos are a splurge at $4.50. The staff is friendly and attentive. The salsa verde is the *best in the Bay Area.*
Wanting to see what the griddleman could do, I went with the shrimp tube. Minutes later, with our chips and salsa on the hood of the Honda, I dug in. Unbelievable crunch and spice explosion. The G-man threw a mix of sautéed red and green peppers and onions with seasoned shrimp. Spoonfuls of the salsa verde added (help me out here, Elbo) tomatillo, jalapeño and creamy avocado.
I finished that pup in a heartbeat, while the tortilla was still warm. My Tecate was not as cold as I would have liked, but I have to say, this was almost as good as the pregame eats for my last ball game. If only International Blvd. weren't in the East Bay.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)