Here's Looking at Louis

Now catching up with my notes from my last trip, as I prepare for our week in New York. (Any suggestions out there for me?)

Better late than never to commend the fine Bar Louis in the adorable Milford, Pa., hotel where we vegged like royals, in part because it rained. But the place is a great room and has a refreshingly reasonable wine list and desserts that are rich and yet inhaled. It's the kind of place that's stimulating even for just a nightcap while gazing upon Warhol and Lennon gazing back at you, and informal to the extent that somebody will be hanging out nursing Foster's in a glass with ice. Ice in beer, it must be an East Coast thing. Saw this a couple of times.

Kristen and I shared a great bottle of Champagne with some amazing cheeses, the real splurge of the night. Being summer, the roasted corn chowder was dynamite. My Caesar and her salmon with asparagus and balsamic reduction were as good if not better than any others we've had to date. My entree, unforgettable, was the sushi pizza -- a sort of okonomiyaki, a base of sushi rice and rice flour with ahi tuna, a little wasabi cream (I think) and fish roe. It's become a bit famous, very savory and not overpriced at $15.

The upstairs dining room is only open Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays and is prix fixe at $60-$80. I'd love to try it someday. Nevertheless, Bar Louis has made a stamp on this former timber town on the Delaware River. I think about it all the time myself.

June Swoon

A couple years ago fellow Bistrovian BrO turned me on to the marmalade of June Taylor. Best marmalade I've ever had, and better yet I had it all to myself, as The Fanch can't stand the stuff.

Our old friends at Chow have a video interview with June here.

Review: Le P'tit Laurent

This corner bistro at the Glen Park crossroads of Chenery and Diamond is so French I was shocked when one of the unfailingly young and friendly waitresses was American, not French. Given its Francophilia, perhaps I should have been more shocked the waitresses were friendly.

But there they were, young and chatty and not unpleasant on the 37-year-old eyes, approaching each time with a "Messieurs, alors..." (OK, gentlemen...) to see if my tablemates and I, all late 30-something husbands having a brief boys night out, were ready to order. The answer was mainly no, as we were catching up on not having seen each other for many years, and our particular young and easy-on-the-eyes mademoiselle remained, yes, friendly, even a little jokey.

One of my friends' wives, whom we visited after our boys-only dinner, remarked that she found the service a little rude, but I thought it more off-handed. A slightly larger problem was that the service was a little forgetful. With a smile and wee Gallic shrug our waitress, and one or two others, apologized for not bringing this or that (water, our bottle of wine, a second helping of bread). It didn't matter because we had already set the unhurried pace of the evening. The service simply met us halfway.

I prattle on about the service for another reason: there isn't much to report regarding the food. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't distinguished. Decent bistro food, I guess you could call it. I had the rabbit prepared Normandy style, if I remember correctly, my mates each chose a fish -- monkfish in lobster-bacon sauce and the night's special swordfish. Each of us reported the same reaction: decent enough. Not particularly delicate or subtle, somewhat meager proportions, and less than maximum presentation effort. You could generously call it "unpretentious," and for lower prices, sure, why not.

But main courses were in the $16-$20 range, perhaps even a bit more, apps up to $10. What with rents and labor and fuel prices and foie gras backlash, perhaps that's the going rate these days for a decent-enough neighborhood bistro meal served by good-naturedly insouciant French women (do they bring them in on H1-B visas?) in a cozy neighborhood spot. If so, you could be far more disappointed, but on the whole, c'est dommage.

In this city we're up to our stamped-tin ceilings in wannabe authentic bistros, so you should have no problem finding one closer to home at the same or even better prices without having to wander over to Glen Park.

Sustainable Tuna

Look for the American Albacore Fishing Association label in finer sushi parlors everywhere.

Recipes: Chron Chicken

The Chronicle this morning published a paean to the simple roast chicken, with a few not-so-simple recipes thrown in. Click through for the article and several recipes, but here's the one I'm itching to try:

My Dad's Best Ever Chicken
(from Traci Des Jardins)

* 1 large free-range chicken, whole, about 5 pounds
* 1 bunch basil, leaves only
* 2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
* 4 tablespoons Dijon mustard
* 1 tablespoon dried thyme
* 1 teaspoon dried oregano
* 1 teaspoon savory
* 1 teaspoon dried sage
* 1 teaspoon dried rosemary
* 1 teaspoon ground cumin
* -- Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
* 1 lemon

Instructions: Preheat oven to 500°. Loosen the skin of the chicken by running your fingers up under the skin of the breasts. Stuff the basil leaves and garlic under the skin, trying to distribute evenly. Combine all of the dried herbs. Rub Dijon mustard over the entire bird, and then sprinkle the herbs over the entire skin of the chicken. Season the inside of the cavity and the skin generously with salt and pepper. Finish by poking holes in the lemon with a fork and placing it in the cavity.

Place the chicken in a roasting pan and cook for 50 minutes to 1 hour, or until the internal temperature reaches 165°. You may have to reduce the temperature of the oven by 50° after 15-20 minutes if you notice that the skin is getting too dark too quickly. When the chicken is done, all of the juices coming from the cavity should be clear. Remove the lemon from the cavity and squeeze the juice over the chicken. Serve with any variety of accompaniments such as mashed potatoes, roasted heirloom potatoes and corn or parsnip puree.

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.

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.

Recipe: Lamb With Thyme and Orange Peel

I'm trying this one tonight, but subbing lemon-scented thyme for regular thyme.

Meat + Paper = Meatpaper

"We are your journal of meat culture."

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.

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?

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?

I Thought I Used a Little Too Much Wasabi...

Turns out it was the salmon.

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.

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.

Mixology

1-1/2 oz. Tanqueray Rangpur gin
3/4 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.

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.

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.

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!