Some of us associate the oddest, most humorous memories with certain foods. Pizza is one of those foods for me.
Example: May 28, 2004. AMC Theatres on Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, California.
I remember it clearly. It was opening night of the blockbluster disaster flick, Day After Tomorrow. That evening, the silver screen audience was principally populated with residents from the nearby nursing home and the moviegoers were abuzz with excitement. Before the movie began, we excitedly watched the previews when I suddenly heard my beau whisper loudly into my ear.
"What is that smell?"
I faintly detected an oniony odor wafting in my direction.
Upon looking up, about two to three rows ahead, I saw a feisty gray-haired woman with her head buried in an open Styrofoam take-out container. I surreptitiously craned my neck upward and peered over her shoulder to view the contents of the container. I was amused to see that her container was heaped to the brim with a mottled orange ball of stringy chow mein noodles and sweet and sour chicken that was so radioactively red, it looked like the molten tip of a branding iron. Awe-struck and secretly jealous, I chuckled softly and feigned exasperation. "She has some guts," I muttered to my beau.
I then heard a rustling commotion and using my peripheral vision, I spotted a cluster of eager seniors huddled over a popped-open lid of a large cardboard Costco pizza box. Not to be outdone, they had snuck a whole pizza into a movie theater! Now those folks had guts to the N-th degree! In my heart, I immediately bowed in deference to them. If any human was worth worshiping, it was these cheapsters! I vowed to myself that one day, I would sneak an entire pizza box into a packed theater. And let me tell you, that day, will be the pinnacle of my achievement as a human being!
The moral of the story, is that one should have no shame when it comes to eating pizza. One of my favorite places for "shameless pizza eating" in the City of San Francisco, is Pizzeria Delfina. They serve pies there that are guaranteed to leave even the hardiest, most-resilient of adults in a garlic-induced stupor.
Pizzeria Delfina specializes in authentic Italian pizza: the kind with blistered, charred, and crackly edges and a supple interior. The kind with melted blobs of mozzarella and crushed tomatoes reeking of freshness. The kind that will make you wanna bring a whole pie into a movie theater! The pies of note at Pizzeria Delfina, are the classic Margherita and two, off-the-menu specials: (1) the Purgatorio and (2) the Gricia.
The Purgatorio is a traditional pie slathered with a spicy, tingly hot tomato sauce base which the chefs spike with red pepper flakes and layer with Romano cheese. The shavings of Romano will melt away on your tongue like salty flakes of snow and provide the perfect counterbalance to the entire pizza pie. However, the best part of the pizza is not the cheese, but the oozing and gooey sunny-side eggs, that spill forth on the pizza face.
The Gricia is made with guanciale (apparently, pig jowl) and panna cheese. This pizza is decorated with wispy tendrils of spring scallions and topped with a puddle of warm cream poured directly within the concentric circle of crust. The entire pie is sprinkled with crushed black peppercorns, which provide a spicy contrast to the creamy pie.
And hey, I would be willing to risk shame and ostracization in a movie theater for these fellas'! (I am an exhibitionist, what can I say.)
What do you call someone who waits in line for more than two hours for lunch-time sushi?
Dumb as a rock?
Pretty close. The answer is "me." I am the punchline.
If you don't get the joke, after reading this post, you will.
At the beginning of this year, my husband and I noticed an explosion of Facebook activity about this new lunch place in the Financial District dubbed "Sushiritto." We had never heard of it, but around 20 of our friends did, and they touted it as the next big thing to hit San Francisco. However, none of these friends had personally tried the food there. Pretty much, they just saw long lines there and wistfully tweeted pictures of the line and something to the effect of, "Must be good! I want some!"
I would like to say this was the "wait of the century," but that would be a gross understatement. I am sure you know how long lines at amusement parks are. At the half hour mark, you are losing steam, but you believe you can keep going. By the time one hour has passed, you are too invested to leave the line. At that point, you convince yourself that "the worst part of the wait is over." At the one and a half hour mark, you tell yourself, "Oh what the heck, I already wasted my day, I might as well continue waiting." And as I waited in line, that is what I told myself. And like lines at the U.S. Post Office, it literally did not move an inch.
Given the pace of the movement of the line, I have no idea how I ended up at the front, but more than two hours later, I did. And since I was starving, half-conscious, and wholly belligerent, I ordered four of the items on the five item menu: the Three Amigos, Latin Ninja, Mamacita, and Crispy Ebi rolls.
