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"disqusTitle": "Weezy's: In Marin, Size Matters",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/lunch.jpg\" alt=\"lunch at Weezys Grass Fed Shed\" title=\"lunch at Weezys Grass Fed Shed\" width=\"500\" height=\"370\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11201\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Trying everything at \u003ca href=\"http://www.weezys-shed.com/home.htm\">Weezy’s Grass Fed Shed\u003c/a>\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm a little late to the game, but I'm finally getting into the \u003ca href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Best-Food-Writing-Holly-Hughes/dp/0738213691\">Best Food Writing 2009\u003c/a> anthology. It's only been sitting on my nightstand for a few months. If you haven't checked it out yet, there are some great, short pieces on everything from translating modern Indian cooking to an exploration of illegal, raw-milk cheese. Our of all of the work I've read so far (Disclaimer: I'm still not all that far into it), Tim Hayward's short piece, \"Too Much of a Mouthful\" caught my attention. In it, he explores the current popularity of oversized portions--particularly in the U.K.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Interesting enough, I was finishing Hayward's piece as I sat waiting for a friend on the patio of \u003ca href=\"http://www.weezys-shed.com/home.htm\">Weezy's Grass Fed Shed\u003c/a> in San Rafael. I'd heard about this place right when they opened from a friend who worked in the area. She boasted that they served \u003ca href=\"http://www.pratherranch.com/\">Prather Ranch\u003c/a> beef burgers for a mere $3.00. I argued with her about the impossibility of that statement, and she assured me that it was true but that they make it all work because the burgers are small.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Great. Perfect. I hate how sluggish I feel after a big burger, so I quickly find a fellow burger lover and we agree to meet for lunch and check it out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/Weezys.jpg\" alt=\"Weezys Grass Fed Shed-small outdoor patio\" title=\"Weezys Grass Fed Shed-small outdoor patio\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11198\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The shed’s small outdoor patio\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now when my friend mentioned that the burgers are small, she wasn't messing around. Think somewhere in between slider and very small burger. Tim Hayward, the writer I just spoke of, would be proud. In his piece, he closes by commenting on the irony of careful food preparation in the U.K. combined with the obscene, difficult-to eat portions:\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>Any cook worth his Maldon salt, be he three-star chef, sandwich slinger or pie-maker, will have thought long and hard about every aspect of a dish he's created. By the time he's given it a final wipe with the rag and sent it out to delight me he will have used all of his knowledge, skill, experience and training to ensure that it is properly sourced and prepped; perfectly cooked, seasoned, rested, and sauced. Is it really too much to ask then, that it should also fit in my mouth?\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>Clearly, Louise Clow-Birkenseer (\"Weezy') would answer with a resounding \"No.\" Not only are her burgers made with the finest ingredients, they’re also a very civilized and appropriate size. You can swing by and grab one as a late afternoon snack or, as my friend Creg and I decided to do, order a whole bunch (or, let's be honest: pretty much everything on the menu). At that size and that price, why not?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/contiki.jpg\" alt=\"The Contiki burger\" title=\"The Contiki burger\" width=\"500\" height=\"536\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11200\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Contiki burger: a little bit sweet, a little bit savory.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Before I report back on our favorites, a little background: Weezy's started as many great things do: when someone notices a lack of something in their neighborhood or town and decides to fill it. Weezy lives in the sleepy part of San Rafael known as Terra Linda--quite residential with very few good dining options. Weezy missed a good burger. She wanted to walk and pick one up. She'd always wanted to add to the community in some way and felt that really good quality food should be available to everyone at a fair price. Enough said. The shed was born.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Creg and I visited on a quiet and unusually sunny weekday and found Weezy whistling on a stool in the back of the shed forming small meat patties. High school kids were working through the line with smiles and enthusiasm. It all felt very organized but completely laid-back at the same time. For example, as we were hemming and hawing over what kind of fries to order (sweet potato or regular), the kids at the register encouraged us to go with both: \u003cem>We'll mix them up for you!\u003c/em> OK, sold. I overhear another customer debating between the limeade or the raspberry lemonade. The cashier's solution? \u003cem>It's so good if you mix them both! We do it all the time. Trust us, you'll love it!\u003c/em> I like this carefree, go-for-it attitude. Why take lunch too seriously, after all?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then as if the kids at the counter aren't excited enough, we go outside to enjoy our burgers and Weezy herself isn't far behind with her own lunch tray. She sits down next to us, soaking in the sun, chatting with customers and introducing herself, and literally \u003cem>oohing and ahhing\u003c/em> over her burger. From the sound of things, she's behind these little burgers 110%. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Creg and I tried the White Trash Burger (with American cheese, iceberg lettuce, and Thousand Island dressing), Burger in a Lettuce Cup, the B-rad (with bacon and Tillamook cheddar), the Contiki (with pineapple and Teriyaki sauce), and the Moo-Less Burger (homemade vegan patty with 20 different ingredients served on a bun with cream cheese and special sweet potato sauce).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/vegan.jpg\" alt=\"The Moo-Less Burger\" title=\"The Moo-Less Burger\" width=\"500\" height=\"370\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11202\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Moo-Less Burger\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Each burger is right around $3.00 and weighs in at 1/8 of a pound unless you opt to do the \"Double Wide\" upgrade with is ¼ pound for an additional $.75. I have to say, I'll probably upgrade next time. It seems like a great deal. I expected to really love the White Trash burger, but there was something about the crispy bacon, juicy and perfectly cooked meat, and slightly sharp cheddar that made me grasp onto the B-rad and not let go. Sorry, Creg. I'll give you a bite next time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/b-rad.jpg\" alt=\"The b-rad burger\" title=\"The b-rad burger\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11199\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>I'll be back for this one: the b-rad burger\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So as the weather turns warmer, as you look to new spots to try, I'm all for taking Tim Hayward's implied thesis to heart--size matters. Something is lost in quality and in experience when you're presented with an entire pound of it. According her website, for Weezy \"it’s not just a job, it’s a lifestyle.\" I have to say--if I lived just a bit closer, I'd start to integrate Weezy's more into my own.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.weezys-shed.com/home.htm\">Weezy's Grass Fed Shed\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n621 A Del Ganado (in the Scotty's Market Shopping Center)\u003cbr>\nSan Rafael, CA, 94903\u003cbr>\n(415) 479-7433\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Everyday 11am-8pm; for coffee and pastries (NEW) only 7am-11am\u003cbr>\nAlso, find them on \u003ca href=\"http://www.facebook.com/pages/Weezys-grass-fed-shed/203880141885\">Facebook\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ciframe width=\"425\" height=\"350\" frameborder=\"0\" scrolling=\"no\" marginheight=\"0\" marginwidth=\"0\" src=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Weezy%E2%80%99s+Grass+Fed+Shed+621+A+Del+Ganado,+San+Rafael,+CA+94903&sll=38.013432,-122.558997&sspn=0.011733,0.013819&g=621+A+Del+Ganado,+San+Rafael,+CA+94903&ie=UTF8&hq=Weezy%E2%80%99s+Grass+Fed+Shed&hnear=621+Del+Ganado+Rd,+San+Rafael,+CA+94903&ll=38.023213,-122.554893&spn=0.01131,0.013819&z=14&iwloc=A&cid=6851440200590099886&output=embed\">\u003c/iframe>\u003cbr>\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=embed&hl=en&geocode=&q=Weezy%E2%80%99s+Grass+Fed+Shed+621+A+Del+Ganado,+San+Rafael,+CA+94903&sll=38.013432,-122.558997&sspn=0.011733,0.013819&g=621+A+Del+Ganado,+San+Rafael,+CA+94903&ie=UTF8&hq=Weezy%E2%80%99s+Grass+Fed+Shed&hnear=621+Del+Ganado+Rd,+San+Rafael,+CA+94903&ll=38.023213,-122.554893&spn=0.01131,0.013819&z=14&iwloc=A&cid=6851440200590099886\">View Larger Map\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n",
"disqusIdentifier": "11188 http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/?p=11188",
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"excerpt": "Interesting enough, I was finishing Hayward's piece as I sat waiting for a friend on the patio of Weezy's Grass Fed Shed in San Rafael. I'd heard about this place right when they opened from a friend who worked in the area. She boasted that they served Prather Ranch beef burgers for a mere $3.00. I argued with her about the impossibility of that statement, and she assured me that it was true but that they make it all work because the burgers are small.",
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"description": "Interesting enough, I was finishing Hayward's piece as I sat waiting for a friend on the patio of Weezy's Grass Fed Shed in San Rafael. I'd heard about this place right when they opened from a friend who worked in the area. She boasted that they served Prather Ranch beef burgers for a mere $3.00. I argued with her about the impossibility of that statement, and she assured me that it was true but that they make it all work because the burgers are small.",
"title": "Weezy's: In Marin, Size Matters | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/lunch.jpg\" alt=\"lunch at Weezys Grass Fed Shed\" title=\"lunch at Weezys Grass Fed Shed\" width=\"500\" height=\"370\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11201\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Trying everything at \u003ca href=\"http://www.weezys-shed.com/home.htm\">Weezy’s Grass Fed Shed\u003c/a>\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm a little late to the game, but I'm finally getting into the \u003ca href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Best-Food-Writing-Holly-Hughes/dp/0738213691\">Best Food Writing 2009\u003c/a> anthology. It's only been sitting on my nightstand for a few months. If you haven't checked it out yet, there are some great, short pieces on everything from translating modern Indian cooking to an exploration of illegal, raw-milk cheese. Our of all of the work I've read so far (Disclaimer: I'm still not all that far into it), Tim Hayward's short piece, \"Too Much of a Mouthful\" caught my attention. In it, he explores the current popularity of oversized portions--particularly in the U.K.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Interesting enough, I was finishing Hayward's piece as I sat waiting for a friend on the patio of \u003ca href=\"http://www.weezys-shed.com/home.htm\">Weezy's Grass Fed Shed\u003c/a> in San Rafael. I'd heard about this place right when they opened from a friend who worked in the area. She boasted that they served \u003ca href=\"http://www.pratherranch.com/\">Prather Ranch\u003c/a> beef burgers for a mere $3.00. I argued with her about the impossibility of that statement, and she assured me that it was true but that they make it all work because the burgers are small.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Great. Perfect. I hate how sluggish I feel after a big burger, so I quickly find a fellow burger lover and we agree to meet for lunch and check it out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/Weezys.jpg\" alt=\"Weezys Grass Fed Shed-small outdoor patio\" title=\"Weezys Grass Fed Shed-small outdoor patio\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11198\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The shed’s small outdoor patio\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now when my friend mentioned that the burgers are small, she wasn't messing around. Think somewhere in between slider and very small burger. Tim Hayward, the writer I just spoke of, would be proud. In his piece, he closes by commenting on the irony of careful food preparation in the U.K. combined with the obscene, difficult-to eat portions:\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>Any cook worth his Maldon salt, be he three-star chef, sandwich slinger or pie-maker, will have thought long and hard about every aspect of a dish he's created. By the time he's given it a final wipe with the rag and sent it out to delight me he will have used all of his knowledge, skill, experience and training to ensure that it is properly sourced and prepped; perfectly cooked, seasoned, rested, and sauced. Is it really too much to ask then, that it should also fit in my mouth?\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>Clearly, Louise Clow-Birkenseer (\"Weezy') would answer with a resounding \"No.\" Not only are her burgers made with the finest ingredients, they’re also a very civilized and appropriate size. You can swing by and grab one as a late afternoon snack or, as my friend Creg and I decided to do, order a whole bunch (or, let's be honest: pretty much everything on the menu). At that size and that price, why not?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/contiki.jpg\" alt=\"The Contiki burger\" title=\"The Contiki burger\" width=\"500\" height=\"536\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11200\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Contiki burger: a little bit sweet, a little bit savory.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Before I report back on our favorites, a little background: Weezy's started as many great things do: when someone notices a lack of something in their neighborhood or town and decides to fill it. Weezy lives in the sleepy part of San Rafael known as Terra Linda--quite residential with very few good dining options. Weezy missed a good burger. She wanted to walk and pick one up. She'd always wanted to add to the community in some way and felt that really good quality food should be available to everyone at a fair price. Enough said. The shed was born.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Creg and I visited on a quiet and unusually sunny weekday and found Weezy whistling on a stool in the back of the shed forming small meat patties. High school kids were working through the line with smiles and enthusiasm. It all felt very organized but completely laid-back at the same time. For example, as we were hemming and hawing over what kind of fries to order (sweet potato or regular), the kids at the register encouraged us to go with both: \u003cem>We'll mix them up for you!\u003c/em> OK, sold. I overhear another customer debating between the limeade or the raspberry lemonade. The cashier's solution? \u003cem>It's so good if you mix them both! We do it all the time. Trust us, you'll love it!\u003c/em> I like this carefree, go-for-it attitude. Why take lunch too seriously, after all?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then as if the kids at the counter aren't excited enough, we go outside to enjoy our burgers and Weezy herself isn't far behind with her own lunch tray. She sits down next to us, soaking in the sun, chatting with customers and introducing herself, and literally \u003cem>oohing and ahhing\u003c/em> over her burger. From the sound of things, she's behind these little burgers 110%. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Creg and I tried the White Trash Burger (with American cheese, iceberg lettuce, and Thousand Island dressing), Burger in a Lettuce Cup, the B-rad (with bacon and Tillamook cheddar), the Contiki (with pineapple and Teriyaki sauce), and the Moo-Less Burger (homemade vegan patty with 20 different ingredients served on a bun with cream cheese and special sweet potato sauce).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/vegan.jpg\" alt=\"The Moo-Less Burger\" title=\"The Moo-Less Burger\" width=\"500\" height=\"370\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11202\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Moo-Less Burger\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Each burger is right around $3.00 and weighs in at 1/8 of a pound unless you opt to do the \"Double Wide\" upgrade with is ¼ pound for an additional $.75. I have to say, I'll probably upgrade next time. It seems like a great deal. I expected to really love the White Trash burger, but there was something about the crispy bacon, juicy and perfectly cooked meat, and slightly sharp cheddar that made me grasp onto the B-rad and not let go. Sorry, Creg. I'll give you a bite next time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/b-rad.jpg\" alt=\"The b-rad burger\" title=\"The b-rad burger\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11199\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>I'll be back for this one: the b-rad burger\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So as the weather turns warmer, as you look to new spots to try, I'm all for taking Tim Hayward's implied thesis to heart--size matters. Something is lost in quality and in experience when you're presented with an entire pound of it. According her website, for Weezy \"it’s not just a job, it’s a lifestyle.\" I have to say--if I lived just a bit closer, I'd start to integrate Weezy's more into my own.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.weezys-shed.com/home.htm\">Weezy's Grass Fed Shed\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n621 A Del Ganado (in the Scotty's Market Shopping Center)\u003cbr>\nSan Rafael, CA, 94903\u003cbr>\n(415) 479-7433\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Everyday 11am-8pm; for coffee and pastries (NEW) only 7am-11am\u003cbr>\nAlso, find them on \u003ca href=\"http://www.facebook.com/pages/Weezys-grass-fed-shed/203880141885\">Facebook\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"disqusTitle": "Homemade English Muffins Inspired by a Rockin' Breakfast Sandwich",
"title": "Homemade English Muffins Inspired by a Rockin' Breakfast Sandwich",
"headTitle": "Bay Area Bites | KQED Food",
"content": "\u003cp>Many of you probably saw 7x7’s recent issue with \u003ca href=\"http://www.7x7.com/2010-big-eat-sf-100-things-try-you-die\">100 Things to Eat Before You Die\u003c/a>. While I think some of their choices were a bit repetitive this year, it's a fun issue and always gives me a nudge towards spots I've been meaning to try and dishes I need to get my hands on. While studying their inclusions, I noticed a serious omission. For those of you who have had the pleasure of eating the homemade English muffin breakfast sandwich at \u003ca href=\"http://www.missionbeachcafesf.com/\">Mission Beach Café\u003c/a>, you know what I'm talking about. This may be up there with my top three favorite things to eat for breakfast in the city--with or without a glossy endorsement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/mbccoffee.jpg\" alt=\"Mission Beach Cafe coffee\" title=\"Mission Beach Cafe coffee\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11013\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Warming up to the morning at Mission Beach Café\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This place rocks on weekday mornings. It's relatively quiet, there are folks reading the paper, and neighborhood locals wander in to grab a cup of coffee and a pastry. They're pulling off quaint neighborhood eatery remarkably well. It's spacious. It's comfortable. The service is laid-back but attentive. And dear god, that sandwich. Essentially, it's a fried egg with melted cheddar, caramelized onions, and mushrooms wedged in between a satisfying homemade English muffin. The nooks and crannies catch the slightly runny egg perfectly, but there's also more of a delightful heft to the English muffins here than your typical store-bought variety.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/MBCsandwich.jpg\" alt=\"Mission Beach Cafe sandwich\" title=\"Mission Beach Cafe sandwich\" width=\"500\" height=\"295\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11014\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Breakfast Sandwich on a homemade English muffin at Mission Beach Café.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A few weeks ago, I brought two friends to Mission Beach Café. We were all catching up with each other until the waitress brought out our breakfast. I kept getting distracted and interrupting: \u003cem>you guys have got to try this; I wonder if you can make these English muffins at home?; do you think you have to use yeast to make English muffins?\u003c/em> My friends loved their food, but could've used a little less talk of yeast and a little more talk of weekend plans. But the second I got home, I started researching recipes online and found one from a blog called \u003ca href=\"http://traceysculinaryadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/english-muffins.html\">Tracey's Culinary Adventures\u003c/a> (a lot of food bloggers have played with this recipe by famed bread master \u003ca href=\"http://peterreinhart.typepad.com/\">Peter Reinhart\u003c/a> so it must be the real deal). It seemed to be a relatively easy foray into the big, bad world of yeast (I'm a quick bread kinda' gal myself), so I set out to buy the ingredients and managed to have a whole lot of luck. I ended up adapting the recipe slightly myself, adding a little more sugar because I'd heard the sugar helps the yeast rise (and I didn’t have much luck with that the first go-around). \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/dough.jpg\" alt=\"dough\" title=\"dough\" width=\"500\" height=\"340\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11016\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>In under a minute you'll have a warm, fragrant ball of dough.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My mom claims this is the best thing I've ever made. I'm not so sure about that, but they were easy (albeit a little time consuming: my yeast took a bit longer than the recipe dictated, so allow a good few hours just in case) and have proven to be quite addicting. I quickly learned that there's a difference between instant yeast and active dry yeast. I'm not going to lie. I still don't completely know the territory I just entered, and I definitely had to toss my first ball of dough. But there's something thrilling about kneading buttermilk, flour, and yeast and watching it rise and form into magic breakfast (or lunch, or late night) treats.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/making-english-mufins.jpg\" alt=\"making english muffins\" title=\"making english muffins\" width=\"500\" height=\"500\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11012\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Letting the dough rise, forming balls, quickly cooking each side, and popping them in the oven: done!\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I didn't try to emulate the breakfast sandwich at Mission Beach Café (not yet, anyway), but I have been slicing halves, toasting them, and eating them with just about every jam in my kitchen. And a quick note: the only time-consuming part of this recipe is letting the dough rise. You won’t be slaving away in the kitchen. Pick up a good book or get caught up with old friends on the phone and they’ll be done before you know it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/englishmuffin.jpg\" alt=\"english muffin\" title=\"english muffin\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11017\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>I'll never buy Thomas' again!\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>English Muffins\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Adapted from \u003ca href=\"http://traceysculinaryadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/english-muffins.html\">Tracey's Culinary Adventures\u003c/a> -- original recipe from \u003ca href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Bread-Bakers-Apprentice-Mastering-Extraordinary/dp/1580082688\">The Bread Baker's Apprentice\u003c/a> by \u003ca href=\"http://peterreinhart.typepad.com/\">Peter Reinhart\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Ingredients:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n2 1/4 cups bread flour\u003cbr>\n2 tsp. sugar\u003cbr>\n3/4 tsp. salt\u003cbr>\n1 1/4 tsp. instant yeast\u003cbr>\n1 tbsp. shortening or unsalted butter, at room temperature\u003cbr>\n3/4-1 cup milk or buttermilk, at room temperature\u003cbr>\nCornmeal, for sprinkling\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Makes:\u003c/strong> 6 English Muffins\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Preparation:\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>1. