I'm not a vegetarian. It's not that I have anything against it really, I'm just far too hedonistic to limit myself. So with a healthy dose of hedonism—and summer's wares peaking—I find myself gorging on more and more vegetables and fruits fresh from the market. Meat has taken a backseat. I'd rather bite into a big juicy tomato than a big juicy steak.

And, as in my last post on market suppers, I'm constantly looking for new and delectable ways to eat them—even though currently it seems to be raw, out of hand, and with little or no embellishment. When I'm feeling a bit more inspired, and have a little extra pastry dough on hand (which is actually quite often as I make way more than I need and store extra disks in my freezer), I love tucking whatever leftover vegetables that need to be eaten into a quiche or tart, like this one. It is deliciously simple and gooey with three different kinds of cheese.

The recipe below is for a zucchini tart, because I can't seem to stop loading up on them each week at the market. But to make this an any-kind-of-vegetable tart, replace the zucchini with about 1/2 cup sautéed leeks; blanched asparagus, green beans or chopped broccoli or cauliflower; freshly cooked chopped spinach or other greens; fresh, chopped tomatoes; fresh corn kernels; or a mixture of any of these. You can also add a sprinkle of fresh herbs, like basil, marjoram, oregano, chives, or swap out the cheeses for your favorite.

The point is, this is an extremely versatile way to make your own seasonal specialty. Or just find something new to do with that bounty of fresh veggies you have in your fridge.

Zucchini (Or Any Veggie) Tart

Makes: One 10-inch tart

Ingredients:
One 10-inch tart pan lined with flaky pie dough (see recipe below or use your favorite recipe)
3 zucchini, trimmed
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup cubed fresh mozzarella
3 eggs
1/4 cup crème fraiche or sour cream
1/4 cup milk
1/3 cup shredded fontina cheese
3 tablespoons grated Parmesan

Preparation:
1. Preheat the oven to 400F. Line the tart pan with the dough, then line the dough with foil. Fill with ceramic pie weights or beans or rice. Place the tart shell on a baking sheet and bake until it starts to dry out, about 15 minutes. Remove the foil and weights and continue to bake until very light golden brown. Remove from the oven and set aside.

2. While the tart shell is baking, shred the zucchini on the large holes of a box grater-shredder onto paper towels. Spread evenly and sprinkle with salt. Let sit for about 20 minutes. Using paper towels, blot the zucchini dry (try to get it as dry as possible).

3. Sprinkle the zucchini and mozzarella evenly in the lined tart pan. In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, crème fraiche, and milk. Season with salt and pepper. Pour evenly over the zucchini. Sprinkle the fontina and Parmesan evenly over the top.

4. Bake until the filling is set and the top is golden brown, about 25 minutes. If you want to get the cheese extra bubbly and brown, place under the broiler for a minute. Let sit for a few minutes before cutting into wedges and serving.

Flaky Pie Dough

Makes: Enough for two 10-inch tarts

Ingredients:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
12 tablespoons very cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1/3 cup ice water + 1 tablespoon

Preparation:
1. To make the crust, in the bowl of a food processor, stir together the flour, and salt. Sprinkle the butter over the top and process for a few seconds, or just until the butter is slightly broken up into the flour but still in visible pieces. Sprinkle the water over the flour mixture evenly, then process until the mixture just starts to come together.

2. Dump the mixture out of the bowl onto 2 large sheets of plastic wrap. Press the dough together into a mound and then wrap with plastic and press into a flat disk. Refrigerate the dough until chilled, about 30 minutes or up to 1 day, or freeze for up to 1 month.

It's heirloom tomato season! The folks over at Visa and the chefs of the Golden Gate Restaurant Association wisely recognized that's reason enough to celebrate. Beginning next week over 52 restaurants and chefs are putting together special themed tasting menus including Chris Cosentino of Incanto, Bruce Hill of Bix, Traci des Jardins of Jardinière and Acme Chop House, and Craig Stoll of Delfina. Pay for your meal with a Visa Signature card you will also receive a tomato commemorative book, including special recipes from the chefs and restaurants involved in the event.


