Greek to Me

Fleeing the fog and the Bay to Breakers mess (a disaster for the city environmentally and possibly lethal to anyone in alcoholic recovery), K and I headed to the South Bay to dip in a pool. Wading in the 80-plus degree heat, no clouds in the sky, Kristen tells me she wants some Greek food. I love it when she says "I want some Greek food."

Right before six we walk right in to Evvia, which I now realize is the Palo Alto sister to the a-little-stuffy Kokkari here in the city. No way I'd ever have wandered to the Jackson Square place in a shlightly shweaty T-shirt and faded black jeans, but by tucking it in I was making a gesture toward being presentable in Nerdsville. The hostess didn't even blink and sat us down straight away.

Quickly, the starters: lentil soup for the lady, grilled octopus with roasted red peppers and olives in a frisee salad for me. Fabulous, and a nice pairing to a dry glass of Santorini white. The main courses did not falter: souvlaki for K, and a grilled branzino with lemon, olive oil and braised greens for A -- A for Atkins.

The fish was perfectly cooked and delicious; never mind the bones when it's this good. But what are the greens, I asked, chard? No, said the Latino busser, es horta. What's horta? Well, the waiter elaborated, it's a spinach-like Mediterranean green that's grown on spec for the restaurant in Watsonville. Hot damn!

For dessert, we had the baklava, and this time it was done right.

Evvia and Kokkari ain't cheap, as everybody knows (about $50 a person), but the room is convivial, service is excellent and the kitchen knows what it serves and why. An excellent ending to a Sunday in the sun.

Aziza Night

K and I popped into our neighborhood destination restaurant for a couple of the seven seats at the bar for a little drink and bite. In the middle of doing two of the things we enjoy best and two of the things our friends enjoy best, inspiration strikes. But first the rundown:

Kristen has her glass of sparkling rosé. I start with the gin ginger, a typically Azizan concoction. Imagine categorizing your liquors, then pairing them with fruit or what have you that can be muddled or infused. My mix starts with muddled ginger and squirts of lemon/verbena, then a healthy pour of Beefeater and some simple syrup. It's iced, shaken, served. Delicious.

For the nosh, we share the usual delicacy, grilled flatbreads with spreads: roasted eggplant, yogurt dill and now chickpea, a novel variation. Feeling toothsome, I go for the sardines. They are arranged in a star patten in an enormous, round pasta plate, filleted and grilled, atop lentils, chopped peppers and fennel. I don't say a thing until I scoop up the very last dash.

So I'm making an executive decision: Alex and Jomo, mark your calendars and tell your sweethearts that I'm taking everybody out to dinner the weekend of Sept. 27-28. Table is for six. No excuses or contingencies. Final date is TK, and it'll be my treat.

Blue Fin?

We all know about the king of ska, but here we're talking about the end of the king of sushi. Take my word for it or take Bob Simon's, but the marketplace has to, has to push/pull back on the supply chain.

We don't need every other restaurant opening on Geary to serve raw fish. We will run out, without a doubt.

And poof! There was Plouf

On a warm October night under clear skies, serendipity and a touch of glamour enveloped Belden Place, the all-restaurant alley that serves up European fare in a seamless indoor/outdoor culinary experience unlike any other in San Francisco. Business dinner at Plouf with the crew from work yielded an impressive light entree of opakapaka, which if I heard the waiter correctly is a type of butterfish. A delicate parsnip cream was nestled underneath, with a handful of crispy fried parsnips draped on top. Taste and portion size hit the spot. We paired dinner with a bottle of sauvignon blanc for the four of us. (Thanks, boss.)

I was glad I didn't wuss out and get the ravioli. I'm not that adventurous when it comes to seafood, so very happy I didn't miss out on the butterfish dish's medley of flavors. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better my dessert choice had me practically licking the plate: Banana profiteroles! And none too syrupy to overpower the senses.

Wish we had a few more Belden Place-like alleys to choose from in these parts!

Best Cheap Lunch in San Francisco?

I used to tell myself back in 1980 (when I worked in downtown Nevada City for Crittenden Publishing) that what what my town needed more than anything was a good $3.00 lunch. Whudda guessed I'd find it 27 years later in San Francisco?

Zapata's at the northwest corner of 18th and Collingwood is a modest taqueria (a redundancy, I know, but a useful one) offering the usual fare, which no one needs me to list. Very rarely, the cook tapes a handwritten special on the spit guard separating the mostly illegal, no doubt, immigrant servers from their customers. This isn't the world's best taqueria, though I'd rate it above average. A weakness: its slim selection of salsas and no cut limes.

A major strength: The fish taco. These are much more generous and flavorful than the standard San Francisco specimen. Can't tell you what it is, but the main ingredient, cooked to order right in front of you on the always-sizzling griddle, is white, fresh, firm-fleshed but somewhat flaky, and remarkably flavorful. Your choice, natch, of black, pinto, or refried beans and either mild or spicy salsa. You can also choose between regular and super, which adds -- unnecessarily in my opinion -- guacamole, sour cream, and maybe cheese. I always order black, spicy, reg. The unusual and impressively successful ingredient Zapata adds to its signature fish taco is fresh mushrooms, a lot of them, griddled along with the fish.

A single regular fish taco comes with a little rectangular paper box of fresh corn chips. You can load up with roasted tomato salsa, a raw radish or two, and easily call this lunch. Or at least I can. With free water, the midday meal comes in at $3.10.

I'm always satisfied, never tempted to have more, and go back regularly, as does Dan. There's no reason for this to be a secret. Tell everybody!

Your turn: Any other nominations for San Francisco's best cheap lunch?

Fish, Your Wish

Surfed over to a great piece on sushi today, and it's the proverbial food for thought.

Note how the people interviewed describe the cold-storage supply chain and how tuna belly is basically a luxury item -- you know, like gasoline.

Aquaculture could stave off the inevitable fin di la frutta di mare, letting the ocean's stocks recover, but I know I'm not alone in wondering whether wild salmon and snapper and whatnot are going to be gone in a generation or two. So what to do?

Maybe put our morals where our mouths are and save sushi for a special occasion once or twice a year. The marketplace has got to get the message somehow.