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the flour, sugar, salt and yeast. Mix in the butter (or shortening) and 3/4 cup of milk (or buttermilk). If the dry ingredients are not yet fully incorporated, add enough of the remaining milk so a dough forms. Stop mixing right when this occurs: don't over mix!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>2. Sprinkle flour on a dry surface and turn the dough out of the mixer, and knead by hand for about 9-10 minutes. The dough should be tacky (but not sticky), and register 77 to 81 F. Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl and roll the ball of dough around the bowl to coat. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise for at least an hour, or until the dough doubles in size. It helps to keep the dough (in terms of rising) in a relatively warm place--away from cold, drafty windows or open doors.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>3. Divide the dough into 6 equal pieces and shape into small balls. Lay parchment paper on a baking sheet and spray lightly with oil. Sprinkle with cornmeal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>4. Move the dough balls to the baking sheet, spacing them evenly with enough room to rise and double in size. Mist them lightly with oil and sprinkle with cornmeal then cover the pan loosely with plastic wrap and allow to rise another hour, or until the rolls are nearly double in size.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>5. Preheat the oven to 350 F. Heat a flat griddle to medium (350 F) (you can also use a skillet on the stove top if you don't have a griddle). Brush the griddle lightly with oil and gently transfer the dough balls to the griddle. Allow them to cook for 5-8 minutes or until the bottoms are a rich golden brown color. Be careful not to burn. Carefully flip and cook the other side for the same amount of time. They should flatten as they cook.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>6. Remove the muffins from the skillet and transfer them to a parchment- or silpat-lined baking sheet. Bake in the preheated oven for 6-8 minutes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>7. Transfer the baked muffins to a cooling rack and let cool at least 30 minutes before slicing or serving. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/breakfast.jpg\" alt=\"breakfast \" title=\"breakfast \" width=\"500\" height=\"370\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11015\">\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "Many of you probably saw 7x7's recent issue with 100 Things to Eat Before You Die. While I think some of their choices were a bit repetitive this year, it's a fun issue and always gives me a nudge towards spots I've been meaning to try and dishes I need to get my hands on. While studying their inclusions, I noticed a serious omission. For those of you who have had the pleasure of eating the homemade English muffin breakfast sandwich at Mission Beach Café, you know what I'm talking about. This may be up there with my top three favorite things to eat for breakfast in the city--with or without a glossy endorsement.",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Many of you probably saw 7x7’s recent issue with \u003ca href=\"http://www.7x7.com/2010-big-eat-sf-100-things-try-you-die\">100 Things to Eat Before You Die\u003c/a>. While I think some of their choices were a bit repetitive this year, it's a fun issue and always gives me a nudge towards spots I've been meaning to try and dishes I need to get my hands on. While studying their inclusions, I noticed a serious omission. For those of you who have had the pleasure of eating the homemade English muffin breakfast sandwich at \u003ca href=\"http://www.missionbeachcafesf.com/\">Mission Beach Café\u003c/a>, you know what I'm talking about. This may be up there with my top three favorite things to eat for breakfast in the city--with or without a glossy endorsement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/mbccoffee.jpg\" alt=\"Mission Beach Cafe coffee\" title=\"Mission Beach Cafe coffee\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11013\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Warming up to the morning at Mission Beach Café\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This place rocks on weekday mornings. It's relatively quiet, there are folks reading the paper, and neighborhood locals wander in to grab a cup of coffee and a pastry. They're pulling off quaint neighborhood eatery remarkably well. It's spacious. It's comfortable. The service is laid-back but attentive. And dear god, that sandwich. Essentially, it's a fried egg with melted cheddar, caramelized onions, and mushrooms wedged in between a satisfying homemade English muffin. The nooks and crannies catch the slightly runny egg perfectly, but there's also more of a delightful heft to the English muffins here than your typical store-bought variety.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/MBCsandwich.jpg\" alt=\"Mission Beach Cafe sandwich\" title=\"Mission Beach Cafe sandwich\" width=\"500\" height=\"295\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11014\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Breakfast Sandwich on a homemade English muffin at Mission Beach Café.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A few weeks ago, I brought two friends to Mission Beach Café. We were all catching up with each other until the waitress brought out our breakfast. I kept getting distracted and interrupting: \u003cem>you guys have got to try this; I wonder if you can make these English muffins at home?; do you think you have to use yeast to make English muffins?\u003c/em> My friends loved their food, but could've used a little less talk of yeast and a little more talk of weekend plans. But the second I got home, I started researching recipes online and found one from a blog called \u003ca href=\"http://traceysculinaryadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/english-muffins.html\">Tracey's Culinary Adventures\u003c/a> (a lot of food bloggers have played with this recipe by famed bread master \u003ca href=\"http://peterreinhart.typepad.com/\">Peter Reinhart\u003c/a> so it must be the real deal). It seemed to be a relatively easy foray into the big, bad world of yeast (I'm a quick bread kinda' gal myself), so I set out to buy the ingredients and managed to have a whole lot of luck. I ended up adapting the recipe slightly myself, adding a little more sugar because I'd heard the sugar helps the yeast rise (and I didn’t have much luck with that the first go-around). \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/dough.jpg\" alt=\"dough\" title=\"dough\" width=\"500\" height=\"340\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11016\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>In under a minute you'll have a warm, fragrant ball of dough.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My mom claims this is the best thing I've ever made. I'm not so sure about that, but they were easy (albeit a little time consuming: my yeast took a bit longer than the recipe dictated, so allow a good few hours just in case) and have proven to be quite addicting. I quickly learned that there's a difference between instant yeast and active dry yeast. I'm not going to lie. I still don't completely know the territory I just entered, and I definitely had to toss my first ball of dough. But there's something thrilling about kneading buttermilk, flour, and yeast and watching it rise and form into magic breakfast (or lunch, or late night) treats.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/making-english-mufins.jpg\" alt=\"making english muffins\" title=\"making english muffins\" width=\"500\" height=\"500\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11012\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Letting the dough rise, forming balls, quickly cooking each side, and popping them in the oven: done!\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I didn't try to emulate the breakfast sandwich at Mission Beach Café (not yet, anyway), but I have been slicing halves, toasting them, and eating them with just about every jam in my kitchen. And a quick note: the only time-consuming part of this recipe is letting the dough rise. You won’t be slaving away in the kitchen. Pick up a good book or get caught up with old friends on the phone and they’ll be done before you know it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/03/englishmuffin.jpg\" alt=\"english muffin\" title=\"english muffin\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11017\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>I'll never buy Thomas' again!\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>English Muffins\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Adapted from \u003ca href=\"http://traceysculinaryadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/english-muffins.html\">Tracey's Culinary Adventures\u003c/a> -- original recipe from \u003ca href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Bread-Bakers-Apprentice-Mastering-Extraordinary/dp/1580082688\">The Bread Baker's Apprentice\u003c/a> by \u003ca href=\"http://peterreinhart.typepad.com/\">Peter Reinhart\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Ingredients:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n2 1/4 cups bread flour\u003cbr>\n2 tsp. sugar\u003cbr>\n3/4 tsp. salt\u003cbr>\n1 1/4 tsp. instant yeast\u003cbr>\n1 tbsp. shortening or unsalted butter, at room temperature\u003cbr>\n3/4-1 cup milk or buttermilk, at room temperature\u003cbr>\nCornmeal, for sprinkling\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Makes:\u003c/strong> 6 English Muffins\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Preparation:\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>1. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the flour, sugar, salt and yeast. Mix in the butter (or shortening) and 3/4 cup of milk (or buttermilk). If the dry ingredients are not yet fully incorporated, add enough of the remaining milk so a dough forms. Stop mixing right when this occurs: don't over mix!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>2. Sprinkle flour on a dry surface and turn the dough out of the mixer, and knead by hand for about 9-10 minutes. The dough should be tacky (but not sticky), and register 77 to 81 F. Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl and roll the ball of dough around the bowl to coat. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise for at least an hour, or until the dough doubles in size. It helps to keep the dough (in terms of rising) in a relatively warm place--away from cold, drafty windows or open doors.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>3. Divide the dough into 6 equal pieces and shape into small balls. Lay parchment paper on a baking sheet and spray lightly with oil. Sprinkle with cornmeal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>4. Move the dough balls to the baking sheet, spacing them evenly with enough room to rise and double in size. Mist them lightly with oil and sprinkle with cornmeal then cover the pan loosely with plastic wrap and allow to rise another hour, or until the rolls are nearly double in size.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>5. Preheat the oven to 350 F. Heat a flat griddle to medium (350 F) (you can also use a skillet on the stove top if you don't have a griddle). Brush the griddle lightly with oil and gently transfer the dough balls to the griddle. Allow them to cook for 5-8 minutes or until the bottoms are a rich golden brown color. Be careful not to burn. Carefully flip and cook the other side for the same amount of time. They should flatten as they cook.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>6. Remove the muffins from the skillet and transfer them to a parchment- or silpat-lined baking sheet. Bake in the preheated oven for 6-8 minutes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>7. Transfer the baked muffins to a cooling rack and let cool at least 30 minutes before slicing or serving. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"disqusTitle": "Who Owns the Deli? ",
"title": "Who Owns the Deli? ",
"headTitle": "Bay Area Bites | KQED Food",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/storefront500.jpg\" alt=\"Sauls Restaurant and Delicatessen \" title=\"Sauls Restaurant and Delicatessen \" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10719\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Who guards the culinary heritage of a culture? Where does authenticity reside, and who decides what it is? Can traditional foods change with the times, and if they do, are they still traditional? Can handmade salami made from grass-fed beef still call up memories of Grandma's Saturday-morning scrambled eggs and salami? In this age of massive multinational conglomerates, does brand loyalty mean anything anymore? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/housemade-soda500.jpg\" alt=\"housemade soda\" title=\"housemade soda\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10727\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What's better-- the Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray tonic in the bottle you remember Grandpa drinking, now with high-fructose corn syrup included, or homemade celery soda infused with real celery seed, with less sugar and no packaging? How much do we pay-- in food miles, in feedlots, in calories-- for nostalgia? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All these questions, and more, were in the air at the \u003ca href=\"http://prod.jcceastbay.org/\">Jewish Community Center of the East Bay\u003c/a> in early February, as an overflow crowd squeezed into the main auditorium for a panel discussion on \"Referendum on The Deli Menu\" (Can the Jewish Deli be sustainable?) sponsored by \u003ca href=\"http://www.saulsdeli.com/\">Saul's\u003c/a>. Saul's, for those of you born without cravings for matzoh ball soup, is Berkeley's big, busy, much-loved Jewish deli. But ever since Karen Adelman and her husband Peter Levitt bought the deli in 1995, they've had what they call \"a stealthy, secret mission\" operating alongside their dedication to borscht and blintzes, corned beef and chicken in a pot. Their secret? A desire to pull the deli in line with contemporary attitudes about food and consumption, rather than letting it ossify like gefilte fish left too long in the fridge. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/karenadelman-peterlevitt500.jpg\" alt=\"Karen Adelman and Peter Levitt - owners of Sauls\" title=\"Karen Adelman and Peter Levitt - owners of Sauls\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10721\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To this end, towering sandwiches were slimmed down, no longer stacked with jaw-defying stacks of meat. Meats became sustainably ranched, grass-fed when possible. Vegetables started to come from local farms. Corn-syruped drinks were out; housemade sodas were in. Most recently, salami was dropped from the menu; Hebrew National, the only widely available brand of all-beef salami, is now owned by giant Con Agra. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/matzoball-soup500.jpg\" alt=\"matzo ball soup made from pastured chicken\" title=\"matzo ball soup made from pastured chicken\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10722\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This being Berkeley, you'd think pasture-raised chicken soup would earn nothing but mazel tovs. But not everyone, it seemed, wanted consciousness-raising alongside their blintzes and brisket. There was pushback from some customers, and an overall question: How much could a deli change and still be a deli? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/grassfed-brisket500.jpg\" alt=\"grassfed brisket butterball potatoes and Riverdog chard\" title=\"grassfed brisket butterball potatoes and Riverdog chard\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10720\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hence the referendum, featuring Karen and Paul in conversation with Saul's regular and local superstar \u003ca href=\"http://www.michaelpollan.com/\">Michael Pollan\u003c/a>; green-business maven \u003ca href=\"http://www.natlogic.com/resources/publications/the-truth-about-green-business/\">Gil Friend\u003c/a>, \u003ca href=\"http://www.cityslickerfarms.org\">City Slickers Farms\u003c/a> founder (and self-described \"pastrami addict\" Willow Rosenthal, the whole moderated by \u003ca href=\"http://www.kcrw.com/people/kleiman_evan?role=host\">Evan Kleinman\u003c/a>, host of \u003ca href=\"http://www.kcrw.com/etc/programs/gf\">KRCW's Good Food\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Having heard the phrase \"2 Jews, 3 opinions\" tossed around by my opinionated, argue-for-the-sake-of-it relatives all my life, I was ready for some Talmudic-level conflict, some heated words exchanged in the interest of radical change vs. How Bubbe Did It. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Alas, though, everyone on the panel agreed on nearly everything. Nostalgia is no excuse for a lack of conscience; if you care about eating locally, organically, sustainably and/or humanely at home, why should a Jewish deli give you a free pass to wallow in feedlot beef or syrupy soda? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Said Peter, \"We started with not wanting to sell meat we wouldn't eat. We want to drag the deli out of the museum, let it breathe with the seasons for a change.\" Right now, his challenge is corned beef: the grass-fed beef from local Marin Sun Farms, delicious as it is, isn't holding up to the 2- to 3-week brining process. It's been coming out dry and crumbly, probably due to being more muscled and less fatty that typical feedlot beef. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And then there's the menu problem: Saul's, like most delis, has a huge menu. There's the everyday menu, an equally long, but more international, seasonally-inspired specials menu, and then the \"secret\" menu of the more hard-core, Old World items--flanken, kishkes, things made with schmaltz and braised in gravy. Peter would like to see the menu shortened and made more manageable (and cost-effective); if that means no cold beet borscht in winter, so be it. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Says Karen, \"I think we should be leading, not just reacting. We're hungry for meaning and community, along with comfort food. We need to connect with our future as well as our past. I promise, no one will leave hungry!\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, even in Berkeley, there's room to toe more than one party line. If this were New York City, or Los Angeles, where deli culture, while battered, is still alive, one deli's decision to nix the salami would hardly generate SRO crowds at the 92nd St Y. But delis are few in the Bay Area, and so Saul's clientele takes any changes personally . But if there are Hebrew National fans and lox diehards out there, they're keeping quiet; the crowd claps and nods along with just about everything Pollan, Rosenthal, and Friend present, even recoiling a little in genteel horror at brightly colored slides of jaw-defying pastrami sandwiches teetering higher than Lady Gaga's heels. Those massive sandwiches, long the symbol of post-war abundance, a meaty slap in the face to immigrant privation, are no longer sustainable; as Peter points out, there's no way to provide that much meat, particularly if it's good, humanely raised meat, at a price regular customers can bear. \"Those huge sandwiches are killing the deli. You can't make money selling 12 oz of meat for $10 or $15. At a steakhouse, you'd pay $30 or $40 for that much meat, and you'd buy a bottle of wine.\" Instead, Karen and Peter want to offer their customers alternatives that taste good, with a little patient explanation to help it along. Already, the menu emphasizes smoked trout (farmed) over overfished salmon, and more and more Mediterranean inspired salads and vegetable dishes to go along with the potato pancakes and cheesecake. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Pollan, for one, sees the democratization of the food movement as a very good thing. \"Getting sustainable food into delis, taquerias, cheaper places, that's great because it makes it more accessible to everyone.\" Agrees Friend, \"We vote with our dollars every day.\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If the deli is our secular synagogue, as Pollan muses, clearly this one is reform, maybe even reconstructionist. So fizz up an egg cream or raise a glass of borscht, and toast the new deli.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>VIDEO CLIP OF EVENT:\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cobject classid=\"d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000\" codebase=\"http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,0,0\" width=\"400\" height=\"264\">\u003cparam name=\"flashvars\" value=\"webhost=fora.tv&clipid=11451&cliptype=clip\">\u003cparam name=\"allowScriptAccess\" value=\"always\">\u003cparam name=\"allowFullScreen\" value=\"true\">\u003cparam name=\"movie\" value=\"http://fora.tv/embedded_player\">\u003cembed flashvars=\"webhost=fora.tv&clipid=11451&cliptype=clip\" src=\"http://fora.tv/embedded_player\" width=\"400\" height=\"264\" allowscriptaccess=\"always\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" pluginspage=\"http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/object>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Photos provided by \u003ca href=\"http://www.saulsdeli.com/\">Saul's\u003c/a>\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Related Posts:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.ethicurean.com/2010/02/15/jewish-deli/\">Saul's got SOLE: The Jewish deli in Berkeley evolves\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\nby \u003cem>Marc R. aka Mental Masala\u003c/em> at \u003ca href=\"http://www.ethicurean.com/\">The Ethicurean\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://civileats.com/2010/02/18/referendum-on-the-deli-menu-at-saul%E2%80%99s-restaurant-and-delicatessen-what-is-tradition/\">Referendum on the Deli Menu at Saul's Restaurant and Delicatessen: What is Tradition?\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\nby Vanessa Barrington at \u003ca href=\"http://civileats.com/\">Civil Eats\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "Is the 21st century deli still your grandmother's deli? Can pastrami love and food consciousness coexist? The owners of Saul's held a referendum at the Jewish Community Center of the East Bay to find out. ",
