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New York pal DY was in town and coming down with a cold, so I took him to newly opened Tacolicious in the Mission to get him a piping hot bowl of posole. Typically, these spicy Mexican soups are made with chicken, but the Tacolicious version had shredded pork swimming in a chile pasilla-tomato broth, accompanied by chunks of avocado, cotija cheese, crispy tortilla, cilantro and other herbs to add to the mix.
We of course had to try a bunch of tacos, it being Tacolicious. DY's fave was the Guajillo-braised beef short rib, while mine was the fried local rock cod with shredded cabbage and tangy crema as well as the taco of the week: the uber-rich and savory braised lamb in adobo sauce. Heck, they were all really tasty, stuffed generously as they were with deliciously tender meat. The chicken in mole sauce could've done with a touch more seasoning. But all in all, I enjoyed my meal, enhanced as it was by the "pasion"—a habanero-infused tequila margarita flavored with passionfruit and a good squeeze or two of lime.
The Bacon Bacon food truck parked by our office one Friday not too long ago, thanks to our executive assistant whose got a penchant for good eats and arranges these foodie Fridays for the office. Having heard how tasty Bacon Bacon's pork-laden fare is, I hightailed it to the truck well before noon in hopes of beating the lunch rush.
Ahhh, the line was already 20 deep, but no matter. My meal was well worth the wait. The slightly sweetened sloppy sloppy joe, spiced up with sriracha and dressed with plenty of bacon, was a gut-buster-and-a-half. And man, was it delicious.
On a recent visit to the SF Ferry Building, I noticed a bounty of fiery orange persimmons at a number of stands dotting the farmers market. Of course, I couldn't resist and bought a bag of hachiya persimmons (pictured here), which are ready to eat when soft to the touch (just like a ripe tomato).
Persimmons originate from Asia. And hachiya persimmons in particular are much loved by Koreans. I've got a strong food memory from a trip to Seoul, during which time I enjoyed large quantities of the sweet, juicy, heart-shaped fruits with my aunt. She'd bought a box full of the luscious ripe fruits and stored them in the freezer. Once frozen, we pulled them out and popped 'em in individual bowls, then took the stem off and started scooping away the insides with a spoon. Just like ice cream.
Persimmons = heritage = family = food = love.
Welcome to the neighborhood, Wo Hing General Store. The much anticipated "reopening" of Charles Phan's first storefront on the Valencia corridor finally took place last month, but rather than go with his usual (and outstanding) Cal-Vietnamese fare (a la Out the Door), it seems Chinese street food was the way to go.
And heck, YH and I were more than happy with the results.
Maybe it's because we started with the oh-so-smooth 50/50 Split, lovely cocktails comprising Plymouth gin, Dolin vermouth, orange bitters with a lemon twist.
But no. It was probably because the 5-spice local squid, lightly fried in panko, along with thin slivers of lemon, were ever so tender, ever so fragrant and ever so good.
Add to that Wo Hing's rendition of mapo tofu, unrestrained in its hot spice quotient with a good amount of seasoning and sauciness, which felt very Chinese-Californian and exactly right in this lineup.
The kicker to this meal: a fab dessert of super fresh, glutinous mochi rolled in black sesame filled with vanilla custard. The server cautioned us about the texture of the little rolls—those not familiar with the gummy, springy texture are often put off by it; but most Asians absolutely adore it. We were no exception.
If you're a brunch whore like me, then you'll appreciate Slow Club's awesome weekend line-up. JA and I had the best late morning repast I've had in a long while one Sunday not long ago.
The perfect marriage of sweet and savory: Turkey sausage hash with yukon gold potatoes, garnet yams, caramelized onion, roasted apples, butternut squash and sage, crowned with two delicately poached eggs, a sprinkling of wild arugula and cheddar cheese. I scraped the plate clean with the help of some moist, flakey biscuits and washed it all down with a creamy, smooth latte. Heaven.
Three dinners at Barbacco in the FiDi, and each one a resoundingly good time. From the starters to the generous entrees, the lively trattoria does a really nice job delivering fresh, flavorful dishes along with a smart wine list that pairs well with the bright, spicy food.
On this third go 'round, AB and I delighted in the homemade spicy, smoked Calabrian soft salame (aka 'nduja) and gobbled up the impossibly rich duck liver fegatini smothered in an intensely sweet tangle of caramelized balsamic onions.
Alas, the poached oil tuna over arugula, which we'd ordered, came out incredibly salty, so we sent it back. The accommodating server suggested another salad in its place, and we decided, sure why not. Let's try the duck.