What: Heirloom Tomato Week

When: August 14-24 plus a tasting event August 7-9 at Union Square.

Where: Selected San Francisco restaurants

How: Dine at any of the participating restaurants, by booking at OpenTable

Why: Let's put that nasty salmonella outbreak behind us once and for all, and enjoy the pure pleasure of tomatoes again.

Here's an example of an heirloom tasting menu with wine pairing, from one of the participating restaurants, Plumpjack Cafe :

Heirloom tomato salad
Tarragon Aioli, Banyuls Vinegar, Onion Marmalade

Cambiata Albarino 2007 Monterey

Seared day boat scallops
Golden Tomato Vinaigrette, Savoy Spinach

Dom. de la Chapelle Macon Soultre Pouilly 2007 France

Tomato braised kurobuta pork shoulder
Pimenton de Padron, Summer Squash, Moroccan Black Olives

Lagerla Rosso di Montalcino 2004 Italy

Selection of cheeses
Heirloom Tomato Condiments, Toasted Peasant Bread

Lustau “Emilin” Moscatel Sherry Spain

Tasting menu is $45 and optional wine pairing $21

Want to enjoy the best Summer produce at home? Here's a recipe adapted from Barilla Pasta.

Summer Spaghetti

1 lb whole grain spaghetti
2 Tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic
1 small white onion, finely chopped
1 yellow bell pepper, julienned
2 cups zucchini, diced
2 cups yellow squash, diced
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
Salt and black pepper, to taste
4 fresh basil leaves, torn

Cook pasta according to package directions.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet. Using the side of a knife, gently press and peel the garlic and sauté in skillet for 1 minute, or until slightly brown. Add onion and sauté for 5 minutes, or until translucent. Add bell pepper, zucchini, yellow squash and sauté until heated but not completely cooked. Add tomatoes, season with salt and pepper and sauté for 2 additional minutes.

Drain pasta, add to skillet and toss with basil before serving.

As I sat at my desk this morning and noshed on delicious potato chips from La Palma Mexicatessen, I realized that I've taken it for granted that every San Franciscan foodie knows about these delightful treats. Were YOU aware that La Palma sells, arguably, the best potato chips in the city?

Walk into La Palma Mexicatessen, and the impulse is to walk straight to the back. It's where the action is. There, you can purchase hot foods, freshly made tortillas, and party-sized amounts of rice and beans to go. I have often used La Palma for dinner parties and days when I don't want to cook. Their chile relleno is great, doused in a red chile sauce, and I dream about La Palma's carnitas.

The three small aisles of La Palma carry Mexican staples -- everything from queso fresco to paletas to cans of salsa to tortilla presses.

But, the best thing about La Palma is their patatas fritas, or potato chips. They are tucked into the middle of the aisle across from the coolers in a bin full of bags of chips. Each bag has a packet of Tapatio hot sauce (click through to hear their catchy tune) to dress your chips.

Jim Leff, founder of Chowhound, did an extensive potato chip survey of the United States a few years back and has said about La Palma, "They make the best potato chips anywhere in the continental U.S.--fried up in yummy corn oil." And Sara Deseran of 7x7 Magazine declared them "perfect with a martini." Personally, I love their perfect thickness and satisfying crunch. At home, I sometimes add some lime to my Tapatio topping.

So next time you're on 24th Street in the Mission, make sure you pop into La Palma and pick up a bag of these tasty chips. They make a magnificent breakfast.

La Palma Mexicatessen
2884 24th Street (at Florida)
415.647.1500
map

(Photo by brandondesigns)

As summer reaches its August peak (yes, it's foggy this morning in San Francisco) and as families get desperately creative with their staycations, I've been reminiscing about those old car trips of my youth: my mom hopelessly lost somewhere between Denver and St. Louis, my sister and I -- oblivious in the backseat -- singing "Popeye, the Sailor Man!" over and over and over and over, and our many stops at Church's Chicken and Taco Bell, the two places we were guaranteed to find spicy food.

