Panchan Aplenty

God knows how many packages of panchan—small side dishes comprising everything from pan-fried pike fish and deep-fried nori to julienned burdock root and radish pickled in sweetened chili paste—we picked up at my aunt's favorite basement market. But when we got there around 6:30 p.m. or so, the panchan was going fast. My aunt had to quickly jockey for position (those Korean ladies can be fierce!) to make sure she didn't miss out on the last of the good stuff, all of which are made fresh daily.


Once we got what we wanted, we cruised over to a neighboring stall to pick up a hunk of the creamiest, most luscious home-made tofu flavored with black bean (also made fresh daily) plus some tasty kimchi-stuffed soybean pancakes.


Plenty to choose from and exactly how I like it. Thanks, eemo!

Tower Chai's Awesome Noodles

Tower Chai Chinese Restaurant's got bomb jia jiang mein. Located in the ultra-swank Tower Palace in the Vantt Building (read: there are stinkin' rich people living here), the establishment puts out a variety of super fine Chinese delicacies.

But before we'd even got there, my uncle and I had already decided on the hand-pulled noodles dressed in black bean sauce sprinkled generously with everything from bite-sized bits of beef, calamari and shrimp to sauteed onions and zucchini and a julienne of cucumbers.

A lovely lunch to be sure.

Korean BBQ + Naengmyon

In Seoul, restaurants specialize in particular things: The place we went to last night—found in the most nondescript of strip malls along any of a number of Seoul's heavily congested street corridors—is well-known for its BBQ pork and mul naengmyon (cold buckwheat noodle soup made Pyongyang style).

The pork (there must've been 5 pounds of it!) came thoroughly bathed in the most amazing sweet-soy-sesame-garlic marinade—according to my aunt, all of the meat comes from kitchen headquarters; this resto is one of a chain of restos, all of which get their marinated meats from the main kitchen for the utmost in quality control.

It was the tastiest Korean pork BBQ I've ever had. After we'd had our fill of the ambrosial meat, accompanied by an assortment of pickled and fresh vegetables including wedges of stewed pumpkin, slivers of onion dressed in vinegar and leafy lettuce doused in spicy chili paste, we ordered up small bowls of naengmyon, which we zested up with some vinegar and mustard.


I was royally stuffed by the end ...

Seoul Snacks

And it begins ...


My week of Seoul searching began with a simple street snack. This gal's got a medley of deep-fried goodies in the form of veg, squid and noodles-wrapped-in-nori for sale, not to mention super spicy rice dumplings as well. I decided to settle for the deep-fried sweet potato, while my uncle went for the squid, both of which we basted lightly with soy sauce before popping the piping hot pieces into our mouths.


Why the self-restraint? Why not order up s'more? I was tempted, but my aunt had been raving about some baked treats further down the street ... at a place called Rotiboy, so I didn't want to blow my entire wad here and now.


Rotiboy as it turns out reminds me very much of Beard Papa's in its cute factor. I've since found out that it had its start in Malaysia; has expanded to Thailand, Indonesia and now Korea (as of last year); and specializes in these poofy buns that are toasty on the outside and springy soft, with lotsa butter oozing out, on the inside.


That said, I wouldn't be surprised if Rotiboy makes it to New York one of these days. Mom would certainly love the crispety, fluffy, buttery bun accompanied by a suitably strong Americano.

According to Rotiboy, "One is never enough ... [these are] buns to die for ... " Indeed?

Old standby Absinthe is back on the list

Bam.

Now that's a good cheese plate. At Absinthe, you get big hunks of fromage each paired with a specific special something—the blue with jellied kumquats, goat with rose petal jam, and a sheep-goat-cow combo with olives—all accompanied by toasty warm slices of walnut raisin bread.

We really didn't need to follow up with the French onion soup since the portions were so generous (unlike the puny pieces that COCO500 puts out on its cheese plate), but we were glad we did when we started spooning it into our mouths ... the soup was so intensely flavored of sweet onion, beef broth and wine, not to mention the salty tang of gruyere. Absinthe makes the best French onion soup—at least, it's the best I've ever had.

Paella Party

The first time I had paella was at a friend's house in Berkeley way back when I was getting ready to go on a backpacking trip around Europe—my first ever. She had been the year before and discovered this wondrous rice and seafood dish during her travels to Spain.

The second time I had paella was on that backpacking trip. My sister and I—just 21 and 20 years of age—were in the seaside town of Nice, France, and partook of the most magical night filled with fine food (an enormous pan of fragrant saffron- and garlic-infused paella bursting with mussels, chorizo, chicken, calamari, shrimp, peas, peppers and onions), copious amounts of red wine, great company and later, some groovy jazz at a little nightclub not far away.


Since then, I've always held paellas to a very high standard. Some have met the mark, others not so much. Today's paella on the grill was absolutely divine. IM, a native of Barcelona, is a skilled cook—her potato tortas are to-die-for—and her food always leaves you feeling happy and sated.


Whenever the sous chefs I worked for cooked up something amazing for family meal, we'd ask them what was in it that made it so good. "Love," they'd say with a grin. "No, c'mon. Really. What's in it?" we'd say with a roll of our eyes. "Love," they'd keep on saying.

Well, there you have it. IM's paella is the same. It's made with love, and that's why it's so damn good. For real for real ...

Some Like It Hot

On another of the incredibly hot days in SF—the thermometer read 95 just outside J&J's French doors—we celebrated the rare warmth (OK, insane heat) with a Champagne brunch with ingredients picked up from the nearby farmer's market and at Delessio. Yes, just the act of eating reduced us into sweaty betties, but heck, how often do you get San Francisco days that turn into warm nights? Almost never. So, I'll take it. Any time.


