I've lived in the western environs for six years and am still bumping into funky nooks. After a little shopping in Stonestown, I pull off Sunset onto Noriega, because somewhere on there lies the Kingdom of Dumpling. Sure enough, past the Safeway with rooftop parking and countless budget restaurants, there it is, next to Boomerang Cocktail Lounge. (People apparently smoke in there. Elbo?)
I literally jog in and stop in front of the line of top-loading fridges filled with bags of frozen goodness, some of which has been made that day and is ready to steam. I'm immediately attended to and walked through a purchase --- what needs steaming, boiling or simply a quick nuke. Quite a few things are recognizable from my brunches and lunches, even the sesame balls for dessert, though I'm not sure if those are for steaming, boiling or a quick nuking. They even have a couple kinds of buns and pot stickers.
For two big bags of pork dumplings, a flat of a dozen fresh Shanghai-style pork and ginger dim-sum pieces and four Chinese vegetable buns, the tally is about $22. I run home and steam the first half-dozen Shanghai dumplings in the double boiler for 7 minutes; the next batch will go in for 6.
Dumplings seem like a great thing to have on hand for weekend brunches, weeknight meals or even tasty snacks. No need to commit to a whole sit-down scene. (The Kingdom also has a restaurant, my salesperson tells me, handing me a card. It's on Taraval between 27th and 28th.) Why doesn't someone open a bunch of dim sum bars with a quick-service counter? Beats me. I'll have to hop down to Noriega more often.
Showing posts with label Sunset. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunset. Show all posts
6/14/08
12/12/07
Review: Kazu Sushi
The world's pelagic fish population might not be around when Miss Monkeypants is old enough to eat sushi, so we figured she should at least have some exposure before it's too late.
Friday night we bundled her off to Kazu Sushi on Irving between 9th and 10th -- it used to be Chika, and it's unclear if the ownership or just the name changed.
It had a few problems. The room was chilly, and the space heater deployed across from our table didn't help much because -- oops! -- it wasn't plugged in, as I found out about half way through the meal. Not surprising -- the staff was a bit scattered. But they remained friendly and happy to coo over a newborn. They were impressed, as were the couple at the next table visiting from Portsmouth, N.H., that she could take the hubbub; at one point she sat in my lap, sipped from a bottle, and surveyed the scene. (For what it's worth, the Portsmouth woman's brother, who lives here, told her Kazu was his favorite sushi place. I didn't ask for his name.)
The food was better. The numerous specials were all in transliterated Japanese. I asked our waitress to describe them in English, but it was rudimentary information at best. (A typical exchange: "What's this?" "Rrr, mmm, how to say, eh...pork." "Pork?" "Yessu. Pork. Glillu.")
I ordered a couple mystery dishes, just for the hell of it. It's one of my favorite activities: sampling apps that only a native Japanese might love. (Monkfish liver pate is one of these that have tentatively crossed the line into sushi-bar acceptance in certain American quarters.) The gamble paid off with the shishamo, small grilled anchovies or smelt, perhaps, that were eaten whole, head and all. It fell flat with the cold soggy pickled... I think they were sardines.
I loved the sushi we ordered: nothing too wacky, a white tuna tataki roll and a dragon roll with spicy salmon.
Coming soon: The Fanch reviews an invasive species, the grand opening of Pacific Catch where the beloved Canvas Cafe used to be.
Friday night we bundled her off to Kazu Sushi on Irving between 9th and 10th -- it used to be Chika, and it's unclear if the ownership or just the name changed.
It had a few problems. The room was chilly, and the space heater deployed across from our table didn't help much because -- oops! -- it wasn't plugged in, as I found out about half way through the meal. Not surprising -- the staff was a bit scattered. But they remained friendly and happy to coo over a newborn. They were impressed, as were the couple at the next table visiting from Portsmouth, N.H., that she could take the hubbub; at one point she sat in my lap, sipped from a bottle, and surveyed the scene. (For what it's worth, the Portsmouth woman's brother, who lives here, told her Kazu was his favorite sushi place. I didn't ask for his name.)