Remember those days, long before Chowhound and Yelp, Google and Mapquest, when forays into new culinary terrain were truly crapshoots? (Cue up the old-timey nostalgia music...) To find good food in an unfamiliar town, you had to depend on three important tricks: Identifying well-fed locals with a keen sense of direction. Quickly judging a restaurant by the number and types of vehicles parked out front (or be strong enough to enter, scope out the menu and dining room, and then opt to leave a restaurant with absolutely no shame at all). And, most crucial of all, befriending taxi drivers and policemen.

Mom's Mad Skillz

Twenty-five years ago my mom, still shy and still learning English, had her own bag of tricks. She'd stop at a phone booth (OMG--remember those!), heft up the dangling white pages from its metallic tether, and scan the family names for Trans, Nguyens, Lams, Les and Dos. Then she'd invest the quarter or two needed to call up fellow exiles, introduce herself as some stranger rolling through town, and then quickly get to the point: where can I find some good food in these parts?

She recently visited me here in California, and I was reminded of her treasure hunting skills. As one of the last people in this country who still don't have an email account, she depends on the old ways. After we picked her up from the Oakland airport, she wanted to stop for a bowl of pho. We scrambled, with our iPhones and our keyword searches, to come up with a place that would hold up to her standards. While we were still trying to locate a good signal, she pointed us over to a group of people who looked suspiciously Vietnamese standing on a corner of International Boulevard. She rolled down the window and asked them where to eat. They gestured to two pho houses nearby. She asked them point-blank: Which one is better? Without hesitating, they pointed to…Pho Ao Sen.

And to the best bowl of pho I've enjoyed in a very long time. Yes, it's a dirty secret that San Francisco is severely lacking in this department. I've accepted mediocre noodles and, worse, lackluster broths as my penance for choosing not to live an hour south of here.

The Whole Chicken

Since pho bo has entered the general lexicon, I won't waste space talking about the beef version. However, I would very much like to encourage you to try pho ga long trung non. Roughly translated, that means chicken and rice noodle soup with innards and young eggs. (Queasy eaters might want to skip the next paragraph.)

If you've ever butchered a chicken, you'll know that along the ovary duct one or two diminutive yolks are awaiting nature's application of egg whites and eggshells. And if you grew up with my mom, you'll also know that gizzards, livers and hearts are delicacies worth fighting over at the dinner table. Even more than a well-executed bowl of beef soup, I admire a restaurant that can create a deeply flavored chicken broth, poach high-quality firm yet tender chicken meat, and present the hallmarks of a freshly butchered chicken: a plate of organ meats and young eggs. Nothing goes to waste, and all the flavors and textures are richly balanced.

At Ao Sen, along with an excellent bowl of pho bo, they've also perfected pho ga. If a plate of innards is not high on your list, order the plain bowl that comes simply with a plate of chicken meat on the bone. Both come with a ginger dipping sauce, whose secret ingredient is obviously chicken fat, so lovely that I ended up slurping it straight from my spoon.

Another wonderful thing about this Oakland outpost is that it opens at 8am every single day of the week. Since pho is a breakfast food, I've always been annoyed by the late opening times in the US. Ao Sen fills a long empty, much mourned gap in my comfort food lineup. Even its airy dining room reminded me of Vietnam, and the familiar fragrance of anise-infused broth that greeted us hit home immediately. Weakly brewed iced green tea, fish sauce on the table, and a straightforward menu all boded well, too.

Sharing and Respecting

My husband asked me not to write about this place, as he was afraid of what might happen if the restaurant started attracting people who complained about unfamiliar food culture (someday, I'll write a piece about the unfortunate conflict between Western diners' expectations and Eastern restaurateurs) or who would change the ethnic makeup of the patrons. Call it the Yelp dip. We've seen it happen, and it's always a sad and frustrating thing to accept what success in the US can mean, in the end, for those not centered enough to know their strengths and acknowledge their limits and bravely forge their way between the two.

