Loving Every Bite of Our Park Tavern Pig-Out

"This is the best meal I've had all year," raved PH during and after our meal at Park Tavern. I have to say, the food was mighty fine. And I was pleased PH enjoyed every bite since we were celebrating her birthday. We found the spacious North Beach restaurant comfortable and inviting, seated as we were in the corner of a plush row of black leather banquettes, right off Park Tavern's massive kitchen.

Since it was her birthday, I was happy to oblige PH's choice of appetizers, which included the smoked deviled eggs capped with slabs of bacon, pickled jalapenos, chives and shallots. And who doesn't love a good deviled egg anyway? These are just about the best rendition I've had. SPQR's deviled eggs rate pretty highly, too.

We also devoured Park Tavern's crispy, airy wafers of deep-fried lemon that came with a nicely seasoned fava bean hummus, spiked with nigella seeds and nasturtium.

I couldn't get over how amazingly perfect my main was: caramelized sea scallops that were fresh and juicy with a hint of the sea. They came with a joyous medley of crispy tempura maitake mushrooms, roasted sweet peppers and thin shavings of zucchini, all tempered by an earthy porcini cream and then brought back up with the tang of a grilled spring onion vinaigrettte. 

I got to nibble on PH's grilled pork chop. Holy bonanza. Served with morcilla sausage, brussels sprouts, wilted greens, tiny new potatoes, pickled onions and a savory mustard jus, this was the ultimate in indulgence. Of the very best kind.

We were on such a roll, we even managed to fit dessert into our greedy bellies before calling it quits. Who says gluttony is a bad thing?

Rich Table, Wonder of Wonders

Rich Table is my new favorite restaurant. Thank you, SS for suggesting we hit the bar, reserved for walk-ins, at this most delightful eatery celebrating California's bounty. And thank god for catching a break when we snagged 2 seats within 10 minutes of our arrival—the place was packed to the rafters with ravenous diners, most with reservations made weeks in advance. The place has been getting a great deal of attention, all good. Needless to say, my expectations for Rich Table were high as we took our spots at the end of the bar, right next to the postage stamp-sized kitchen.

Wow. We set off on the right foot when Rich Table's server slid the bowl of blistered padron peppers and popped corn towards us. And those hefty slices of wild fennel levain bread with honkin' nob of butter.

Things continued to improve as we helped ourselves to the oh-so-fresh slivers of cured hamachi.

We also savored every bite of the juicy, sweet peach salad, which screamed of the last days of summer.

What a perfect dish this was: the trout in a green tomato broth with thin sheets of nori, corn, fig slices and a smattering of toasted almond.

I loved how the lightly dressed, citrusy shrimp and pea garganelli gave a good little kick with its pickled serrano peppers.

And more summer goodness in the form of a springy, blue corn cake with honey roasted plums and a dollop of vanilla ice cream.

Happy happy. Good times. Rinse. Repeat.

Commonwealth's Chef's Tasting

Commonwealth, "a progressive American restaurant in San Francisco's Mission district," does a fine job with its chef's tasting menu. Lonely Planet pal AB and I met there a few weeks ago per her glowing recommendation. The line-up was not only pleasing to the eye, but to the palate as well—for the most part anyway.


It started with an amuse bouche of the crunchy granola persuasion, comprising thin slivers of raw maitake mushroom drizzled with honey, laying atop a sprinkle of pine nuts. Presented to us on rough-hewn slate slabs, the au naturel opener was less to AB's liking than mine—we both agreed it had a true forage feel to it, like we were taking a trek in the woods.


The foie gras bon bons served with half-rounds of quince, tonka bean and Szechuan peppercorn were a step up from the mushrooms, though I'd have preferred the foie gras less chilled and sans chocolate. The strong, bittersweet flavor of dark chocolate seems better off saved for the end of the meal vs. introduced in the beginning.


Commonwealth's standout dish was the crispety-crunchety deep-fried Jerusalem artichokes, sharp and yet sweet onions cooked in hay, tiny soft-boiled quail egg, sprinkling of chickweed and radicchio leaves, resting on a beautiful bed of quinoa.


I'm not going to say no to a good scallop, and these were seared oh so well. Though scallops seem to be on every hot SF restaurant menu, this dish was made unique in its accompaniments: vadouvan (aka Indian spice blend), pumpkin puree, black rice, nasturtium (both the flowers and leaves), and a nettle emulsion.


I appreciated that my moist and tender quail came out as tiny medallions—much easier to pop in my mouth than to work on a little carcass of a bird with fork and knife. It came with crispy curls of parsnip, bitter chicories, fig leaf, vanilla and a beurre rouge (or red butter sauce).


And the finale: chocolate played a part, and rightly so. This peanut butter semifreddo with chocolate ganache outer shell and sprinkling of frozen popcorn was essentially a fancy PB&Choco candy bar. Thumbs up, we say.

Bar Lunch at Hillstone

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.