The food was better. The numerous specials were all in transliterated Japanese. I asked our waitress to describe them in English, but it was rudimentary information at best. (A typical exchange: "What's this?" "Rrr, mmm, how to say, eh...pork." "Pork?" "Yessu. Pork. Glillu.")
I ordered a couple mystery dishes, just for the hell of it. It's one of my favorite activities: sampling apps that only a native Japanese might love. (Monkfish liver pate is one of these that have tentatively crossed the line into sushi-bar acceptance in certain American quarters.) The gamble paid off with the shishamo, small grilled anchovies or smelt, perhaps, that were eaten whole, head and all. It fell flat with the cold soggy pickled... I think they were sardines.
I loved the sushi we ordered: nothing too wacky, a white tuna tataki roll and a dragon roll with spicy salmon.
Coming soon: The Fanch reviews an invasive species, the grand opening of Pacific Catch where the beloved Canvas Cafe used to be.
11/5/07
Review: Lavash
Brand-new joint on Irving in the Inner Sunset: Lavash is next door to L'Avenida and is run by the same guy. Lavash is the food of his youth -- Persian kebabs and salads. We stopped by for lunch and could barely find room for the stroller, as the interior consists of only two tables, a counter and a grill against the far wall on which the staff cooks the kebabs: Chicken, lamb/beef, veggie and shrimp. We sampled everything but the shrimp and enjoyed them all. Nothing spectacular, but that's fine. It was well worth the reasonable prices: the $12 combo plate easily feeds two.
We also dipped into the small but excellent roster of time-honored sides: a raita-like yogurt, a chopped cucumber/tomato/onion salad, and my favorite, a large hunk of feta cheese served with walnuts and fresh herbs.
The owner chatted with us about cabbages and kings, all manner of things: the merits of Bulgarian vs. French feta, the delectable German bakery that was on 9th and Irving when he first came to the neighborhood more than two decades ago, the films of Iranian director Abbas Kurastami, and the pleasure of watching his teenagers reach 18 and suddenly decide they want the food, the language, the culture of their families after childhoods of uber-American immersion.
It's hard to make a tiny space feel hospitable -- the other Middle Eastern place down the street, Yumma's, certainly doesn't go out of its way to do so -- but Mr. L'Avenida Lavash has done it. He has even put out a bottle of wine and shot glasses for those who want a little adult beverage, gratis, with their meals or while they wait for their take-out.
We also dipped into the small but excellent roster of time-honored sides: a raita-like yogurt, a chopped cucumber/tomato/onion salad, and my favorite, a large hunk of feta cheese served with walnuts and fresh herbs.
The owner chatted with us about cabbages and kings, all manner of things: the merits of Bulgarian vs. French feta, the delectable German bakery that was on 9th and Irving when he first came to the neighborhood more than two decades ago, the films of Iranian director Abbas Kurastami, and the pleasure of watching his teenagers reach 18 and suddenly decide they want the food, the language, the culture of their families after childhoods of uber-American immersion.
It's hard to make a tiny space feel hospitable -- the other Middle Eastern place down the street, Yumma's, certainly doesn't go out of its way to do so -- but Mr. L'Avenida Lavash has done it. He has even put out a bottle of wine and shot glasses for those who want a little adult beverage, gratis, with their meals or while they wait for their take-out.
10/18/07
Review: Hotei
Neighborhood standbys are tough to gauge. You learn to love, or if not to love, to live with the shortcomings, and soon you're so grateful there's a place you can fall back on you haven't noticed there's a serious problem. When it becomes to much to ignore, you feel bad pointing it out, like you've aged a bit and finally noticed that your favorite kindly uncle has chronic halitosis.
I've always liked Hotei even while acknowledging their noodle broths were too salty. It's a place to get Ebisu sushi without waiting two hours at Ebisu, and they provide a large bowl of hot noodle soup -- soba readily substituted for udon -- for a moderate price.
