7/23/07
Fish, Your Wish V
Meanwhile, the saga of the tamago vs. the sashimi and whatnot continues. Turns out that the wealthy big shots wolfing down as much fish flesh as their expense accounts can cover are skewing the demographics for mercury poisoning. Sheesh.
Fish, Your Wish IV
Simply going with wild-caught fish won't let you off the hook. The last two weeks we've bought the wild-caught red snapper at TJ's, but I just looked it up on the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch guide: depending on where the red snapper is caught, it might be best to avoid it. I've added the guide to our link list on the right.
A few other fish commonly found at TJs or other outlets:
* Tilapia. Make sure it's farm-raised in the U.S.
* Salmon: Wild-caught good, farmed bad.
* Mahi-mahi: I was surprised -- it's generally OK to eat, sustainability-wise.
A few other fish commonly found at TJs or other outlets:
* Tilapia. Make sure it's farm-raised in the U.S.
* Salmon: Wild-caught good, farmed bad.
* Mahi-mahi: I was surprised -- it's generally OK to eat, sustainability-wise.
7/18/07
Fish, Your Wish III
So glad the word's gotten out. Here’s the story on the front page of today’s WSJ (subscription required):
> African waters are losing fish stock rapidly, with ramifications both to the economies of Africa's coastal nations and to the world's ocean ecology. Over the past three decades, the amount of fish in West African waters has declined by up to 50%, according to Daniel Pauly, a researcher at the University of British Columbia.
The Mauritanian locals can’t compete with the big trawlers, which have depleted the stocks in their home regions.
If you can’t read the story, let me know in a polite comment and I’ll email it to you.
> African waters are losing fish stock rapidly, with ramifications both to the economies of Africa's coastal nations and to the world's ocean ecology. Over the past three decades, the amount of fish in West African waters has declined by up to 50%, according to Daniel Pauly, a researcher at the University of British Columbia.
The Mauritanian locals can’t compete with the big trawlers, which have depleted the stocks in their home regions.
If you can’t read the story, let me know in a polite comment and I’ll email it to you.
7/17/07
¡Fuñeta! Qué Tacos!
Y’all may recall that I’ve been visiting the taco truck that parks next to the old Standard brick building on Pacific near Sansome. I’d be happy to supply a new review, but time and other constraints are impinging -- like the fact that they raised their taco prices 33% just yesterday.
Yes, I was one of those price-sensitive affluents (a mind-blowing marketing term that explains why there are BMWs in Wal-Mart parking lots) that loaded up on three kinds of tacos for $4.50, with some pickled jalapeños and fresh radishes and cut lime to boot. The quality is still pretty excellent; my grilled chicken was toothsome without being way too dry, and the spice is right. But now these puppies are $2 each. (Burrito prices stayed the same. How izzat?)
Is it rising corn and produce prices? Gas, cooking fuel or tolls? Doth I complain too much? For now, I’m lumping it.
Yes, I was one of those price-sensitive affluents (a mind-blowing marketing term that explains why there are BMWs in Wal-Mart parking lots) that loaded up on three kinds of tacos for $4.50, with some pickled jalapeños and fresh radishes and cut lime to boot. The quality is still pretty excellent; my grilled chicken was toothsome without being way too dry, and the spice is right. But now these puppies are $2 each. (Burrito prices stayed the same. How izzat?)
Is it rising corn and produce prices? Gas, cooking fuel or tolls? Doth I complain too much? For now, I’m lumping it.
Whatevertini
Call me hypocritical, call me contrarian -- call me a cab! Especially when the topic comes to martinis. With all my grousing about philistines who ask if I want my martini on the rocks, and my loathing for apple-, mango-, and chocotinis, I'll admit that I've started straying from the righteous path. I put a lemon twist in my martinis. Sometimes the bitter medicine of the gin and the long-marinating brine of the olives need a little pick-me-up, something sunny at the end of a foggy summer day. Is that so wrong?
7/15/07
Fish, Your Wish II
There seems to be a boomlet in writing about sushi going on. In addition to the Slate piece Anthony blogged about a few days ago, the New York Times today had not one, not two, but — count them — three op-ed pieces about sushi.
The Sushi for Two piece, which advocates that Americans rediscover both the culinary and social meanings of sushi, reminds me of the Sushi Eating How-To — recommended reading for both beginning and more advanced practitioners.
The Sushi for Two piece, which advocates that Americans rediscover both the culinary and social meanings of sushi, reminds me of the Sushi Eating How-To — recommended reading for both beginning and more advanced practitioners.