Nothing like steak n' eggs, baybeeeeee.

Giddy for Gorditas

On the hottest day of the year, CC brought a buttload of yummy gorditas (or "little fat ones") for a picnic in the park. Made of masa harina (aka corn flour), the thick tortillas come packed with tasty fillings ranging from marinated ground beef and cactus or beans and cheese to CC's fave: green chiles and chicharron (pork rind).

Accompanied by a dice of mangoes and pineapples, these baked treats made me rethink lunch as the throwaway meal of the day.


Of course, it—along with the summery weather—made going back to work a very hard thing to do ...

Lolo for Little Bites

We 3 (that's PM above) went to Guadalajaran/Mexican-meets-Turkish tapas joint Lolo in the Mission last week looking for a change of pace, and found exactly what we were looking for. Not your usual fare, Lolo puts out plates bursting with flavors. If you could find fault with anything, you might say that in some cases the spices seem to war with each other—and it's true, not everything was a homerun. But frankly, Lolo is like a refreshing blast of cold air when you've been cooped up inside a stuffy, stale-smelling room that's been putting you to sleep ... That said, I was more than happy to accommodate Lolo's rainbow of flavors, colors and textures. Bring it!


My #1 pick: panko-encrusted, spice-dusted, flash-fried shrimp topped with a tropical relish, wrapped in jicama with a chipotle aioli (which we asked for on the side since MN hates mayo—say it isn't so.). A lot going on here, bien sur, but man, did it make my tastebuds stand up and sing.


My second fave: shrimp and scallop sopes with a side of slightly underseasoned but crispy apple slaw. It worked out well, because the soft sopes were pumped full of seasoning and spices. Any more on this dish would've really put us over the edge.


Duck confit tacos ... simple and delicious. And actually, a welcome contrast in its spare quality compared to the parade of spices strutting their stuff on the dishes preceding it.

Ho-hum huitlacoche (aka "corn smut" that's mushroom-like in flavor) and ricotta-stuffed gyoza with roasted pepper, tomato, squash blossom sauce. The sauce had a ton more flavor than the bland, mealy potstickers.

Though the gyoza were a miss, we got another dish that we loved: the chunky and herbaceous pan-fried zucchini cakes stuffed with pine nuts, goat and feta cheese and drizzled with a mint aioli.

The only real damper to the meal was an out-of-order waiter who—when PM asked for a glass of water after the dinner and tip had been paid (and a very nice tip at that)—rudely reminded us that it was a Friday night and he needed us to give up the table sooner than later (read: Get out now). What an ass. On our way out, I counted exactly one other 3-top waiting outside and seating for 6 still available ... so if push came to shove, they could just as easily have broken that table up and given it to them.

Nothing like snotty waitstaff to keep you away from a restaurant, no matter how good ...

Beretta Does It Again

It was almost exactly a year ago when I first tried Beretta on the recommendation of my Urban Daddy editor friend, and the Mission cocktail bar and eatery is still going strong. In fact, Mr. H and I hit Beretta for an early supper on a Monday night and by the time we left—just a hair past 8 pm—the place was packed.

And I can see why. Our dinner was pretty darn delightful. It comprised:
- the lovely, lilting Lonsdale cocktail, made of gin, apple, lemon, basil and honey
- crisp-tender spears of grilled asparagus (yay, they're in season now) with a lightly tangy, lemony egg crumble
- generously portioned and well-seasoned, Tuscan-style chicken liver paté scooped on two crostini
- a dish of mussels pugliese (basically, a bed of mussels baked with grated pecorino and bread crumbs)
- a super crisp Neapolitan-style pizza topped with hot salami, coppa, zesty tomato sauce, pecorino and diavolicchio (peperoncinos, aka "little devil" chilies)
- a spicy and inexpensive red wine suggested by our server and whose name escapes me

Beretta most definitely makes my top 5 fave list.

B's BBQ ... Food for the Soul

These are my leftovers from a recent trip to B's BBQ: super-saucy and smokey pork ribs, Texas cole slaw, baked beans and corn bread ... I pretty much inhaled it in about 3 minutes flat. Them's some good BBQ ... for real though hey ... I went with a posse that also partook of the hot links and the brisket—both were scrumptiddlyumptious.

A Tasty Twist at Clock Bar

When I extolled the virtues of the giganto home-made pretzel at Monk's Kettle to SS, she heartily agreed with me, but then insisted I should also add the diminutive but equally as divine pretzel knot at Michael Mina's Clock Bar in the Westin St. Francis to my braided dough repertoire.

So off we went for a lovely nightcap comprising the award-winning Snap, a 12-dollar cocktail made of canton ginger liqueur, Hennessey, fresh lime, pineapple, St. Elizabeth all spice dram served up with a dusting of fresh nutmeg.

The crispy-on-the-outside, pillowy-soft-on-the-inside pretzel, accompanied by a dollop of spicy boccalone mustard, comes from Esther's German Bakery in Mountain View and cost us a mere 5 bucks as did the trio of tasty dips: spicy hummus, chunky aubergine and zesty olive-walnut, compliments of Marin Gourmet in San Rafael.

All of the snacks at Clock Bar are locally sourced and cost only a fraction of what the liquid libations scoring the hefty liquor list (it's 14 pages) have been priced at. So you can nibble to your heart's content while sipping (very) slowly on your 1—OK, maybe 2—beverages for the night.