But our dinner there the other night, a night on which we didn't want pizza or Thai or Vietnamese or brochettes at the new Bistro 9, reminded me of Mifune, the place in Japantown. In other words, slapdash food -- the veggie pot stickers were particularly bad -- indifferent service, a perfunctoriness that feels like burnout. And yes, the same overly salty broth.
Speaking of the neighborhood, my man Wilson at Yummy Yummy got a shout-out in the Chron's Bargain Bites. OK my friend!
I've always liked Hotei even while acknowledging their noodle broths were too salty. It's a place to get Ebisu sushi without waiting two hours at Ebisu, and they provide a large bowl of hot noodle soup -- soba readily substituted for udon -- for a moderate price.
But our dinner there the other night, a night on which we didn't want pizza or Thai or Vietnamese or brochettes at the new Bistro 9, reminded me of Mifune, the place in Japantown. In other words, slapdash food -- the veggie pot stickers were particularly bad -- indifferent service, a perfunctoriness that feels like burnout. And yes, the same overly salty broth.
Speaking of the neighborhood, my man Wilson at Yummy Yummy got a shout-out in the Chron's Bargain Bites. OK my friend!
10/17/07
Review: The Pizza Place on Noriega
As promised by The Fanch, Sunday night we staked out the latest neighborhood pizza spot with a bit of buzz, the Pizza Place on Noriega (yes, that's the full name).
The pies didn't match the heights of Pizzetta 211, still the banner holder of Fancy-Pies-in-the-Hood. To be fair, that's not what The PPoN is aiming for. Call it sophisticated dude-pizza, perhaps, with names of pies like "The Spicoli" and "Meat Head." No quail egg and lamb-mint sausage on the toppings list.
We had the Rotten Robby and built a second from the basic margherita, adding spinach and caramelized onions. It's thin crust, and the toppings are fresh and generous. But the crust left us disappointed. It was thin but not particularly crispy or toothsome, more a white-bread version of a thin crust. And a couple of the toppings didn't work; the pesto on the Robby was administered in blobs; catching one in a bite was too much pesto at once. On the other pie, the caramelized onions were too cloying for my tastes, and, like the pesto, unevenly spread. A more careful hand in the kitchen would do wonders. As fellow Bistrovian BrO never fails to remind: "Attention must be paid!"
We also ordered two apps, a large mixed salad and roasted cauliflower: Well done, nicely dressed, and generous portions both.
It's nearly at the beach, Noriega and 46th, and when we walked in much of the clientele were young adults with hoodies and cold-weather knit caps drinking draft beer at the bar: a fine apres-surf setting. The room is big, full of fun (often winkingly bad) art, and high-ceilinged. It's partitioned in two by a wall that allows the kitchen/bar and dining sides to feel each other's presence but blocks some of the bar noise from the eating area. Because of its high ceilings and, as I discovered half way through the meal, an open skylight, the room was also chilly, a bit of a turn-off for what's otherwise a friendly, funky joint.
Worth going back? At less than $20 a person (two of the four in our party had a glass of wine; no dessert), it was the right price, much more reasonable than what you'd pay at Pizzetta or Gialina. And I really liked the room, chill notwithstanding. (Next time, wear the ski cap!) With a few tweaks, or perhaps knowing the strengths of the menu, it would be worth another visit. Perhaps we can ask them to leave the crust in a bit longer.
The pies didn't match the heights of Pizzetta 211, still the banner holder of Fancy-Pies-in-the-Hood. To be fair, that's not what The PPoN is aiming for. Call it sophisticated dude-pizza, perhaps, with names of pies like "The Spicoli" and "Meat Head." No quail egg and lamb-mint sausage on the toppings list.
We had the Rotten Robby and built a second from the basic margherita, adding spinach and caramelized onions. It's thin crust, and the toppings are fresh and generous. But the crust left us disappointed. It was thin but not particularly crispy or toothsome, more a white-bread version of a thin crust. And a couple of the toppings didn't work; the pesto on the Robby was administered in blobs; catching one in a bite was too much pesto at once. On the other pie, the caramelized onions were too cloying for my tastes, and, like the pesto, unevenly spread. A more careful hand in the kitchen would do wonders. As fellow Bistrovian BrO never fails to remind: "Attention must be paid!"
