Making a Slanted Face at the Slanted Door

After spending $70+ hoo-hahs on my dinner at Jardiniere, I decided to continue my exorbitant spending and dine at the Slanted Door in the San Francisco's picturesque Ferry Building for lunch with my co-worker's last week. First, let me give you a little background on the Ferry Building. After being renovated and transformed into one of the city's architectural masterpieces, the Ferry Building is the ultimate gathering ground for a Bay Area gourmand. The Ferry Building restaurants alone merit the Passionate Eater Seal of Approval. In addition, the weekly farmer's market attracts throngs of eager crowds who congregate around the abundant vegetable stands. The fragrances from pollened blossoms, and voluptuous fruits are invigorating for any passerby, chef or non-chef.

Getting back to my lunch experience. . . I had towering expectations for the Slanted Door. Although I am not the type to fervently hop on any ole' bandwagon, I tend to trust restaurant hype from my friends, and I had heard good things about the Slanted Door.

To start, our table ordered the "friend-recommended" green papaya salad with tofu, rau ram and roasted peanuts. The salad was fresh and light, and absolutely wonderful. The tofu had absorbed all of the acidic tang from the fish sauce and citrus flavorings, and the roasted peanuts provided a delectable crunch.

Our order of spicy Monterey squid with pineapple, sweet red peppers, peron chilies and Thai basil was equally fabulous. The chef immaculately balanced the contrasting flavors of spicy, sweet, and salty with the unique and rubbery texture of the fresh sea squid. However, because I kept hearing the echoing voices of my Vietnamese family remaking on the hefty price tag of the dish, it was a little less pleasurable than it would have been otherwise.

Unfortunately, my experience quickly turned sour. I was disenchanted by the grilled chicken over rice noodles with imperial rolls, cucumber and mint. I mean, come on now. I order this stuff take-out from the Vietnamese restaurant next-door at least once a week, except there, I only pay $3.99 for it, and not $9.50. Now I am not one to "bag on my ethnic homie," but I was not impressed. A restaurant of Slanted Door's stature should not be making this dish without some sort of gourmet twist, unique ingredient addition, or ostentatious presentation.

I felt the same about the spicy Japanese eggplant with green onions and coconut milk. My Dad makes this stuff for under $5 bucks for the entire family of four, and you're telling me I paid what?!?

As I polished off my meal, I came to the wise conclusion, that when you set your expectations too high, you are setting yourself up for disappointment. My Slanted Door experience had been marred by the vehement praise of the many Slanted Door lovers that came before me. Ironically, my overall dining experience wasn't bad. I enjoyed the food, but it is just hard for me to get used to treating common foods that I grew up eating as "haute gourmet cuisine."

Midnight in the Jardiniere of Good and Evil

One of my boyfriend's friends just ended her job as a pastry chef at Jardiniere in San Francisco, and she invited a group of friends to celebrate her move to new horizons, and to enjoy the benefits from her employee-discount for one last time.

Given that it is directly adjacent to the San Francisco Symphony Hall, Jardiniere has the best "location, location, location" to cater to wealthy symphony-goers. It lies in San Francisco's Hayes Valley, which is within walking distance to San Francisco's Civic Center, and thus, it acts as the buffer (comprised of upper-end restaurants) between City Hall and the innards of the city. Another restaurant in Hayes Valley (that I have posted about before), is Absinthe. Although we not on our way to or from the symphony or the nearby performing arts theaters or ballet house, we were about to enjoy a visually-captivating performance, not by actors, but by the chefs of Jardiniere.

The entire experience at Jardiniere was indescribable. The night was one of excess. We overdrank, we overate, and we stayed out until the wee hours of the morning.

Because we were guests of a Jardiniere employee, we were able to dine in the exclusive "wine room," a room that had to be reserved with a $500 room fee--if you cancel and they are unable to fill the room, they keep your $500. In the room, we sat amongst towering shelves stocked with wines that cost more than a month's salary--meaning that "one bottle of wine cost more than a month's salary," that is. None of us dared to approach the wines too closely, or even lift the bottles to inspect the labels, for fear of the secret hi-tech security system that would laser off our corneas and two layers of our skin. (With vintage wines imported from the finest wineries in Europe, you never know what measures the owner will take to protect it.)