As I checked out, the cashier rang up the total as ~$40. At first, I suffered a quick bout of sticker-shock, but because I had waited over two hours for those lil' mutha-effers, I made myself believe that it would be worth it. As I paid for the meal, my husband rushed in with our crying newborn and furiously asked, "What took you so long?" I shoved the rolls in his arms and stormed off to the car.
With a crying baby in the background, we gulped down the rolls in the car (I was so hungry, I could not be bothered to chew and there is no real seating area to eat at in Sushiritto, as it is just a take-out place). At that point, I woefully realized I could not taste a difference between Sushiritto's rolls and Americanized rolls from any ole' sushi joint. Basically, the rolls were like California rolls with one or two extra bells and whistles. Not even like a California roll on steroids, but like a California roll on a GNC herbal supplement. At one point, I tasted something that reminded me of Thai curry (I believe the mango in the Latin Ninja or the plantain and Sriracha combination in the Crispy Ebi roll), but I was too angered by the fact that I had waited two hours to even care.
To quickly recap our meal, we ordered the "Three Amigos" roll, which is sizeable sushi roll made with tuna, salmon, hamachi hiramasa (Japanese amberjack yellowtail fish), avocado, yuzu tobiko (fish roe seasoned with yuzu citrus), asparagus, cucumber, shaved red radish, scallions, and wasabi mayonnaise. Apparently, the "three" friends, are the three different types of fish.
We also ordered the "Latin Ninja" roll, which was made with salmon, mango, avocado, asparagus, daikon radish, Meyer lemon, pickled red onion, cilantro, scallions, and a ginger serrano sauce. The punchy cilantro leaves, the creamy mango and avocado elements, and the fiery serrano oils brought a punch of Latin flair to the Japanese roll.
The third roll we ordered, was the Mamacita Roll, which was made of tuna, Japanese gourd, Shiitake mushrooms, avocado, cucumber, scallions, daikon radish, tobiko (fish roe), crumbled rice chips, and Mexican kabayaki sauce.
Finally, we also ordered the Crispy Ebi, which sounded to be the most innovative roll of the four. The Crispy Ebi was made of tempura shrimp, melted pepperjack cheese, shredded crab, plantain, avocado, cucumber, and Sriracha crema sauce.
Now that you are at the end of this post, I am sure you are thinking, "Gee, I sense bitterness." Honestly, the rolls were pretty good and had it not been for the wait, I would have had liked this place much more. Indeed, my husband (who did not wait in line) went back with his brother and sister-in-law! Check out his sister-in-law's take on Sushiritto here. Also, the menu has undergone a dramatic overhaul and I heard that the lines have died down too, so if you are around the area, you might check it out.
Well, I can't say that I didn't learn a valuable lesson from this ordeal. Sushiritto helped me to realize that there is great value in having a "quicky" every now and then. "Quicky" meaning "quick lunch," that is.
If you are a long-time reader of this blog, you'll be aware of one thing about me.
I love the NBA playoffs.
But it gets worse. Even if you knew that, you probably don't know that:
- I love the NBA playoffs so much, that I literally take off work (by calling in "sick") to watch the highlights that are played in the afternoon. Yes, I know that the highlights will run again in the evening, but I need to watch them when they're fresh.
- I love the NBA playoffs so much, that I don't even answer phone calls from my grandpa (who is over 95 years old) when the games are on the television. I just direct him straight to voicemail. My reasoning, is that "he can wait."
- I love the NBA playoffs so much, that if my team loses the series, I can't sleep for a week and have massive indigestion, cramps, and mood swings. Think "PMS" but with an "NBA" influence.
- Finally, I love the NBA playoffs so much, that I neglect my (1) kitchen, (2) food blog, and (3) other favorite food blogs for months on end.
Well, you probably knew that last fact, if you are a long-time reader and blog friend of mine.
To make it up to you all, I just wanted to post about two sandwich places that I recently discovered near me, in hopes of rekindling our blogging relationship: (1) Toasties and (2) the Submarine Center.
Recently, the beau and I have been sneaking over to West Portal, a trendy neighborhood yet quiet neighborhood in San Francisco. We had heard raves about this toasted sandwich place in West Portal, but conveniently, we forgot the name just as we were about to try it out one day.
All that we remembered was that the sandwich place was right next to the train station. So when we saw Toasties near the MUNI train line, we thought for sure that that sandwich place was "the" place. But, Toasties was pretty much empty and we were the only patrons. Nevertheless, it was clean and they gave us free sodas with our two sandwiches.
