9/4/07
What's Cooking with You?
As I do every couple of months, I remind you all that the "What's Cooking" box at top right is open to guest chefs. When you're delighted with what you've just dished up, send me a paragraph and I'll post it.
9/3/07
Lazy Monday roundup
Weeks' worth of meals have come my way since I've come around, and instead of a roster or ingredients dossier, I have a few threads to put together, in no particular order.
Food is like music and like so many other things, in that some people spend an enormous around of time and energy crafting and harmonizing and others don't care if you get soggy fries with that. Forget about going on vacation: At the beginning and end of the last work week, I sipped at slow gin/Ramos fizz before lapping up the cioppino at Tadich (thanks to the gracious Jomo), and that was in every way a counterpoint to the crap I had at at Harrington's, which does not give a hoot if its salads or sandwiches are lousy or its fries are soggy, since you're drinking anyway. Funny how the average customer's income at both places is about the same. Just goes to show you can run a hedge fund, but your taste will forever be for shit.
What is it about a composed salad that is so hard to understand? Why is serving a simulacrum acceptable? Harrington's has no excuse for its lame-ass everything, being in San Francisco, but I felt particularly violated by a so-called Niçoise salad I had at a fancyish bar and grill in Easton, Pa. -- the Boston/Bibb lettuce pulled and plated wrong, the glaring omission of olives for God's sake, a piece of tuna that either was past its prime or proof that the grill needed cleaning. Because it smelled like armpit. Best thing about the bar and grill, a watering hole for big-shot lawyers and others working in the county courthouse and prison up the street, was the beer. $2 for local pints!
The setting was almost as sketchy and depressing in the Mission Saturday, on the block with the two small-plates-and-sangria drunk tanks. (We had a gift certificate.) Formally, this type of food makes no sense, and I'll save that rant for another post. First off, you can't tell the staff apart from the clientele. Am also glad someone took the trouble to get goopy cream into a squeeze bottle, but zigzagging it on black beans isn't impressive or appreciated anymore.
One of my favorite times at table over the recent period was when Kristen and I got gyros at a Greek diner in the town of Milford, Pa., on our stint away from the Lehigh Valley. The pita sandwiches came warm, wrapped they were in wax paper so that they stay hot and so that you can actually pick them up. The fries, for the record, were crispy crisp. These things are satisfying, and I can't think of an excuse for those who want to get by with less.
I want to wrap on another up note: We won over a couple of converts by bringing croissants from Schubert's over to brunch just earlier today at Alex and Emily's. A few minutes in the oven, and their savory flakiness (the pastries, not the hosts) resets perspective. You are what you say you eat.
Food is like music and like so many other things, in that some people spend an enormous around of time and energy crafting and harmonizing and others don't care if you get soggy fries with that. Forget about going on vacation: At the beginning and end of the last work week, I sipped at slow gin/Ramos fizz before lapping up the cioppino at Tadich (thanks to the gracious Jomo), and that was in every way a counterpoint to the crap I had at at Harrington's, which does not give a hoot if its salads or sandwiches are lousy or its fries are soggy, since you're drinking anyway. Funny how the average customer's income at both places is about the same. Just goes to show you can run a hedge fund, but your taste will forever be for shit.
What is it about a composed salad that is so hard to understand? Why is serving a simulacrum acceptable? Harrington's has no excuse for its lame-ass everything, being in San Francisco, but I felt particularly violated by a so-called Niçoise salad I had at a fancyish bar and grill in Easton, Pa. -- the Boston/Bibb lettuce pulled and plated wrong, the glaring omission of olives for God's sake, a piece of tuna that either was past its prime or proof that the grill needed cleaning. Because it smelled like armpit. Best thing about the bar and grill, a watering hole for big-shot lawyers and others working in the county courthouse and prison up the street, was the beer. $2 for local pints!
The setting was almost as sketchy and depressing in the Mission Saturday, on the block with the two small-plates-and-sangria drunk tanks. (We had a gift certificate.) Formally, this type of food makes no sense, and I'll save that rant for another post. First off, you can't tell the staff apart from the clientele. Am also glad someone took the trouble to get goopy cream into a squeeze bottle, but zigzagging it on black beans isn't impressive or appreciated anymore.
