Spice Dish

Fan Letter… to My Mom

Sarah from Pink of Perfection has done it again. Her monthly project, this month? To tell someone we care about “just how exquisite they are.” She asks that participants “scrawl it on a college-ruled page or make a pilgrimage to a stationery shop” in order to let that special person know just how they have affected your life. So here goes.

Fan Letter… to my mom

That's my mom

First off, this post is waaay overdue. I should have done it at Mother’s Day. Not because I don’t tell my mom how awesome she is regularly… but because I haven’t told you people how amazing she is. I know she’ll read this too because she’s supportive like that.

She has been teacher to me, beyond being a parent, a friend, a role model, and a mentor. She’s now, and always, an inspiration. She’s strong, supportive, independent, freakin’ adorable, supportive, understanding, supportive, loving… did I mention supportive?

I haven’t always made the most parent-approved decisions in my life, but she’s supported me no matter what I’ve decided to take on. Become a bartender after she spent thousands of dollars on a college education? Ok sure. Start a real career and then drop it all to move to New York… shortly after 9/11… go ahead! Move back a year later with no money? C’mon home! Accept whomever I was dating at whatever time? Why not? Like I said… my mom rocks.

 

One reason she rocks…. Take Mother’s Day for example. Some moms require jewelry, flowers, champagne and their kids doting on them with loving, perfect eyes. My mom? Fish n’ chips and a beer at a little pub she likes by the beach. Seriously.

 

Cameron’s in Half Moon Bay is a crazy English pub with a double decker bus parked outside. They’ve got a massive menu but mom always orders the fish n’ chips.  During a fun lunch where we played 20 questions (the little electronic kind) did she drill me with inquiries as to when I’m going to have a kid? Nope. “How about we toddle through town… “ was her only request. Half Moon Bay is a small town. Once you’ve popped in the shops the only left to do is stop for ice cream. “Okie”. See… she’s easy that way.

 

My mom has been through a lot in her life. Family stuff, career stuff, relationship stuff… all the ‘stuff’ women of her generation had to figure out how to do… in a new way. She’s always stood on her own two feet. She’s always cared for others before herself. She’s always been there when her family needed her. And she’s also promised never to make meatloaf or tuna casserole ever again.

Through everything, she's kept her sense of humor and her own sense of self. My mom.... well she's amazing and I love her.

Erin

Wok Wizzin'

Over the weekend I treated myself (and Designated Eater Mimi)to a Wok Wiz Tour. Wok Wiz is a fantastic culinary walking tour of San Francisco’s Chinatown founded by Shirley Fong-Torres.

 

It was difficult to get up early on a Sunday morning but it was worth it. We met in the lobby of the Chinatown Hilton where our very friendly tour guides greeted us, split us into two groups and hustled us out the door. Our guide Gimmy was really great.

Gimmy

She made the tour personal by sharing images of her family and interweaving her family’s personal history with the historical notes and facts she gave. It really helped to connect the history with a living, breathing human.

Gimmy shuffled us through Portsmouth Square, which is the heart of Chinatown. It’s here that even native San Franciscan’s feel like they’ve been transported to China. Little no English is spoken and sound of the men playing gambling games is pretty intense…especially on a Sunday morning. From there we visited paper-making shops, Buddhist temples, herbalists, bakeries, delis and other points of interest.

Each cookie...by hand!

I have to say that among my favorite stops was the fortune cookie factory where you are given a warm cookie to munch on while you watch the (somewhat gruff) ladies fold each cookie by hand. I also liked the Chinese hospital, which truthfully, I never knew existed. Gimmy made this stop more than just a spot of architectural interest by letting us see copies of the bill her mother received when our guide was born there.

 

I really enjoyed stopping off at Red Blossom Tea Importers as well. Peter, the son in this family run business was funny, charming and captivating as he explained the tea trade and brewed us a sample. The tour concludes with your group having lunch at a Chinese restaurant where you munch on dim sum (Heart’s Delight) and a few staple, “non-exotic” (read “not scary for Midwesterners”) dishes.