After we ordered, we were told that if we wanted to use the restroom, we had to go into the restaurant next door. (Strange, I know.) As we excused ourselves outside to use the neighboring bathroom facilities, we saw a crowded and bustling place on the same block called the Submarine Center. We then realized that we had bought our lunch at the wrong sandwich place! Therefore, we immediately went into the Submarine Center, and ordered a third sandwich (turkey) to share.
But, I have good news to report, the sandwiches were all decent, and I would more than likely go back again to both places.
First, as for the turkey sandwich at the Submarine Center, I really enjoyed the interplay between the crusty bread and the feathery shreds of iceberg lettuce and how both really brought out the flavors of the turkey and cheese. I found it to be a classic sandwich in all respects, and it was definitely appealing.
As for the toasted sandwiches at Toasties, I enjoyed the more substantial tug of the dense bread and the high quality of the toppings, such as grainy mustard and good mayonnaise. The sweet and yeast-pocketed bread definitely made these sandwiches stand out more prominently in my memory.
Toasties' sloppy crab melt sandwich was a little too sloppy for the beau, and I found it to have a pretty powerful relish up in there, but I definitely enjoyed it.
All in all, pretty good bang for your buck at both places.
Yes, I know, that's all for my crappy post. Brief, yes. To the point, hopefully. Okay, now back to playoffs!
(What's my quick take on the playoffs? Although I hate the Mavericks, I'm actually glad that they eliminated the Spurs. The Spurs manage to make the playoffs and championship games supremely boring. The players simply don't have charisma. (Although I do admit that I enjoy looking at Manu Ginobli and Tony Parker from time to time.) But that's why they can never be a real dynasty in my mind. Now I'm just cheering for the Hornets and for the Lakers. Since Phoenix was eliminated long ago, my ideal team now is the Hornets.
Is there even a competition here? I think we all assume that Peter Luger Steak House (the century-old, highly revered, and much heralded dry-aged steak restaurant) would blow any chain restaurant competition out of the water. Plus, Bon Appetit magazine lovingly appointed Peter Luger as "the best" steak in the U.S.
But you'll be surprised at my findings at which restaurant really takes the cake, or should I say, "steak."
There is a bustling city street in San Francisco lined with great steakhouses: (1) Harris' (where they serve pretty delicious steak and potatoes au gratin and obtain their beef supply from the Harris Ranch arm of their business), (2) House of Prime Rib, and (3) Ruth's Chris Steak House. All three steak houses are within less than a city block's distance away from each other on Van Ness Street in San Francisco. Since the beau and I were trying to eat in that area, we agreed to dine at Ruth's Chris, the only steakhouse participating in the Dine About Town prix-fixe program. (This year, the beau convinced me to give the monthly Dine About Town promotion in San Francisco a go one more time. Despite my reluctance and bad experiences with Dine About Town in the past, I agreed.)
Included within the Ruth's Chris $35.00 prix-fixe Dine About Town meal was a simple salad of iceberg, romaine, and baby lettuces with halved grape tomatoes, garlic croutons, and slices of red onion rings. Since our evening was all about the meat, we quickly wolfed down this salad and its light vinaigrette dressing without much fanfare or any real attention. It was a generic salad, nothing more, nor nothing less.
Additionally, the Ruth's Chris prix-fixe meal came with a choice of sides, either (1) a windswept casserole dish of mashed potatoes topped with delicate pools of melted butter and garnished with minced Italian parsley or (2) milky creamed spinach, chopped, strained, and saturated with heavy full-fat cream. We ordered both. While the sides were hearty and filling, they were merely supporting co-stars to the main celebrities of the evening, the dense cuts of dry-aged beef.
For the main course, the beau and I split two types of steak: (1) ribeye, which, according to the menu, is "[a]n outstanding example of USDA Prime at its best. Well marbled for peak flavor, deliciously juicy," and (2) the petite filet mignon, which the menu described as the "[m]ost tender cut of midwestern corn-fed beef."
The ribeye came with showered with a sprinkling of chopped herbs and a melted lake of foamy butter, cascading down the surface and into crevices of the medium-rare meat. Within the seared exterior of the ribeye lay huge canyons filled with rivers of crimson jus. The slick and glistening cut of ribeye meat was bursting with juices and possessed a hearty, nutty flavor. The ribeye was definitely the highlight of the protein-packed evening.