One of my favorite times at table over the recent period was when Kristen and I got gyros at a Greek diner in the town of Milford, Pa., on our stint away from the Lehigh Valley. The pita sandwiches came warm, wrapped they were in wax paper so that they stay hot and so that you can actually pick them up. The fries, for the record, were crispy crisp. These things are satisfying, and I can't think of an excuse for those who want to get by with less.
I want to wrap on another up note: We won over a couple of converts by bringing croissants from Schubert's over to brunch just earlier today at Alex and Emily's. A few minutes in the oven, and their savory flakiness (the pastries, not the hosts) resets perspective. You are what you say you eat.
8/31/07
Recipe: Lamb With Thyme and Orange Peel
I'm trying this one tonight, but subbing lemon-scented thyme for regular thyme.
8/25/07
Review: Mi Lindo Yucatan
It was the rare Saturday sit-down lunch without out-of-town guests or birthdays or any other excuse. Just the snap decision to cool our heels in the midst of errands, and upon a recommendation we stopped at Mi Lindo Yucatan on 24th between Castro and Noe. Not a hood often fêted for its Mexican food.
Start fêting. It was one of the best meals I've had all year. Mi Lindo Yucatan is not a taqueria, though they have tacos on the appetizer menu. It's a family-run restaurant, with iconic Mayan figures on the walls, a modest number of tables, and big windows that invite people-watching. (Alas, no sidewalk seating.)
Fanch and I split a veggie tamal to start. The cornmeal sheath was satisfyingly toothsome but light on the tongue. The veggie filling was uncomplicated, unspectacular, but fresh and tasty. The homemade salsas on the side were a subtle but welcome departure: the verde with a bit more smoke and pique than normal, and the rojo with a faintly sweet undercurrent.
My main was a grilled pork plate -- again, nothing complicated. Raw shredded cabbage, chopped radish, slices of avocado, a side of whole black beans, and a dollop of stewed tomato rounded out the plate, with a cloth napkin cozying three hot homemade tortillas, some of the best I've ever tasted. Served in large postage-stamp sized slices, the pork stayed juicy, lean and tender, no easy feat.
Emily had a spinach salad with mango, avo and grapefruit. For $2 extra she had an entire grilled chicken breast sliced atop. The chicken was tender, lightly spiced, and from the lingering whiff of char obviously cooked to order -- this was no precooked, presliced salad topping. I couldn't have made a better vinaigrette. With my bottomless glass of ice tea (fragrant with bergamot), the total bill came to $27.
The service was warm -- the older woman (Mom?) who ran the place and a younger woman (daughter?) split the table duties and beamed when I told them I would never eat store-bought tortillas again.
Start fêting. It was one of the best meals I've had all year. Mi Lindo Yucatan is not a taqueria, though they have tacos on the appetizer menu. It's a family-run restaurant, with iconic Mayan figures on the walls, a modest number of tables, and big windows that invite people-watching. (Alas, no sidewalk seating.)
Fanch and I split a veggie tamal to start. The cornmeal sheath was satisfyingly toothsome but light on the tongue. The veggie filling was uncomplicated, unspectacular, but fresh and tasty. The homemade salsas on the side were a subtle but welcome departure: the verde with a bit more smoke and pique than normal, and the rojo with a faintly sweet undercurrent.
My main was a grilled pork plate -- again, nothing complicated. Raw shredded cabbage, chopped radish, slices of avocado, a side of whole black beans, and a dollop of stewed tomato rounded out the plate, with a cloth napkin cozying three hot homemade tortillas, some of the best I've ever tasted. Served in large postage-stamp sized slices, the pork stayed juicy, lean and tender, no easy feat.
Emily had a spinach salad with mango, avo and grapefruit. For $2 extra she had an entire grilled chicken breast sliced atop. The chicken was tender, lightly spiced, and from the lingering whiff of char obviously cooked to order -- this was no precooked, presliced salad topping. I couldn't have made a better vinaigrette. With my bottomless glass of ice tea (fragrant with bergamot), the total bill came to $27.
The service was warm -- the older woman (Mom?) who ran the place and a younger woman (daughter?) split the table duties and beamed when I told them I would never eat store-bought tortillas again.
8/24/07
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?
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?
8/23/07
Recipe: Zucchini-and-Fennel Salad
This comes from the NYT mag, and it has a problem: sogginess. The finer you cut, slice, shave, or grate squash, the more water it releases. The writer, Daniel Patterson, alludes to this in the intro -- "One problem with squash is that it’s largely water, so my initial idea for a gratin prompted visions of a soggy mess" -- but the recipe itself has no such warning.