 

I do wish I had opted for the more culinary intensive (more expensive) “I Ate My Way Through Chinatown Tour” but I enjoyed myself. The tourists in my group had a grand time and I really would recommend taking out-of-town visitors here or if you come for a visit… taking the tour yourself.

The cost of the basic Wok Wiz Tour is 40$ (includes lunch). More information can be found at:
www.wokwiz.com
1-800-979-3370

Enjoy!

Erin

How do you say Ole?

 
Patatas Bravas. Bravo!
 

Did you know that the Spanish translation for 'the perfect weekend breakfast' is Picaro? It is. Look it up!

Why is it perfect? Fresh fruit, eggs fried in olive oil, brioche french toast, omelets with Serrano ham and goat cheese... I could go on.... but I haven't mentioned the sangria yet or the mimosa's rimmed with cinnamon. Oh! Oh! Or the absolutely fabulous little back patio that makes you momentarily forget that you're in the middle of the city. This little slice of heaven has dragged me out of bed many a weekend (I've been here every one for the past month.)

Ahhhh sunny space

Every breakfast dish I've had has been fantastic. My guests have been bowled over by the super-friendly staff, the tasty hangover busters (the patatas bravas specifically), and the fact that for 7 bucks you will walk away a happy, rosy cheeked camper.

Big, fluffy and oh so just the thing

It really is a fantastic, not yet discovered, breakfast gem. If you want to try Picaro yourself you can find it at:

3120 16th St (btwn Valencia & Gurerro)

Enjoy!

Erin

Hot in The City, So Hot...

Last Saturday was a hot day. For those of you that don’t know… San Franciscan’s don’t ‘do’ hot. It’s actually hot here maybe five days a year. There is no A/C anywhere and we all tend to look a little frightened when it’s hot enough to potentially get sunburned.

I spent a good portion of the day napping in front of the fan. Could we have gone to the park? Sure. But Dolores park was akin to hipster Woodstock and we wanted no part of that. What did we want? Well not to fire up the oven in our small apartment that’s for sure.

Good thing I had made a reservation at Delfina for that night – two months in advance.

At 9 pm it was still hot in the city. People crowded the streets. The sidewalk in front of Delfina was no exception. A small mob stood outside hoping to get a seat, if not in the main restaurant, at least in the pizzeria; wine glasses in hand, sweat on their brows.

We waded through the throng and made it inside where our table was waiting for us.

Our waiter was new, that was clear, but his small foibles were more than compensated for by his smile and the way the entire staff worked together to ensure our comfort.

Again… it was hot. So hot. The thought of a huge heavy meal all to ourselves was basically unbearable but there were also so many things on the menu we wanted to try. We decided on sharing everything to get a taste of more delectables. Tapas style if you will.

We settled into our cozy corner with a blood orange bellini to start. Way too refreshing for words. Sparkly, sweet, perfect. We quickly agreed on a bottle of rose to follow, the heat deemed it necessary.

For our antipasti? Speck with artichoke fritti which I believe was on dandelion greens. It was salty, it was sweet, it was balanced by the bitter greens.

For our salad? Chilled asparagus with a prosecco zabaglione. The cloyingly sweet sauce was the perfect foil for the piercing green stalks. A bite of the speck piled on top of the asparagus…. heaven.

Our secondi was a Strawberry Mountain Ranch hanger steak and French fries. The steak was so rare it was about blue. The sauce that enrobed it was a sweet and savory concoction that was fruity, salty and had it been appropriate… drinkable. The fries were small, crisp and soaked with the aforementioned sauce. As I made my way through the steak, Mimi noted several times “hey you don’t like your meat rare”…. but my half of the plate was just about licked clean. The steak had the texture of butter and the sauce… oh the sauce.

We sat back, completely satiated. I didn’t think I could go on but Mimi had other plans. We would be ordering the Brachetto -Gatti Piero and the Moscato d'Asti-Sori.