Oddly, I found the filet mignon to actually be a little tougher and more resistant than the ribeye. I could definitely feel the strength of the meat grains against my steak knife and my teeth. Despite the firm, dense texture, the filet was full-bodied in beefy protein flavor. The filet was delicately surrounded by what looked like moat of emulsified butter heated under a broiler until browned and bubbly. Ah, butter. The perfect dipping sauce for steak!
We ended our meal at Ruth's Chris with two desserts, the first being a New Orleans-style bread pudding with a whiskey sauce. A powerful yet sweet whiskey and vanilla fragrance permeated the condensed milk and absorbent bread pudding mattress. The saturated pudding was (1) interspersed with plumped raisins, (2) flavored with grounded aromatic spices of cinnamon and nutmeg, and (3) blanketed with a mahogany-colored caramelized crust.
We also shared a key lime pie, which was sinfully as rich and decadent as a cheesecake, but also light and refreshing. The pie was complimented with an awakening and invigorating bite of brisk lime zest and tart lime juice.
Now, onto the competitor! How do the steak and sides at Peter Luger in Brooklyn compare to that of a (gasp), upscale chain steak restaurant? According to many of my New York friends, you haven't lived until you've dined at least once at Peter Luger. Therefore, I had high expectations for Peter Luger from the moment I walked in, despite its non-pretentious German beerhaus decor.
First off, our lofty expectations of Peter Luger were only reinforced when we tried the baked goods inside Peter Luger's tabletop bread basket. Inside the complimentary basket o' carbs sat a diverse offering of onion rye bread and seasoned crackers encrusted with sesame seeds and sizeable salt crystals. The breads and peppery crackers were intriguingly and lip-smackingly delicious, for they were packed with multi-dimensional flavors from the potent rye seeds and the liberal salt seasoning.
A tiny taste of Peter Luger's famed steak sauce further increased the hype. The steak sauce tasted like a chunky combination of Worcestershire sauce, crushed tomatoes, molasses, and grated horseradish. The sauce was so sweet, it bordered on cloying, but had a bright, tangy, and palate-refreshing bite. Simply summarized, that sauce was hella good, and delivered a swift punch of deliciousness to my tongue.
The sauce and bread though, only whetted our appetite for the main attraction, the steak.
After apprehensively staring at their barebones menu, we finally decided to order after a good half an hour. We settled on the (1) prime rib and (2) porterhouse steak, both medium-rare and both dry-aged in the classic Peter Luger fashion.
Based on my understanding, the process of dry-aging beef produces the most supple of results. Wikipedia states that there are two steps to the process of dry-aging beef: "First, moisture is evaporated from the muscle. This creates a greater concentration of beef flavor and taste. Second, the beef's natural enzymes break down the connective tissue in the muscle, which leads to more tender beef."
Upon being served, I immediately noticed a blackened outer layer of carcinogenic char encrusting the steaks, which was a little bit of a turnoff for me. Also, unlike other steak restaurants, Peter Luger's steaks come out pre-cut into large fish stick-sized hunks, with the accompanying bone. The only beef I have with pre-cut meat (pun intended), is that Peter Luger deprives you of the joy of piercing into steak and watching the liquid jus spill forth. Also, I felt that the servers left a little too much meat on the bone, and the orientation of the bone wasn't conducive for removing the remaining meat without making a scene and gnawing and chewing the meat off with my teeth like a cavewoman.
As for the taste? It was heavenly. The beef definitely lived up to its dry-aged claims. The texture of the steaks were lusciously buttery. Through the dry-aging process, it was clear to my tastebuds that the beef flavor had concentrated and evolved into a complex meaty explosion of flavors, ranging from earthy to "wow." The steak at Peter Luger was supple and creamy, yet firm and rich, almost like a silken pate or meat pudding with a slippery, juicy finish. There was a soft nuttiness, and I could clearly taste a strong beef flavor, which was dissimilar from my previous experience of eating kobe beef. (If that kobe beef had been dry-aged, I would have been on that steak like a fly.)
The bone held together the remnants of sinew and jiggly beef fat that tenderly clung on like ornaments on a Christmas tree.
Along with our steaks, we also ordered two sides: (1) Luger's special German fried potatoes and (2) creamed spinach. As for the fried potatoes, I implore you, don't expect anything life-changing. Basically, these potatoes are the equivalent of chunky breakfast potatoes that you can get at your local diner. Overpriced? Yes. Only decent? Yes.