Although we sat in the "wine room," we actually brought our own wine to enjoy with the meal. By bringing our own wine, we'd get to reduce some of the cost of the final bill. Plus, because of the generosity of our Jardiniere friend, we'd also get to circumvent the $15 corkage fee per bottle of wine. Everyone brought wine, and it was fun to drink wines ranging from Robert Mondavi to Charles Shaw ("$2-Buck Chuck") at the restaurant.

The experience was a barrage of flavors, overwhelming at times. The food was fabulous, but not everything tasted terrific. Too much wine dulled my taste buds and my senses, but overall, it was a gourmet extravaganza--an experience of a lifetime.

Because we ate so many different dishes, it would be a tremendous disservice to try to describe some dishes and neglect others. Furthermore, given the deluge of tastes, images, and textures that I experienced throughout the night, I don't feel that I could adequately do justice to any of them. However, being the "obedient" food blogger that I am, I did snap plenty of pictures, so that you can still get a visual taste of the dishes I sampled that night. (The quality of the pictures varies based on whether I used flash, and unfortunately, I didn't use the flash consistently.) Also, although we all shared the appetizers, we ate our main courses individually. However, not everyone tried every appetizer. Consequently, I can't remember what I didn't try, so here is my "best" attempt at labeling the pictures:

First Courses

Maine diver scallops with sautéed mushrooms, smoked bacon, Italian parsley and toasted almonds

Salad of little gems lettuce with chioggia beets and parmigiano-reggiano and green goddess vinaigrette

Duck confit with salad of marinated le puy lentils and heirloom oranges, red wine-honey reduction

Duck liver mousse with garlic croutons and housemade pickles

Gnocchi (I don't remember the full name, but I remember it was "gnocchi.")

Mackerel (I don't remember the full name, but I remember it was "mackerel.")

(I have no idea.)

Arugula, endive and frisée salad with roquefort, grained mustard vinaigrette

(Again, I am dumbfounded. What is this?)

Tombo tuna “crudo” with olive oil poached cardoons, mediterranean cucumbers, crispy fennel and tonnato sauce (I think.)

Second Courses

Hoffman ranch breast of chicken with rapini, capers, chanterelle mushrooms and meyer lemon potato mousseline, natural jus

Red wine braised beef shortribs with horseradish potato purée and herb salad

Petrale sole with Pacific shrimp, artichokes, fingerling potatoes, tomato confit, and lettuce emulsion (This is my main course. It was "okay," but not great. The fish was a little overcooked, and the flavors were bland. But doesn't it look dee-lightful?!?)

Dry aged New York steak with slow cooked broccoli, garlic and lemon, fingerling potatoes, niçoise olive jus

Wild mushroom and potato pavé with local chanterelle salad, caramelized onion and red wine-mushroom sauce

Third Courses

Apple pie à la mode

Carrot cake à la mode

Bonne bouche platter

Creme brulée

Housemade ice cream

Lemon meringue “Napoleon” with passion fruit sauce, macadamia nut tuile

Bittersweet chocolate cake with port-sour cherry ice cream

It was an hour-and-a-half past midnight when we left the restaurant, as the sole stragglers in the building. We had arrived around eight o'clock. Our "lengthy" meal at Jardiniere was diametrically opposite from our reception and treatment during Dine About Town. (When we dined at Rubicon, we were literally in an out in about an hour.) However, at Jardiniere, although we left late, we left with stomachs full with a memorable meal and with hearts full of happiness.

Working Eater Series: One-Pot Curry Kabocha Squash Soup

My co-workers and I have been talking a lot about using the crock-pot to make ready-to-eat dinners during the busy work week. Ever since our discussions, I've been noticing a plethora of cookbooks, websites, and magazine articles dedicated to using the crock-pot to make diverse and innovative meals. In fact, the crock-pot seems to be making a comeback as a viable cooking method for everyday Americans. However, crock-pots do have their limitations--they are only good for making foods with a high liquid content, such as stews and soups. Thus, even if you are one of those crock-pot junkies who knows how to make hot porridge and cake with your crock pot, you'll still have to get used to eating every meal with a spoon.

In the second installment to the Working Eater Series, I am featuring a recipe inspired by the crock-pot cooking method, but that can be made by someone who doesn't even own a crock-pot! Furthermore, because this soup is cooked on high heat, this recipe is a speedy and preferable alternative to a languid slow cooker.

