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.

Korean Ranks #3 in Hawaii

Meanwhile, top honors go to Los Angeles, while New York comes in second.

This here is the savory spread served up by Shillawon Restaurant in downtown Honolulu. My sister and I met up with the patriarch and matriarch of my father's side of the family (both 80-something-years old and still going strong!), and we lay waste to the fine food set before us.


Thumbs way up for the sundubu jjigae (spicy silken tofu stew), which came out boiling hot (so hot my sister had a massive choking fit after she'd swallowed some down—yikes!) and had a pleasingly rich consistency and pumped-up flavor profile (thanks to the pork, shrimp, shellfish, garlic and other goodies swimming around in there). The kalbi (barbecued short ribs) were also mighty fine—well marinated and oh so tender.


But what I really loved was Shillawon's dol sot bap (rice brought out in a stone pot). I rarely have it, but this one made my day, stuffed as it was with so many lovely treats from yummy hunks of pumpkin to sweet dates and peas. You stir it up, scoop most of it out and into a bowl, then pour boiling water into the stone pot which you then cover to let the liquid steep. After you've eaten your meal, you go back to the pot, and finish off what's left inside, making sure to scrape up all the best bits. Good times.

Holy Incanto

Whenever my sister's in town, I always try to pick some place special to go out to eat with her. On the rec of my Urban Daddy friend, who never steers me wrong, we ended up at Incanto. In fact, UD friend came along, and all three of us were absolutely thrilled with our meals.


The mint malfatti (spinach pasta) came out perfectly al dente and decadently doused in a rich red wine-braised beef and mushroom sauce.


Incanto's marinated sardines were super fresh and firm with the celery, grapefruit and radish salad giving just the right tang and crispety crunch to counterbalance the little fish.


Ma soeur and I both asked for what turned out to be the most stupendous slow-roasted, fall-off-the-bone hefty neck o' lamb with a generous garland of gremolata (garlic, cilantro and lemon zest), sitting atop a tangle of sauteed flowering rapini and a pool of the creamiest polenta along with the lamb's own jus.


We finished off with a bowl of some home-made blood orange sorbet and a savory-sweet, rustic Fuji apple and rosemary crostata crowned with vanilla ice cream and a butterscotch drizzle. Usually, I don't think much of Italian desserts, but hats off to Incanto for ending the meal the way it began ... on top.

King of Noodles

When I heard from "cheap eats charter member" JH that King of Noodles—purveyor of hand-pulled noodles—had recently supplanted the pathetically empty Ueno 'round the corner from where I live, I made a mental note to head over while my sister was in town.

After perusing the list of 10-or-so types of noodle dishes and debating the possible pros and cons of several of them, we finally settled on the one we wanted (the pork and spinach dumplings with noodles) ... only to be told by our waiter, "You don't want that one. You want our special of the day: beef stew with noodles." Ah, really? Hmm, I guess we do ... He assured us it would be delicious. And it was.


As we looked around the small, no-frills eatery, we noticed that the beef stew, which was really just a mild beef broth swimming with chunks of meat, shiitake mushrooms and bok choy, was the only noodle soup on offer that day. No matter. It was really quite lovely. And the home-made pasta was amazing—springy and firm, and super satisfying. King of Noodles is aptly named.

I was thrilled to see Shanghai soup dumplings on the menu. I haven't had 'em in years and was determined to try them here. They were divine: atomically hot, juicy, tender and so much fun to eat.

With tax and tip included, the total damage for this tasty foray came up to just $15. King of Noodles deserves a place in the weekly line-up .. fo' sho.

Omnivore's Dilemma

Every so often, I toy with the idea of going back to my vegetarian ways, and then I'm presented with something like this:


MH's South African-tandoori-spiced, yogurt-bathed, grilled-on-the-barby chicken that'll make you say uncle to your meat cravings like no twist of the arm could.


Served up with a wholesome Russet potato slathered in gobs of butter plus a medley of roasted veg, this chicken dinner was finger lickin' good.

A Night of Beast-ly Proportions

I will always be ever so grateful to AS for getting us into the second seating at Portland newcomer Beast, which according to Travel & Leisure, "isn’t so much a restaurant as a regularly occurring, eccentric dinner party in chef and co-owner Naomi Pomeroy’s exhibition kitchen. Dining is at a pair of communal tables, and there are just two seatings per evening. ... Meals are prix fixe, either five-course or six-course (wine pairings optional), and there’s one nightly menu—no choices, no substitutions. Pomeroy and her talented staff prepare exquisite meals using sustainable, farm-fresh ingredients."

We decided to go for broke and opted for Beast's 6-course, 2 oz wine pairings.


Sitting down to the smaller of the 2 farm tables (seating 8, and on this night including the chef's own dad), we started off with a luscious cream of spinach soup topped with a spiral of lobster créme fraiche and a sprinkle of espelette pepper. We scooped up every drop.


Following on its heels, a dreamy charcuterie plate comprising artisanal salami; steak tartare and quail egg toast; pork, pork liver, sour cherry and pistachio paté; fois gras bon-bon with a sauternes geleé on a peanut butter biscuit; and my absolute fave: chicken liver mousse with a small slab of maple candied bacon. All helped down with a lightly dressed fennel and radicchio salad, pickled veg, cornichon and stone-ground mustard.


Then came the oh-so-tender and succulent pork cheeks braised in rosé, accompanied by sweet-hot pepper and roasted shallot salsa, roasted potatoes with olives and Beast bacon, sautéed rapini with garlic and chili flake, and a generous douse of pork demi glace. By this point, I was already struggling to get all of this rich food down, much as I wanted to ... the 2 oz pours were really more like 3 ... and with a few more courses bearing down, what to hold back on?


Well, as it was, the next course was a huge helping of butter lettuce and herbs in a pistachio vinaigrette with a dollop of fresh raw house-made ricotta sitting on a warm bit of toast, so I held back on the (slightly overdressed) greens though couldn't resist finishing off the soft creamy curd.

Nor could I forgo the selection of cow's and sheep's cheese brought out with some poached plum, marcona almonds, and anise and fleur de sel shortbread. And no one could resist the finale: a lemon-buttermilk souffle with créme de cassis ice cream.

We rolled out of Beast well past midnight, 3 and a 1/2 hours after we'd first arrived. All in all, it was a magical and somewhat surreal experience—made all the more surreal looking out the picture window and into the windows of the building across the way to see the silhouettes of not one but 2 lone folk taking showers in stalls stacked one on top of the other. Go figure.

Belly Up at Belly Timber

I had no idea that last weekend's jaunt to Portland would be a gastronome's dream, but indeed it was. First up: brunch at Belly Timber, which is Victorian slang for "food of all sorts" including the most soul-satisfying fried chicken and waffle doused in bacon butter and maple syrup.

MN called it a turkey leg, it was that massive. I could swear the bird had been brined, the flesh was so moist, well-seasoned and herbaceous under the crispy, crunchy batter.


The fresh bacon bits served as a good savory balance against the sweet syrup and melting ooze of butter.


If not for the strong cup o' Stumptown brew to help it all down, I'm certain I woulda slid under the table into a food coma ...