But I trust that you, dear reader, will enjoy and appreciate and respect this bustling noodle house. I cannot tell you how excited I am that my mother found it, and I look forward to many sated returns. If crossing the Bay Bridge counts now as a road trip, I'm more than happy to start up the car.

PHO AO SEN
200 International Blvd.
Oakland, CA 94606
(510) 839-6821
Map

It appears I can't escape food talk even when yanking out pernicious wild radish and avoiding tramping on (and killing) native plants at Land's End. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, because if we hadn't started talking about food, I wouldn't be able to present you with a new summer cocktail. Fellow volunteer, Al the Aussie, gave me leave to publish his invention: The Ginlati. (Al concedes that it could be "Ginlato," but he likes the sound of "Ginlati," and since it's his recipe, I'm not arguing if you drink multiples.)

The weather hasn't really been warm enough to make us yen for this sort of sousing, although on Thursday Al looked up at the blue sky and lack of fog and mused, "Weather like this would call for it." I looked around at all of us in fleece vests and sweatshirts and think it could stand to get hotted up a bit more.

But enough bitching -- on to the drinking!

Put a scoop of lemon gelato in a glass. ("High grade," Al says. "What kind?" I ask. "Well, it's Australian," he says. Use your favorite, I advise.) Follow the gelato with a nice slosh of gin, about 2-3 ounces. Top off with icy tonic water. (You all remember my favorite tonic water, right?) Finally, throw in a sprig of mint if you're feeling it, take the shades off all the lightbulbs, pull on a few sweaters, and frost yourself.

Oh, and think about making it the way you would a root beer float -- the gelato goes in first and rides up with the liquid, making a nice creamy head. It's damn tasty and pretty much as refreshing as you get. I put my own spin on Al's original recipe by adding a squirt of homemade limoncello, which gets you two drinks for one post, so how happy are you?

Oh, cheer up! The sun will come out...well, maybe not tomorrow but soon and hot.

(And now you have that song in your head, don't you?)

Al's Ginlati

1-2 scoops lemon gelato
2-3 ounces gin
Tonic water
Spring of fresh mint

Stephanie's Land's End

1-2 scoops lemon gelato
3 ounces limoncello
1 ounce gin
Tonic water
Spring of fresh mint

Oh, Golly. Where to start this morning?

I think I’ll just begin as I do every morning-- with fashion, diet, and exercise advice from Brenda Dickson.

There are some people in this world who spend entirely too much time on YouTube. I count myself as one of them. One of my favorite discoveries has been Miss Dickson. She’s been somewhat of a sensation on the website over the past several months, elevating an otherwise forgettable actress to cult star status.

She’s been parodied dozens of times, but her original, self-produced self-help video "Welcome to My Home" (1987) needs no added commentary to be both horrifying and hilarious-- it's so vain, yet so well intentioned that it’s impossible not to love. It is gorgeous, wonderful Camp. If you don't know what I’m talking about, I shall refer you to the late Susan Sontag-- she can explain it all to you.

And then I shall cry.

Here is part two of Miss Dickson’s video. Her diet advice begins at 4:14, but warm up a little with her exercise routine (with her dog, Charles). There is nothing more to be said, there is only to watch.

Enjoy. Just remember: Salt can make your face puffy, and sugar causes wrinkles.

Crispy fries are the greatest. When cooked well, French fries can be the highlight of an entire meal. The opposite is also true, however. Bad French fries are disappointing. Soggy French fries are disgusting. Both can ruin an otherwise good lunch or dinner. For years I was disappointed with my homemade French fries. I tried using different types of oils and frying them twice, but they always turned out slightly soggy and never had the crispy exterior I was looking for. I’ve been told that this problem is easily rectified if you own a deep fryer, but I have never wanted to purchase one of those contraptions. It wasn't until I stopped frying all together that I ended up with the crispiest fries of all. Yes, I realize you are wondering how in the world I could make crispy French fries without actually frying my potatoes, but the answer is quite simple: roasting!