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"description": "Is the 21st century deli still your grandmother's deli? Can pastrami love and food consciousness coexist? The owners of Saul's held a referendum at the Jewish Community Center of the East Bay to find out. ",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/storefront500.jpg\" alt=\"Sauls Restaurant and Delicatessen \" title=\"Sauls Restaurant and Delicatessen \" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10719\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Who guards the culinary heritage of a culture? Where does authenticity reside, and who decides what it is? Can traditional foods change with the times, and if they do, are they still traditional? Can handmade salami made from grass-fed beef still call up memories of Grandma's Saturday-morning scrambled eggs and salami? In this age of massive multinational conglomerates, does brand loyalty mean anything anymore? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/housemade-soda500.jpg\" alt=\"housemade soda\" title=\"housemade soda\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10727\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What's better-- the Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray tonic in the bottle you remember Grandpa drinking, now with high-fructose corn syrup included, or homemade celery soda infused with real celery seed, with less sugar and no packaging? How much do we pay-- in food miles, in feedlots, in calories-- for nostalgia? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All these questions, and more, were in the air at the \u003ca href=\"http://prod.jcceastbay.org/\">Jewish Community Center of the East Bay\u003c/a> in early February, as an overflow crowd squeezed into the main auditorium for a panel discussion on \"Referendum on The Deli Menu\" (Can the Jewish Deli be sustainable?) sponsored by \u003ca href=\"http://www.saulsdeli.com/\">Saul's\u003c/a>. Saul's, for those of you born without cravings for matzoh ball soup, is Berkeley's big, busy, much-loved Jewish deli. But ever since Karen Adelman and her husband Peter Levitt bought the deli in 1995, they've had what they call \"a stealthy, secret mission\" operating alongside their dedication to borscht and blintzes, corned beef and chicken in a pot. Their secret? A desire to pull the deli in line with contemporary attitudes about food and consumption, rather than letting it ossify like gefilte fish left too long in the fridge. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/karenadelman-peterlevitt500.jpg\" alt=\"Karen Adelman and Peter Levitt - owners of Sauls\" title=\"Karen Adelman and Peter Levitt - owners of Sauls\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10721\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To this end, towering sandwiches were slimmed down, no longer stacked with jaw-defying stacks of meat. Meats became sustainably ranched, grass-fed when possible. Vegetables started to come from local farms. Corn-syruped drinks were out; housemade sodas were in. Most recently, salami was dropped from the menu; Hebrew National, the only widely available brand of all-beef salami, is now owned by giant Con Agra. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/matzoball-soup500.jpg\" alt=\"matzo ball soup made from pastured chicken\" title=\"matzo ball soup made from pastured chicken\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10722\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This being Berkeley, you'd think pasture-raised chicken soup would earn nothing but mazel tovs. But not everyone, it seemed, wanted consciousness-raising alongside their blintzes and brisket. There was pushback from some customers, and an overall question: How much could a deli change and still be a deli? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/grassfed-brisket500.jpg\" alt=\"grassfed brisket butterball potatoes and Riverdog chard\" title=\"grassfed brisket butterball potatoes and Riverdog chard\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10720\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hence the referendum, featuring Karen and Paul in conversation with Saul's regular and local superstar \u003ca href=\"http://www.michaelpollan.com/\">Michael Pollan\u003c/a>; green-business maven \u003ca href=\"http://www.natlogic.com/resources/publications/the-truth-about-green-business/\">Gil Friend\u003c/a>, \u003ca href=\"http://www.cityslickerfarms.org\">City Slickers Farms\u003c/a> founder (and self-described \"pastrami addict\" Willow Rosenthal, the whole moderated by \u003ca href=\"http://www.kcrw.com/people/kleiman_evan?role=host\">Evan Kleinman\u003c/a>, host of \u003ca href=\"http://www.kcrw.com/etc/programs/gf\">KRCW's Good Food\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Having heard the phrase \"2 Jews, 3 opinions\" tossed around by my opinionated, argue-for-the-sake-of-it relatives all my life, I was ready for some Talmudic-level conflict, some heated words exchanged in the interest of radical change vs. How Bubbe Did It. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Alas, though, everyone on the panel agreed on nearly everything. Nostalgia is no excuse for a lack of conscience; if you care about eating locally, organically, sustainably and/or humanely at home, why should a Jewish deli give you a free pass to wallow in feedlot beef or syrupy soda? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Said Peter, \"We started with not wanting to sell meat we wouldn't eat. We want to drag the deli out of the museum, let it breathe with the seasons for a change.\" Right now, his challenge is corned beef: the grass-fed beef from local Marin Sun Farms, delicious as it is, isn't holding up to the 2- to 3-week brining process. It's been coming out dry and crumbly, probably due to being more muscled and less fatty that typical feedlot beef. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And then there's the menu problem: Saul's, like most delis, has a huge menu. There's the everyday menu, an equally long, but more international, seasonally-inspired specials menu, and then the \"secret\" menu of the more hard-core, Old World items--flanken, kishkes, things made with schmaltz and braised in gravy. Peter would like to see the menu shortened and made more manageable (and cost-effective); if that means no cold beet borscht in winter, so be it. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Says Karen, \"I think we should be leading, not just reacting. We're hungry for meaning and community, along with comfort food. We need to connect with our future as well as our past. I promise, no one will leave hungry!\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, even in Berkeley, there's room to toe more than one party line. If this were New York City, or Los Angeles, where deli culture, while battered, is still alive, one deli's decision to nix the salami would hardly generate SRO crowds at the 92nd St Y. But delis are few in the Bay Area, and so Saul's clientele takes any changes personally . But if there are Hebrew National fans and lox diehards out there, they're keeping quiet; the crowd claps and nods along with just about everything Pollan, Rosenthal, and Friend present, even recoiling a little in genteel horror at brightly colored slides of jaw-defying pastrami sandwiches teetering higher than Lady Gaga's heels. Those massive sandwiches, long the symbol of post-war abundance, a meaty slap in the face to immigrant privation, are no longer sustainable; as Peter points out, there's no way to provide that much meat, particularly if it's good, humanely raised meat, at a price regular customers can bear. \"Those huge sandwiches are killing the deli. You can't make money selling 12 oz of meat for $10 or $15. At a steakhouse, you'd pay $30 or $40 for that much meat, and you'd buy a bottle of wine.\" Instead, Karen and Peter want to offer their customers alternatives that taste good, with a little patient explanation to help it along. Already, the menu emphasizes smoked trout (farmed) over overfished salmon, and more and more Mediterranean inspired salads and vegetable dishes to go along with the potato pancakes and cheesecake. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Pollan, for one, sees the democratization of the food movement as a very good thing. \"Getting sustainable food into delis, taquerias, cheaper places, that's great because it makes it more accessible to everyone.\" Agrees Friend, \"We vote with our dollars every day.\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If the deli is our secular synagogue, as Pollan muses, clearly this one is reform, maybe even reconstructionist. So fizz up an egg cream or raise a glass of borscht, and toast the new deli.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>VIDEO CLIP OF EVENT:\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cobject classid=\"d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000\" codebase=\"http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,0,0\" width=\"400\" height=\"264\">\u003cparam name=\"flashvars\" value=\"webhost=fora.tv&clipid=11451&cliptype=clip\">\u003cparam name=\"allowScriptAccess\" value=\"always\">\u003cparam name=\"allowFullScreen\" value=\"true\">\u003cparam name=\"movie\" value=\"http://fora.tv/embedded_player\">\u003cembed flashvars=\"webhost=fora.tv&clipid=11451&cliptype=clip\" src=\"http://fora.tv/embedded_player\" width=\"400\" height=\"264\" allowscriptaccess=\"always\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" pluginspage=\"http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/object>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Photos provided by \u003ca href=\"http://www.saulsdeli.com/\">Saul's\u003c/a>\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Related Posts:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.ethicurean.com/2010/02/15/jewish-deli/\">Saul's got SOLE: The Jewish deli in Berkeley evolves\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\nby \u003cem>Marc R. aka Mental Masala\u003c/em> at \u003ca href=\"http://www.ethicurean.com/\">The Ethicurean\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://civileats.com/2010/02/18/referendum-on-the-deli-menu-at-saul%E2%80%99s-restaurant-and-delicatessen-what-is-tradition/\">Referendum on the Deli Menu at Saul's Restaurant and Delicatessen: What is Tradition?\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\nby Vanessa Barrington at \u003ca href=\"http://civileats.com/\">Civil Eats\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Meals with Mom in the Mission",
"title": "Meals with Mom in the Mission",
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"content": "\u003cp>As I get older, I identify less and less with my adolescent self. In fact, not infrequently, I imagine going back in time and smacking myself on the head. I'm only in my very late twenties, but the period of my life has already become a vague unpleasant fog punctuated on rare occasion by vivid waves of memory. I suspect strongly that I was whiny, overly self-conscious, woefully insecure, and generally a twerp. I do clearly remember that, when I was in my mid-teens, I (like most teenagers) didn't get along particularly well with my parents. I also recall that my impatience with their habits and eccentricities tended to erupt at meal-times. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/momcartoon500.jpg\" alt=\"andrew and mom with fish cartoon\" title=\"andrew and mom with fish cartoon\" width=\"500\" height=\"312\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10627\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A classic scenario: I was 13, on my first trip to Europe with the family. We were at a good French place in the 14th Arrondissement. My mom ordered in English, but she spoke with what my brother and I felt was a contrived French accent -- rolling R's, stretching out E's, her voice rising up higher than usual at the ends of sentences. She might have been nervous. She might have been drunk. In any event, whatever it was she was doing was unintentional. At first, we giggled into our water glasses, amused. After it happened at every restaurant we visited, we were mortified, irritated and finally nasty -- all because she insisted again and again that she was speaking no differently than usual. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Family vacations were known for bad meals -- but usually only on the nights we'd arrive in a new city. At the mercy of indifferent hotel clerks, governed by hasty impulses spurred on by empty stomachs and jet-lag, we'd fall prey to half-cooked, insipid pizza in Rome, succumb to over-priced, grease-laden bistro fare in Paris, and settle for fusion-y Mission-style burrito wraps in San Francisco. It became a chronic thing, a syndrome that permeated all interactions. The bad food and exhaustion would inevitably lead to an argument, and we’d end up trying to put it all back together the next day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These days, I don't feel like a teenager too often -- except maybe when I'm home for the holidays. Now, when my mom comes to San Francisco for a vacation, good feelings swell to the surface. Our meals together are the highlights of her visits and I try hard to make them meaningful and pleasant. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In 2003, less than a year after I moved to the Bay Area, my mom visited for the first time. On the evening of her arrival, we were wandering around downtown, looking at buildings. Even though I hadn't yet had one myself, I figured she'd like to eat a fish taco -- because I'd heard it was one of those important California food things. I just didn't know where to get one. Since we were in the area already, we moseyed into the now-defunct \u003ca href=\"http://www.chevys.com/\">Chevy's\u003c/a> at Embarcadero Two and supped on grilled fish tacos with pico de gallo, lettuce, and fresh cheese. If she found the meal revolting, she didn't let on. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Since then, I have found better places to take her, destinations informed by what I've read and experienced as a focused seeker of tasty things -- a portion of my identity I had not quite realized in 2003. My mom digs unusual food, but nothing too strange. She will eat fish sauce, but not fish heads. She likes a clean restaurant with a pleasant atmosphere, but she's also cost-conscious and unswayed by pretentious flourishes. She eats seafood, but eschews meat -- which eliminates Korean barbecue joints, pork-heavy Shanghai-style dumpling houses, and \u003ca href=\"http://www.incanto.biz/\">Incanto\u003c/a> from contention. My mom prefers to eat reasonably healthy food. As a result, sushi, ceviche, or pizza with vegetables appeal more than battered fish, cream-laden sauces, or anything destined to be dabbed with aioli. When I'm picking out a restaurant, I filter these criteria through other sets of necessary circumstance. When she visits, she usually stays somewhere in the Union Square, so I like to take her somewhere within swift striking distance via BART or Muni. Being lazy, I usually stick to my neighborhood, the Mission District, where I've lived for the vast majority of my time in San Francisco. On a few occasions, I have lightly pushed the envelope. In 2004, we went to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/utopia-cafe-san-francisco\">Utopia Cafe\u003c/a>, a sneaky spot down an alley in Chinatown. I wouldn't call it a \"dive\" exactly. That word is over-used; it shouldn't apply to every restaurant disinterested in putting a premium on inedible trappings like decor and service. Fruit flies circled like helicopters over a battlefield as we attacked clay pot rice with shrimp, mustard green soup, and salt-and-pepper fried bean curd, but the food tasted fresh, and that eclipsed any sanitation concerns. A year or so later, we went to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/minako-organic-japanese-restaurant-san-francisco\">Minako\u003c/a>, the organic mother-and-daughter-owned Japanese eatery. I thought she'd enjoy the food -- tataki, gobo kinpira, salmon misozuke -- but I also suspected the restaurant's cool quirks would appeal, that she'd get a kick out of the snappy, funny daughter and the odd location -- Mission Street, boasting a sign the size of a playing card you can't see unless, as I recall, you're approaching from a very specific angle along the sidewalk. Another time we visited \u003ca href=\"http://www.kijirestaurant.com/\">Kiji\u003c/a>, an ordinary but inoffensive sushi place on Guerrero just because it was conveniently close to a Valencia shoe store she'd been perusing. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She really liked \u003ca href=\"http://www.delfinasf.com/\">Delfina\u003c/a>, but her reaction to the food nonetheless confirmed my suspicions that she would inevitably rather go out to eat what she doesn't cook at home, where pasta, pizza, and risotto frequently grace the dinner table. Even though Delfina is a better restaurant -- albeit a very different one -- she was truly blown away by \u003ca href=\"http://www.destinosf.com/menu.htm\">Destino\u003c/a>. We went there in 2006 or 2007 -- well after its heyday -- but she still talks about it -- because, at the time, it was so unusual to her.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She's coming to town for a few days later this week, and this time around, the first visit in nearly two years, I'm brimming with ideas. There's a Mayan restaurant in Louisville my mom adores. While it's not at all awful, it is something there that it would not be here, which is fine. After all, when it comes to barbecue and beef jerky, San Francisco could learn a few things too. Still, I'd like to take her to \u003ca href=\"http://www.pocchuc.com/\">Poc Chuc\u003c/a> -- even if platters of juicy, thin-sliced pork (the restaurant's namesake) don't jive with her diet. She'd be happy enough with feathery, toasty corn tortillas, a bowl of the smooth black beans, and a few bites of fish -- though I don't imagine she would dive into the head for the best pieces. I thought about \u003ca href=\"http://www.universalcafe.net//\">Universal Cafe\u003c/a>, but I think she'd prefer something less familiar. \u003ca href=\"http://www.laciccia.com/\">La Ciccia\u003c/a> is another option, the current front-runner, I'm afraid. Sardinian flavors -- rich, heady fregula pasta with ricotta and cured tuna heart, smoky, spicy octopus stew -- diverge enough from the Italian fare she knows well. If I were really daring, we would go to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/yellow-pa-taut-san-francisco\">Yellow Pa Taut\u003c/a> on Bryant and 7th for the best Burmese in the city: Tea leaf salad, fried squash, and catfish noodle soup, perhaps -- all within spitting distance of the courthouse's grim facade. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm lucky to share life (and a kitchen) with my girlfriend, who has an equally serious relationship with food. Our weeks revolve around dinners together. When we eat somewhere particularly nice, whether an old stand-by or a newcomer, we often imagine how our parents would like it. Hers enjoy eating at least as much as mine, if not much more. That process is natural; it makes the meal better. I feel the same way about music. I have a few big stacks of vinyl, but I don't play records too often around the house. When friends are over, musician friends particularly, I'm galvanized into action. I slip on a record. I tell stories I know about the band. I react to what I'm hearing and the feelings I have about it in their presence, and their reactions combine with mine to enrich the experience. Food is not much different. A steak is better shared; so is \u003ca href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zpBR6k06-k&feature=related\">Mavis Staples\u003c/a>. The restaurants I pick for dinners with my mom have evolved along with me, but regardless of where we end up eating, every meal speaks to the power of shared experience. To adapt and respond to a well-travelled adage: If a meal falls on your table and there's no one there with whom to share it, its deliciousness cannot help but be diminished -- even if you write about it.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "These days, I don't feel like a teenager too often -- except maybe when I'm home for the holidays. Now, when my mom comes to San Francisco for a vacation, good feelings swell to the surface. Our meals together are the highlights of her visits and I try hard to make them meaningful and pleasant. ",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>As I get older, I identify less and less with my adolescent self. In fact, not infrequently, I imagine going back in time and smacking myself on the head. I'm only in my very late twenties, but the period of my life has already become a vague unpleasant fog punctuated on rare occasion by vivid waves of memory. I suspect strongly that I was whiny, overly self-conscious, woefully insecure, and generally a twerp. I do clearly remember that, when I was in my mid-teens, I (like most teenagers) didn't get along particularly well with my parents. I also recall that my impatience with their habits and eccentricities tended to erupt at meal-times. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/momcartoon500.jpg\" alt=\"andrew and mom with fish cartoon\" title=\"andrew and mom with fish cartoon\" width=\"500\" height=\"312\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10627\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A classic scenario: I was 13, on my first trip to Europe with the family. We were at a good French place in the 14th Arrondissement. My mom ordered in English, but she spoke with what my brother and I felt was a contrived French accent -- rolling R's, stretching out E's, her voice rising up higher than usual at the ends of sentences. She might have been nervous. She might have been drunk. In any event, whatever it was she was doing was unintentional. At first, we giggled into our water glasses, amused. After it happened at every restaurant we visited, we were mortified, irritated and finally nasty -- all because she insisted again and again that she was speaking no differently than usual. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Family vacations were known for bad meals -- but usually only on the nights we'd arrive in a new city. At the mercy of indifferent hotel clerks, governed by hasty impulses spurred on by empty stomachs and jet-lag, we'd fall prey to half-cooked, insipid pizza in Rome, succumb to over-priced, grease-laden bistro fare in Paris, and settle for fusion-y Mission-style burrito wraps in San Francisco. It became a chronic thing, a syndrome that permeated all interactions. The bad food and exhaustion would inevitably lead to an argument, and we’d end up trying to put it all back together the next day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These days, I don't feel like a teenager too often -- except maybe when I'm home for the holidays. Now, when my mom comes to San Francisco for a vacation, good feelings swell to the surface. Our meals together are the highlights of her visits and I try hard to make them meaningful and pleasant. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In 2003, less than a year after I moved to the Bay Area, my mom visited for the first time. On the evening of her arrival, we were wandering around downtown, looking at buildings. Even though I hadn't yet had one myself, I figured she'd like to eat a fish taco -- because I'd heard it was one of those important California food things. I just didn't know where to get one. Since we were in the area already, we moseyed into the now-defunct \u003ca href=\"http://www.chevys.com/\">Chevy's\u003c/a> at Embarcadero Two and supped on grilled fish tacos with pico de gallo, lettuce, and fresh cheese. If she found the meal revolting, she didn't let on. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Since then, I have found better places to take her, destinations informed by what I've read and experienced as a focused seeker of tasty things -- a portion of my identity I had not quite realized in 2003. My mom digs unusual food, but nothing too strange. She will eat fish sauce, but not fish heads. She likes a clean restaurant with a pleasant atmosphere, but she's also cost-conscious and unswayed by pretentious flourishes. She eats seafood, but eschews meat -- which eliminates Korean barbecue joints, pork-heavy Shanghai-style dumpling houses, and \u003ca href=\"http://www.incanto.biz/\">Incanto\u003c/a> from contention. My mom prefers to eat reasonably healthy food. As a result, sushi, ceviche, or pizza with vegetables appeal more than battered fish, cream-laden sauces, or anything destined to be dabbed with aioli. When I'm picking out a restaurant, I filter these criteria through other sets of necessary circumstance. When she visits, she usually stays somewhere in the Union Square, so I like to take her somewhere within swift striking distance via BART or Muni. Being lazy, I usually stick to my neighborhood, the Mission District, where I've lived for the vast majority of my time in San Francisco. On a few occasions, I have lightly pushed the envelope. In 2004, we went to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/utopia-cafe-san-francisco\">Utopia Cafe\u003c/a>, a sneaky spot down an alley in Chinatown. I wouldn't call it a \"dive\" exactly. That word is over-used; it shouldn't apply to every restaurant disinterested in putting a premium on inedible trappings like decor and service. Fruit flies circled like helicopters over a battlefield as we attacked clay pot rice with shrimp, mustard green soup, and salt-and-pepper fried bean curd, but the food tasted fresh, and that eclipsed any sanitation concerns. A year or so later, we went to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/minako-organic-japanese-restaurant-san-francisco\">Minako\u003c/a>, the organic mother-and-daughter-owned Japanese eatery. I thought she'd enjoy the food -- tataki, gobo kinpira, salmon misozuke -- but I also suspected the restaurant's cool quirks would appeal, that she'd get a kick out of the snappy, funny daughter and the odd location -- Mission Street, boasting a sign the size of a playing card you can't see unless, as I recall, you're approaching from a very specific angle along the sidewalk. Another time we visited \u003ca href=\"http://www.kijirestaurant.com/\">Kiji\u003c/a>, an ordinary but inoffensive sushi place on Guerrero just because it was conveniently close to a Valencia shoe store she'd been perusing. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She really liked \u003ca href=\"http://www.delfinasf.com/\">Delfina\u003c/a>, but her reaction to the food nonetheless confirmed my suspicions that she would inevitably rather go out to eat what she doesn't cook at home, where pasta, pizza, and risotto frequently grace the dinner table. Even though Delfina is a better restaurant -- albeit a very different one -- she was truly blown away by \u003ca href=\"http://www.destinosf.com/menu.htm\">Destino\u003c/a>. We went there in 2006 or 2007 -- well after its heyday -- but she still talks about it -- because, at the time, it was so unusual to her.