Lastly, and actually, least appealing, was the mushy, slimy excuse for creamed spinach. It was overseasoned with nutmeg and pulverized into a sloppy goop akin to baby food or liquefied paste. The free chocolate coins that the server handed out with the bill couldn't even redeem this disaster.
To its demerit, Peter Luger really failed on its disappointing sides. The lackluster sides were a mere afterthought, and seriously overpriced.
Nonetheless, in the battle for superior steaks, as expected, Peter Luger won this round, for juicy and succulent dry-aged steaks. However, Ruth's Chris came out a worthy contender with its delicious ribeye steak, and its affordable prix-fixe option which included salad, sides, and a dessert for $35.00.
This post is dedicated to finding food around the glorious Chinese supermarket, known to the public as "99 Ranch Market," but affectionately called "Ranch 99," by those who truly appreciate it. If you are from Southern California, then Ranch 99 runs through your veins, for you know that Ranch 99 sustains life on the earth. It sells a huge variety of seafood, Asian spices, frozen goods, ready-made foods, and other ingredients necessary for an Asian cook. Back in the old days, they used to mail you a 10% off coupon for your birthday and have a loyalty/frequent shopper card similar to those card programs with Safeway/Vons/Dominic's and Ralph's/Cala/Bell. I still have my Ranch 99 loyalty card, even though they discontinued the card program years ago. Only a crazed Ranch 99 fan would know these facts.
If you are a Ranch 99 fanatic, you often will know about reasonable eateries near any Ranch 99. Here is the scoop on a recent discovery of mine near the Ranch 99 in Daly City, when I was particularly hungry.
After a rigorous hour of shopping with the beau at Ranch 99 a few weeks ago in Daly City, our famished bodies could proceed no further. We therefore poked our hungry heads inside Majikku Ramen (a ramen restaurant located in the same indoor strip mall as Ranch 99) and decided to sit down to enjoy a bowl or two full of steaming, crinkled ramen noodles.
Since we were especially hungry, we started with a deep-fried appetizer of karaage chicken. These fritters (that are a Japanese version of America's chicken nuggets) never cease to provide me with oily gratification. The chicken chunks were battered and deep-fried until crisp and golden brown and served with a chilled and vinegary slaw. Majikku's version of karaage chicken was quite respectable, for the oil was neither stale nor foul, and the tender chicken was steaming hot.
Next, the beau and I shared a large bowl of their house-special tonkatsu ramen, which was rich, milky, and infused with the creamy flavor of pork bone marrow. The ramen was topped with thin slices of pork meat, bamboo, a garnish of small dried nori rectangles, half a boiled chicken egg, red pepper slivers, and minced scallions.
We also shared a creamy beef curry, with two types of root vegetable: carrots and potatoes. The beef fell apart into tendrils like chipped beef or pot roast. The curry seemed like a standard version of Golden Curry from the package, but was satisfying nonetheless. The soft, crimped ramen noodles were a luscious accompaniment to the curry gravy.
After our impromptu meal, I rushed home to check out Majikku Ramen online. I was surprised to see so many negative reviews on Yelp, since I thought that it was decent. Though a little on the pricier end of the spectrum for the quality of ramen, Majikku can deliver a satisfying meal for a hungry person who had been furiously shopping at Ranch 99.
These ladies (and one gentleman, in the Duo Dishes) are true sisters (and a brother, again, I am referring to Duo Dishes), because of their encouraging comments, incredibly inspiring recipes and posts, and eye-popping photographs. They are beyond mere blog friends, but they are my blog family! Therefore, I wanted to pass along the Sisterhood Award to them, and thank them for their amazing blog content, unique perspective, and wonderful friendship. If you received this award, pass it along to 10 other bloggers!
As for the "I Love Your Blog" award, since I received it a while back, I wanted to recognize five of my older blog friends who have been with me from the very beginning of my blog. I also want to recognize a couple of new friends too. These bloggers may not all be food bloggers, but they have always left kind comments for me and kept me blogging, even when I vowed that I would give up. As for the two new bloggers, I love their style of blogging and their charismatic flair. These are great bloggers, and best of all, great people. If you received this award, pass it along to 7 other bloggers.