My discovery occurred one day when my husband was grilling burgers. I really wanted French fries, but only had about ten minutes before dinner. I threw a few potatoes in the microwave for five minutes so they half baked. I then sliced up the potatoes. Just as I was going to fry them, I remembered I had just used the oven to bake a pie and figured I might as well see how they turned out baked. I laid the potato wedges on an oiled baking sheet and then sprayed them with olive oil and dusted them with salt and some chili powder. Tossing them into the oven, I hoped for the best. 7 minutes later, I took out the tray and was pleasantly surprised. These fries were crispier than any “fried” French fries I had ever made. The centers were fluffy and the outsides crunchy. Ever since that day I’ve turned my back on frying my fries. I now use only partially baked potatoes and then roast in a nice hot oven. A nice side benefit is that these fries are also much healthier than the fried variety and you also won’t get splattered with hot oil making them.

Roasted French: "Fried" Potatoes

Serves: 4-6

Ingredients:
4 Baking potatoes
Olive oil
Salt to taste
1/2 tsp Chili powder

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees

2. Poke potatoes with holes and microwave for five minutes. Note: I don’t peel my potatoes as they don’t bake as nicely in the microwave if they are peeled. If you prefer to have the skin removed on your fries, just let the half baked potatoes cool a bit and then peel them before slicing.

3. Slice potatoes into wedges or julienne pieces (whichever you prefer). Be careful not to burn yourself as the inside of the potatoes are hot. You can also microwave the potatoes ahead of time.

4. Oil a baking sheet

5. Lay potato slices on the baking sheet and spray some olive oil on top. If you don’t have a sprayer, just toss the potatoes in some extra oil from the pan.

6. Top with salt and a dusting of chili powder

7. Bake for about 7 minutes, or until the fries are crispy

8. Serve

I can't recall a month with more spectacular culinary programs and special events than this August. In fact, for the entire month of August the Commonwealth Club is hosting their Bay Gourmet series called "How We Eat" with what must be a record-breaking 31 events! The events actually begin tomorrow, the last day of July. It includes dinners, demonstrations, panel discussions, authors, chefs, nutritionists and more.

If you've never seen the Hungry Planet book (now out in paperback), do check out this online slideshow.


Here are a few programs that particularly caught our eye. Check out the entire schedule online.

Eating the Right Way

A panel discussion focused on optimal nutrition and minimizing the hype. Panelists will be:

Kevin Lunny, Owner, Drakes Bay Oyster Company
Jessica Prentice, Author, Full Moon Feast; Co-owner, Three Stone Hearth Community Supported Kitchen
Helene York, Director, Bon Appetit Management Company Foundation
Naomi Starkman, Communications Director, Slow Food Nation - Moderator

Where: Club Office 595 Market St., 2nd Floor San Francisco
When: August 6, 2008, 5:30 p.m. wine and cheese reception, 6 p.m. program
How: $12 Club/Slow Food Nation members, $18 non-members. Purchase tickets.

The "Other" Chinatown: Shopping with Naomi Friedman

Explore the cultural, commercial and gastronomical treats of San Francisco's Inner Richmond with Naomi Friedman, Culinary Educator. Includes lunch.

Where: Corner of Clement and 11th Ave.
When: August 9, 2008, 9:15 a.m. check-in, 9:30 a.m.- 1 p.m. program
How: Cost: $70 members, $82 non-members. Purchase tickets.