She was right. They were delightful. Both crisp, cool, sweet and refreshing. At this point we just knew that we were not going to be finishing any dessert, but we had to try one…. at least one. For our dolci we decided on the profiteroles with espresso gelato, warm chocolate sauce and sugared almonds.

As we sipped our dessert wines and waited for that dessert we took some joy in people watching. Older gentleman with trophy wife and ‘natural black’ hair? Check. Uncomfortable tourist wanting hot sauce? Check. Young, newly engaged preppy couple both wearing loafers with no socks? Check. Monied man out on a ‘date’ with an obvious escort? Check and mate!

The profiteroles came oozing cold gelato and warm chocolate that was as dark as chocolate gets. We ate, we smiled. It was just a perfect evening.

Now… I share my dining experiences more than ‘review’ eateries but I can say that this is one experience I could in all good faith nudge you to indulge in yourselves. It’s just an amazing neighborhood spot, that happens to be spot on. If you want to give it a try you can reach them at:

621 18th Street

San Francisco, CA

415.552.4055

But be warned… reservations required… early.

Enjoy!

Erin

Sashimi Ahoy!

You know those Fridays after you’ve already worked 60 hours and you’re looking at about another 20 over the weekend? Those Fridays when you’re exhausted, can’t fathom cooking, NEED a drink and you need to eat… NOW!?

Hot ramen on a cold day.

Around here we refer to those Fridays as “Sushi Boat Fridays”

Warakabune is a neighborhood sushi joint. Not expensive, not fancy, limited menu… and boats. Behind the boats is a sushi chef with a smug grin, a warm welcome and a desire to feed the neighborhood.

The staff is friendly, and come equipped with elephant sized memories. You always order an unfiltered sake and large Sapporo? By your third visit you don’t need to order it anymore. It magically appears before you.

Each time you go, you swear up and down that you won’t eat as much as last time… but the boats. They just keep going round and round carrying little plates of deliciousness. You… of course… eat more than you did last time. You even request something new. Something special. Something inspired and voila… it appears with the chef’s special touch. Perfect.

Cures what ail's ya.

Whenever I get a cold, I toddle over there to have a big steaming bowl of their spicy ramen. And people… spicy means spicy. Hold on to your nose hairs.

The sashimi is cold, fresh and buttery. The ‘special rolls’ are packed tight with flavor and texture. The assorted salads are traditional and tasty. Of course you can also order full entrees of teriyaki, tempura and whatnot but the main attraction is the boats. (One drunken evening a friend and I decided that the boats could be improved by the addition of lego pirate people… but that’s just the sake talking.)

I’m not saying it’s the best sushi I’ve ever eaten in my entire life… but it ranks up there. And for the price it absolutely cannot be beat. It’s fresh, it’s delicious, and it’s made by people who care. What more can you ask for?

sake + camera=bad

There is generally a wait to get a seat at the boats… but that’s ok. You’re welcome to order some sake or a beer to sip while you wait. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been here, and I’ve never once had a disappointing experience. If you’re in the neighborhood, on a Friday night or not, I say stop by. You will be happier for it.

Enjoy!

Erin

Warakabune
307 Church St
(between 15th St & 16th St)
San Francisco, CA 94114

(415) 252-8383 
Wed-Sat 5:00 p.m.-10:30 p.m.
Sun 5:00 p.m.-9:30 p.m.

Why I love California...

I’m sorry it took me so long to get something up here. You see… I finally got away for a weekend. It was, as they say in the movies—loverly. However the second I got home I was slammed with stacks of papers to grade, computer work to do, classes to substitute and on and on…. But back to that oh-so-loverly weekend.

After sleeping in a bit on Sunday morning (it was glorious!), I threw my bathing suit in a bag, threw the bag in the car and we headed up over the Golden Gate Bridge to hot springs country….Calistoga.

The sun was out, the music was up and the drive was fantastic. By early afternoon we pulled into “downtown” Calistoga. It’s one of those mountain towns that has one main street that is the entirety of “downtown.” Fine by us. We pulled right into a parking space…. Downtown… for San Franciscans… this was an actual thrill.