If you haven't already heard, Mission Street Food is a conceptually radical dining experience. Mission Street Food's head chef/owner/culinary mastermind Anthony Myint's aim is to serve high-end cuisine in an unpretentious and unconventional atmosphere at affordable prices. The food, by all means, represents the best of upscale dining. There's fresh produce and meat, and exotic and locally available ingredients prepared by trained or culinary school-educated chefs... But the ambiance is another story entirely. At Mission Street Food, be prepared to brave (1) sticky tables with utensil-scratched glass tabletops; (2) foamy elementary school ceiling tiles with large open gashes and yellow water stains visible even with the extraordinarily dim lighting; and (3) a seedy, graffiti-scrawled, and crime-infested street.
Previously, Myint was a line chef at the respected Bar Tartine restaurant in San Francisco, but he allegedly gave up that well-sought-after gig to work on this pet Mission Street Food project full-time. In Chef Myint's own words, he wants to appeal to the "indie" food community through Mission Street Food. To this end, every Thursday and Saturday, he serves up haute cuisine at a Chinese dive, Lung Shan restaurant, which is otherwise deserted in the evenings. When he initiated this idea into motion, he rented out a taco truck and doled out gourmet cuisine there. Every Thursday and Saturday evening, Lung Shan transforms into a bustling eatery, where you can get an incredible underground restaurant experience. For many, this is a particularly appealing place because you can bypass the self-righteous and arrogant servers and are spared of their feigned courtesies (namely, those servers at One Market and Roy's). Furthermore, you can revel in the satisfaction of knowing that Mission Street Food is backed up by Myint's Bar Tartine pedigree.
Mission Street Food features different chefs and foods every Thursday and Saturday. Thus, Chef Myint gives sous chefs and line chefs from big name restaurants the opportunity at an intense cooking and serving experience, while offering the public fine dining at ridiculously low prices. Best of all, the profits from the endeavor go to charities.
I'm not going to go in further detail about the restaurant itself, since I've already dedicated quite a bit of verbiage to it already. I'm now going to talk about what Mission Street Food stresses as most important. The food. The menu that evening was especially appealing.
First, my friends and I started with a creamy celery root soup made with melted leeks. The soup was imbued with the vitamin-like flavors of expensive saffron threads and decadent brown Strauss butter and was topped with (1) a verdant spoonful of stinging nettle-meyer lemon puree and (2) croutons made of Tartine's walnut and green garlic levain (sourdough) knoll. The intoxicating fragrance of the saffron floated like a sweet cloud over the pool of soup. With each bite, I gently reached my spoon to swirl the pool of green puree further into the recess of my bowl. The lemon was not overpowering and almost undetectable. There was a mild, dissipating sourness accompanied by a warming, soothing heartiness.
Next, my friends and I shared the brisket sandwich. The brisket from San Francisco's Broken Record bar was slathered heartily between a homemade buttery focaccia bun. The bread was fluffy and substantial and the best part of the sandwich, in my opinion. The sandwich came dressed with a sweet onion soubise (onions sauteed with cream), a surprisingly mild dollop of horseradish creme fraiche, and allegedly, a fennel pickle, which I didn't see or taste. Something in the sweet onion soubise made it surprisingly akin to the sweetness in shredded coleslaw. The tendrils of pulled brisket were saturated with cloying barbecue sauce, which I lovingly mopped up with a piece of the focaccia bun.
Onto my favorite item of the evening. Based on my whopping two pictures dedicated to Mission Street Food's signature flatbreads, you can rest assured that I wholeheartedly enjoyed them. The toothsome, crispy, greased flatbread was reminiscent of a chewy Native American fry bread, and loaded with a generous helping of softened king trumpet mushrooms, cubes of triple-fried potato, garlic confit (which I believe is garlic slow-cooked in fat), and sour cream seasoned with charred scallions. Unfortunately, I scarfed down these flatbread tacos a little too quickly to isolate the garlic and the scallion flavors and textures, but the explosive tang of the sour cream against the crisp and doughy bread was enough to captivate my full attention.
Another surprising favorite was the Bolinas goat stroganoff. The stroganoff came dressed with supple slices of wilted and braised fennel, juniper, and deep-fried chevre dumplings. All in all, I was quite pleased by my first "goat" experience. The overall flavor of the goat is almost indistinguishable from beef and unlike lamb, there is no gamey lamb aftertaste. However, there was a little "toughness" from the meat and a lack of supple juiciness. However, the luscious and lubricating fat rimming the pieces of goat meat moistened my tongue and helped the meat to slip in my mouth quite enjoyably. The stroganoff came with pockets of softened fennel, which had absorbed the savory stroganoff cream sauce; thick pappardelle-like pasta noodles; and beignets made of dough and chevre. When I read "chevre dumplings" on the menu, I expected deep-fried mozzarella stick-like chevre, filled with oozing chevre cheese. Instead, the battered dumplings were thick with a dough and did lack the potency of electrifying chevre flavor. "Perhaps the dough had absorbed the chevre," I pondered.