The Provenance of Beef (The Great Steak-Wine Adventure)

Enjoy an evening sure to delight the senses: an interactive steak-tasting event featuring four signature styles of beef from artisan producers of natural or organic beef, paired with four fabulous wines. Panelists:

Armand De Maigret, General Manager, Atalon, Napa Valley
Mac Magruder, Grass-Finished Beef and Pastured Pork Producer, Potter Valley
Marsha McBride, Executive Chef and Owner, Cafe Rouge
Carrie C. Oliver, Founder & CEO, The Oliver Ranch Company & Artisan Beef Institute

Where: Teatro ZinZanni, Pier 27/29, San Francisco
When: August 11, 2008, 6 p.m. check-in, 6:15-8:30 p.m. program
How: $65 members, $80 non-members. Purchase tickets

Saturday morning, market day, is a jumble of visiting with friends, purchasing food for the week, jostling with tourists, and talking to farmers. There are some weekends when the amount of energy needed for the market -- including lugging my goods home on the bus -- takes its toll. While on wintry days the market almost feels like a whisper, on summer days the market shouts at the top of its lungs for hours on end. Summer food is amplified, summer crowds are amplified, and even the number of farm booths is amplified.

Most of the local, hard-core market goers that I know won't be seen at the market after 9am on a summer Saturday morning. I tend to gamble with that rule some weeks. Sometimes it's more important to sleep in than to be the first at the market, and sometimes I have market obligations that require me to be there later. And then, all you can do is just go with the flow and be as patient as possible.

This weekend, I was at the market late. I had interviewed Ed George of the Peach Farm for CUESA's Meet the Producer series at 10.30, and wasn't at the market early enough to shop before the interview. That meant that I was still shopping close to noon. Interviewing Ed was fun -- he's a really dedicated farmer who provides produce to some of the city's best restaurants. His major crop is heirloom tomatoes, and they were beautiful on Sunday. I picked up some very small eggplants from him that I still haven't decided how to prepare.

Even at the height of the market, farmers are usually in a good mood and talkative. I purchased fresh garbanzo beans, off the stalk, from one of the Catalan daughters at Catalan Farm. I asked her if she was the one who had to de-stalk them. It's a tedious process without much yield to show for your trouble. "No, and it's a good thing," she said. "I would just throw them at my brother. We get in fights with them."

If you blink, you'll miss Short Night Farm. They are a small booth in the front of the market, and they usually only have a small amount of produce on their table. Short Night has never disappointed me and I look forward to their produce every week, so I stopped to see what they had: beautiful melons that I didn't want to carry around the market. Deciding to take the gamble that there would be some left at the end of my trip, I passed them up. "But I'll take these," I told the vendor, grabbing some lemons. She laughed that the lemons were important enough to carry but the melon wasn't. It was no joke to me -- finding locally grown citrus in July is difficult, and they were the only vendor at the market selling lemons that day.

The Hunter Orchards farmers were in the back of the market, selling lavender and dried garlic. They are a vendor that we only see for about a month a year, when they bring their beautiful Rocambole garlic to the market. The garlic that I bought on Saturday will last until Valentine's Day, they said. I bid them good-bye until next year, and strategized a cool,dark place for my two bags of newly purchased dried garlic.

By the time I ran into a couple of bloggers, I had visions of going home for a post-market meal. "The tostadas at Primavera are really good today," Tea mentioned referring to the amazing Mexican food stand at the back of the market. "I'm going to skip it", I said. "I'm plotting a BLT." BLT's always make me think of Cookie and Cranky, my blogger friends in Marin, and I had them in mind as I ran to pick up bacon, perfect tomatoes, tiny little heads of romaine lettuce, and my BLT bun of choice.

Arriving back home, I unpacked and made my meal within 20 minutes, then sat and watched mindless television as I decompressed from my market day.