7/13/07
Look Who's Back
Our old Pizzetta friend Tamar has resurfaced, according to this Chron column. Was she cheesemaking in Vermont this whole time? We must go visit and ask. She's executive chef of Socha a new cafe in the Mission/Bernal Heights area, near the Safeway. Note: the article calls Pizzetta a "cult favorite."
7/10/07
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.
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.
7/9/07
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.
7/1/07
Recipe: Tortilla Casserole
After a few weeks of too much of good things that are wonderful, I am downsizing a bit. It's sometimes easier on weekends to space out two meals where there would ordinarily be three, with the shift in schedules, busy work such as errands and countless snacking opportunities (such as grabbing dim sum while doing errands).
Consider the early supper of last night, which I've memorized out of the Moosewood cookbook. (Which begs the question, is there still life for Moosewood in this post-Alice Waters, Batali-Boulud-Bourdain period? You could even remake the Billy Joel song these days: "Charlie Parker, Rachael Ray, Emeril and Bobby Flay, watch Iron Chef." Something like that. Elbo?)
Start with a sauté of fine-chopped onions and garlic in a cast-iron skillet, and add a handful of diced peppers; spicy ones are fine. Season with salt, pepper, oregano and some chili powder if you like. Then throw in two or three chopped tomatoes of any color and let them soften up. Kill the heat and stir in some tortilla strips -- basically 10 corn tortillas cut into half-inch lengths -- and pour in half a pint of half and half. (The recipe calls for heavy cream, but I balk at the heavy cream.) Top it with some Parmesan or any dry cheese you can grate, and pop the whole thing into a 375-degree oven for 30 minutes.
After a half-hour, retop with a little shredded jack or cheddar and let that melt for four or five minutes more. Then pull it out and let it sit a bit while you warm the plates. Cut quarter pieces out with a metal spatula (no bending), and garnish with salsa. Enjoy.
Consider the early supper of last night, which I've memorized out of the Moosewood cookbook. (Which begs the question, is there still life for Moosewood in this post-Alice Waters, Batali-Boulud-Bourdain period? You could even remake the Billy Joel song these days: "Charlie Parker, Rachael Ray, Emeril and Bobby Flay, watch Iron Chef." Something like that. Elbo?)
Start with a sauté of fine-chopped onions and garlic in a cast-iron skillet, and add a handful of diced peppers; spicy ones are fine. Season with salt, pepper, oregano and some chili powder if you like. Then throw in two or three chopped tomatoes of any color and let them soften up. Kill the heat and stir in some tortilla strips -- basically 10 corn tortillas cut into half-inch lengths -- and pour in half a pint of half and half. (The recipe calls for heavy cream, but I balk at the heavy cream.) Top it with some Parmesan or any dry cheese you can grate, and pop the whole thing into a 375-degree oven for 30 minutes.
After a half-hour, retop with a little shredded jack or cheddar and let that melt for four or five minutes more. Then pull it out and let it sit a bit while you warm the plates. Cut quarter pieces out with a metal spatula (no bending), and garnish with salsa. Enjoy.
6/28/07
Perennial Wheat
The current ish of Gourmet has a fantastic article on the perennial-wheat movement, a group of agri-scientists, anthropologists and enviromentalists looking to bring back ancient wheat crops -- without genetic engineering.
Why perennial? Annual crops, which dominate big-agro wheat, die every year, and that means vast amounts of soil erosion, leading to problems such as the great dead zone of the Gulf of Mexico off the Louisiana coast.
The story text isn't online, but epicurious.com posted a Q&A here with the article's author Steven Johnson. The Q&A itself is a must-read. Yes, that Steven Johnson, who usually writes about high-tech and social/cultural trends and histories. Great writer, great thinker, and a great assignment by Gourmet. I'm happy to photocopy the Gourmet piece for those who want.
What does it say about the spread of eco-consciousness when one of America's oldest recipe mags runs a piece that argues for a complete change in our wheat production?
Why perennial? Annual crops, which dominate big-agro wheat, die every year, and that means vast amounts of soil erosion, leading to problems such as the great dead zone of the Gulf of Mexico off the Louisiana coast.
The story text isn't online, but epicurious.com posted a Q&A here with the article's author Steven Johnson. The Q&A itself is a must-read. Yes, that Steven Johnson, who usually writes about high-tech and social/cultural trends and histories. Great writer, great thinker, and a great assignment by Gourmet. I'm happy to photocopy the Gourmet piece for those who want.
What does it say about the spread of eco-consciousness when one of America's oldest recipe mags runs a piece that argues for a complete change in our wheat production?