We also ordered two apps, a large mixed salad and roasted cauliflower: Well done, nicely dressed, and generous portions both.
It's nearly at the beach, Noriega and 46th, and when we walked in much of the clientele were young adults with hoodies and cold-weather knit caps drinking draft beer at the bar: a fine apres-surf setting. The room is big, full of fun (often winkingly bad) art, and high-ceilinged. It's partitioned in two by a wall that allows the kitchen/bar and dining sides to feel each other's presence but blocks some of the bar noise from the eating area. Because of its high ceilings and, as I discovered half way through the meal, an open skylight, the room was also chilly, a bit of a turn-off for what's otherwise a friendly, funky joint.
Worth going back? At less than $20 a person (two of the four in our party had a glass of wine; no dessert), it was the right price, much more reasonable than what you'd pay at Pizzetta or Gialina. And I really liked the room, chill notwithstanding. (Next time, wear the ski cap!) With a few tweaks, or perhaps knowing the strengths of the menu, it would be worth another visit. Perhaps we can ask them to leave the crust in a bit longer.
10/11/07
Pizza My Heart
Everyone's noticed that this town has gone pizza-crazy recently. When I moved here 7 years ago, there was nary a good pie to be had (perhaps Pauline's was the pinnacle at the time).
Today there's a great diversity of dough, sauce and cheese on offer, and a much higher threshold to cross to enter the city's competitive pizza joint landscape.
It's not surprising that Michael Bauer has jumped on the bandwagon, starting a weekly blog entry about pizza around the Bay Area. So far, he did a good job nailing Gialina in Glen Park. But we'll have to wait and see what else he uncovers. One place we haven't tried that has been amped up in the press lately is the Pizza Place on Noriega, supposedly an East Coast-style dough thrower. When we do get around to sampling their pies, we'll share the verdict here first.
Today there's a great diversity of dough, sauce and cheese on offer, and a much higher threshold to cross to enter the city's competitive pizza joint landscape.
It's not surprising that Michael Bauer has jumped on the bandwagon, starting a weekly blog entry about pizza around the Bay Area. So far, he did a good job nailing Gialina in Glen Park. But we'll have to wait and see what else he uncovers. One place we haven't tried that has been amped up in the press lately is the Pizza Place on Noriega, supposedly an East Coast-style dough thrower. When we do get around to sampling their pies, we'll share the verdict here first.
10/5/07
Review: Bistro 9
Bistro 9 opened a month or so ago on 9th Avenue, a casual Moroccan-Greek joint run by the folks behind Kan Zaman and the Citrus Club. I imagine it hopes to capitalize on its proximity to Park Chow a few doors down, picking up the usual evening overflow, and so far it seems to be working
Alex, my mom and I ate there Saturday and were cautiously impressed with the whole package--food, service and ambiance.
We all ordered the kabob platter plus, which includes three meat skewers, two sides and rice pilaf, but made sure not to duplicate choices to sample a wide range of dishes.
The place excels at grilled meat. My chicken skewers in a mint-cumin-yogurt marinade were tender and flavorful as were Alex’s lamb and salmon and my mom’s tangy kefte beef ones.
The sides, however, were uneven; my grilled vegetables a bit underdone and my pearl couscous too mushy, but the beet salad satisfied and the wonderful grilled eggplant slathered in tomato sauce melted in your mouth. Unfortunately, the white bean Provencal was flat. Still, the rice was fantastic and the portions were huge.
Overall, the restaurant had a cheerful hum. There’s a lovely patio out front, a warm, candle-lit main dining room with an exposed brick wall that runs along one side and an L-shaped patio out back with heat lamps, where we sat since it was a fine September evening. The service was speedy and courteous, and the check very, very reasonable.