Zucchini-and-Fennel Salad With Pecorino and Mint
1 ¼ pounds zucchini
½ cup torn mint leaves
1 cup shaved aged pecorino Romano
1 small head fennel, cored and thinly shaved
Juice of 1 lemon, plus more as needed
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more as needed
Salt and freshly ground black pepper.
Use a vegetable peeler or mandoline to thinly shave the zucchini lengthwise. In a large bowl, toss together the zucchini, mint, pecorino Romano, fennel, lemon juice and olive oil. Season with salt and black pepper. Add more lemon juice or olive oil to taste. Serves 4.
We compounded the problem by grating the zucchini instead of using a mandoline (which we don't have) or vegetable peeler, but I would think the problem would remain even after using those instruments.
Other than the excess liquid at the bottom of the bowl, the salad was wonderful, a perfect balance of flavors. It begs the question, to which perhaps someone here has an answer: what's the best way to wring the water from the raw squash? Paper towels? Colander?
Zucchini-and-Fennel Salad With Pecorino and Mint
1 ¼ pounds zucchini
½ cup torn mint leaves
1 cup shaved aged pecorino Romano
1 small head fennel, cored and thinly shaved
Juice of 1 lemon, plus more as needed
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more as needed
Salt and freshly ground black pepper.
Use a vegetable peeler or mandoline to thinly shave the zucchini lengthwise. In a large bowl, toss together the zucchini, mint, pecorino Romano, fennel, lemon juice and olive oil. Season with salt and black pepper. Add more lemon juice or olive oil to taste. Serves 4.
We compounded the problem by grating the zucchini instead of using a mandoline (which we don't have) or vegetable peeler, but I would think the problem would remain even after using those instruments.
Other than the excess liquid at the bottom of the bowl, the salad was wonderful, a perfect balance of flavors. It begs the question, to which perhaps someone here has an answer: what's the best way to wring the water from the raw squash? Paper towels? Colander?
8/17/07
Recipe: Summer Eggplant Salad
On a rare warm Inner Sunset summer night, this recipe hit the spot, and it was the rare clip-job recipe that was spot-on. I wouldn't change a thing. One caveat: do not under any circumstances use cow's milk feta (such as Athenos -- disgusting). If it doesn't expressly say sheep's milk, walk on by.
In case you can't log in to the NY Times Web site, here's the recipe:
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 3/4 pounds eggplant (any kind, or a mixture), trimmed and cut into 1-inch chunks
3 ounces feta cheese, crumbled (about 2/3 cup)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon capers, chopped
1 pound mixed bell peppers, seeded and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves.
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Whisk together the oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper.
2. Toss eggplant with 1/3 cup vinaigrette, reserving the rest. Arrange on a baking sheet. Bake, tossing occasionally, until tender and golden around edges, about 30 minutes. Let eggplant cool somewhat. (It can be warm but not hot enough to melt feta or wilt mint.)
3. Whisk feta, garlic and capers into reserved vinaigrette. In a large bowl, combine eggplant, peppers, tomatoes and mint leaves. Toss with vinaigrette, and serve immediately or within several hours. (It holds up all day.)
Yield: 4 to 6 servings.
In case you can't log in to the NY Times Web site, here's the recipe:
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 3/4 pounds eggplant (any kind, or a mixture), trimmed and cut into 1-inch chunks
3 ounces feta cheese, crumbled (about 2/3 cup)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon capers, chopped
1 pound mixed bell peppers, seeded and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves.
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Whisk together the oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper.
2. Toss eggplant with 1/3 cup vinaigrette, reserving the rest. Arrange on a baking sheet. Bake, tossing occasionally, until tender and golden around edges, about 30 minutes. Let eggplant cool somewhat. (It can be warm but not hot enough to melt feta or wilt mint.)
3. Whisk feta, garlic and capers into reserved vinaigrette. In a large bowl, combine eggplant, peppers, tomatoes and mint leaves. Toss with vinaigrette, and serve immediately or within several hours. (It holds up all day.)
Yield: 4 to 6 servings.
8/8/07
El Bala$o
If it’s a Tuesday at about 8 and you’re in the Upper Haight, where the heck do you get a decent bite?