6/26/07
What's Cooking?
Also, feel free to send me quick hits for the "What's Cooking?" box on the right. As you might have noticed, I don't change it very often, so if you're inspired by what you've just whipped up, or out, e-mail it to me and I'll post it.
6/25/07
Links?
Bistrovians, I wouldn't mind more food links for the right-hand margin. Any and all suggestions most welcome. Same goes for "inedibles" -- which I'd like to limit to our little community's own non-food endeavors. Don't be shy.
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.
6/18/07
Cocinando en San Carlos
With my folks at their place in the Peninsula and Kristen's folks out and about on day trips, I got a chance to be the true mensch and help my mom make the Puerto Rican food last Sunday afternoon. I swing down in the mean machine loaded with some goodies and in short order pull my shirt off, pop open a Bud Light and get busy as sous chef.
First I brown some ripe plantain rounds in butter, and when that's done add quite a bit of brown sugar and water. Then we spice with cinnamon and cloves, and once that reduces 20 minutes later, it's topped off with a cut-up green apple. Diabetics, beware the amarillitos con manzana.
While all this is going on, some very thin slices of pancetta (Primo Taglio from Safeway, awesome packing job) are sizzling in the bottom of a big Dutch oven. Those come out and seasoned parts of a bird are brought out of ziplock bags to get browned in batches. Then the sofrito goes in with a bit of tomato sauce. Then the rice (Uncle Ben's) cascades for its turn in the hot oil, and finally the bird and lots of water. An hour later or so, we have arroz con pollo.
With a little more pancetta and sofrito I start the base for the beans, which this time are just canned pintos from Safeway. Mom softens up some cubes of butternut squash in a separate pot and throws them in. After some requisite boiling, we have the usual debate on the salt. I defer to the expert.
Later I soften up some asparagus spears and run off the water. As Kristen spins romaine leaves in a spinner, Mom takes the crispy pancetta and crumbles it on the asparagus. I love that touch.
So for a late lunch we have arroz con pollo, amarillitos, habichuelas guisadas, aspárragos y ensalada. I have seconds and finish Kristen's plate.
The next day, I wake up feeling a little full. I stick to soup and salad.
First I brown some ripe plantain rounds in butter, and when that's done add quite a bit of brown sugar and water. Then we spice with cinnamon and cloves, and once that reduces 20 minutes later, it's topped off with a cut-up green apple. Diabetics, beware the amarillitos con manzana.
While all this is going on, some very thin slices of pancetta (Primo Taglio from Safeway, awesome packing job) are sizzling in the bottom of a big Dutch oven. Those come out and seasoned parts of a bird are brought out of ziplock bags to get browned in batches. Then the sofrito goes in with a bit of tomato sauce. Then the rice (Uncle Ben's) cascades for its turn in the hot oil, and finally the bird and lots of water. An hour later or so, we have arroz con pollo.
With a little more pancetta and sofrito I start the base for the beans, which this time are just canned pintos from Safeway. Mom softens up some cubes of butternut squash in a separate pot and throws them in. After some requisite boiling, we have the usual debate on the salt. I defer to the expert.
Later I soften up some asparagus spears and run off the water. As Kristen spins romaine leaves in a spinner, Mom takes the crispy pancetta and crumbles it on the asparagus. I love that touch.
So for a late lunch we have arroz con pollo, amarillitos, habichuelas guisadas, aspárragos y ensalada. I have seconds and finish Kristen's plate.
The next day, I wake up feeling a little full. I stick to soup and salad.
6/17/07
Eureka! Apricots of Yore!
Like me, my friend Sam is a lifelong Californian. Like me and, I suspect, many lifelong Californians 50 and over, Sam had given up on ever tasting a ripe apricot again. When I was a kid, tree-ripened apricots were as much a part of summer as riding bikes to swim in the municipal plunge every day or taking turns cranking the ice cream freezer in the backyard. These sweet, jammy gems were second only to ripe figs for what I later came to realize was vaginal lusciousness. They disappeared, as best I can recall, in the early 70s, mainly, I suspect, because markets grew more and more distant from sources. A ripe apricot is difficult to ship, so they're picked green and hard. Unfortunately, unlike peaches, apricots don't ripen after they're picked.
Like an obsessive birder set on finding a nesting pair of ivory-billed woodpeckers, I kept hope alive, searching down the decades: farmers markets, expensive boutique groceries, Napa Valley fruitstands. Nothing came close. When Sam called last Saturday morning, the urgency in his terse message was unmistakable: "Alemany Farmers Market. South row, far west end. Apricots of yore. Hurry!"