We also eyed our neighbors’ roasted chickens and Greek salads, which looked great. All in all, I’d say it’s definitely worth returning to as a neighborhood staple, but I don’t think it merits a special trip from other parts of town.
9/26/07
Bargain Bites Riposte: Lime Tree
The Chron has published this year's Bargain Bites list. I'd like everyone to weigh in on the picks. Feel free to span more than one per post. I'll go first:
Lime Tree, 6th and Irving. Cheap, sure, but not even worth the bargain price the several times I've stopped in. My heart breaks to write this, as the owner is the sweetest man in the Inner Sunset. Perhaps he's finally gotten it together, but I visited at least four times in its early days, each time coming away disappointed with the eternal wait for fairly straightforward food (even with no other customers in sight), and with the middling quality. With the Chron's blessing now bestowed, maybe I'll give it one more shot.
Lime Tree, 6th and Irving. Cheap, sure, but not even worth the bargain price the several times I've stopped in. My heart breaks to write this, as the owner is the sweetest man in the Inner Sunset. Perhaps he's finally gotten it together, but I visited at least four times in its early days, each time coming away disappointed with the eternal wait for fairly straightforward food (even with no other customers in sight), and with the middling quality. With the Chron's blessing now bestowed, maybe I'll give it one more shot.
6/25/07
Review: Good Earth Cuisine
The happiest person on Earth right now might be Harry Pariser, the apartment dweller on 9th Avenue in the Inner Sunset who for years waged a lonely war of signage against the Burger King on the ground floor of his building.
As he has noted on his Web page, his nemesis is gone. It's unclear what he thinks about the new tenant, which he describes as an "organic bison burger joint," Good Earth Cuisine. It's still fast food but with a friendlier face: in fact, the logo looks like a cynical mishmash of eco-feelgoodism and Starbucks. Good Earth makes bison burgers, yes, as well as turkey and salmon versions. It also serves wraps, breakfast burritos, salads, minestrone soup, and a few dinner entrees.
Of course, I had the bison burger. Topped with tomato, lettuce, and a dollop of aioli, and served with a simple, generous and perfectly-dressed side salad, it was $7 and excellent.
Fanch had the grilled chicken and asparagus served with a caprese salad, $10. Like the bison burger, it was no more or less than advertised: fresh ingredients (as far as we could tell), cooked with a minimum of fuss and sauce, and quite tasty. Nothing you couldn't make at home, but as long as the price is right, I don't mind paying for a competent meal.
One caveat: the restaurant presents itself as calorie/carb/diet-conscious, going as far as to offer books and videos that espouse the "Zone" method, yet another of the diet fads I've tried to ignore over the years. It's not quite culty, but the restaurant's ponderous raison d'etre paragraph inside the menu offered dubious health info (calorie restriction is not a scientifically proven method to increase longevity, unless you're a mouse), and the counter guy, who would answer every "thank you" with "You're very welcome," was far too cheerful.
I chewed with some suspicion -- was this all to throw Harry Pariser off-balance before he realizes that "good earth" food also sends stinky cooking fumes into his apartment? We'll keep an eye on his apartment window for signs of discontent.
As he has noted on his Web page, his nemesis is gone. It's unclear what he thinks about the new tenant, which he describes as an "organic bison burger joint," Good Earth Cuisine. It's still fast food but with a friendlier face: in fact, the logo looks like a cynical mishmash of eco-feelgoodism and Starbucks. Good Earth makes bison burgers, yes, as well as turkey and salmon versions. It also serves wraps, breakfast burritos, salads, minestrone soup, and a few dinner entrees.
Of course, I had the bison burger. Topped with tomato, lettuce, and a dollop of aioli, and served with a simple, generous and perfectly-dressed side salad, it was $7 and excellent.
Fanch had the grilled chicken and asparagus served with a caprese salad, $10. Like the bison burger, it was no more or less than advertised: fresh ingredients (as far as we could tell), cooked with a minimum of fuss and sauce, and quite tasty. Nothing you couldn't make at home, but as long as the price is right, I don't mind paying for a competent meal.