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She's coming to town for a few days later this week, and this time around, the first visit in nearly two years, I'm brimming with ideas. There's a Mayan restaurant in Louisville my mom adores. While it's not at all awful, it is something there that it would not be here, which is fine. After all, when it comes to barbecue and beef jerky, San Francisco could learn a few things too. Still, I'd like to take her to \u003ca href=\"http://www.pocchuc.com/\">Poc Chuc\u003c/a> -- even if platters of juicy, thin-sliced pork (the restaurant's namesake) don't jive with her diet. She'd be happy enough with feathery, toasty corn tortillas, a bowl of the smooth black beans, and a few bites of fish -- though I don't imagine she would dive into the head for the best pieces. I thought about \u003ca href=\"http://www.universalcafe.net//\">Universal Cafe\u003c/a>, but I think she'd prefer something less familiar. \u003ca href=\"http://www.laciccia.com/\">La Ciccia\u003c/a> is another option, the current front-runner, I'm afraid. Sardinian flavors -- rich, heady fregula pasta with ricotta and cured tuna heart, smoky, spicy octopus stew -- diverge enough from the Italian fare she knows well. If I were really daring, we would go to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/yellow-pa-taut-san-francisco\">Yellow Pa Taut\u003c/a> on Bryant and 7th for the best Burmese in the city: Tea leaf salad, fried squash, and catfish noodle soup, perhaps -- all within spitting distance of the courthouse's grim facade. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm lucky to share life (and a kitchen) with my girlfriend, who has an equally serious relationship with food. Our weeks revolve around dinners together. When we eat somewhere particularly nice, whether an old stand-by or a newcomer, we often imagine how our parents would like it. Hers enjoy eating at least as much as mine, if not much more. That process is natural; it makes the meal better. I feel the same way about music. I have a few big stacks of vinyl, but I don't play records too often around the house. When friends are over, musician friends particularly, I'm galvanized into action. I slip on a record. I tell stories I know about the band. I react to what I'm hearing and the feelings I have about it in their presence, and their reactions combine with mine to enrich the experience. Food is not much different. A steak is better shared; so is \u003ca href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zpBR6k06-k&feature=related\">Mavis Staples\u003c/a>. The restaurants I pick for dinners with my mom have evolved along with me, but regardless of where we end up eating, every meal speaks to the power of shared experience. To adapt and respond to a well-travelled adage: If a meal falls on your table and there's no one there with whom to share it, its deliciousness cannot help but be diminished -- even if you write about it.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>The rain was pouring down in sheets, the streets smeared and shiny as licorice along Larkspur's main drag. You'd think that, on this chilly, wet Monday night, everyone would be at home pulling a pizza from the freezer and flipping through the Netflix stack, but up and down Magnolia Street, there's not a parking place to be found. By eight o'clock, nearly every table at \u003ca href=\"http://www.restaurantpicco.com/\">Picco\u003c/a> is full and happy. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Welcome to Marin Mondays, chef-owner Bruce Hill's popular eat-local brainstorm. The concept is simple: each Monday, the restaurant offers a homey, five-course prix fixe menu showcasing local producers, for $30-$33 a person. (The restaurant's extensive regular menu is also available, and the Marin menu items can be sampled à la carte.) Think \u003ca href=\"http://www.adhocrestaurant.com/\">Ad Hoc\u003c/a> with a locavore twist, and so far, it's brought out big crowds every week, on a night that's typically a slow one in the restaurant biz. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This might be a tricky proposition in, say, Fargo, or Cleveland, but with the Pacific Ocean on one side, San Francisco Bay on the other, and the rich, rolling green fields, woods, and pastures of rural West Marin (plus oyster-friendly Tomales Bay) in between, Marin County is pretty much a year-round bounty of bliss for local-conscious eaters and producers alike. Fishermen, dairy ranchers, farmers, vintners, and foragers all work the land (and water) here, raising sheep, cows, goats, and chickens on grass, farming oysters in the bays, making cheese, distilling liqueurs, catching squid, growing greens, picking mushrooms, baking bread in wood-fired ovens, and more. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So, sourcing: not a problem. And the menu's once-a-week status gives Picco's cooks the chance to be micro-seasonal in their creativity as they come up with new recipes based on whatever cool stuff is available each week. As long as there's enough of it to feed one night's worth of customers, they can use it-- a great boon to the foragers and farmers with just a few acres of continually cycling crops. And the menu isn't strictly local-limited; there's coconut milk in the curry, candied ginger on the ice cream, sriracha hot sauce on the fish cakes. But flavorings aside, the bulk of the ingredients come from nearby, because even in the depths of winter, abundance reigns. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And the menu is open to interpretation each week, instead of being locked down in the pristine, unadorned Cal-Med style, all sea salt and olive oil, that has become the de facto way of cooking local here. On the night we went, the inspiration was Thailand, with a side of Jersey & Buffalo. Or at least that's how we interpreted the appearance of sliders, chicken wings, and soft-serve ice cream between the squid salad and beef curry. To sip, there are two local libations, a Stubbs Estate organic chardonnay and a Shaken, Not Stirred cocktail made with house-infused elderflower liqueur and \u003ca href=\"http://www.squareonevodka.com\">Square One\u003c/a> cucumber vodka, made in Novato. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Last Monday, in honor of \u003ca href=\"http://www.sfbeerweek.org/\">Beer Week\u003c/a>, there was beer from Marin Brew Company in every dish, from Hog Island manila clams steamed in Albion ale to a fritto misto battered with IPA, cheddar soup with pilsner and rye croutons, and a stout cake with Straus Dairy caramel ice cream. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But back to Thailand in Marin. We started with a light and lovely squid salad, tender and tangy and tangled with cubes of crunchy Asian pear and fresh herbs, alongside a puff of succulent miners' lettuce, that wonderful winter weed named for adding much-needed vitamins to many a Forty-Niner's salt pork-and-sourdough diet. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/squid.jpg\" alt=\"squid salad\" title=\"squid salad\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10594\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Next up, a gloriously (but not excessively) greasy fish \"slider,\" White Castle meets Thai fish cake. Unlike the fish cakes in Thai restaurants, which are often bounceably rubbery, these were more like crab cakes, made with rock cod from Bolinas, gentle and just a little springy, lavished with crunchy County Line cabbage and Star Route Farm carrot slaw, dripping with sriracha-spiked mayo and paired with super-crunchy, extra-salty chiplets made from sunchoke curls. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/slider2.jpg\" alt=\"fish slider\" title=\"fish slider\" width=\"378\" height=\"504\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10593\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Superbowl-sublime chicken wings from Coastal Hill Farms followed, lacquered sticky-meaty mouthfuls, messy and wonderful. A thick puddle of seasoned Straus yogurt sauce and a mound of shredded celery root with baby watercress replaced the ranch dressing and celery sticks of sports-bar tradition. Dressing up lowbrow favorites doesn't always work (I'm still shaking my head over the dainty arugula-and-mandarin-orange salad served with the lobster roll at nearby Yankee Pier when they first opened—when, as every New Englander knows, a true lobster roll needs nothing but a bag of chips) but in this case, it's great. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/chicken.jpg\" alt=\"chicken wings\" title=\"chicken wings\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10590\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By this time, we're pretty happily fed. The main dish, a Mussaman beef and potato curry, looks a little skimpy lurking at the bottom of its big white bowls, but it's deceptive. Rich and coconut-sauced, dotted with translucent, almost fetal baby radishes, the Marin Sun braised short ribs fork tender and lush, it turns out to be all we need. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/main.jpg\" alt=\"Mussaman beef and potato curry\" title=\"Mussaman beef and potato curry\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10592\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All we're expecting for dessert is a bitty swirl of Picco's famous Straus Dairy soft-serve, what might fill a Chinese-restaurant teacup. Instead, we get a massive swirl towering above a cereal bowl, heavily crunched with candied ginger and pecan praline. Lovely, palate-cleansing, and crazily big. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then again, being graced with too much ice cream made from the milk of happy local cows? Way, way down on my list of Bad Things.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/dessert.jpg\" alt=\"ice cream dessert\" title=\"ice cream dessert\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10591\">\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.restaurantpicco.com/index.html\">Picco\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n320 Magnolia Ave.\u003cbr>\nLarkspur, California 94939\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=picco+320+Magnolia+Ave.+Larkspur,+California+94939&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=59.769082,55.546875&ie=UTF8&hq=picco&hnear=320+Magnolia+Ave,+Larkspur,+CA+94939&z=17&iwloc=A\">Map\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n415.924.0300\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.facebook.com/pages/Larkspur-CA/Restaurant-Picco/136569578899?ref=mf&v=wall\">Picco on Facebook\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cstrong>\u003cem>Photos by Debra St. John\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The rain was pouring down in sheets, the streets smeared and shiny as licorice along Larkspur's main drag. You'd think that, on this chilly, wet Monday night, everyone would be at home pulling a pizza from the freezer and flipping through the Netflix stack, but up and down Magnolia Street, there's not a parking place to be found. By eight o'clock, nearly every table at \u003ca href=\"http://www.restaurantpicco.com/\">Picco\u003c/a> is full and happy. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Welcome to Marin Mondays, chef-owner Bruce Hill's popular eat-local brainstorm. The concept is simple: each Monday, the restaurant offers a homey, five-course prix fixe menu showcasing local producers, for $30-$33 a person. (The restaurant's extensive regular menu is also available, and the Marin menu items can be sampled à la carte.) Think \u003ca href=\"http://www.adhocrestaurant.com/\">Ad Hoc\u003c/a> with a locavore twist, and so far, it's brought out big crowds every week, on a night that's typically a slow one in the restaurant biz. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This might be a tricky proposition in, say, Fargo, or Cleveland, but with the Pacific Ocean on one side, San Francisco Bay on the other, and the rich, rolling green fields, woods, and pastures of rural West Marin (plus oyster-friendly Tomales Bay) in between, Marin County is pretty much a year-round bounty of bliss for local-conscious eaters and producers alike. Fishermen, dairy ranchers, farmers, vintners, and foragers all work the land (and water) here, raising sheep, cows, goats, and chickens on grass, farming oysters in the bays, making cheese, distilling liqueurs, catching squid, growing greens, picking mushrooms, baking bread in wood-fired ovens, and more. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So, sourcing: not a problem. And the menu's once-a-week status gives Picco's cooks the chance to be micro-seasonal in their creativity as they come up with new recipes based on whatever cool stuff is available each week. As long as there's enough of it to feed one night's worth of customers, they can use it-- a great boon to the foragers and farmers with just a few acres of continually cycling crops. And the menu isn't strictly local-limited; there's coconut milk in the curry, candied ginger on the ice cream, sriracha hot sauce on the fish cakes. But flavorings aside, the bulk of the ingredients come from nearby, because even in the depths of winter, abundance reigns. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And the menu is open to interpretation each week, instead of being locked down in the pristine, unadorned Cal-Med style, all sea salt and olive oil, that has become the de facto way of cooking local here. On the night we went, the inspiration was Thailand, with a side of Jersey & Buffalo. Or at least that's how we interpreted the appearance of sliders, chicken wings, and soft-serve ice cream between the squid salad and beef curry. To sip, there are two local libations, a Stubbs Estate organic chardonnay and a Shaken, Not Stirred cocktail made with house-infused elderflower liqueur and \u003ca href=\"http://www.squareonevodka.com\">Square One\u003c/a> cucumber vodka, made in Novato. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Last Monday, in honor of \u003ca href=\"http://www.sfbeerweek.org/\">Beer Week\u003c/a>, there was beer from Marin Brew Company in every dish, from Hog Island manila clams steamed in Albion ale to a fritto misto battered with IPA, cheddar soup with pilsner and rye croutons, and a stout cake with Straus Dairy caramel ice cream. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But back to Thailand in Marin. We started with a light and lovely squid salad, tender and tangy and tangled with cubes of crunchy Asian pear and fresh herbs, alongside a puff of succulent miners' lettuce, that wonderful winter weed named for adding much-needed vitamins to many a Forty-Niner's salt pork-and-sourdough diet. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/squid.jpg\" alt=\"squid salad\" title=\"squid salad\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10594\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Next up, a gloriously (but not excessively) greasy fish \"slider,\" White Castle meets Thai fish cake. Unlike the fish cakes in Thai restaurants, which are often bounceably rubbery, these were more like crab cakes, made with rock cod from Bolinas, gentle and just a little springy, lavished with crunchy County Line cabbage and Star Route Farm carrot slaw, dripping with sriracha-spiked mayo and paired with super-crunchy, extra-salty chiplets made from sunchoke curls. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/slider2.jpg\" alt=\"fish slider\" title=\"fish slider\" width=\"378\" height=\"504\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10593\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Superbowl-sublime chicken wings from Coastal Hill Farms followed, lacquered sticky-meaty mouthfuls, messy and wonderful. A thick puddle of seasoned Straus yogurt sauce and a mound of shredded celery root with baby watercress replaced the ranch dressing and celery sticks of sports-bar tradition. Dressing up lowbrow favorites doesn't always work (I'm still shaking my head over the dainty arugula-and-mandarin-orange salad served with the lobster roll at nearby Yankee Pier when they first opened—when, as every New Englander knows, a true lobster roll needs nothing but a bag of chips) but in this case, it's great. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/chicken.jpg\" alt=\"chicken wings\" title=\"chicken wings\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10590\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By this time, we're pretty happily fed. The main dish, a Mussaman beef and potato curry, looks a little skimpy lurking at the bottom of its big white bowls, but it's deceptive. Rich and coconut-sauced, dotted with translucent, almost fetal baby radishes, the Marin Sun braised short ribs fork tender and lush, it turns out to be all we need. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/main.jpg\" alt=\"Mussaman beef and potato curry\" title=\"Mussaman beef and potato curry\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10592\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All we're expecting for dessert is a bitty swirl of Picco's famous Straus Dairy soft-serve, what might fill a Chinese-restaurant teacup. Instead, we get a massive swirl towering above a cereal bowl, heavily crunched with candied ginger and pecan praline. Lovely, palate-cleansing, and crazily big. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then again, being graced with too much ice cream made from the milk of happy local cows? Way, way down on my list of Bad Things.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/dessert.jpg\" alt=\"ice cream dessert\" title=\"ice cream dessert\" width=\"504\" height=\"432\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10591\">\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.restaurantpicco.com/index.html\">Picco\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n320 Magnolia Ave.\u003cbr>\nLarkspur, California 94939\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=picco+320+Magnolia+Ave.+Larkspur,+California+94939&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=59.769082,55.546875&ie=UTF8&hq=picco&hnear=320+Magnolia+Ave,+Larkspur,+CA+94939&z=17&iwloc=A\">Map\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n415.924.0300\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.facebook.com/pages/Larkspur-CA/Restaurant-Picco/136569578899?ref=mf&v=wall\">Picco on Facebook\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cstrong>\u003cem>Photos by Debra St. John\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/matchinghalflatte.jpg\" alt=\"Lattes at Matching Half Cafe\" title=\"Lattes at Matching Half Cafe\" width=\"500\" height=\"250\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10191\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Lattes at Matching Half Cafe\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> So I moved to the city a few weeks ago. After enduring many sweaty hours of \u003cem>I can't imagine anything I'd rather be doing less\u003c/em>, I've vowed never to move out of my apartment for as long as I shall live. Yes, the size of the kitchen will take a little getting used to, and I may never have a grown-up dinner party. But moving is just no fun. Getting the couch up the four flights of stairs was an unspeakable feat. That being said, I've put it all behind me and am settling in just fine: finding my favorite grocery store, getting the bus route figured out, exploring yoga studios to find one I like and--of course--drinking lots of coffee.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> Now the Internet's a pretty big part of my life since I do a lot of writing from home. And since Comcast rarely works with anyone's ideal schedule, they couldn't come out for five days after I moved in, so I set out researching some free Wi-Fi which brought me to the following neighborhood gems in the NOPA/Western Addition neighborhood. While the free Wi-Fi is what initially attracted me to these coffee shops, I love each for different reasons and still go frequently despite the fact that the wireless is up and kickin' at home. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.matchinghalfcafe.com/\">The Matching Half\u003c/a> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/matchinghalfmenu.jpg\" alt=\"Airy and industrial interior of Matching Half Cafe and menu\" title=\"Airy and industrial interior of Matching Half Cafe and menu\" width=\"500\" height=\"250\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10187\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Airy and industrial interior of Matching Half Cafe\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>The Matching Half\u003c/em> is one of those places I'm excited to bring people to. \u003cem>Yes, come and check out the new digs, and I'll take you to my new favorite coffee place.\u003c/em> Those are words I've uttered numerous times in the last few weeks. And before telling you all about how rad it is, a quick disclaimer for the laptop crowd: there are very few outlets, so if you've got a laptop battery that's hanging on for dear life, this may not be the best choice. However, it's great for so many other reasons, and I'm almost hesitant to talk about it because I like its tucked-away, not-too-crowded, neighborhood appeal. I appreciate places that pay close attention to each detail, from the lovely ceramic cups to the metal bar, to the stark but warm industrial space. I love the menu penned on craft paper. I love the vivid, industrial painting by \u003ca href=\"http://www.mikeshankman.com/\">Mike Shankman\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When not working, settling into one of the window-side tables is prime people watching territory. There are dog walkers, young families buying treats and hanging at the outdoor tables, and runners cruising towards the Panhandle. And the coffee: this is not quick in-out-and-on-with-your-life coffee. It really is slowly and carefully prepared and it shows. The lattes are beautiful and strong, and they have numerous single-origin drip coffees brewed to order. They also have a small but nice selection of breakfast pastries (the croissants are buttery, flaky goodness), sandwiches and salads. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/croissant500.jpg\" alt=\"croissant from The Matching Half \" title=\"croissant from The Matching Half \" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10190\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And while I haven't had the pleasure of having a glass of beer or wine--it's sure to happen in the coming week. They do happy hour specials from 4pm-6pm daily, and have some interesting bottles of beer available. Like Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout and PBR in a bottle. Right now they actually have a breakfast panino and PBR special. I can't say that I've ever had PBR in a bottle and I definitely haven't had PBR for breakfast...but here's to a new home and new beginnings, perhaps PBR and all. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.matchinghalfcafe.com/\">The Matching Half\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n1799 McAllister (@Baker), San Francisco, CA 94117\u003cbr>\n(415) 674-8699\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Mon.-Thurs.: 7am-7pm; Fri. 7am-10pm; Sat. 8am-10pm; Sun. 8am-6pm.\u003cbr>\nCash only.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.dajanigroup.net/establishments/cafe-abir/\">Café Abir\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/abir.jpg\" alt=\"storefront of Cafe Abir \" title=\"storefront of Cafe Abir \" width=\"300\" height=\"400\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10188\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Storefront of local favorite, Café Abir\u003c/em> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Café Abir prides itself on roasting their own coffee daily in their micro-roasting machine. They make a rock-solid Americano and a nice, strong latte. But so do many places in the city. So what sets Café Abir apart? What I like is their varied workspace: they have a giant, communal table along with raised round tables with red velour booths that feel like little work nooks. They play good 80's music: I've been sitting here writing for the past hour and there's been some classic Heart, Bruce Springsteen and Men at Work. Good stuff. And they also have tons of individually wrapped treats, from slices of cake, to apricot bars and chocolate-dipped Rice Krispie bars. I'll admit, before I'd stocked the kitchen and actually gotten a feel for the 'hood, I had my fair share of their giant Rice Krispie treats. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Café Abir serves \u003ca href=\"http://www.worldpantry.com/cgi-bin/ncommerce3/ExecMacro/numitea/home.d2w/report\">Numi\u003c/a> tea, and a few different selections of beer and wine. In the evening, I've seen couples having a bottle of beer, presumably before heading out to one of the bars nearby. The red velour couches are that good--and when it's warm enough, the outdoor tables are prime for Divisadero people watching. So while there are dozens of incredible coffee joints around town, I'm thankful Abir's close by, and that they're open a bit later than most. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.dajanigroup.net/establishments/cafe-abir/\">Café Abir\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n300 Fulton Street (@ Divisidero)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94117\u003cbr>\n(415) 567-6503\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Daily, 6am-10pm\u003cbr>\nCash only.