This hills are alive.....

As we walked down the actually “picturesque” main street we passed an abundance of steak & seafood restaurants, wine shops, Harley Davidson “enthusiasts” and the lone Chinese food restaurant. We decided that a light lunch at little Italian bistro with a nice wine list was just the thing… We found what we were looking for at Checkers.

The service was attentive, friendly and very welcoming. We ordered ourselves a few nice glasses of wine and set in to enjoy basically one of every appetizer on the menu. Do you ever have those moments where you just want a taste of everything and a meal of nothing? Garlic shrimp in rich, deep olive oil with crostini? Check. Cheesy, fresh artichoke spread with crostini? Check. Crisp mixed greens with juicy pears, sharp cheese and… crostini? Check. They reaaally like their crostini here. But no complaints from us. It was all delicious and we were perfectly content. We were on vacation after all! It was a momentous red letter event… really.

After lunch we strolled past fantastic old hardware stores, more wine shops and boutiques full of sunglasses, hand lotions and souvenir art pieces. We weren’t looking for souvenir art… booze is more our style. We stopped in at Enoteca wine shop where it really was a challenge to pick out just a few bottles. The owner was lovely, chatty and very proud of her shop… as she should be! The selection was fantastic. We nabbed a couple of already chilled bottles and headed over to Golden Haven Spa.

Golden Haven is not a chi-chi Napa valley day spa. It is an old school mineral/mud bath health and wellness center. No floofy spa robe, no lavender foot bath while you wait… it’s stinky peet mud and sulfur-y mineral bath goodness.

How cute is this place?

Golden Haven looks like an old school motel. It’s fantastic. Our room was big, clean and comfy with an actually bouncy bed! I hate hard hotel beds. No phone, but wine glasses available at the front desk. Love it.

We dumped our bags and headed into the spa for a mineral bath and a massage. Everyone was a bit on the hippy side and really nice. We agreed that the ‘rustic’ nature of the place really was the basis for its charm.

About two hours later we were all rubbed down and stinky smelling, but relaxed. We threw on some clothes and decided to walk downtown to grab some dinner. Brannan’s Grill, one of the few restaurants open after 8 pm, had a dark “boy’s club” type of feel and a menu that featured Italian/California fare.

I told you it was dark!

We ordered some local Hog Island oysters, a seafood stew and a small salad. The oysters were fresh, salty and wonderful. The rich and meaty fish stew (chock full of crab and such) was on top of light, airy pasta. The highlight of our meal though, really? The booze. Chocolate mojitos, pear martinis, citrus-honey flavored muscats… maybe it’s because we sat at the bar… but we really indulged in the cocktails that evening.

As we walked (ok stumbled) back to Golden Haven we passed quite a few cottages offering mineral baths and a bed to sleep in. We passed a tiny high school and a café or two. It really is a great little town.

The next morning I woke up weirdly early. It was cold, but I trundled over to the quiet motel office to grab a towel and headed towards the pool. It was like bathwater. The mineral water Jacuzzi was yellow and stinky, but also hot and wonderful. A more perfect way to start your day? I think not. I felt like a cat after a bath as I dried off by sitting in the sun on the little porch attached to my room, while drinking coffee and reading the last issue of Saveur. I have to make that pound cake now.

 
My fair city

Monday morning was gorgeous. Sunny, warm, and breezy. We decided that we simply had to carry on with the spa inspired serenity (and the foodie goodness of course). On the way back into the city we decided that a Tiburon side trip was in order. We had a specific destination in mind too. Sam’s is a fantastic restaurant right on the water. While basking in the sun you look out over a marina full of boats to see the San Francisco city skyline.

We sat out back on the deck and settled in with champagne and a bloody mary. We ordered ourselves an ahi tuna poke, some more Hog Island oysters and one of the best cheeseburgers I’ve had in a long time. Niman Ranch of course.