To close our evening, my friends and I shared a seis leches cake with clusters of huckleberries, leaves of marjoram, and a drizzling of sauterne wine. This was my first experience with huckleberries. I found them to be similar to "tougher" blueberries with a tighter, more tense, more resistant skin, which was not as delicate as a nectarine, but not as tough as an apple's skin. The potent aftertaste of the miniature blueberries honestly reminded me of the gamey flavor of lamb. Unlike other tres leches cakes that I have had in the past, the seis leches cake did not exude milk from its spongy cake crannies when I cut off a piece with my fork. The cake was moist, but not overly so. The jarring flavors of the marjoram sang in my mouth and the sweet white sauterne dessert wine added a deft finish and a slap to my flushed cheeks.
Finally, my friends and I also shared Humphry Slocombe's "secret breakfast." The frosty orb of cream, bourbon, and sugared coated corn flakes came with a faint taste of sweet egg nog, and coated my mouth in sweet milky fat.
I wholeheartedly appreciated this Mission Street Food experience, and would definitely return again. And I hope you try it out soon. Check out their blog for more details on guest chefs for the week!
San Francisco is filled with Asian dessert shops, many of which are open late into the evening. A few Mondays ago, before the beau and I were ready to call it a night, the beau impetuously whisked me off to Creations Dessert House, one of the more popular Asian dessert shops in the City.
The beau and I love black sesame desserts--the nutty and husky sesame flavor is powerful and lingers on one's tongue after each lasting taste. (The provocative and full-bodied flavor of black sesame seeds is almost as potent as coffee.) Therefore, imagine our surprise when we saw black sesame ice cream on the menu!
We decided to share a serving of black sesame ice cream topped chunks of mango, slices of kiwi, cubes of canned lychee, and melon balls. Unfortunately, Creations' black sesame ice cream didn't live up to our lofty sesame seed expectations. The black sesame ice cream didn't taste like ice cream, for it wasn't creamy at all. Rather, the frozen concoction was chalky and gritty from the large sesame particles and ice crystals. Furthermore, though the fruit was fresh and unblemished, the mangoes were a little too sour when compared to the sugary sesame ice.
Nevertheless, I would probably go back to Creations again, to test out their other "creations." If you are thinking about burning the midnight oil and are looking for a place open late (but don't want 24-hr fast food), check out Asian dessert shops, which are located throughout the City!
A few weeks ago, I met with a friend of mine for a leisurely lunch. We deliberately left our schedule open, for we planned on doing nothing except enjoying each other's company. We wanted to spend our day aimlessly browsing the designer shops, contentedly window shopping, and delightfully gazing at the idyllic scenery in hazy San Francisco.
My friend and I met at one of my favorite San Francisco restaurants, La Mediterranee. There, I ordered the lunch special, which came with a creamy, silken yogurt soup to start. The decadent and lemony soup invigorated my palate, and whetted my appetite for more. The taste and consistency of the soup reminded me of a homey cream of broccoli soup. For my main dish, I enjoyed a protein trio consisting of (1) chicken pomegranate, a fall-of-the-bone dark meat drumstick marinated, basted, and slowly baked in a sweet and slightly acidic pomegranate sauce with wild herbs, (2) a crisp filo levantine meat tart filled with lean ground beef and toasted pine nuts, and (3) chicken cilicia seasoned with cinnamon-spiced chicken and served over golden rice pilaf tossed with crispy almond slivers, chickpeas, and raisins. The chicken cilicia also came in a golden-brown filo wrapper, and exhibited a perfect balance of complimentary sweet, sour, and savory flavors with the hot chickeny interior and sweet dusting of powdered sugar. I also enjoyed the pillowy wedges of warm pita, which I dipped in a small mound of tahini-rich hummus.
After our filling and satisfying meal, we stopped by Dosa, a trendy and new Indian restaurant, to appreciate the luxuriously designed restaurant space, which oddly was once occupied by Goodwill. The vividly colored hanging chandeliers glittered and sparkled with their feathery and beaded outgrowths. We decided to order some refreshments, and I went with the sweet mango lassi, which had a hint of mint and a rich, smooth, custardy consistency.