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Apollo Coffee\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/apollo.jpg\" alt=\"A quiet Sunday afternoon at Apollo Coffee\" title=\"A quiet Sunday afternoon at Apollo Coffee\" width=\"500\" height=\"168\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10189\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>A quiet Sunday afternoon at Apollo Coffee\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I first moved in, Apollo had a sign on the front door that they'd be closed for the next week. I wasn’t sure if this was because of the construction on Divisadero or because post-holiday business is just darn slow, and it's a smart business move to shutter for a few days. Regardless, I'm happy they're up and running now. This is quite literally the perfect place to get work done--oftentimes I actually feel guilty talking on the phone because the atmosphere is so conducive to quiet work and reading that it tends to have more of a library vibe than a happening coffee house vibe. So while you won’t hear the hippest live music here, there's tons of comfortable individual seating, lots of outlets, and great natural light. It's uber-clean, and the owner is incredibly friendly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> The lattes are great. Their espresso has smooth, sweet notes. And the drip coffee is strong--even though I have a coffeemaker at home, the houseguests I've had prefer to cruise over to Apollo for a cup. They have a small selection of breakfast pastries and scones, panini for lunch, and a great selection of snacks like \u003ca href=\"http://www.larabar.com/\">Lara Bars\u003c/a>, \u003ca href=\"http://www.dagobachocolate.com/\">Dagoba\u003c/a> chocolate, mini brownies, and mini truffles. In fact, I noticed a lot of options for the chocolate aficionado here, from chocolate bars to dark chocolate cupcakes. They sell beer and wine as well, although I think the hours at Apollo aren’t so conducive to this. When asked about the early hours, the owner commented that it's a much quieter part of Divisadero, and maybe in the summer they'll stay open a bit later. Until then, I'm sticking to the coffee, the quiet, and the chocolate. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Apollo Coffee\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n1064 Divisidero St. (between Turk and Golden Gate Blvd)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94115\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Mon.-Thurs. 8am-7pm; Fri.-Sat. 8am-6pm; Sun. 9am-6pm\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/matchinghalflatte.jpg\" alt=\"Lattes at Matching Half Cafe\" title=\"Lattes at Matching Half Cafe\" width=\"500\" height=\"250\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10191\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Lattes at Matching Half Cafe\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> So I moved to the city a few weeks ago. After enduring many sweaty hours of \u003cem>I can't imagine anything I'd rather be doing less\u003c/em>, I've vowed never to move out of my apartment for as long as I shall live. Yes, the size of the kitchen will take a little getting used to, and I may never have a grown-up dinner party. But moving is just no fun. Getting the couch up the four flights of stairs was an unspeakable feat. That being said, I've put it all behind me and am settling in just fine: finding my favorite grocery store, getting the bus route figured out, exploring yoga studios to find one I like and--of course--drinking lots of coffee.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> Now the Internet's a pretty big part of my life since I do a lot of writing from home. And since Comcast rarely works with anyone's ideal schedule, they couldn't come out for five days after I moved in, so I set out researching some free Wi-Fi which brought me to the following neighborhood gems in the NOPA/Western Addition neighborhood. While the free Wi-Fi is what initially attracted me to these coffee shops, I love each for different reasons and still go frequently despite the fact that the wireless is up and kickin' at home. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.matchinghalfcafe.com/\">The Matching Half\u003c/a> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/matchinghalfmenu.jpg\" alt=\"Airy and industrial interior of Matching Half Cafe and menu\" title=\"Airy and industrial interior of Matching Half Cafe and menu\" width=\"500\" height=\"250\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10187\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Airy and industrial interior of Matching Half Cafe\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>The Matching Half\u003c/em> is one of those places I'm excited to bring people to. \u003cem>Yes, come and check out the new digs, and I'll take you to my new favorite coffee place.\u003c/em> Those are words I've uttered numerous times in the last few weeks. And before telling you all about how rad it is, a quick disclaimer for the laptop crowd: there are very few outlets, so if you've got a laptop battery that's hanging on for dear life, this may not be the best choice. However, it's great for so many other reasons, and I'm almost hesitant to talk about it because I like its tucked-away, not-too-crowded, neighborhood appeal. I appreciate places that pay close attention to each detail, from the lovely ceramic cups to the metal bar, to the stark but warm industrial space. I love the menu penned on craft paper. I love the vivid, industrial painting by \u003ca href=\"http://www.mikeshankman.com/\">Mike Shankman\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When not working, settling into one of the window-side tables is prime people watching territory. There are dog walkers, young families buying treats and hanging at the outdoor tables, and runners cruising towards the Panhandle. And the coffee: this is not quick in-out-and-on-with-your-life coffee. It really is slowly and carefully prepared and it shows. The lattes are beautiful and strong, and they have numerous single-origin drip coffees brewed to order. They also have a small but nice selection of breakfast pastries (the croissants are buttery, flaky goodness), sandwiches and salads. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/croissant500.jpg\" alt=\"croissant from The Matching Half \" title=\"croissant from The Matching Half \" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10190\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And while I haven't had the pleasure of having a glass of beer or wine--it's sure to happen in the coming week. They do happy hour specials from 4pm-6pm daily, and have some interesting bottles of beer available. Like Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout and PBR in a bottle. Right now they actually have a breakfast panino and PBR special. I can't say that I've ever had PBR in a bottle and I definitely haven't had PBR for breakfast...but here's to a new home and new beginnings, perhaps PBR and all. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.matchinghalfcafe.com/\">The Matching Half\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n1799 McAllister (@Baker), San Francisco, CA 94117\u003cbr>\n(415) 674-8699\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Mon.-Thurs.: 7am-7pm; Fri. 7am-10pm; Sat. 8am-10pm; Sun. 8am-6pm.\u003cbr>\nCash only.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.dajanigroup.net/establishments/cafe-abir/\">Café Abir\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/abir.jpg\" alt=\"storefront of Cafe Abir \" title=\"storefront of Cafe Abir \" width=\"300\" height=\"400\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10188\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Storefront of local favorite, Café Abir\u003c/em> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Café Abir prides itself on roasting their own coffee daily in their micro-roasting machine. They make a rock-solid Americano and a nice, strong latte. But so do many places in the city. So what sets Café Abir apart? What I like is their varied workspace: they have a giant, communal table along with raised round tables with red velour booths that feel like little work nooks. They play good 80's music: I've been sitting here writing for the past hour and there's been some classic Heart, Bruce Springsteen and Men at Work. Good stuff. And they also have tons of individually wrapped treats, from slices of cake, to apricot bars and chocolate-dipped Rice Krispie bars. I'll admit, before I'd stocked the kitchen and actually gotten a feel for the 'hood, I had my fair share of their giant Rice Krispie treats. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Café Abir serves \u003ca href=\"http://www.worldpantry.com/cgi-bin/ncommerce3/ExecMacro/numitea/home.d2w/report\">Numi\u003c/a> tea, and a few different selections of beer and wine. In the evening, I've seen couples having a bottle of beer, presumably before heading out to one of the bars nearby. The red velour couches are that good--and when it's warm enough, the outdoor tables are prime for Divisadero people watching. So while there are dozens of incredible coffee joints around town, I'm thankful Abir's close by, and that they're open a bit later than most. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.dajanigroup.net/establishments/cafe-abir/\">Café Abir\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n300 Fulton Street (@ Divisidero)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94117\u003cbr>\n(415) 567-6503\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Daily, 6am-10pm\u003cbr>\nCash only.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Apollo Coffee\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/02/apollo.jpg\" alt=\"A quiet Sunday afternoon at Apollo Coffee\" title=\"A quiet Sunday afternoon at Apollo Coffee\" width=\"500\" height=\"168\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-10189\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>A quiet Sunday afternoon at Apollo Coffee\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I first moved in, Apollo had a sign on the front door that they'd be closed for the next week. I wasn’t sure if this was because of the construction on Divisadero or because post-holiday business is just darn slow, and it's a smart business move to shutter for a few days. Regardless, I'm happy they're up and running now. This is quite literally the perfect place to get work done--oftentimes I actually feel guilty talking on the phone because the atmosphere is so conducive to quiet work and reading that it tends to have more of a library vibe than a happening coffee house vibe. So while you won’t hear the hippest live music here, there's tons of comfortable individual seating, lots of outlets, and great natural light. It's uber-clean, and the owner is incredibly friendly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> The lattes are great. Their espresso has smooth, sweet notes. And the drip coffee is strong--even though I have a coffeemaker at home, the houseguests I've had prefer to cruise over to Apollo for a cup. They have a small selection of breakfast pastries and scones, panini for lunch, and a great selection of snacks like \u003ca href=\"http://www.larabar.com/\">Lara Bars\u003c/a>, \u003ca href=\"http://www.dagobachocolate.com/\">Dagoba\u003c/a> chocolate, mini brownies, and mini truffles. In fact, I noticed a lot of options for the chocolate aficionado here, from chocolate bars to dark chocolate cupcakes. They sell beer and wine as well, although I think the hours at Apollo aren’t so conducive to this. When asked about the early hours, the owner commented that it's a much quieter part of Divisadero, and maybe in the summer they'll stay open a bit later. Until then, I'm sticking to the coffee, the quiet, and the chocolate. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Apollo Coffee\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n1064 Divisidero St. (between Turk and Golden Gate Blvd)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94115\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Mon.-Thurs. 8am-7pm; Fri.-Sat. 8am-6pm; Sun. 9am-6pm\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>Someone must close down the bar, but I am through volunteering for the position. This is not to say bourbon has lost its bloom, or that work days do not begin with brief foamy fantasies about the first cold beers to be cracked eight hours later. I can say (with a straight face) that serious carousing is an occupation for swollen wallets and spare time, and claim that, as of late, I have neither. I can rationalize moderation because I wake up very early and tire before last call the following morning. I can insist that going out is harder than staying in, especially when it's raining and there's work to do and Netflix in the mailbox. I can affect a jaded outlook, yawning that the sport of drinking doesn't hold the appeal it had ten years ago. I can label it a secondary activity, something I associate with games to watch, gigs to play, food to eat, and good conversations with friends. Big nights happen, yes, but usually on accident, I can say -- candidly, with no regrets. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Those are all parts of the problem (if embracing moderation can ever be considered one) but the real reason, the one that really has me avoiding bars and heading home early when I can't, is that these days, when I drink too much, my hangovers hit like \u003ca href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_MY3RtJUrD8\">Mike Tyson circa 1986\u003c/a>. After a few too many, I wake up stuffy, morose, disoriented, ugly, and sore. I don't ever get sick, but I forget details about where I went and who I saw. I don't have the energy to do the things that the day ahead demands, and my mood plummets correspondingly. When I was 20, I could shake off boozy sweats, dehydration, and body aches, and spring out of bed after five hours of sleep to bound around the house, read, study, and socialize -- all miraculously on an empty stomach. Now, on those increasingly infrequent occasions where I over-indulge, I am discovering that I desperately require food -- breakfast maybe, or at least a snack of heroic proportions -- to piece myself together again.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Restorative noshing is welcome immediately after the party, or hours later, upon waking. The fact that I've only really realized this in the latter half of my twenties probably says something about my learning curve in general. If hunger pangs strike on the way home from the bar, possibilities are limited. Most restaurants aren't open. Chorizo tacos from \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/el-farolito-san-francisco-2\">El Farolito\u003c/a> and \u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps/place?hl=en&client=safari&rls=en&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=la+vallarta+sf&fb=1&gl=us&hq=la+vallarta&hnear=sf&cid=3981052901989885288\">Taqueria Vallarta\u003c/a> hit the spot. I haven't been, but \u003ca href=\"http://myizakaya.com/\">Nombe\u003c/a>, the new-ish izakaya on Mission St., has a late-night take-out window selling ramen to revelers staggering home. Sometimes, an attack on the refrigerator is the best and cheapest recourse. I went out on Saturday night and stayed out -- gasp -- until 1 a.m. When I came home I realized nearly everything in the house that I felt like eating was being saved for a dinner with my dad the following night -- sausage for pizza, bread for croutons, and olives. Instead, I microwaved some leftover white rice and added salt and a few squirts of srirachi sauce. Something with srirachi sauce usually does the trick. Lately, I've also been especially enjoying plain corn tortillas roasted on a cast-iron skillet and then topped with srirachi and a few creamy squiggles of \u003ca href=\"http://www.thekitchn.com/thekitchn/condiments-dressings/what-is-kewpie-mayonnaise-044639\">Kewpie mayonnaise\u003c/a>. I do two at a time, folded over like miniature fusion-y quesadillas, and eat them fast, usually burning my mouth in the process. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For those disinclined to wallow in gastronomic gutters, there is also, of course, street food -- bacon dogs, tamales, and the ever-growing assortment of heavily Twittered carts that tend to pop up on corners outside the doors of drinking establishments. As good as some of this stuff is (I'm thinking about you, gumbo guy), such trendy offerings come with long lines, and waiting fifteen minutes for a grilled flatbread behind a bunch of ravenous drunk people is rarely an attractive option when you're ravenous and drunk yourself. Fifteen minutes? I could be home by then, putting the final drizzle of srirachi on a corn tortilla, wearing the sweats, watching a little Larry David before passing out with a smile on my face. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/tortilla-srirachi-mayo500.jpg\" alt=\"tortilla with srirachi and Kewpie mayonnaise\" title=\"tortilla with srirachi and Kewpie mayonnaise\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9815\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Tortilla with srirachi and Kewpie mayonnaise. You won't see this in Saveur.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Alcohol stirs the strangest cravings the morning after. Some people wake up and go for eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage, and other conventional breakfast-y things. There is scientific logic to this. Eggs contain cysteine, a substance that breaks down the hangover-causing toxin acetaldehyde in the liver. Fruit juice actually hastens the rate at which a body gets ride of toxins like those generated by alcohol metabolism. Bananas, also common at breakfast, replace potassium lost to alcohol's diuretic tendencies. Fried or stupendously unhealthy foods appeal because sufferers suspect that grease will soothe their irritated stomach linings -- nevermind the fact that it's more likely to have the opposite effect. Psychology is powerful, however, especially the morning after losing brain cells, and I think that sometimes people condition themselves to crave the very things that will hurt them more. It's, in the long run, a fairly harmless sort of self-loathing -- sitting down to a plate of battered chicken, savoring the punishment disguised as a cure, letting your over-taxed body pay the tab your inconsiderate brain racked up. Some treat their morning afflictions like illness and self-medicate with more austere feasts -- steamed vegetables, spicy broths, and so on. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Every year, usually when New Year's Eve approaches, publications feel it necessary to run stories about hangovers and how to avoid them. Typically, these pieces involve interviews with bartenders, operating under the assumption that these callous dispensers of liquid poison know something about recovery too. On Christmas Eve, Grub Street \u003ca href=\"http://sanfrancisco.grubstreet.com/2009/12/sf_bartenders_share_their_favo.html\">consulted\u003c/a> some mixologists on the subject, and the responses were fairly telegraphed, with most suggesting hair of the dog remedies. Likewise, a Dec. 31 Examiner article \u003ca href=\"http://www.sfexaminer.com/entertainment/Handy-cures-for-holiday-hangovers-80371202.html\">expanded\u003c/a> the sample group and saw similar results, with respondents largely sticking to the guns articulated by their respective professions. The bartender recommended more booze. The personal trainer advocated drinking plenty of water and working out. The doctor condemned drinking too much in the first place. The acupuncturist suggested acupuncture. I'm not sure if I have a profession to stick to, but I have done both drinking and thinking in my day, and for that reason, I hesitate to press any so-called \"cures\" on others. Hangovers are, after all, very personal things. I will however share a few meals that I have managed to enjoy under the bleariest of circumstances:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Indian buffet.\u003c/strong> This goes back to a summer home from college. The morning after a long night, some friends and I went to an Indian restaurant attached to a worn motel. After three plates of chicken korma, saag paneer, and samosas, I felt well enough to spend the rest of the day at the zoo. I'm not sure if there's a San Francisco equivalent, but once I woke up in San Jose, went to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/new-indian-cuisine-san-jose#hrid:4hAyRH5dgltohBCagstFaA/src:search/query:buffet%20indian\">New Indian Cuisine\u003c/a>, and came away again convinced that naan is merely Advil slicked with ghee.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>A breaded chicken torta with chipotles\u003c/strong> from \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/la-torta-gorda-san-francisco\">La Torta Gorda\u003c/a>. I'm always momentarily tempted to get a junior, but the full is the way to go. Go home, eat half, and put the remainder in the fridge. Get some covers and stretch out on the couch. Watch basketball or half a season of a television show you've already seen. Look up at the clock. It's nearly dinner-time. Good thing you have a brick-sized piece of torta to eat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>A pickle, dill.\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Soup.\u003c/strong> I'm a soup person -- that could be a post in and of itself -- but it doesn't help my hangovers unless it's French onion from \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/ti-couz-san-francisco\">Ti Couz\u003c/a>, with some seafood salad and maybe a mushroom crepe on the side. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Chicken fingers and waffle fries with ranch dressing\u003c/strong> from \u003ca href=\"http://www.phatphillys.com/\">Phat Philly\u003c/a>. This is actually my girlfriend's thing. She's yelling at me from the other room to include it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.johncampbells.com/\">John Campbell's Irish Bakery\u003c/a>. Once, a few years ago, I was staying out at my dad's in the Richmond District -- dog-sitting, house sitting, and cable-watching -- and I woke up after a night out with a painkiller-resistant headache, a sour hollow stomach, and my dad's whippet dashing around the bed in frantic circles. I had hopped off the 38 at 1:30 a.m. and decided to grab one more at the Blarney Stone. Pulling on a coat, leashing the dog, and stepping out into the stabbing mist, I walked back to the scene of the crime and had a piece of pizza (it might have been called \"focaccia\") from John Campbell's, the fantastic bakery next door to the 'Stone. This was like nothing you'd see at A16, Flour + Water, or even Pizza Hut. There was turkey or ham in cubes, peppers and onions, maybe. A white sauce and cheese, I want to say. The dog was whimpering, begging for a taste. I can't recall the details, but the slice (a slab, really) was like a combination of stew and scone, or an upside-down pot pie even -- bread-y, bland, and bad, at least as far as pizza goes. Yet held to a different standard -- alcohol absorption -- it delivered -- nearly as well as a corn tortilla with hot sauce and mayo.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Someone must close down the bar, but I am through volunteering for the position. This is not to say bourbon has lost its bloom, or that work days do not begin with brief foamy fantasies about the first cold beers to be cracked eight hours later. I can say (with a straight face) that serious carousing is an occupation for swollen wallets and spare time, and claim that, as of late, I have neither. I can rationalize moderation because I wake up very early and tire before last call the following morning. I can insist that going out is harder than staying in, especially when it's raining and there's work to do and Netflix in the mailbox. I can affect a jaded outlook, yawning that the sport of drinking doesn't hold the appeal it had ten years ago. I can label it a secondary activity, something I associate with games to watch, gigs to play, food to eat, and good conversations with friends. Big nights happen, yes, but usually on accident, I can say -- candidly, with no regrets. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Those are all parts of the problem (if embracing moderation can ever be considered one) but the real reason, the one that really has me avoiding bars and heading home early when I can't, is that these days, when I drink too much, my hangovers hit like \u003ca href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_MY3RtJUrD8\">Mike Tyson circa 1986\u003c/a>. After a few too many, I wake up stuffy, morose, disoriented, ugly, and sore. I don't ever get sick, but I forget details about where I went and who I saw. I don't have the energy to do the things that the day ahead demands, and my mood plummets correspondingly. When I was 20, I could shake off boozy sweats, dehydration, and body aches, and spring out of bed after five hours of sleep to bound around the house, read, study, and socialize -- all miraculously on an empty stomach. Now, on those increasingly infrequent occasions where I over-indulge, I am discovering that I desperately require food -- breakfast maybe, or at least a snack of heroic proportions -- to piece myself together again.