Ah-mazing. The best thing we had that night. The duck conserva was uber-tender and succulent, the perfect kind of savory that complemented so well with the crispy sweet apple slivers, salty ricotta salata and baby spinach leaves.
Addictive stuff. I could happily eat Barbacco's duck salad every week.
By now we were starting to feel the hurt. Our bellies were well on their way to filling up, but we made room for the giganto polpette, crumbly Sicilian meatballs made with ricotta and lemon sitting atop a generous serving of braised escarole.
Yes, our eyes were bigger than our stomachs. The lamb sugo was probably the most pedestrian of all of the dishes, but was really quite well done—properly seasoned and the pasta al dente; it
suffered for having to be compared against the rest.
Actually, the meal I had at Gravelier was the the best of its class that I had during my recent 2-week jaunt through Europe and the UK. Thank you, Pierre (owner of the 18th Century barn of a house that BB and KG swapped homes with), for the great recommendation. It almost redeems you for your peculiar hoarding-tendencies. Anyway, back to Gravelier.
What a fab meal it was. In fact, I'll let the pictures speak to how formidable it was ... in flavor, color and texture as well as unique and complementary combinations.
For example, creamy foie gras wrapped in nori, sitting in the lightest dashi-vegetable broth, accompanied by a skewered shrimp brushed lightly with teriyaki sauce sitting atop thin, extra-crisp brioche toastettes. A surprising appetizer that absolutely worked.
Buttery fresh pasta with a bolognese sauce and a crown of peppery arugula accompanied by a chunk of moist fish flavored with a nutty pesto.
An amazing umami-esque dish of mushroom and tuna medallions.
A lovely medley of fromage, vegetables and proteins including tender pieces of lamb and beef.
Dessert is not Gravelier's forte, but I still appreciated this palmier-like pastry with gelee of fruit with melons suspended inside. Light and airy, fresh and clean. A good ending to a fantabulous meal.
The other dessert option was also solid: marinated minted peaches with grapes in deep-fried puff pastry and a little bit of ice cream on top.
The day I spent trailing on the garde manger station of a Manhattan restaurant where oysters made up one-fifth of the orders hitting the kitchen came in handy during my week's stay in the Bordeaux countryside when BB, KG and I had oysters not once, but four times. No one knew how to shuck the shellfish except me (though BB was a quick study)—and in most cases, the lusciously salty-sweet oysters were hard nuts to crack.
But man were they cheap. And the nice man at the Libourne open market gave us an even better deal on our first go at the bivalves, giving us the oysters priced at 4.5 euros/dozen for 4 euros, and throwing in a couple extra for good measure.
We rounded out our midday repast with a crisp, dry white wine, a lovely pate, plus a creamy fresh mound of burrata with melons, tomatoes and basil from the garden.
Honestly some of the best oysters I've ever had.
BB scored an even better deal on his second trip to the market, picking up two dozen assorted oysters that were equally as fantabulous for just 7 euros. Wowza.
Flanked with a lovely portion of paella, the oysters were one of the highlights of my trip to Bordeaux.
The perfect lunch date with my dear friend and ideal man (save for that he's gay ... hmm, maybe that's why he's ideal) JW is one that's had at Hillstone's circular bar, facing out on the Embarcadero and the SF bay.
If I'm not chowing down on the honkin' Hillstone cheeseburger, I'll opt for the vibrant and vivacious Thai steak and noodle salad, which comes packed full of mouth-watering goodies. Besides the marinated beef filet, cooked a perfect medium rare, it's got big avocado chunks, roasted peanuts, luscious mango, sweet tomatoes and cilantro, all awash in a zippy Thai dressing. A tall, icy glass of Arnold Palmer rounds out this perfect midday meal.
Well done to newcomer Mission Cheese. Lonely Planet writer/pal AB and I enjoyed 2 monger's plates for a total of 6 out-of-this-world cheeses spanning the American countryside from West to East coast and in between. Accompanied by a couple of lovely glasses of rose, we were 2 very happy campers sitting at the beautiful burnished-wood bar one fine summer's eve.
Makes me that much more excited for my impending journey to France ... cheese of all shapes and sizes, with bouquets ranging from floral to foot-y ... I'll take it all, merci beaucoup.
Yay, cheese.
New York pal DY was in town and coming down with a cold, so I took him to newly opened Tacolicious in the Mission to get him a piping hot bowl of posole. Typically, these spicy Mexican soups are made with chicken, but the Tacolicious version had shredded pork swimming in a chile pasilla-tomato broth, accompanied by chunks of avocado, cotija cheese, crispy tortilla, cilantro and other herbs to add to the mix.