Three of us checked out a couple of places, including Citrus Club, which a little crowded, and we weren’t patient. (I’ve been there once, and can’t say I’m keen on another visit. Funky Thai, big whoop.) We settled on El Balazo, which was nearly empty, and I think I know why.
The cheapest burritos, for example, can be had for more than $7 with the tax. They’ve got pretty basic plates (two tacos with rice, beans and tortillas) for about $10. I even remember some dinners going for more. Or maybe I just remember being ticked.
I ended up getting two tacos (shredded beef, chicken en mole) for $6 -- no beans, because those cost extra here. The tacos were good, and the signature side of cabbage salad is always nice. But $6?
The rents on Haight must skyrocket every year; one look at the food board at Balazo and you know they’ve been jacking up prices with some regularity.
I can get two friggin’ huge, knockout, fresh-grilled tacos on the Embarcadero for Christ’s sake for less than $5, stuffed with meats and beans and very hot pico de gallo, which is usually called salsa. The salsa bar is also better at Pancho Villa at Pier 1, with roasted jalapeños, not just the pickled ones.
I’ve no real beef with ripping off tourists or kids who don’t know any better. If the only reasonably priced foods a business district can offer are pizza slices, though, let me be among those who say gracias, pero no gracias.
Three of us checked out a couple of places, including Citrus Club, which a little crowded, and we weren’t patient. (I’ve been there once, and can’t say I’m keen on another visit. Funky Thai, big whoop.) We settled on El Balazo, which was nearly empty, and I think I know why.
The cheapest burritos, for example, can be had for more than $7 with the tax. They’ve got pretty basic plates (two tacos with rice, beans and tortillas) for about $10. I even remember some dinners going for more. Or maybe I just remember being ticked.
I ended up getting two tacos (shredded beef, chicken en mole) for $6 -- no beans, because those cost extra here. The tacos were good, and the signature side of cabbage salad is always nice. But $6?
The rents on Haight must skyrocket every year; one look at the food board at Balazo and you know they’ve been jacking up prices with some regularity.
I can get two friggin’ huge, knockout, fresh-grilled tacos on the Embarcadero for Christ’s sake for less than $5, stuffed with meats and beans and very hot pico de gallo, which is usually called salsa. The salsa bar is also better at Pancho Villa at Pier 1, with roasted jalapeños, not just the pickled ones.
I’ve no real beef with ripping off tourists or kids who don’t know any better. If the only reasonably priced foods a business district can offer are pizza slices, though, let me be among those who say gracias, pero no gracias.
8/6/07
Mixology
1-1/2 oz. Tanqueray Rangpur gin3/4 oz. Campari
3/4 oz. Villa Italia blood orange soda from Trader Joe's
Shake with ice, and serve up.
I came up with this on Friday night. It's descended from the Negroni; I'm starting to think that any drink that's one-third sweet vermouth needs a tweak. I even put a shake of Angostura bitters in there just to see how it would work alongside the Campari, but it wasn't necessary. This is a summertime drink best served very cold on a warm evening. It works as an apertif. Pair with something by Lee Morgan.
The Tanqueray Rangpur probably works in a G&T, but it's not Martini material; I guess you could work with it in a Gimlet too. Inessential in your liquor cabinet.
Name my drink?
More Flapjacks, Please
The Fanch reports:
It's only recently I've become a more confident flapjack flipper. For years, I felt that I couldn't really master pancakes. Too thick, too thin. Doughy and raw inside. Or leaden and one-note.
But in the past year, I've learned the trick: separating and beating the egg whites. A recipe from Alex's Aunt Dena for orange souffle ricotta pancakes turned me on to the power of whipping egg whites to loamy peaks before folding them gentle into the batter. Dina's are citrusy and light, but also creamy from the ricotta.
This weekend, we had another success with a buckwheat batter mix from Bette's Dinner in Berkeley, which also called for the egg trick. We also added blueberries to the batter for color and flavor, and topped the perfect pancakes with strawberries and peaches. Easy and delish.
It's only recently I've become a more confident flapjack flipper. For years, I felt that I couldn't really master pancakes. Too thick, too thin. Doughy and raw inside. Or leaden and one-note.
But in the past year, I've learned the trick: separating and beating the egg whites. A recipe from Alex's Aunt Dena for orange souffle ricotta pancakes turned me on to the power of whipping egg whites to loamy peaks before folding them gentle into the batter. Dina's are citrusy and light, but also creamy from the ricotta.