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Restorative noshing is welcome immediately after the party, or hours later, upon waking. The fact that I've only really realized this in the latter half of my twenties probably says something about my learning curve in general. If hunger pangs strike on the way home from the bar, possibilities are limited. Most restaurants aren't open. Chorizo tacos from \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/el-farolito-san-francisco-2\">El Farolito\u003c/a> and \u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps/place?hl=en&client=safari&rls=en&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=la+vallarta+sf&fb=1&gl=us&hq=la+vallarta&hnear=sf&cid=3981052901989885288\">Taqueria Vallarta\u003c/a> hit the spot. I haven't been, but \u003ca href=\"http://myizakaya.com/\">Nombe\u003c/a>, the new-ish izakaya on Mission St., has a late-night take-out window selling ramen to revelers staggering home. Sometimes, an attack on the refrigerator is the best and cheapest recourse. I went out on Saturday night and stayed out -- gasp -- until 1 a.m. When I came home I realized nearly everything in the house that I felt like eating was being saved for a dinner with my dad the following night -- sausage for pizza, bread for croutons, and olives. Instead, I microwaved some leftover white rice and added salt and a few squirts of srirachi sauce. Something with srirachi sauce usually does the trick. Lately, I've also been especially enjoying plain corn tortillas roasted on a cast-iron skillet and then topped with srirachi and a few creamy squiggles of \u003ca href=\"http://www.thekitchn.com/thekitchn/condiments-dressings/what-is-kewpie-mayonnaise-044639\">Kewpie mayonnaise\u003c/a>. I do two at a time, folded over like miniature fusion-y quesadillas, and eat them fast, usually burning my mouth in the process. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For those disinclined to wallow in gastronomic gutters, there is also, of course, street food -- bacon dogs, tamales, and the ever-growing assortment of heavily Twittered carts that tend to pop up on corners outside the doors of drinking establishments. As good as some of this stuff is (I'm thinking about you, gumbo guy), such trendy offerings come with long lines, and waiting fifteen minutes for a grilled flatbread behind a bunch of ravenous drunk people is rarely an attractive option when you're ravenous and drunk yourself. Fifteen minutes? I could be home by then, putting the final drizzle of srirachi on a corn tortilla, wearing the sweats, watching a little Larry David before passing out with a smile on my face. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/tortilla-srirachi-mayo500.jpg\" alt=\"tortilla with srirachi and Kewpie mayonnaise\" title=\"tortilla with srirachi and Kewpie mayonnaise\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9815\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Tortilla with srirachi and Kewpie mayonnaise. You won't see this in Saveur.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Alcohol stirs the strangest cravings the morning after. Some people wake up and go for eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage, and other conventional breakfast-y things. There is scientific logic to this. Eggs contain cysteine, a substance that breaks down the hangover-causing toxin acetaldehyde in the liver. Fruit juice actually hastens the rate at which a body gets ride of toxins like those generated by alcohol metabolism. Bananas, also common at breakfast, replace potassium lost to alcohol's diuretic tendencies. Fried or stupendously unhealthy foods appeal because sufferers suspect that grease will soothe their irritated stomach linings -- nevermind the fact that it's more likely to have the opposite effect. Psychology is powerful, however, especially the morning after losing brain cells, and I think that sometimes people condition themselves to crave the very things that will hurt them more. It's, in the long run, a fairly harmless sort of self-loathing -- sitting down to a plate of battered chicken, savoring the punishment disguised as a cure, letting your over-taxed body pay the tab your inconsiderate brain racked up. Some treat their morning afflictions like illness and self-medicate with more austere feasts -- steamed vegetables, spicy broths, and so on. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Every year, usually when New Year's Eve approaches, publications feel it necessary to run stories about hangovers and how to avoid them. Typically, these pieces involve interviews with bartenders, operating under the assumption that these callous dispensers of liquid poison know something about recovery too. On Christmas Eve, Grub Street \u003ca href=\"http://sanfrancisco.grubstreet.com/2009/12/sf_bartenders_share_their_favo.html\">consulted\u003c/a> some mixologists on the subject, and the responses were fairly telegraphed, with most suggesting hair of the dog remedies. Likewise, a Dec. 31 Examiner article \u003ca href=\"http://www.sfexaminer.com/entertainment/Handy-cures-for-holiday-hangovers-80371202.html\">expanded\u003c/a> the sample group and saw similar results, with respondents largely sticking to the guns articulated by their respective professions. The bartender recommended more booze. The personal trainer advocated drinking plenty of water and working out. The doctor condemned drinking too much in the first place. The acupuncturist suggested acupuncture. I'm not sure if I have a profession to stick to, but I have done both drinking and thinking in my day, and for that reason, I hesitate to press any so-called \"cures\" on others. Hangovers are, after all, very personal things. I will however share a few meals that I have managed to enjoy under the bleariest of circumstances:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Indian buffet.\u003c/strong> This goes back to a summer home from college. The morning after a long night, some friends and I went to an Indian restaurant attached to a worn motel. After three plates of chicken korma, saag paneer, and samosas, I felt well enough to spend the rest of the day at the zoo. I'm not sure if there's a San Francisco equivalent, but once I woke up in San Jose, went to \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/new-indian-cuisine-san-jose#hrid:4hAyRH5dgltohBCagstFaA/src:search/query:buffet%20indian\">New Indian Cuisine\u003c/a>, and came away again convinced that naan is merely Advil slicked with ghee.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>A breaded chicken torta with chipotles\u003c/strong> from \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/la-torta-gorda-san-francisco\">La Torta Gorda\u003c/a>. I'm always momentarily tempted to get a junior, but the full is the way to go. Go home, eat half, and put the remainder in the fridge. Get some covers and stretch out on the couch. Watch basketball or half a season of a television show you've already seen. Look up at the clock. It's nearly dinner-time. Good thing you have a brick-sized piece of torta to eat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>A pickle, dill.\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Soup.\u003c/strong> I'm a soup person -- that could be a post in and of itself -- but it doesn't help my hangovers unless it's French onion from \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/ti-couz-san-francisco\">Ti Couz\u003c/a>, with some seafood salad and maybe a mushroom crepe on the side. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Chicken fingers and waffle fries with ranch dressing\u003c/strong> from \u003ca href=\"http://www.phatphillys.com/\">Phat Philly\u003c/a>. This is actually my girlfriend's thing. She's yelling at me from the other room to include it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.johncampbells.com/\">John Campbell's Irish Bakery\u003c/a>. Once, a few years ago, I was staying out at my dad's in the Richmond District -- dog-sitting, house sitting, and cable-watching -- and I woke up after a night out with a painkiller-resistant headache, a sour hollow stomach, and my dad's whippet dashing around the bed in frantic circles. I had hopped off the 38 at 1:30 a.m. and decided to grab one more at the Blarney Stone. Pulling on a coat, leashing the dog, and stepping out into the stabbing mist, I walked back to the scene of the crime and had a piece of pizza (it might have been called \"focaccia\") from John Campbell's, the fantastic bakery next door to the 'Stone. This was like nothing you'd see at A16, Flour + Water, or even Pizza Hut. There was turkey or ham in cubes, peppers and onions, maybe. A white sauce and cheese, I want to say. The dog was whimpering, begging for a taste. I can't recall the details, but the slice (a slab, really) was like a combination of stew and scone, or an upside-down pot pie even -- bread-y, bland, and bad, at least as far as pizza goes. Yet held to a different standard -- alcohol absorption -- it delivered -- nearly as well as a corn tortilla with hot sauce and mayo.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>When you move to the Mission District from somewhere far away, you learn about taquerias and what they offer. You realize that tacos are special snacks, plebian tapas, almost, and a topic worthy of a conversation all their own. Platters of grilled meat with fluffy rice, puddles of beans, negligible watery salads, and stacks of tortillas are for dads and adolescent boys. Quesadillas are tempting because their fully suiza'd incarnations incorporate a burrito's most appealing elements -- the meats, the flag-hued trifecta of guacamole, salsa, and sour cream, and so on -- but every time you try to down one, you sweat cheese and suffer cramps. Nachos are a little silly, masochistic, a nutritional mockery; they belong in sports bars, where they should never be ordered. Portable, tasty, and immensely filling, burritos are your thing. Ohio had burritos too. So did Kentucky. But, until California-style wraps invaded the fast food lexicon, those were vile orange cheddar-and-ground beef roll-ups populating the refrigerated cases of gas stations and college dining hall steam tables. You never ate them before, but now, having thrown down new roots in America's burrito basket you try many variations on this startling new discovery, too many, in fact, your stomach wearily tells you again and again, as you retire to bed at least two or three nights a week with a baby-sized slug of meat, beans, rice, and tortilla burrowed into your gut. After a few months of playing the field, following recommendations and wandering blindly into the taquerias with the catchiest names, you home in on the burritos you like best. For a time, with each salsa-flecked triumph, you have a new favorite destination. With like-minded connoisseurs, you debate the merits of various establishments' interpretations of the form. Out-of-town visitors always want to know where to find a good burrito. By the time they get around to asking you, you're wiser, over the course of weeks and months, a true aficionado. You come to understand that, while there are many very good burritos in your neighborhood, seeking out the perfect specimen is a impossible undertaking.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The best taquerias are frequently inconsistent. Even at the top of the heap, most earn their stripes for doing a specific few things really well -- a sublime meat or two, expertly seasoned and stewed or grilled, a special salsa, perhaps, or a unique portioning and folding method permitting an ideal and harmonious mix of wet, dry, spicy, rich, and acidic substances within. You never find a burrito that synthesizes all the traits you hold dear, but you do learn, for example, that \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/el-metate-san-francisco\">El Metate\u003c/a>'s burritos are smaller than most you see in the Mission, a dependable, yet mildly sporty sedan navigating streets dominated by cumbersome trucks. Devotees tear up like Paula Abdul over the taqueria's sensational pork in chile verde. El Metate's burrito-crafters refrain from toasting the outsides of burritos prior to wrapping them in foil, but their innards more than compensate. If you ask at the right time, you might get your mitts on a bag of confetti-colored flour tortilla chips and a cup of extra-spicy salsa. A late-night hotspot for hungry drunks, \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/el-farolito-san-francisco-2\">El Farolito\u003c/a> toasts admirably. Its strongest filling is boiled chicken, sublime moist shreds that could have been birthed in a cauldron of noodle soup. The salsa bar at Farolito is puny, but the green, as it's invariably called, puts it on par with the grand spreads you see at frillier taquerias – a creamy, avocado-slicked puree you want to slip into an i.v. after dipping a chip or two. \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/taqueria-el-castillito-san-francisco-2\">El Castillito\u003c/a> really toasts, more thoroughly than Farolito, until the shell of a burrito is flaky and singed, almost like a shawarma. Re-fried beans, often eschewed, excel here; they act as edible glue, fusing with melted cheese to unite the more flavorful components. \u003ca href=\"http://www.papalote-sf.com/\">Papalote\u003c/a> has a rust-colored salsa so smooth and unctuous you can easily convince yourself it contains cream and butter. Irrigate the interior of your fresh shrimp burrito, and take home a few jars to eat ice cream.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Don't get me wrong though. I'm not telling you where to go for a burrito. Anyone you meet out here can tell you where to find one -- if you don't already know by now. As local media has noted over the last few years, there are numerous websites dedicated to the enjoyment and evaluation of burritos around town. I'm thinking primarily of the diligent and judicious \u003ca href=\"http://www.burritoeater.com/main.php\">Burrito Eater\u003c/a>. Similar operations drop knowledge in other California cities. For instance, my friend Crawford runs \u003ca href=\"http://drburrito.com/mission/\">Dr. Burrito\u003c/a> in San Diego, and regularly schools ignorant folks on his terrain's regional particulars. These are experts. Lay-people obsessed with finding the perfect burrito -- again, a preposterous endeavor -- usually possess too much free time, and probably log an unhealthy amount of time crafting witty Yelp reviews. The taquerias I patronize most are the ones closest to my house or the bar. The idea of going out of your way for a six-dollar meal you'll eat in ten minutes contradicts the essence of a burrito. Nonetheless, if you engage the debate, you come to the conclusion that most taquerias you end up liking a lot are better at something than most others. When you go out for a burrito, you head to a destination with areas of strength that suit your predisposition at that moment. In this sense, you're re-visiting an experience, like putting on a beloved record or watching re-runs. I would like to listen to the White Album again. I would like to see Season Three of The Wire once more. I would like a fish burrito with no sour cream from El Metate. Dialing in a go-to combination from a reliable purveyor is the only recourse a dedicated burrito-hound has, though daydreams about the impossible persist -- the fantasy of a mutant hybrid burrito boasting the best traits of a dozen of the neighborhood's best. A garrulous housemate once eloquently outlined the concept: \u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>\"In a perfect world I would buzz around the Mission with a rocket pack on my back, collecting my favorite meats from each taqueria. And I would fold all the juicy delights into a giant burrito, probably the size of a heavy bag for boxing. I would eat some of the burrito, and then sit it up on the couch next to me, like a friend.\"\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>What if you could take El Metate's chile verde pork, squeeze it into an El Farolito-sized shell, take it to Castelito for toasting, and then crown it with dollops of Papalote's salsa? Shortly after the exchange, I visited \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/taqueria-san-francisco-san-francisco\">Taqueria San Francisco\u003c/a> on 24th St., near York –- incidentally a Burrito Eater favorite -- and couldn't, for the life of me, decide between ordering mine with chile relleno or chicken. In a moment of loopy clarity, I ordered them both in one burrito. The guy at the counter kind of smiled faintly. Ten minutes later, I was back at the house, hauling something silver and as heavy as a brick out of a thin plastic bag. It proved to be one of the most exciting burritos I have ever attacked. The doughy batter surrounding the hacked-up pepper had melted into the foundation of beans and rice. The juicy stewed chicken found a ready foil in the acidic salsa and the pepper's mild heat. Chunks of buttery avocado studded the interior. I had skipped the sour cream, but not the cheese, so this burrito was queso-heavy, a twisted, solid mass from the chile relleno running down the middle like a spine, and another layer melted against the inside of the tortilla. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I have not revisited this particular adventure, though other mildly outside-the-box burrito variations followed suit. Two years ago, upon recovering from a two-day bout with a stomach virus, slogging through a final cautionary day of bread and jam, and, on the fourth day, enjoying 2.5 hours of taxing pick-up basketball, I limped into El Farolito and ordered a super chicken burrito with extra meat, rationalizing that the extra calories would do me good. When I sliced the massive cylinder down the middle and turned the halves to expose the cross-section, it looked as if a turducken had exploded inside the glittering foil sheath. I ate 2/3 of it, and immediately collapsed for an hour, with the lights dimmed in my room, listening to \u003ca href=\"http://www.sibyllebaier.com/home.html\">Sibylle Baier\u003c/a> and cursing myself. Incidentally, a frugal friend with a serious appetite has a good technique for extending the sustaining power of a burrito. He pulls off the foil, cuts a surgically precise slit lengthwise across the side without folds, and scoops out the \"guts\" with chips. Then he fills the hollowed middle with pico de gallo, packs the tortilla back together into a semblance of its original shape, and sucks it down.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/burrito-closeup.jpg\" alt=\"burrito\" title=\"burrito\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9623\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Taqueria Guadalajara's steak and shrimp burrito, regular\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Just last week, I was standing, cold and somewhat frazzled in the dining room of \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/taqueria-guadalajara-san-francisco-2\">Taqueria Guadalajara\u003c/a>, another 24th Street establishment. I hadn't had a burrito in a month, and was trying to decide what to order. I thought about the relleno-chicken mash-up I'd downed three years earlier, how it had awakened burrito 'buds I never knew existed. I knew most taquerias didn't mind letting patrons double up on fillings, but Guadalajara actually has a \"mixto\" option clearly listed on the bright, broad menu positioned above the counter. I ordered a burrito with steak and grilled shrimp. The result –- salty and chewy with a hint of the shellfish's brine peeking through the mix –- was good but not as balanced and magical as the relleno-chicken combination. I wondered if two flavors over-crowded in most arrangements, if a burrito was best served by a subtle backing section supporting a dominant soloist –- say, soothing boiled chicken, or bold, zesty carnitas -- not a duet. Still, I wondered which combinations would work best. Tripe and carnitas? Steak and chicken?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As I dived again and again into my selection, I wondered: What might up the ante, and take the burrito further out into the void while remaining respectful? Stupid wrap franchises have ruined fusion burritos with their jasmine rice-and-curry concoctions to be sure, but what if fried chicken replaced boiled chicken in an otherwise straightforward preparation? Or if thin-shaved lamb from Old Jerusalem's shawarma spits cozied up to green salsa and re-fried beans? A shrimp rolled out of the burrito and onto my lap. I ate it. The possibilities were as endless as the half-eaten tube before me.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>When you move to the Mission District from somewhere far away, you learn about taquerias and what they offer. You realize that tacos are special snacks, plebian tapas, almost, and a topic worthy of a conversation all their own. Platters of grilled meat with fluffy rice, puddles of beans, negligible watery salads, and stacks of tortillas are for dads and adolescent boys. Quesadillas are tempting because their fully suiza'd incarnations incorporate a burrito's most appealing elements -- the meats, the flag-hued trifecta of guacamole, salsa, and sour cream, and so on -- but every time you try to down one, you sweat cheese and suffer cramps. Nachos are a little silly, masochistic, a nutritional mockery; they belong in sports bars, where they should never be ordered. Portable, tasty, and immensely filling, burritos are your thing. Ohio had burritos too. So did Kentucky. But, until California-style wraps invaded the fast food lexicon, those were vile orange cheddar-and-ground beef roll-ups populating the refrigerated cases of gas stations and college dining hall steam tables. You never ate them before, but now, having thrown down new roots in America's burrito basket you try many variations on this startling new discovery, too many, in fact, your stomach wearily tells you again and again, as you retire to bed at least two or three nights a week with a baby-sized slug of meat, beans, rice, and tortilla burrowed into your gut. After a few months of playing the field, following recommendations and wandering blindly into the taquerias with the catchiest names, you home in on the burritos you like best. For a time, with each salsa-flecked triumph, you have a new favorite destination. With like-minded connoisseurs, you debate the merits of various establishments' interpretations of the form. Out-of-town visitors always want to know where to find a good burrito. By the time they get around to asking you, you're wiser, over the course of weeks and months, a true aficionado. You come to understand that, while there are many very good burritos in your neighborhood, seeking out the perfect specimen is a impossible undertaking.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The best taquerias are frequently inconsistent. Even at the top of the heap, most earn their stripes for doing a specific few things really well -- a sublime meat or two, expertly seasoned and stewed or grilled, a special salsa, perhaps, or a unique portioning and folding method permitting an ideal and harmonious mix of wet, dry, spicy, rich, and acidic substances within. You never find a burrito that synthesizes all the traits you hold dear, but you do learn, for example, that \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/el-metate-san-francisco\">El Metate\u003c/a>'s burritos are smaller than most you see in the Mission, a dependable, yet mildly sporty sedan navigating streets dominated by cumbersome trucks. Devotees tear up like Paula Abdul over the taqueria's sensational pork in chile verde. El Metate's burrito-crafters refrain from toasting the outsides of burritos prior to wrapping them in foil, but their innards more than compensate. If you ask at the right time, you might get your mitts on a bag of confetti-colored flour tortilla chips and a cup of extra-spicy salsa. A late-night hotspot for hungry drunks, \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/el-farolito-san-francisco-2\">El Farolito\u003c/a> toasts admirably. Its strongest filling is boiled chicken, sublime moist shreds that could have been birthed in a cauldron of noodle soup. The salsa bar at Farolito is puny, but the green, as it's invariably called, puts it on par with the grand spreads you see at frillier taquerias – a creamy, avocado-slicked puree you want to slip into an i.v. after dipping a chip or two. \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/taqueria-el-castillito-san-francisco-2\">El Castillito\u003c/a> really toasts, more thoroughly than Farolito, until the shell of a burrito is flaky and singed, almost like a shawarma. Re-fried beans, often eschewed, excel here; they act as edible glue, fusing with melted cheese to unite the more flavorful components. \u003ca href=\"http://www.papalote-sf.com/\">Papalote\u003c/a> has a rust-colored salsa so smooth and unctuous you can easily convince yourself it contains cream and butter. Irrigate the interior of your fresh shrimp burrito, and take home a few jars to eat ice cream.