One caveat: the restaurant presents itself as calorie/carb/diet-conscious, going as far as to offer books and videos that espouse the "Zone" method, yet another of the diet fads I've tried to ignore over the years. It's not quite culty, but the restaurant's ponderous raison d'etre paragraph inside the menu offered dubious health info (calorie restriction is not a scientifically proven method to increase longevity, unless you're a mouse), and the counter guy, who would answer every "thank you" with "You're very welcome," was far too cheerful.
I chewed with some suspicion -- was this all to throw Harry Pariser off-balance before he realizes that "good earth" food also sends stinky cooking fumes into his apartment? We'll keep an eye on his apartment window for signs of discontent.
5/31/07
Review: A Place Where We Can Be Free
It's cause for celebration, or at least moderate excitement, when another decent place to eat opens in the far western precincts. I don't expect fine dining out here; as you know, I'm way more into quality cheap eats anyway. That's why I was happy to discover The Pizza Place On Noriega, an as-yet-signless outpost on the corner of 46th Avenue, just down the block from La Playa Taqueria. It's only two weeks old.
I was greeted by a sturdy blonde wooden bar near the front door, and was handed a paper menu from a cylinder sitting on it by one of the Place's two employees. One other person was waiting for pizza; the rest of the place was empty, save for someone painting one of the bathrooms. The menu didn't say there were slices available, but there were: $2.50 for cheese, plus 50¢ for the first topping and a quarter apiece for the rest. Combo deals as usual; whole pies start around $15.
I ordered a Greek slice (homeboy!), and five minutes later I received what amounted to a thin-crust slice of pizza with a small Greek side salad piled on top (olives, red onions, whole basil leaves, feta). The crust had an audible crunch to it, and the tomato sauce mingled tart and sweet elements. Best of all, they didn't overdo the queso.
I liked it so much that I stayed for another slice with pepperoni. This one was a little greasier, but still satisfying. I chose the knife-and-fork strategy for both, and if I could recommend one thing to the Place, I'd ask them to get sharper knives.
The Place is big enough to seat about 30 patrons at once. They've got about four or five microbrew beers on tap, plus a couple more in bottles and cans; there's also a very short list of red and white wines, and salads and buffalo wings are on the menu as well. It took awhile to get two slices of carry-out pizza (for my roommate), but he was pleased with the results.
I'd compare the pie with that of Pizzetta 211, but the Place is going for something a little more populist. It's still a weird enough joint that it fits right into the Outer Sunset, but I'm definitely looking forward to future meals there.
I was greeted by a sturdy blonde wooden bar near the front door, and was handed a paper menu from a cylinder sitting on it by one of the Place's two employees. One other person was waiting for pizza; the rest of the place was empty, save for someone painting one of the bathrooms. The menu didn't say there were slices available, but there were: $2.50 for cheese, plus 50¢ for the first topping and a quarter apiece for the rest. Combo deals as usual; whole pies start around $15.
I ordered a Greek slice (homeboy!), and five minutes later I received what amounted to a thin-crust slice of pizza with a small Greek side salad piled on top (olives, red onions, whole basil leaves, feta). The crust had an audible crunch to it, and the tomato sauce mingled tart and sweet elements. Best of all, they didn't overdo the queso.
I liked it so much that I stayed for another slice with pepperoni. This one was a little greasier, but still satisfying. I chose the knife-and-fork strategy for both, and if I could recommend one thing to the Place, I'd ask them to get sharper knives.
The Place is big enough to seat about 30 patrons at once. They've got about four or five microbrew beers on tap, plus a couple more in bottles and cans; there's also a very short list of red and white wines, and salads and buffalo wings are on the menu as well. It took awhile to get two slices of carry-out pizza (for my roommate), but he was pleased with the results.
I'd compare the pie with that of Pizzetta 211, but the Place is going for something a little more populist. It's still a weird enough joint that it fits right into the Outer Sunset, but I'm definitely looking forward to future meals there.
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