This weekend, we had another success with a buckwheat batter mix from Bette's Dinner in Berkeley, which also called for the egg trick. We also added blueberries to the batter for color and flavor, and topped the perfect pancakes with strawberries and peaches. Easy and delish.
Review: Buy Me Some Bi-Rite
The Fanch reports:
We had quite the foodie weekend with our visitors from NY, Hillary and Kofi. We started out chez Bistro Hugo Friday evening, where we whipped up a sensational meal culled from the fruits of Roz's garden.
A tangy, light cucumber, avocado and heirloom tomato salad laced with cilantro and grapeseed-oil vinaigrette accompanied a hearty roasted-green-eggplant-and-sausage sugo over whole-wheat pasta.
The next morning, we were ready for more indulgence, heading off to the Farmer's Market for an orgy of fruit, from green figs to soft-ball-sized peaches. But a highlight, in addition to our Bodega Bistro experience, outlined by Alex below, was Saturday evening's dessert.
At Dan Becker's urging, we decided to try Bi-Rite Creamery, the new ice cream shop on 18th off Dolores, a block that already had an embarrassment of culinary riches before its latest addition opened.
Inside the brightly lit, compact store we found alluring flavors, from honey-lavender to salted caramel. We tasted a few and made our strategic choices: balsamic strawberry, coffee toffee and chai-laced milk chocolate. All winners. Good thing the pints cost $7.99. Otherwise, I would have been tempted to take some of this divine dairy home.
We had quite the foodie weekend with our visitors from NY, Hillary and Kofi. We started out chez Bistro Hugo Friday evening, where we whipped up a sensational meal culled from the fruits of Roz's garden.
A tangy, light cucumber, avocado and heirloom tomato salad laced with cilantro and grapeseed-oil vinaigrette accompanied a hearty roasted-green-eggplant-and-sausage sugo over whole-wheat pasta.
The next morning, we were ready for more indulgence, heading off to the Farmer's Market for an orgy of fruit, from green figs to soft-ball-sized peaches. But a highlight, in addition to our Bodega Bistro experience, outlined by Alex below, was Saturday evening's dessert.
At Dan Becker's urging, we decided to try Bi-Rite Creamery, the new ice cream shop on 18th off Dolores, a block that already had an embarrassment of culinary riches before its latest addition opened.
Inside the brightly lit, compact store we found alluring flavors, from honey-lavender to salted caramel. We tasted a few and made our strategic choices: balsamic strawberry, coffee toffee and chai-laced milk chocolate. All winners. Good thing the pints cost $7.99. Otherwise, I would have been tempted to take some of this divine dairy home.
Review: Bodega Bistro
I'll keep it short: Best Viet food I've had in San Francisco and perhaps the best meal I've had all year. The best dish among many was the roast squab appetizer, served atop caramelized onions and golden raisins and with a salty lemon pepper dipping sauce on the side. Bonus points that they serve it with the head and claws for the adventurous to gnaw.
Also delicious: the papaya salad, tossed by the waiter at the table, which saves it from the typical papaya-salad fate of getting too mushy; the roast pork and vermicelli (bun) with lettuce leaf wrap; and the three-kinds-of-beef pho, with a broth that was rich but not greasy.
Also delicious: the papaya salad, tossed by the waiter at the table, which saves it from the typical papaya-salad fate of getting too mushy; the roast pork and vermicelli (bun) with lettuce leaf wrap; and the three-kinds-of-beef pho, with a broth that was rich but not greasy.
8/1/07
The Way We Eat Now
Propagandists in general need no extra megaphones, but I know and appreciate good agitprop when I see it. Here's the latest from Michael Jacobson from the Center for Science in the Public Interest, in my junk-mail pile: foods you should never eat. He underlined it. Because he means it.
Try his "Angioplasta: Ruby Tuesday's Fresh Chicken & Broccoli Pasta." Funny, it doesn't sound that bad. It has fresh ingredients, pasta is light and broccoli is supposed to be this miracle food, right?
Check the full description: "Fresh, pulled white-meat chicken, fresh steamed broccoli and penne pasta tossed in Parmesan cream sauce, then baked." The dish has 2,060 calories and 128 total grams of fat -- which Jacobson calls the equivalent of "two sirloin-steak dinners with Caesar salad and buttered baked potato." Italics are mine. Because I love Caesar salad.