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Don't get me wrong though. I'm not telling you where to go for a burrito. Anyone you meet out here can tell you where to find one -- if you don't already know by now. As local media has noted over the last few years, there are numerous websites dedicated to the enjoyment and evaluation of burritos around town. I'm thinking primarily of the diligent and judicious \u003ca href=\"http://www.burritoeater.com/main.php\">Burrito Eater\u003c/a>. Similar operations drop knowledge in other California cities. For instance, my friend Crawford runs \u003ca href=\"http://drburrito.com/mission/\">Dr. Burrito\u003c/a> in San Diego, and regularly schools ignorant folks on his terrain's regional particulars. These are experts. Lay-people obsessed with finding the perfect burrito -- again, a preposterous endeavor -- usually possess too much free time, and probably log an unhealthy amount of time crafting witty Yelp reviews. The taquerias I patronize most are the ones closest to my house or the bar. The idea of going out of your way for a six-dollar meal you'll eat in ten minutes contradicts the essence of a burrito. Nonetheless, if you engage the debate, you come to the conclusion that most taquerias you end up liking a lot are better at something than most others. When you go out for a burrito, you head to a destination with areas of strength that suit your predisposition at that moment. In this sense, you're re-visiting an experience, like putting on a beloved record or watching re-runs. I would like to listen to the White Album again. I would like to see Season Three of The Wire once more. I would like a fish burrito with no sour cream from El Metate. Dialing in a go-to combination from a reliable purveyor is the only recourse a dedicated burrito-hound has, though daydreams about the impossible persist -- the fantasy of a mutant hybrid burrito boasting the best traits of a dozen of the neighborhood's best. A garrulous housemate once eloquently outlined the concept: \u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>\"In a perfect world I would buzz around the Mission with a rocket pack on my back, collecting my favorite meats from each taqueria. And I would fold all the juicy delights into a giant burrito, probably the size of a heavy bag for boxing. I would eat some of the burrito, and then sit it up on the couch next to me, like a friend.\"\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>What if you could take El Metate's chile verde pork, squeeze it into an El Farolito-sized shell, take it to Castelito for toasting, and then crown it with dollops of Papalote's salsa? Shortly after the exchange, I visited \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/taqueria-san-francisco-san-francisco\">Taqueria San Francisco\u003c/a> on 24th St., near York –- incidentally a Burrito Eater favorite -- and couldn't, for the life of me, decide between ordering mine with chile relleno or chicken. In a moment of loopy clarity, I ordered them both in one burrito. The guy at the counter kind of smiled faintly. Ten minutes later, I was back at the house, hauling something silver and as heavy as a brick out of a thin plastic bag. It proved to be one of the most exciting burritos I have ever attacked. The doughy batter surrounding the hacked-up pepper had melted into the foundation of beans and rice. The juicy stewed chicken found a ready foil in the acidic salsa and the pepper's mild heat. Chunks of buttery avocado studded the interior. I had skipped the sour cream, but not the cheese, so this burrito was queso-heavy, a twisted, solid mass from the chile relleno running down the middle like a spine, and another layer melted against the inside of the tortilla. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I have not revisited this particular adventure, though other mildly outside-the-box burrito variations followed suit. Two years ago, upon recovering from a two-day bout with a stomach virus, slogging through a final cautionary day of bread and jam, and, on the fourth day, enjoying 2.5 hours of taxing pick-up basketball, I limped into El Farolito and ordered a super chicken burrito with extra meat, rationalizing that the extra calories would do me good. When I sliced the massive cylinder down the middle and turned the halves to expose the cross-section, it looked as if a turducken had exploded inside the glittering foil sheath. I ate 2/3 of it, and immediately collapsed for an hour, with the lights dimmed in my room, listening to \u003ca href=\"http://www.sibyllebaier.com/home.html\">Sibylle Baier\u003c/a> and cursing myself. Incidentally, a frugal friend with a serious appetite has a good technique for extending the sustaining power of a burrito. He pulls off the foil, cuts a surgically precise slit lengthwise across the side without folds, and scoops out the \"guts\" with chips. Then he fills the hollowed middle with pico de gallo, packs the tortilla back together into a semblance of its original shape, and sucks it down.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As I dived again and again into my selection, I wondered: What might up the ante, and take the burrito further out into the void while remaining respectful? Stupid wrap franchises have ruined fusion burritos with their jasmine rice-and-curry concoctions to be sure, but what if fried chicken replaced boiled chicken in an otherwise straightforward preparation? Or if thin-shaved lamb from Old Jerusalem's shawarma spits cozied up to green salsa and re-fried beans? A shrimp rolled out of the burrito and onto my lap. I ate it. The possibilities were as endless as the half-eaten tube before me.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "Saying Goodbye, Sol Food Style",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/solfood.jpg\" alt=\"Sol Food- Puerto Rican food done right\" title=\"Sol Food- Puerto Rican food done right\" width=\"500\" height=\"500\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9611\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>San Rafael's Sol Food: Puerto Rican food done right\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By the time this post is published, I will have packed up a 14-food U-haul, probably strained my lower back, and sweated up and down five flights of stairs (no mom, there's no elevator) as I schlep my life's belongings into a little apartment in Alamo Square Park. I'm unspeakably excited about moving from San Rafael to the city; truthfully, this was all supposed to happen a year ago. But you know how things don't always go as planned. So as folks were busy making New Years resolutions and goals for the coming year ahead, I've been taking a moment to reflect on living in Marin and what I'll miss. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now there's a big part of me that feels like this list is quite small. I'll be honest: I haven't been the most vocal member of Marin's fan club. In fact, I never even joined. Socially, I'm generally the youngest one at any given location by a good twenty years. I'm not raising kids, and I'm in a pretty darn low tax bracket so that makes me the exception. And heck, I often like to eat dinner after 9 p.m. Suffice it to say, I've learned to eat earlier. Not only can you not get a decent burger after the sun sets, you can barely get a gallon of milk or sack of flour. The place shuts down. However, San Rafael has a lot going for it, too. I loved getting to know all of the hiking trails with my mom's two dogs. West Marin is a quick, awesome getaway where life feels slower and somehow more conscious and deliberate. It's generally easy to park in Marin, I love my consignment store, and can't get enough of the Fairfax Scoop in the summers. And of course, you can get the best Puerto Rican food in the Bay Area. I'll miss all of those things, especially the latter. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you haven't been to Sol Food, it's owned by Sol Hernandez, an enterprising San Rafael native who decided to bring Puerto Rican food to Marin. She lived on the island for quite awhile with her boyfriend and his mother and spent her free time learning how to cook the local dishes. The original Sol Food is a tiny little outpost on the corner of 4th and Lincoln in San Rafael. There aren't any formal indoor tables although there are stools by the window and up by the counter. When I first started hitting up the authentic eatery, I could just stroll in, order, and be on my way. Now I rarely go to this location because it's always obscenely crowded, and I can usually find seating at the other location right away. Locals differentiate between the two in size, calling the original location on 4th Street \"the small one\" and the newer location on Lincoln Avenue \"the big one.\" \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Regardless of which one you choose, Sol has successfully created two restaurant spaces that look and feel like Puerto Rico: colorful shutters and chairs, green plantains holding down stacks of napkins, and big leafy plants gracing every inch of usable counter space. Loud, lively music streams throughout the bustling cafe, and one of the things I love the most are the communal tables (at the larger location). Here, you may be seated next to a teacher grading papers, an older man reading the paper, gossipy college students, and tattoo artists from down the street. There aren't a lot of places around Marin where young and old, conservative and raucous, come together and chat over pink beans and rice. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/signaturesolfood.jpg\" alt=\"Sol Food housemade hot sauce and decorative shuttered interior\" title=\"Sol Food housemade hot sauce and decorative shuttered interior\" width=\"500\" height=\"461\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9613\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Two of Sol Food's signatures: their infamous housemade hot sauce and decorative shuttered interior\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now, the food: Everything on the menu is delicious, from the Maduros (sweet fried yellow plantains) to the Bistec or Cubano sandwiches. I was a vegetarian for the first few years that I lived in San Rafael and I'd come to Sol Food often to get a side of beans. It's the best deal in town, and still my go-to meal when I'm in a hurry or want a light lunch. For a mere $3.95, you get a generous portion of pink beans, half an avocado, and a plantain of your choosing. It's delicious, it's cheap, and it's made with local and organic ingredients. Can't beat that. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/polloalhorno.jpg\" alt=\"Pollo Al Horno\" title=\"Pollo Al Horno\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9612\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>My favorite Sol Food dish, Pollo Al Horno\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Today though, I generally rely on the Pollo Al Horno: boneless, skinless organic chicken thighs marinated with oregano and lots of garlic. It's served with an organic salad, plantains, and rice and beans. If someone could teach me how to make chicken this juicy and flavorful, I'm not sure I'd eat anything else. Ever again. Their daily specials are something to organize your week around (check online for information). Mondays are my day of choice with the Arroz Con Picadillo, seasoned ground beef over rice served with beans, fresh avocado, fried plantain, and greens. Picadillo is a traditional dish in many Latin American countries and is often served with rice or used as a filling in tacos or empanadas. It sounds basic--kind of like you could whip it up at home. But you can't. I assure you. The beef is spicy and has a kick of vinegar, garlic and onion. Head over on a Monday and you can see what I mean. Order a Fizzie Lizzie, their Cafe Helado (sweetened iced espresso with milk served in a mason jar), or a coconut water to wash it all down. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So while I can't wait to live in a neighborhood where I can get a slice of pizza into the wee hours and where there will be more than two other people my age walking down the street (I'm kidding...sort of), I'm grateful that San Rafael's just a skip away. My mom lives here, so I'll come back to hike with her dogs, throw in load of laundry every now and then, catch up on Dexter, and get my fill of pink beans and rice. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.solfoodrestaurant.com/\">Sol Food Restaurant\u003c/a> (Small One/Original)\u003cbr>\n732 4th Street\u003cbr>\nSan Rafael, CA 94901\u003cbr>\n(415) 451-4765\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours\u003c/strong>: Sun.-Thurs. 7am-12am; Fri. 7am-2am; Sat. 8am-2am\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.solfoodrestaurant.com/\">Sol Food Restaurant\u003c/a> (Big One)\u003cbr>\n901 Lincoln Avenue\u003cbr>\nSan Rafael, CA 94901\u003cbr>\n(415) 451-4765 (same number as above)\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Daily from 11am-10pm\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "If you haven't been to Sol Food, it's owned by Sol Hernandez, an enterprising San Rafael native who decided to bring Puerto Rican food to Marin. She lived on the island for quite awhile with her boyfriend and his mother and spent her free time learning how to cook the local dishes. ",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/solfood.jpg\" alt=\"Sol Food- Puerto Rican food done right\" title=\"Sol Food- Puerto Rican food done right\" width=\"500\" height=\"500\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9611\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>San Rafael's Sol Food: Puerto Rican food done right\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By the time this post is published, I will have packed up a 14-food U-haul, probably strained my lower back, and sweated up and down five flights of stairs (no mom, there's no elevator) as I schlep my life's belongings into a little apartment in Alamo Square Park. I'm unspeakably excited about moving from San Rafael to the city; truthfully, this was all supposed to happen a year ago. But you know how things don't always go as planned. So as folks were busy making New Years resolutions and goals for the coming year ahead, I've been taking a moment to reflect on living in Marin and what I'll miss. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now there's a big part of me that feels like this list is quite small. I'll be honest: I haven't been the most vocal member of Marin's fan club. In fact, I never even joined. Socially, I'm generally the youngest one at any given location by a good twenty years. I'm not raising kids, and I'm in a pretty darn low tax bracket so that makes me the exception. And heck, I often like to eat dinner after 9 p.m. Suffice it to say, I've learned to eat earlier. Not only can you not get a decent burger after the sun sets, you can barely get a gallon of milk or sack of flour. The place shuts down. However, San Rafael has a lot going for it, too. I loved getting to know all of the hiking trails with my mom's two dogs. West Marin is a quick, awesome getaway where life feels slower and somehow more conscious and deliberate. It's generally easy to park in Marin, I love my consignment store, and can't get enough of the Fairfax Scoop in the summers. And of course, you can get the best Puerto Rican food in the Bay Area. I'll miss all of those things, especially the latter. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you haven't been to Sol Food, it's owned by Sol Hernandez, an enterprising San Rafael native who decided to bring Puerto Rican food to Marin. She lived on the island for quite awhile with her boyfriend and his mother and spent her free time learning how to cook the local dishes. The original Sol Food is a tiny little outpost on the corner of 4th and Lincoln in San Rafael. There aren't any formal indoor tables although there are stools by the window and up by the counter. When I first started hitting up the authentic eatery, I could just stroll in, order, and be on my way. Now I rarely go to this location because it's always obscenely crowded, and I can usually find seating at the other location right away. Locals differentiate between the two in size, calling the original location on 4th Street \"the small one\" and the newer location on Lincoln Avenue \"the big one.\" \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Regardless of which one you choose, Sol has successfully created two restaurant spaces that look and feel like Puerto Rico: colorful shutters and chairs, green plantains holding down stacks of napkins, and big leafy plants gracing every inch of usable counter space. Loud, lively music streams throughout the bustling cafe, and one of the things I love the most are the communal tables (at the larger location). Here, you may be seated next to a teacher grading papers, an older man reading the paper, gossipy college students, and tattoo artists from down the street. There aren't a lot of places around Marin where young and old, conservative and raucous, come together and chat over pink beans and rice. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/signaturesolfood.jpg\" alt=\"Sol Food housemade hot sauce and decorative shuttered interior\" title=\"Sol Food housemade hot sauce and decorative shuttered interior\" width=\"500\" height=\"461\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9613\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Two of Sol Food's signatures: their infamous housemade hot sauce and decorative shuttered interior\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now, the food: Everything on the menu is delicious, from the Maduros (sweet fried yellow plantains) to the Bistec or Cubano sandwiches. I was a vegetarian for the first few years that I lived in San Rafael and I'd come to Sol Food often to get a side of beans. It's the best deal in town, and still my go-to meal when I'm in a hurry or want a light lunch. For a mere $3.95, you get a generous portion of pink beans, half an avocado, and a plantain of your choosing. It's delicious, it's cheap, and it's made with local and organic ingredients. Can't beat that. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/polloalhorno.jpg\" alt=\"Pollo Al Horno\" title=\"Pollo Al Horno\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9612\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>My favorite Sol Food dish, Pollo Al Horno\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Today though, I generally rely on the Pollo Al Horno: boneless, skinless organic chicken thighs marinated with oregano and lots of garlic. It's served with an organic salad, plantains, and rice and beans. If someone could teach me how to make chicken this juicy and flavorful, I'm not sure I'd eat anything else. Ever again. Their daily specials are something to organize your week around (check online for information). Mondays are my day of choice with the Arroz Con Picadillo, seasoned ground beef over rice served with beans, fresh avocado, fried plantain, and greens. Picadillo is a traditional dish in many Latin American countries and is often served with rice or used as a filling in tacos or empanadas. It sounds basic--kind of like you could whip it up at home. But you can't. I assure you. The beef is spicy and has a kick of vinegar, garlic and onion. Head over on a Monday and you can see what I mean. Order a Fizzie Lizzie, their Cafe Helado (sweetened iced espresso with milk served in a mason jar), or a coconut water to wash it all down. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So while I can't wait to live in a neighborhood where I can get a slice of pizza into the wee hours and where there will be more than two other people my age walking down the street (I'm kidding...sort of), I'm grateful that San Rafael's just a skip away. My mom lives here, so I'll come back to hike with her dogs, throw in load of laundry every now and then, catch up on Dexter, and get my fill of pink beans and rice. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.solfoodrestaurant.com/\">Sol Food Restaurant\u003c/a> (Small One/Original)\u003cbr>\n732 4th Street\u003cbr>\nSan Rafael, CA 94901\u003cbr>\n(415) 451-4765\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours\u003c/strong>: Sun.-Thurs. 7am-12am; Fri. 7am-2am; Sat. 8am-2am\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.solfoodrestaurant.com/\">Sol Food Restaurant\u003c/a> (Big One)\u003cbr>\n901 Lincoln Avenue\u003cbr>\nSan Rafael, CA 94901\u003cbr>\n(415) 451-4765 (same number as above)\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Hours:\u003c/strong> Daily from 11am-10pm\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Marisma Fish Tacos",
"title": "Marisma Fish Tacos",
"headTitle": "Bay Area Bites | KQED Food",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/Marisma2.jpg\" alt=\"Marisma\" title=\"Marisma\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9537\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I just took a vacation where the food was so uninspired and mediocre I wanted to weep each day over my plate. It was one of those \"family obligation\" vacations. You know the kind. Where a family member insists everyone spend their hard-earned vacation time and money at a destination where she/he wants to go. This family member insists you'll all love it, but you don't. You can't really complain out loud, because your beloved family member is so pleased that everyone is together in seeming harmony at their very special holiday spot, that you choke back your snarky comments. So while you sit miserably and snicker with your partner over the faults of the locale, the family member who convinced everyone to go is having the time of her life. Thankfully my very special persuasive family member doesn't read my BAB posts, so I can fully vent here.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now although I had never actually set foot on a cruise ship before December 26 of this year -- yes, that's the very special holiday location -- I always knew I never wanted to take a cruise. My information on this type of vacation was limited, mainly culled from Love Boat episodes and those awful Carnival Cruise Line commercials where everyone is partying down. But I am not a party-down-on-a-cruise-ship type of person. When I go on vacation, I like to explore places I've never visited or return to locations I love: ambling into small family restaurants and town squares, sitting on park benches while I watch locals meander by, romping with my kids, and investigating trails and roads previously unknown. I enjoy strolling through museums, watching local theater, wandering around national parks, and chatting with people I normally wouldn't meet. I also like to sometimes just quietly read my book.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So, let's just say that my vacation wasn't quite what I would have planned had I been persuasive enough to convince my family where to vacation this holiday season. I will discuss the food on my own private Love Boat in another post -- as I just can't muster up the energy to rehash it now -- but this week I want to talk about something amazing I ate while away. It's the beginning of a new year, and I have warm and fuzzy thoughts of being less negative (we'll see if I can carry this through to February), so I want to start off with a post about something delicious. Luckily, in the midst of all that cruise ship hubbub, we found one truly amazing meal, and of course it was on land.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/A-little-music-at-Marisa.jpg\" alt=\"A little music at Marisa\" title=\"A little music at Marisa\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9538\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After three days at sea, our enormous polluting ship sailed into beautiful Puerto Vallarta. While the rest of our group took off to the jungle to zip line for a couple of hours, my family and I taxied downtown to meet fellow Babber \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/author/kim-laidlaw/\">Kim Laidlaw\u003c/a> (who just happened to be staying an hour away) and her husband Keith (looking very tall and Scottish in the Mexican sun). Now although I usually research restaurants before I leave for vacation, I must admit that I failed to do so this time around. Maybe it was because our time in each port was limited to a few hours, or maybe it was due to my resentment at having to go on a cruise. Whatever the case, I was remiss. Luckily Kim is a much better woman than I. Before taking a taxi to meet us, she had researched the perfect place to eat fish tacos while visiting the beautiful \u003ca href=\"http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi1383006233/\">Night of the Iguana\u003c/a> location city of Puerto Vallarta. So while the other tourists made their way to the \u003ca href=\"http://www.bubbagump.com/locations/puerto_vallarta.html\">Bubba Gump Shrimp Company\u003c/a> (there really is one of those in every seaside tourist town) our group meandered about 8 blocks away from the crowded boardwalk and into the city where we found a small aluminum taco cart called Marisma Fish Taco (yes, I realize \"Marisma Fish Tacos\" sounds more catchy, but the sign left off that last \"s\").\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Marisma is the type of eating establishment I dream of finding while on vacation. With locals crowding the few stools available to taste the pleasures of its fried fish, smoked marlin and shrimp tacos, it's the real deal. Marisma, from what I understand with my limited Spanish, is the lovely woman who runs it all and I am witness to the fact that she and the other women who work there are masters at making Baja-style tacos. While orders are being taken and patrons eat at the counter or at the few tables set up on the neighboring sidewalk, one lovely young woman continually pulls handfuls of masa from a small mountain of the stuff and grills freshly-made tortillas while another woman, who I think is Marisma, cooks and runs the show behind her. And here they are...