Oyster love part II

As we drove over the bridge into the city we realized that we just did not want this weekend to end… and it was St. Patrick’s Day after all. We sent out the alert and threw a last minute backyard bbq in our car-port. Fresh asparagus, fresh sausages, chicken and portabellos + Guinness + good friends= the perfect way to end what was honestly an amazingly perfect weekend.

 

Now back to grading those papers....

Erin

Got A Light?

Now friends, this was a doozy of a find: Benson & Hedges 100’s presents 100 Recipes from 100 of the Greatest Restaurants. This groovy little number from 1978 has trademark 70’s line illustrations and photos that feature a distinct yellow patina. It was put together by Craig Claiborne… yes this Craig Claiborne… the previous year Benson & Hedges had wrangled James Beard into putting together a collection.

There are recipes from such famous restaurants as 21 in New York, London Chop House in Detroit, Gordon’s in Baltimore and India House in San Francisco. Not only is this a ‘comprehensive’ survey of American cuisine, but just to make it extra smoker friendly the book is shaped like a box of Benson & Hedges 100’s. Seriously.

I settled on a Steak Flambe Moutarde recipe on pg 28 from Bacchanal in Las Vegas, Nevada.

I used a Niman Ranch sirloin (yay local!) that I got to bean with a rolling pin…. it was like the home version of Whack-a-Mole. Always good after a long day. I also added mushrooms… because… well… we like mushrooms around these parts. Other than that I stuck to the recipe and I have to say it was a hit! So old school, so steak house.

Steak Flambe Moutarde

4 6 oz pieces sirloin steak, cut 1 inch thick
6 tbs butter
salt
pepper
¼ cup brandy
½ cup whipping cream
3 tbs Dijon-style mustard
2 tbs dairy sour cream
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce

Pound pieces of steak between pieces of waxed paper to ½ inch thickness. In large skillet, heat butter and sauté sirloins for 2 minutes. Turn and season with salt and pepper. Cook to desired degree of doneness (2 minutes each side for rare).

Pour brandy over steaks; ignite.

When flame dies, transfer steaks to warm serving platter. Add whipping cream, mustard, sour cream, and Worcestershire sauce to juices in pan. Cook and stir till heated through. Pour sauce over steaks to serve. Makes 4 servings.

Now can I get a light?

Enjoy!


Erin

San Francisco Zagat Survey Sillyness

It's that time again fellow San Franciscans... it's Zagat survey time!
You can sign up for free and make your voice heard. Hate the new corner restaurant? Hate that nobody goes to your favorite dive joint? Can't understand why people still go... there? Had a meal that was better than sex?
Then step on up and add your pithy reviews.

They are even rocking a contest for the most witty, droll and clever comments. If you contribute you not only help out your fellow San Franciscan diners but you get a free copy to boot!

I know some people aren't huge fans of the print copy because lots of great places get left out and bad ones get left in but it still is a good resource for lots of non net-savvy eaters out there.

If nothing else you get your own copy so you can enjoy fabulous reviews such as:
"God knows, you 'don't go there for the food."

Enjoy!
Erin

NOPA No No

I was really excited about my trip to NOPA. I was taking a friend to celebrate his birthday. We went a little early hoping to grab a cocktail before our 8 o’clock reservation. We made our way to the bar and ordered a few cocktails. So far so good. We ended up forgoing our reservations and vultured a seat at the bar…. we like eating at the bar. It’s a great way to get to know the bar staff.

As we surveyed the room we took note of something odd. The waiters looked like a gaggle of Shaggy’s! There was an abundance of beards and open topped shirts with chest hair making an appearance—I don’t want beard hair or chest hair in my salad thank you very much.

We decided to order the flatbread and the fritto misto to start. While we waited for those, the kitchen send out an amuse bouche. A tiny crostini with duck liver pate and a slice of cornichon with sea salt. It was perfect.

 
Fishy Fritto

Then the flatbread came. It was topped with spicy fennel sausage, escarole, caramelized onions and herbed ricotta. The crust was perfectly thin and crisp and the topping worked together very, very well. Yay! This was going to be an amazing meal.