Rustic, One-Pot Curry Kabocha Squash Soup
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, finely minced
2 tsp of curry powder (preferably Madras brand--as it is my family's favorite)
1/4 tsp turmeric powder
1/4 tsp cumin powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 medium kabocha squash, cubed into dice-sized pieces (you can find this type of squash in Asian supermarkets)
1 can of chicken stock, plus 1 1/2 cans of water to "extend" the stock (you can also use whole milk instead of water, to make the soup creamier, but then you must stir the soup constantly to prevent the pot from overboiling and the milk from forming a tough film on the bottom of the pot)
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

In a large pot, heat the oil on high heat until shimmering. Add the chopped yellow onions, and fry until the onions begin to turn translucent. Add the garlic and fry until the onions and garlic begin to slightly caramelize.

Add the dry spices and the kabocha squash, and stir rapidly, to prevent the dry spices from burning and to fully mix the dry and wet ingredients.

Add the stock and water, and bring the soup to a rolling boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer, and cook until the squash is fork-tender.

Serve the soup with wilted spinach.

If you'd like to have meat with this soup, I would suggest adding roasted chicken or turkey breast.

For the "working eaters," if you don't have enough time to roast poultry, you could also buy a roast chicken from the supermarket, and use a fork to separate the breast meat from the bone. Add the shredded breast meat to the soup, so the meal is still a one-pot (and a one-bowl) meal! Hey, to save on time, you need to save on dishes too!

Yeecch, I Don't Feel Like Chicken Tonight

My friend and I tried making roast lemon chicken without a recipe, and it was a tasteless, lifeless disaster. This was just another meal that taught me that I shouldn't try making difficult foods without guidance, especially when I have never made it before.

Let me outline my mistakes one-by-one, so that this will be a foreboding warning for you, of what not to do.

The first thing we did, was insert thin slices of lemon and bay leaves under the loosened chicken breast skin. We placed them in a decorative, alternating pattern: two bay leaves, one lemon slice. We also put quartered yellow onions, garlic cloves, and halved lemons into the chicken cavity. We envisioned a roast chicken, with a golden and crispy skin, glittering with spices, and moist and tender to the bite.

However, we quickly ran into trouble. We failed to fully defrost the chicken before our attempts, so the cold icy chicken numbed our hands when we robotically handled it and the chicken skin "broke" off in grotesque clumps. Plus, we were really hungry, and this caused us to take a lot of shortcuts and to be overly abusive to the chicken and to each other. Furthermore, the spiny bay leaf stems speared open the skin, or what was left of it. Simply put, the chicken got the better of us, as evidenced by the pictures.

What came out was a sloppy chicken, not a beautiful bronze, but a bleached out, dingy yellow. The skin wasn't crispy and delicious, but flaccid like a latex glove. And even though we had cooked it for over 50 minutes, the inside still had traces of blood. Eww eww.

Any suggestions as to how I can improve this disaster the next time, to at least make it somewhat edible?

The only redeeming qualities of the meal was the asparagus, which thankfully, did not taste like ass-paragus.

Although I just "caught" your attention with a "disaster," I'd now like to talk about an incredible success: my meeting with the writer and head chef of Eat, Drink, and Be Merry. He just posted about it today! He is a very intelligent and well-spoken gentlemen (or an all-around "friendly guy" as he likes to be called), and I encourage you to check out his site for recipe ideas, restaurant reviews, or just to learn about food in general from someone who loves food and who will become a world-renowned chef very soon.

I'll Be Back (Soon)

Sorry for the extreme lack of posts lately! I just finished taking a nice vacation from work, and will be back this week to post and reply to your comments! Keep on visiting friends, I'll try to post some creative recipes tomorrow night!