As we wandered from shop to shop, we made our last stop in Japantown. First, we visited the Hotel Kabuki, to visit their beautiful tea garden and watch the peaceful koi fish eagerly encircle the whispering waterfall. Next, we stopped by San Francisco's Benkyodo Co., where we snacked on their "manju of the month," a sticky rice flour mochi cake filled with supple marshmallow and chocolate filling. As we dusted the sweet manju flour from our lips, we took a last stroll around Japantown, and a few hours later, concluded our restful and enjoyable mini-tour of San Francisco.
I hope my day gave you some ideas of where to visit if you ever come to San Francisco. All of these places are within walking distance of one another!
Rather, it is "Monterey Park Food," which can be found at a three-word restaurant, "Mandarin Noodle House."
For those of you unfamiliar with Monterey Park, it is home to one of the largest ethnic Taiwanese enclaves in the United States. My beau (a Taiwanese man) calls Monterey Park the "promised land" because of its authentic and affordable Chinese/Taiwanese food. Therefore, for a friend's recent wedding (after the back-to-back scheduled events of the rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, and wedding) we snuck away to Mandarin Noodle House, a typical Monterey Park establishment, right before zooming off to LAX for the long trek back home.
There are several classic "must have" items at Mandarin Noodle House.
First, their Chinese beef noodle soup, or niu row mein, is one such "must have." The soup is made with thick and gummy handmade fettuccine-like noodles, and enlivened with bright and zesty cilantro sprigs and coarsely chopped scallions. The warm soup is powered by a rich broth and the cutting flavors of star anise and cinnamon. And the slow-cooked beef is fall-off-the-bone tender--even though there is no bone for it to fall off from. Look at these handmade noodles!
And their potstickers are almost as good as how my mom makes them.
The key word in that sentence: "almost."
The doughy skins of Mandarin Noodle House's potstickers gingerly hold together the pork filling, and the bottoms of the potstickers are seared in a hot skillet, until the bottom portion of the dough forms a thin, crisp crust.
I recommend for you to try those two dishes, but if you are trying out a Chinese/Taiwanese restaurant, you should also explore other options, such as these beef-filled rolls with sweet hoisin sauce, cilantro, and scallions. Let me warn you, you won't find any items like "chop suey," "General Tso's Chicken," or "sweet and sour pork" on the menus of restaurants like these.
Hey, I'm on a roll (pun not intended), so I might as well add a few words about another restaurant to which my beau and Short Exact introduced me a while back, "Shanghai Dumpling King." Shanghai Dumpling King, which is conveniently also three words, serves classic Chinese/Taiwanese-style dishes. You can also get potstickers, pan-fried scallion flatbreads (awkwardly translated in Chinese restaurants as green onion pancakes), and great beef noodle soup there too. However, the only thing is that Shanghai Dumpling King is in the Bay Area, not in Monterey Park! I just wanted to mention it, to point out another critical item to order at a good Chinese/Taiwanese restaurant: shao loeng baos, which are steamed dumplings with ground pork and hot pork broth precariously sealed inside of them.
If looks could kill, I would be D.O.A. at these restaurants.
Unfortunately, after my own cursory hunting, I was unable to find any authentic Chinese/Taiwanese restaurants in the Greater New Orleans area, but if you know of any off the beaten path, please share the love!
I hope that this post opened your eyes about Chinese/Taiwanese food, and has encouraged you to try some in your area, in the near future!
The day after my wedding in San Francisco (this past July), I wanted to end my wedding diet the right way. So my first stop for breakfast (before the flight back to New Orleans) was Tartine Bakery, where I have had many a delicious eclair and buttery pain au chocolat in the past. However, I wasn't in an eclair or croissant-y mood at that moment. When I entered Tartine Bakery, it was clear that the towering slice of devils food cake had my name written all over it. Therefore, I gladly obliged my urges and ordered the chocolate.
Tartine Bakery's devils food cake is made with ultra-rich, and ultra-decadent Valrhona dark chocolate and ample amounts of real butter. The thick, brownie-like cake layers are alternated with oozing caramel and solid chocolate ganache. The ganache is a meal in an of itself. It is thick like refrigerated peanut butter, and so chocolately, that it tastes more intensely bittersweet than a dark chocolate bar, swallowed up whole in one huge mouthful. Best of all, the exposed top and side surfaces of the cake are generously dusted with cocoa powder--yes, even more chocolate. One bite of the cake, and you will immediately realize this cake is truly a chocolate lover's fantasy come true.