Um… no. Then the fritto misto of mackerel, radicchio, red onion, and orange arrived. The mackerel was extremely fishy and the breading was very salty. The best part was the radicchio. The battered, fried bitter lettuce was pretty tasty. But the rest… inedible.

I ordered up a second sidecar to cut the salt (with extreme sweet I know). It seemed like the bartender didn’t know how to make it—he kept tasting it while he was mixing it—and when my dining companion (who happens to be a bartender) tasted it he knew it was wrong so he asked to have it ‘amped up’ and offered to pay to have it fixed. At this point our bartender claimed ‘sorry I didn’t taste it’… which he had…. But shouldn’t have to! He should just know how to make it! In his defense… he was incredibly sweet and earnest without an ounce of attitude, which is generally an SF bartender norm.

Salty, salty short ribs

Second sidecar made proper boom the main dishes snuck up behind us. My friend ordered the burger and it was really good—the brioche bun gave it a fantastic sweetness. However the fries had some weird ‘hair’ fried onto a few. It looked like corn silk… but there was no corn on the menu. So we were a little afraid.

I had ordered the short ribs (which I was so beyond excited for), which were supposed to come with polenta and turnips (but actually came with carrots—hey I like carrots). The ribs tasted and had the texture of corned beef. It was also so salty that I couldn’t eat it. Honestly… there was so much left on the plate that the bartender asked if I needed to take it home. No… no thank you.

We passed on dessert and headed out, not because of the over-salting, but because we just couldn’t stand to witness the 45-year-old dude drinking a negroni next to us hitting on a pair of drunken 20 year olds.

So we left it at that and left. I really want to believe that we just had an off night—the place was, and always is, packed so I’m hoping we had a rare experience. While yes they bore a striking resemblance to Shaggy—the wait staff was spot on and the bartender surprisingly had taken the fritto off our bill. It was unexpected and much appreciated.

Puzzled Birthday Boy

As for my friend? The birthday bastard played quick draw McGraw and paid for dinner!!

Like I said…I hope we just had the random, bad experience. If you want to give NOPA your own try, you can find it at:

560 Divisadero @ Hayes
San Francisco, CA 94117
415-864-8643

Enjoy!

Erin

 

Food Blocker

I was getting pretty bummed out about the rain the other day. It just started to feel like it would never end but instead of sitting in the house and pouting I took a stand. I put on a cute cap, my fuzzy winter coat, grabbed my camera and headed out.

I thought I’d take a note from the “Blocker” series by Charles Hodgkins at Sfist and let you in on my daily walk home. 

Most days I pop up from the 16^th & Mission BART station-- a true bastion of the down & cracked out—and head to one of the Mexican markets to grab a few veggies and fruits. These markets are fantastic! Everything you need and a bunch of stuff you didn’t know you wanted all for much less than the big supermarkets.

As I round the corner of Valencia & 16th I am always happy to see the barrage of dining choices laid out in front of me. On one corner I one can choose from a truly tasty taqueria, a double-doored, always packed Vietnamese place, a sushi joint that boasts drinks “just like mom used to make” or a lovely, upscale Peruvian eatery.

If you look down the other side of the street you will find a fantastic falafel stand, the other door to the Sunflower Vietnamese, Dalva a great place for an herbal infused cocktail and the Roxie (who doesn’t like movie popcorn?)

If you toddle down the street you’ll also run into Bar Tartine (fries cooked in duck fat anyone?) and Frjtz ( a great place for a cup of fries and a crepe). But you will also pass Bombay Creamery—the only place I know of where you can get some garam masala, a Bollywood flick, some rose petal ice cream and a samosa to go?

On my final leg of my homeward journey one would pass another Vietnamese restaurant that delivers an excellent Pho, a yummy Chinese restaurant aptly titled Yum Yum House, a family run Korean BBQ and my favorite taqueria that has been closed for remodel waayyy too long.

So that’s it. My little culinary corner of the world. And don’t think I even remotely listed off every eating option. I thought I’d just give you a taste of the wonderfulness that is my ‘hood.

What is your walk home like?

 

Erin