Fore!! Four Meme

I was tagged by The Food Pornographer way back in January, and wanted to finally put up my meme reply:


Four Jobs Once Held By Me
1. Waitress (I felt like I was a good waitress, but the best tip I ever received was for $11.00 ... Hmm... Wonder if that says anything about the quality of my service.)
2. Grocery Store Cashier
3. IT Help Desk Supervisor
4. Teaching Assistant at the University Level

Four Favorite Movies
1. It's a Wonderful Life
2. The Sting
3. Hidalgo
4. Catch Me If You Can

Four Places I Have Lived
1. Tempe, Arizona (I spent my childhood and the majority of my life in Arizona, so on this is the most meaningful place on the list.)
2. Farmingdale, New Jersey
3. Seattle, Washington
4. Los Angeles, California

Four Television Shows I Enjoy
1. 24
2. Sex in the City
3. America's Test Kitchen
4. Gray’s Anatomy

Four Favorite Books
1. Catcher in the Rye
2. The Chosen
3. Culinaria Spain
4. Wei-Chuan's Chinese Snacks

Four Places You Have Been on Vacation (Holiday)
1. Salt Lake City, Utah
2. New York, New York
3. Washington D.C.
4. Las Vegas, Nevada

Four Websites You Visit Daily (In addition to the food blogs …)
1. MSNBC
2. Comics.com
3. CNN
4. Daily Dish

Four Favorite Foods (Since you already know my Top Ten, here are foods I love, but that I would never share about on my own accord … Until now!)
1. Canned Franco-American Spaghetti Os
2. Canned Chef Boyardee Ravioli
3. Bananas Wrapped in American Cheese (I learned this from Mister Roger’s Neighborhood)
4. Sardine, Liverwurst, and Sauerkraut Sandwiches

Four Places I’d Rather Be
1. Lying on the Beach
2. In the Kitchen
3. Lying Down in the Grass at the Park (with a Wallet as my Pillow)
4. Lounging in a Jacuzzi with a Cool Beverage

Four Things To Do Before I Die
1. Audition (and Get a Role) for a Film with George Clooney
2. Have Wolfgang Puck (or Eat, Drink, & Be Merry) Cater My Wedding
3. Master a Foreign Language
4. Eat at French Laundry

Four Play (Tag):
Anyone who likes memes!

Making Valentine's Day Into a "Carving Holiday"

I am out on a one-woman crusade to make Saint Valentine's Day more enjoyable for passionate eaters, and what better way to make it so, than officially electing it to be another "carving holiday!"

Valentine's Day is such an awkward holiday. It is a holiday that denigrates singledom at the expense of celebrating coupledom. Okay, maybe a little bit of bitterness is seeping in from my past experiences, but c'mon now. It's not like you can go out to eat with a group of your rowdy same-sex friends on Valentine's and not expect to get scowls from the quiet couples who are hunched over their meal. Plus, have you ever gone out to even get take-out on Valentine's Day? I thought so. Me either. It is way too embarrassing to take the "Walk of Shame" to pick up your $5.99 fried rice, as you try not to make eye contact with giggling couples on the sidewalk, because they'll know you are really "alone." I'd rather hide out in my apartment with the blinds drawn, and eat my cold can of pork and beans in front of syndicated reruns, thank you.

Even if you do have a significant other, it is hard to full enjoy a delicious meal without fear of the Valentine's-Day-ramifications. You know what I mean. You want to look your sexiest in your tight-fitting black dress, or your starched and tailored tuxedo, and that means eschewing seconds, and lightly nibbling on the rich chocolate dessert. Simply put, Valentine's is not the time to wear baggy, plaid-patterned elastic pants, and it is not good to look like you have a bun in the oven, when the "bun" is really dinner from that night.

So I've decided that I am changing the way I celebrate Valentine's Day, and I'm making it into a holiday where I still celebrate love, but not in the traditional sense. I am going to celebrate love generally, or my love for friends and family, single or attached.

What better way to celebrate "love," than by making a huge Valentine's feast? I know that couples generally make romantic dinners together for Valentine's, but I'm talking about a big feast--the kind that requires you to bring out the carving knife. This calls for drippings, juices, gravies, and hot steam wafting up into your nostrils! Plus, my justification is that the caloric-intake from scarfing down all of the Valentine's Day chocolates throughout the day roughly equates to having a big, meaty meal.

This is my plan. On the Fourth of July, it's barbeque ribs. On Thanksgiving, it's turkey. On Christmas, it's a beef roast. On Valentine's Day, it's anything you want, as long as you love what you'll be eating, and you share it with someone you love.

I hope that this post has piqued your interest, and that you'll consider having Valentine's Day of "carving" proportions this year!