Would you like something for dessert? There are a couple of good ones here: a Mint Chip Dazzler at Häagen Dazs, and the Cheesecake Factory's 6 Carb Cheesecake.
The Mint Chip thing has three scoops of ice cream, hot fudge, Oreos, chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream, adding up to 1,270 calories and 38 grams of saturated fat. Jacobson says this is like a T-bone steak dinner with Caesar salad and baked potato with sour cream.
Maybe you should go for the low-carb cheesecake. One piece has 610 calories and 29 grams of saturated fat, which Dr. J (he says he has a Ph.D.) equates to eight ounces of prime rib. No salad or starch, though.
You wonder why we're going to hell as fat as cows. Keep the diet diatribes coming!
Try his "Angioplasta: Ruby Tuesday's Fresh Chicken & Broccoli Pasta." Funny, it doesn't sound that bad. It has fresh ingredients, pasta is light and broccoli is supposed to be this miracle food, right?
Check the full description: "Fresh, pulled white-meat chicken, fresh steamed broccoli and penne pasta tossed in Parmesan cream sauce, then baked." The dish has 2,060 calories and 128 total grams of fat -- which Jacobson calls the equivalent of "two sirloin-steak dinners with Caesar salad and buttered baked potato." Italics are mine. Because I love Caesar salad.
Would you like something for dessert? There are a couple of good ones here: a Mint Chip Dazzler at Häagen Dazs, and the Cheesecake Factory's 6 Carb Cheesecake.
The Mint Chip thing has three scoops of ice cream, hot fudge, Oreos, chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream, adding up to 1,270 calories and 38 grams of saturated fat. Jacobson says this is like a T-bone steak dinner with Caesar salad and baked potato with sour cream.
Maybe you should go for the low-carb cheesecake. One piece has 610 calories and 29 grams of saturated fat, which Dr. J (he says he has a Ph.D.) equates to eight ounces of prime rib. No salad or starch, though.
You wonder why we're going to hell as fat as cows. Keep the diet diatribes coming!
7/30/07
Review: Papalote
May I suggest a tag line: "The Taqueria for People Who Don't Like Taquerias."
Alternately: "We Should Have Gone to La Corneta."
The homemade salsa was as good as advertised. Everything else was crap, from the one-tortilla tacos (two per taco is standard to prevent disintegration), to my dull chile verde, to Fanch's grilled chicken plate (dry rice, dry tough chicken, only two tortillas on the side), to the absence of a DIY salsa and chip bar (though there was a help-yourself jar of jalapenos by the register).
Here's the ultimate insult: I wasn't allowed to order two tacos with a different meat in each. Two tacos per order, and only one meat choice. "But I want to try two different meats," I said. "Then you have to order four tacos," was the reply. Complete, utter, unprecedented bullshit.
I should have known. Always be suspicious of a taqueria with no Latinos at the tables. Skinny white girls with $200 jeans who eat taqueria food with a knife and fork do not generally make for knowledgeable patrons. Call me judgmental.
Alternately: "We Should Have Gone to La Corneta."
The homemade salsa was as good as advertised. Everything else was crap, from the one-tortilla tacos (two per taco is standard to prevent disintegration), to my dull chile verde, to Fanch's grilled chicken plate (dry rice, dry tough chicken, only two tortillas on the side), to the absence of a DIY salsa and chip bar (though there was a help-yourself jar of jalapenos by the register).
Here's the ultimate insult: I wasn't allowed to order two tacos with a different meat in each. Two tacos per order, and only one meat choice. "But I want to try two different meats," I said. "Then you have to order four tacos," was the reply. Complete, utter, unprecedented bullshit.
I should have known. Always be suspicious of a taqueria with no Latinos at the tables. Skinny white girls with $200 jeans who eat taqueria food with a knife and fork do not generally make for knowledgeable patrons. Call me judgmental.
Headline of the Week
"Arroz con Caca," in the SF Weekly. Here's La Rondalla's glowing grade of 49 from the city's Department of Public Health. Yuck.
7/29/07
Recipe: Plum Berry Crisp
This was the hit of our dinner last night. Here's the recipe, but La Chef de la Fanche makes a couple notes:
* Added lemon zest and grated ginger to the fruit mix before putting it in the oven.
* The recipe calls for a little too much butter, which keeps the top of the crisp from getting crisp.
* Serve with vanilla ice cream.
* Added lemon zest and grated ginger to the fruit mix before putting it in the oven.