Each week when I get home, I scribble down my market list before I put it away. In addition to the produce mentioned above, I also purchased:

Orach, nopales, and cilantro from Heirloom Organics
Pasilla peppers from Catalan Farms Corn from G & S Corn
Nectarines from Blossom Bluff Orchards
Avocados from Brokaw Nursery
Butter from Spring Hill Cheese

My visits to New York City are usually hectic, overscheduled, and downright tiring. Between friends and family, the pressures of "researching" restaurants and visiting everyone's favorite museum, vacations to the Big Apple are hardly leisurely affairs. This time, though, I resolved to take it easy.

Fortunately, it's not hard to find good food as long as you schedule meetings for mealtime. Even a late-night rendezvous will uncover good eats.

Two places that I was delighted to try this past weekend, with the guidance of friends, are Gazala Place in Hell's Kitchen (or, as the real estate agents have been calling it since the new high-rises came in: Midtown West) and the infamous Bonchon Chicken in Koreatown.


GAZALA PLACE

Named for its Isreali chef-owner, Gazala Halabi, Gazala Place is a narrow, friendly restaurant that specializes in Druze cuisine. Followers of an ancient sect that branched off from the Muslim religion, the Druze played a little known yet very important role in the politics of Syria and Lebanon, and a small community continues to live as a distinct, designated ethnic group in Israel.

This New York outpost is barely wide enough to slip through walking sideways, and of course, its handful of tables are often full. Up front is a special curved griddle for making pita--a lovely bread that does not at all resemble the convenient sandwich pockets many of us conjure. Rather, the housemade pita is a thin, delicate expanse of crepe-like bread, an edible whole-wheat handkerchief that piles and folds and wraps around an endless array of Gazala's savory bites.

The food, billed as authentic Mediterranean, leans more toward the Middle East: amazingly tender kababs of lamb, chicken and beef cooked over a searing flame, expertly shaped kibbe, and flakey pastry pies filled with spinach or feta. Absolute must tries on the appetizer menu include the brilliantly red "Turkish salad" made from sun-dried red peppers, the luscious goat-cheese labanee spread, and the foule moudammas, a garlicky dip made from fava beans. All are properly, generously drizzled with fruity olive oil. Fortunately, there's no end of bread refills for scooping up the vibrant flavors.

While you're finishing your meal with date cake or honey-soaked kenafi accompanied with thick, strong Arabic coffee or a pot of the minty house tea, expect Gazala herself to stop by your table to chat. She might not tell you her secret recipe for that unforgettable red pepper spread, but her friendly smile will be the perfect cap to a unique lunch.

Gazala Place
709 9th Ave.
New York, NY 10036
(212) 245-0709
Map


BONCHON CHICKEN

In the past couple of decades, West 32nd Street between Broadway and Fifth Avenue has sprouted neon galore. This main strip of Koreantown, once the source of wigs and fashion accessories became known informally as Kimchi Alley and more officially as Korea Way. It's a business district only--look to Flushing for Korean residential enclaves--but this is still the street to come in Manhattan for mandoo dumplings, oxtail soup, soju bars, and both Pinkberry and Red Mango duking it out on the frozen yogurt front.

Koreatown has built up, literally, so second, third, fourth, and even rooftop businesses are the places to be. Getting to a table at hot spot, Bonchon Chicken, requires trekking a creaky, questionable walk-up that magically opens to a sleek lounge of distressed concrete and pulsating music. Young Koreans in date mode, sipping elegant cocktails, belie the real reason everyone comes to this hip lounge bar: the fried chicken.

Made to order, Bonchon's claim to fame is an unassuming plateful of crisp skin, juicy dark meat (pick wings or drumsticks), and a choice of garlic or spicy glaze. Sweet-tart daikon pickles and a cabbage salad offer some foil, but beer or soju is the popular complement.

There's an extensive menu of savory nibbles, and while everyone means to try the other stuff, a quick look around the room reveals the inevitable platter of chicken. For those who prefer to converse without shouting, ask for a table in one of the back rooms or settle for a seat at the bar. The lounge up front, though, is the main scene.

Bonchon Chicken
314 5th Ave., 2nd Floor
New York, NY 10018
(212) 221-2222
Map