I drove down immediately and ran into Sam. He pointed to the stand and instructed, "Ask for a sample. They'll give you a whole one." I did, they did, and I bought 2 pounds. Yesterday, I bought 6 pounds. Forgot the price. Who cares?
I don't believe in hoarding treasure. And so I am obliged to report Sam's historic rediscovery. I apologize for my delay, since apricot season comes early in the summer and does not linger. The Alemany wonders are from Modesto. And they're also a variety called "Modesto," a distinction that both amused the farmer selling them and made him proud. As he deserves to be.
For eating fresh, choose the soft, even mushy, ones. For baking, any will do. Store in the reefer, but do not eat them cold; God's in his heaven...all's right with the world!
Like an obsessive birder set on finding a nesting pair of ivory-billed woodpeckers, I kept hope alive, searching down the decades: farmers markets, expensive boutique groceries, Napa Valley fruitstands. Nothing came close. When Sam called last Saturday morning, the urgency in his terse message was unmistakable: "Alemany Farmers Market. South row, far west end. Apricots of yore. Hurry!"
I drove down immediately and ran into Sam. He pointed to the stand and instructed, "Ask for a sample. They'll give you a whole one." I did, they did, and I bought 2 pounds. Yesterday, I bought 6 pounds. Forgot the price. Who cares?
I don't believe in hoarding treasure. And so I am obliged to report Sam's historic rediscovery. I apologize for my delay, since apricot season comes early in the summer and does not linger. The Alemany wonders are from Modesto. And they're also a variety called "Modesto," a distinction that both amused the farmer selling them and made him proud. As he deserves to be.
For eating fresh, choose the soft, even mushy, ones. For baking, any will do. Store in the reefer, but do not eat them cold; God's in his heaven...all's right with the world!
6/14/07
Review: Two Thai, Pre-Theater
Two quick Thai hits to add to our list of pre-theater options, both on Post.
1) Ar Roi, or perhaps Arroi. 643 Post between Taylor and Jones. Great space -- an old art-deco'ish long room with rather uncomfortable but stylish booths and curvy light fixtures. If you sit facing the street you look right up Shannon Alley and watch the posh crowd traipse in and out of Le Colonial. We ordered roast duck soup with thick rice noodles, veggies and tofu with ample ginger, and a grilled chicken. It was all quite serviceable, flavorful and reasonable, but with a bit more grease than some of us cared for. $30 for two. The better option is...
2) Thai Stick, 698 Post. I'm not sure if this is the original or the sequel to Thai Stick 2000 on the upper Fillmore. Their tom yum gai -- our litmus test for Thai restaurants -- was perfectly balanced between hot, sweet and sour, with lots of chicken. Other dishes which I don't quite remember were just fine and not as oily as Ar Roi. Thai Stick also serves brown rice, a nice change of pace.
1) Ar Roi, or perhaps Arroi. 643 Post between Taylor and Jones. Great space -- an old art-deco'ish long room with rather uncomfortable but stylish booths and curvy light fixtures. If you sit facing the street you look right up Shannon Alley and watch the posh crowd traipse in and out of Le Colonial. We ordered roast duck soup with thick rice noodles, veggies and tofu with ample ginger, and a grilled chicken. It was all quite serviceable, flavorful and reasonable, but with a bit more grease than some of us cared for. $30 for two. The better option is...
2) Thai Stick, 698 Post. I'm not sure if this is the original or the sequel to Thai Stick 2000 on the upper Fillmore. Their tom yum gai -- our litmus test for Thai restaurants -- was perfectly balanced between hot, sweet and sour, with lots of chicken. Other dishes which I don't quite remember were just fine and not as oily as Ar Roi. Thai Stick also serves brown rice, a nice change of pace.
6/13/07
Review: Taco Del Mar
I needed a quick hit before the Giants game. Instead of a sandwich, I stopped at Taco Del Mar on 2nd near Folsom. The meat selection was wanting: stewed chicken, stewed beef, carne asada, and ground beef. Chicken mole. Maybe some pork. No chile verde, no pollo asado. Weak. The chips were stale.
On the plus side: chopped cabbage was available in addition to lettuce. The homemade salsa was extra hot. Spinach and other tortilla flavors were available. The people were friendly. Could've been worse, especially since it's a chain that started in Seattle, according to this site. At least they're keeping it clean.
On the plus side: chopped cabbage was available in addition to lettuce. The homemade salsa was extra hot. Spinach and other tortilla flavors were available. The people were friendly. Could've been worse, especially since it's a chain that started in Seattle, according to this site. At least they're keeping it clean.
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