* The recipe calls for a little too much butter, which keeps the top of the crisp from getting crisp.
* Serve with vanilla ice cream.
Wine: Rabbit Ridge Allure de Robles
I found it at TJ's, its inconspicuous spot on the shelf marked by a celebratory sticker of a silver medal from some contest or another. At $5.99, I figured it was worth a shot. It was indeed. Our oenophiliac dinner guest last night also gave it a thumbs-up, and that was the last third of a bottle that had been opened three days previous. we drank it with a lamb-and-roasted-veggie lasagna.
Note: the bottle did not specify the year, which I believe makes it the "NV" (no vintage?).
Returning to TJ's yesterday, the Allure was awarded its own end-of-aisle display, the type normally reserved for Charles Shaw. Get it while it's hot.
Note: the bottle did not specify the year, which I believe makes it the "NV" (no vintage?).
Returning to TJ's yesterday, the Allure was awarded its own end-of-aisle display, the type normally reserved for Charles Shaw. Get it while it's hot.
7/25/07
Lunch: Café Chez Carla
I admit it: I've been digressing to kinda gross Subway for quick work lunches again, but only once or twice a week, and only because I only want to spend a lousy $3. (I saw some guy substitute fresh spinach for shredded lettuce, and boy, does that make a difference.) So in short order I am disgusted and looking to refresh the options, without waiting for Rupert to send raises.
I've narrowed Wildflower down to Fridays, with the lighter salad a perfect lead-in to the weekend. But now I am sick of it, too. My colleague Jomo, known for the $12 Wildflower salads, has looked to greener pastures as well, and he turned me on to Café Carla, which I've noticed a couple of doors down from Soup Freaks (home of the $7 soup and lame chicken-sandwich combo). Except that it's called Chez Carla. I still think Café Carla is better.
So I walk in and right away I love the piped-in salsa. Taquería María in San Rafael probably tunes into the same satellite-radio stream. I start tentatively -- serving myself very small portions of greens, a little angel hair with veggies and fresh herbs, roasted mushrooms and zucchini, sautéed green beans and a tiny piece of chicken -- bracing myself for the $8 tab. Someone comes out to ring me up, and my jaw drops: $4.26. Unbelievable.
The woman mentions something about a $4.99 minimum, but hands me a frequent-diner card (10th salad free, max. $7) and tells me not to worry about it. Everything looks great and has fresh basil and cilantro, and turns out tastes great and is not over- or undersalted either. (I didn't even touch other hot items than chicken.) It's a delicious and satisfying lunch, though four hours later I snack on an apple and some nuts. But that's the way you should eat anyway.
The chicken, I learn from this podcast I found, is first roasted and then deep-fried. God, I am happy.
I can't wait to go back tomorrow. How many times can you say that about a place? Dispatches and salsa playlists to follow. (Day 1: "Pedro Navaja," Ruben Blades.)
I've narrowed Wildflower down to Fridays, with the lighter salad a perfect lead-in to the weekend. But now I am sick of it, too. My colleague Jomo, known for the $12 Wildflower salads, has looked to greener pastures as well, and he turned me on to Café Carla, which I've noticed a couple of doors down from Soup Freaks (home of the $7 soup and lame chicken-sandwich combo). Except that it's called Chez Carla. I still think Café Carla is better.
So I walk in and right away I love the piped-in salsa. Taquería María in San Rafael probably tunes into the same satellite-radio stream. I start tentatively -- serving myself very small portions of greens, a little angel hair with veggies and fresh herbs, roasted mushrooms and zucchini, sautéed green beans and a tiny piece of chicken -- bracing myself for the $8 tab. Someone comes out to ring me up, and my jaw drops: $4.26. Unbelievable.
The woman mentions something about a $4.99 minimum, but hands me a frequent-diner card (10th salad free, max. $7) and tells me not to worry about it. Everything looks great and has fresh basil and cilantro, and turns out tastes great and is not over- or undersalted either. (I didn't even touch other hot items than chicken.) It's a delicious and satisfying lunch, though four hours later I snack on an apple and some nuts. But that's the way you should eat anyway.
The chicken, I learn from this podcast I found, is first roasted and then deep-fried. God, I am happy.
I can't wait to go back tomorrow. How many times can you say that about a place? Dispatches and salsa playlists to follow. (Day 1: "Pedro Navaja," Ruben Blades.)
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