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cobject width=\"425\" height=\"344\">\u003cparam name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/Ry0j9MU0nAE&hl=en_US&fs=1&\">\u003cparam name=\"allowFullScreen\" value=\"true\">\u003cparam name=\"allowscriptaccess\" value=\"always\">\u003cembed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/Ry0j9MU0nAE&hl=en_US&fs=1&\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" allowscriptaccess=\"always\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" width=\"425\" height=\"344\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/object>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are salsas set up on the counter, red and green with just the right amount of spice, but the real show stopper is the chile and onion compote set in large glass goblets. This mixture -- picante, tangy, and sweet all at the same time -- is the perfect accompaniment to the fish taco, or really anything for that matter. I wish I had some to slather on my chicken at home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/smoked-marlin-taco.jpg\" alt=\"smoked marlin taco\" title=\"smoked marlin taco\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9540\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once you taste those tacos you know why, in a city full of food, people stand in line for their lunch here. I started with the smoked marlin taco, which is served in a gorgeous red sauce that wakes up the tongue and makes it dance. I then went on to the house specialty: fish tacos. These are, in essence, perfect. Dorado covered in the simplest of batters, fried until golden, crisp and beautiful and then set inside a tortilla fresh off the grill with a topping of crema and cabbage. After days of heavily sauced mediocrity on board the ship, my taste buds sighed in relief. I devoured the first taco in a few seconds, so then had to order another one, pacing myself so I could slowly enjoy the flavors. While listening to a man strum on the guitar nearby, I marveled at how such simple ingredients could coalesce to create the perfect taste.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/fish-taco.jpg\" alt=\"fish taco\" title=\"fish taco\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9539\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I chatted with the nice man beside me. He had grown up in Puerto Vallarta and ate at Marisma a few times a week. At 13 pesos a taco (about one U.S. dollar) it was a bargain for both tourists and locals alike. Kim and Keith treated my family to our feast, which came out to about $20 for the six of us, which included sodas. Thanks, Laidlaws!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After returning to our ship that evening, my family and I talked glowingly of our lunch that day. While tuxedoed waiters flitted about us, serving us a very forgettable meal on china plates, our thoughts were with those fish tacos. \u003cem>Yo sueño con Marisma Fish Taco\u003c/em>\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>\u003cbr>\nMarisma Fish Taco\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n320 Calle Naranjo\u003cbr>\nPuerto Vallarta\u003cbr>\nMexico. \u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/Marisma2.jpg\" alt=\"Marisma\" title=\"Marisma\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9537\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I just took a vacation where the food was so uninspired and mediocre I wanted to weep each day over my plate. It was one of those \"family obligation\" vacations. You know the kind. Where a family member insists everyone spend their hard-earned vacation time and money at a destination where she/he wants to go. This family member insists you'll all love it, but you don't. You can't really complain out loud, because your beloved family member is so pleased that everyone is together in seeming harmony at their very special holiday spot, that you choke back your snarky comments. So while you sit miserably and snicker with your partner over the faults of the locale, the family member who convinced everyone to go is having the time of her life. Thankfully my very special persuasive family member doesn't read my BAB posts, so I can fully vent here.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now although I had never actually set foot on a cruise ship before December 26 of this year -- yes, that's the very special holiday location -- I always knew I never wanted to take a cruise. My information on this type of vacation was limited, mainly culled from Love Boat episodes and those awful Carnival Cruise Line commercials where everyone is partying down. But I am not a party-down-on-a-cruise-ship type of person. When I go on vacation, I like to explore places I've never visited or return to locations I love: ambling into small family restaurants and town squares, sitting on park benches while I watch locals meander by, romping with my kids, and investigating trails and roads previously unknown. I enjoy strolling through museums, watching local theater, wandering around national parks, and chatting with people I normally wouldn't meet. I also like to sometimes just quietly read my book.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So, let's just say that my vacation wasn't quite what I would have planned had I been persuasive enough to convince my family where to vacation this holiday season. I will discuss the food on my own private Love Boat in another post -- as I just can't muster up the energy to rehash it now -- but this week I want to talk about something amazing I ate while away. It's the beginning of a new year, and I have warm and fuzzy thoughts of being less negative (we'll see if I can carry this through to February), so I want to start off with a post about something delicious. Luckily, in the midst of all that cruise ship hubbub, we found one truly amazing meal, and of course it was on land.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/A-little-music-at-Marisa.jpg\" alt=\"A little music at Marisa\" title=\"A little music at Marisa\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9538\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After three days at sea, our enormous polluting ship sailed into beautiful Puerto Vallarta. While the rest of our group took off to the jungle to zip line for a couple of hours, my family and I taxied downtown to meet fellow Babber \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/author/kim-laidlaw/\">Kim Laidlaw\u003c/a> (who just happened to be staying an hour away) and her husband Keith (looking very tall and Scottish in the Mexican sun). Now although I usually research restaurants before I leave for vacation, I must admit that I failed to do so this time around. Maybe it was because our time in each port was limited to a few hours, or maybe it was due to my resentment at having to go on a cruise. Whatever the case, I was remiss. Luckily Kim is a much better woman than I. Before taking a taxi to meet us, she had researched the perfect place to eat fish tacos while visiting the beautiful \u003ca href=\"http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi1383006233/\">Night of the Iguana\u003c/a> location city of Puerto Vallarta. So while the other tourists made their way to the \u003ca href=\"http://www.bubbagump.com/locations/puerto_vallarta.html\">Bubba Gump Shrimp Company\u003c/a> (there really is one of those in every seaside tourist town) our group meandered about 8 blocks away from the crowded boardwalk and into the city where we found a small aluminum taco cart called Marisma Fish Taco (yes, I realize \"Marisma Fish Tacos\" sounds more catchy, but the sign left off that last \"s\").\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Marisma is the type of eating establishment I dream of finding while on vacation. With locals crowding the few stools available to taste the pleasures of its fried fish, smoked marlin and shrimp tacos, it's the real deal. Marisma, from what I understand with my limited Spanish, is the lovely woman who runs it all and I am witness to the fact that she and the other women who work there are masters at making Baja-style tacos. While orders are being taken and patrons eat at the counter or at the few tables set up on the neighboring sidewalk, one lovely young woman continually pulls handfuls of masa from a small mountain of the stuff and grills freshly-made tortillas while another woman, who I think is Marisma, cooks and runs the show behind her. And here they are...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cobject width=\"425\" height=\"344\">\u003cparam name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/Ry0j9MU0nAE&hl=en_US&fs=1&\">\u003cparam name=\"allowFullScreen\" value=\"true\">\u003cparam name=\"allowscriptaccess\" value=\"always\">\u003cembed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/Ry0j9MU0nAE&hl=en_US&fs=1&\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" allowscriptaccess=\"always\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" width=\"425\" height=\"344\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/object>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are salsas set up on the counter, red and green with just the right amount of spice, but the real show stopper is the chile and onion compote set in large glass goblets. This mixture -- picante, tangy, and sweet all at the same time -- is the perfect accompaniment to the fish taco, or really anything for that matter. I wish I had some to slather on my chicken at home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/smoked-marlin-taco.jpg\" alt=\"smoked marlin taco\" title=\"smoked marlin taco\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9540\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once you taste those tacos you know why, in a city full of food, people stand in line for their lunch here. I started with the smoked marlin taco, which is served in a gorgeous red sauce that wakes up the tongue and makes it dance. I then went on to the house specialty: fish tacos. These are, in essence, perfect. Dorado covered in the simplest of batters, fried until golden, crisp and beautiful and then set inside a tortilla fresh off the grill with a topping of crema and cabbage. After days of heavily sauced mediocrity on board the ship, my taste buds sighed in relief. I devoured the first taco in a few seconds, so then had to order another one, pacing myself so I could slowly enjoy the flavors. While listening to a man strum on the guitar nearby, I marveled at how such simple ingredients could coalesce to create the perfect taste.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/fish-taco.jpg\" alt=\"fish taco\" title=\"fish taco\" width=\"400\" height=\"300\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-9539\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I chatted with the nice man beside me. He had grown up in Puerto Vallarta and ate at Marisma a few times a week. At 13 pesos a taco (about one U.S. dollar) it was a bargain for both tourists and locals alike. Kim and Keith treated my family to our feast, which came out to about $20 for the six of us, which included sodas. Thanks, Laidlaws!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After returning to our ship that evening, my family and I talked glowingly of our lunch that day. While tuxedoed waiters flitted about us, serving us a very forgettable meal on china plates, our thoughts were with those fish tacos. \u003cem>Yo sueño con Marisma Fish Taco\u003c/em>\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>\u003cbr>\nMarisma Fish Taco\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n320 Calle Naranjo\u003cbr>\nPuerto Vallarta\u003cbr>\nMexico. \u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-one/\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/nytimes-service.jpg\" alt=\"100 Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do. By Bruce Buschel\" title=\"100 Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do. By Bruce Buschel\" width=\"500\" height=\"332\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9510\">\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n\"Never touch a customer (#32).\" \"Do not curse (#45).\" \"Never refuse to substitute one vegetable for another (#20).\" \"Do not play brass bands (#93).\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In late October, as part of his start-up chronicle for the New York Times's You're The Boss blog, Bruce Buschel posted what he called \u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-one/\">\"a modest list of dos and don'ts\" for servers\u003c/a> at the Bridgehampton, N.Y. seafood restaurant he's opening on April Fool's Day. He included the above nuggets, along with 96 others. Far from \"modest,\" the list, laid out in two parts, touched off frantic comment-slinging in New York Times-land. Interest grew as links to the article and rejoinders from \u003ca href=\"http://blog.opentable.com/tag/bruce-buschel/\">far corners\u003c/a> of the food and business blogospheres ping-ponged through Twitter and Facebook. I first saw Buschel's piece on Facebook. The morning of the \u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/05/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-2/\">second part's publication\u003c/a> (a week after the first), a friend posted it to his profile and dissed it hard (\"what an asshole\"). A former bus boy at \u003ca href=\"http://www.perseny.com/\">Per Se\u003c/a> and the original \u003ca href=\"http://www.momofuku.com/\">Momofuku\u003c/a> as well as a third year law school student, my friend is familiar with both the industry in question and argument as a general preoccupation. He brought both strands of experience to bear on his brief take. Combing the comments to Buschel's posts, I found that reactions were typically extreme and severe, running the gamut from similarly negative (\"Who died and made this guy the bossy know-it-all?\", for example) to laudatory (\"This should be a must for every server and restaurant employee to memorize.\"). Comment-writers are a special breed. A certain kind of person has the time to read widely, strong opinions on most subjects, and a compulsion to dive into whatever fray they sense forming. Comment-writers rarely stand in for the larger population, just a subset of opinionated comment-writers who happen to have read the same thing. This is especially true when the piece provoking debate appears in the New York Times, a journal of record frequently accused of catering to an elitist readership.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In this case, some of the entries -- a hearty portion, actually -- concern a wee wafer of the food and hospitality universe -- nice restaurants for dates, expense accounts, vacations, and special occasions -- specifically, the sorts of places I imagine the writer frequents with more regularity than me. After all, the proprietor of a barbecue restaurant in rural South Carolina would not be compelled to offer olive oil as well as butter with bread (#19), and if some asshole from New York skated through and dumbly asked for it, he'd have to send him on his way -- maybe to Olive Garden, where bread and oil are endless. Buschel anticipates that critique: \"I realize that every deli needs a wisecracking waiter, most pizza joints can handle heavy metal, and burgers always taste better when delivered by a server with tattoos and tongue piercing(s).\" Aside from his frail and stunted knowledge of delis, pizzerias, and burger places, Buschel's advice ostensibly only concerns plans for his own restaurant, an organic vegetable and fish dispensary with nary a hoof nor a feather on the menu; yet the act of publishing his list suggests he thinks it has universal value.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, Bruce Buschel doesn't even know what he's doing. He's a novice, you see, a dilettante, something he made sure to lay out in his \u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/09/introducing-start-up-chronicle-are-you-nuts/\">very first post\u003c/a>, a question-and-answer session with a hypothetical naysayer. He's never taken an order. He's never been tipped worse than a washroom attendant. His experience with restaurants is limited to dining in them. He's unfettered by an intimate knowledge of the industry. How refreshing! His do's and dont's reflect his own preferences, and perhaps those of his friends; when they're pressed into service at his own establishment, he's assuming diners will feel the same way. I'm not hating on #5. \"Tables should be level without anyone asking.\" Oh god, yes -- shaky tables are the pits. No one wants to spend the first five minutes of any meal anywhere trying to fold a paper towel under a wobbly leg. Others are absurd. For example, if a guest \"goes gaga\" over dish, no server should have to ask the chef for the recipe on the excessively complimentary guest's behalf (#97). The guest should be told to chill out and come back soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I eat out a lot, both recreationally and professionally, and I have my own preferences too, though I would hesitate to open a restaurant and impose them on guests and employees. I'm a wreck, basically. I send mixed signals. I like to be left alone, for starters, but I hate having an empty glass. Fill it frequently enough and I'll fall asleep before dinner is over. I dread the sight of a beaming server approaching to check in with me. I am sensitive, and I anticipate condescension well before it happens, and I know it happens all the time. Excessively nice servers make me feel bad, like I should go get my food myself and share it with them, maybe feed it to them, bite by bite. I don't like anyone acting like they're catering to my needs, but I don't mind them being catered to just a little bit. I don't care how fine a dining experience is supposed to be; I like to hang my own jacket on the back of my chair and put my napkin in my own lap. And I don't like to have anything to complain about because I can't stand the possibility of conflict -- at least with strangers. I have seen people pitch fits in restaurants over service. Interestingly, my friend who hated Buschel's column is himself a very demanding consumer. In college, hung-over, at a breakfast place, he once sent back a ham-and-Swiss omelette because it came topped with inauthentic white American cheese instead of Emmentaler. A year or two later, he cleared a booth at a Manhattan diner to exchange screams with a waitress after he refused to pay for fries he received and ate but didn't order. He had points to make in both instances, but neither situation would have riled me. A white American omelette is authentic in northern Ohio, and fries are always nice to have. He should have ordered them in the first place and saved the waitress the trouble of guessing he'd probably like eating them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Food and service are two very different things intertwined in the dining experience. I'm food-focused, and apart from my admitted quirks, rarely find that service rubs me the wrong way unless the food also sucks. Four years or so ago, I had a strange, sneering server at \u003ca href=\"http://www.perbaccosf.com/\">Perbacco\u003c/a>, but I turned the other cheek. It was full of coppa. On several occasions, my girlfriend and I shifted nervously through meals at the lovable and lamentably late \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/vogalonga-trattoria-san-francisco\">Vogalonga Trattoria\u003c/a>. Our regular waiter was capable and friendly to me, but strangely, when he took her order, he refused to look at her. He would stare into my eyes awkwardly and ask her what she wanted. How weird, I thought every time it happened, but we still went back. Another time, we waited for a table at \u003ca href=\"http://www.thefrontporchsf.com/main.html\">The Front Porch\u003c/a> for over 45 minutes, and then, upon finally sitting down and ordering, waited once again for an hour before the first scrap of food arrived. I didn't give a shit about the fried chicken by the time it came; I just wanted to bail, which was why it was annoying that the server kept trying to make us eat dessert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Restaurants love to offer free dessert when something goes wrong with your meal. The idea is to soothe you, and send you off with a sweet taste in your mouth, instead of fuming over the under-cooked chicken you sent back. I don't get it. If I want dessert -- which I usually don't -- I order it. If I don't order it, I'm full. Buschel should add a #101 on the subject: when someone screws up something, comp cocktails instead of dessert. Then again, my lady and I dined at \u003ca href=\"http://www.delfinasf.com/home.html\">Delfina\u003c/a> the night before Christmas Eve, and at the conclusion of our meal, received a free dessert -- a lemon panna cotta, I believe. The food that night was great, if a little less stunning than it's been in the past, but this made it better -- even though we'd already had plenty to eat. We had no idea why we'd been selected for such a treat. We saw no quivery cylinders squishing across other plates in the vicinity. They must have known my status, I joked on the way home. Was our server's generosity a random display of holiday spirit? Had we failed to notice something terribly amiss with our meal? We could thing of nothing. Buschel, take note: comp something even when no one screws up -- even if its dessert (#102).\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "In late October, as part of his start-up chronicle for the New York Times's You're The Boss blog, Bruce Buschel posted what he called \"a modest list of dos and don'ts\" for servers at the Bridgehampton, N.Y. seafood restaurant he's opening on April Fool's Day. He included the above nuggets, along with 96 others. Far from \"modest,\" the list, laid out in two parts, touched off frantic comment-slinging in New York Times-land.",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-one/\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/nytimes-service.jpg\" alt=\"100 Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do. By Bruce Buschel\" title=\"100 Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do. By Bruce Buschel\" width=\"500\" height=\"332\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9510\">\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n\"Never touch a customer (#32).\" \"Do not curse (#45).\" \"Never refuse to substitute one vegetable for another (#20).\" \"Do not play brass bands (#93).\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In late October, as part of his start-up chronicle for the New York Times's You're The Boss blog, Bruce Buschel posted what he called \u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-one/\">\"a modest list of dos and don'ts\" for servers\u003c/a> at the Bridgehampton, N.Y. seafood restaurant he's opening on April Fool's Day. He included the above nuggets, along with 96 others. Far from \"modest,\" the list, laid out in two parts, touched off frantic comment-slinging in New York Times-land. Interest grew as links to the article and rejoinders from \u003ca href=\"http://blog.opentable.com/tag/bruce-buschel/\">far corners\u003c/a> of the food and business blogospheres ping-ponged through Twitter and Facebook. I first saw Buschel's piece on Facebook. The morning of the \u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/05/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-2/\">second part's publication\u003c/a> (a week after the first), a friend posted it to his profile and dissed it hard (\"what an asshole\"). A former bus boy at \u003ca href=\"http://www.perseny.com/\">Per Se\u003c/a> and the original \u003ca href=\"http://www.momofuku.com/\">Momofuku\u003c/a> as well as a third year law school student, my friend is familiar with both the industry in question and argument as a general preoccupation. He brought both strands of experience to bear on his brief take. Combing the comments to Buschel's posts, I found that reactions were typically extreme and severe, running the gamut from similarly negative (\"Who died and made this guy the bossy know-it-all?\", for example) to laudatory (\"This should be a must for every server and restaurant employee to memorize.\"). Comment-writers are a special breed. A certain kind of person has the time to read widely, strong opinions on most subjects, and a compulsion to dive into whatever fray they sense forming. Comment-writers rarely stand in for the larger population, just a subset of opinionated comment-writers who happen to have read the same thing. This is especially true when the piece provoking debate appears in the New York Times, a journal of record frequently accused of catering to an elitist readership.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In this case, some of the entries -- a hearty portion, actually -- concern a wee wafer of the food and hospitality universe -- nice restaurants for dates, expense accounts, vacations, and special occasions -- specifically, the sorts of places I imagine the writer frequents with more regularity than me. After all, the proprietor of a barbecue restaurant in rural South Carolina would not be compelled to offer olive oil as well as butter with bread (#19), and if some asshole from New York skated through and dumbly asked for it, he'd have to send him on his way -- maybe to Olive Garden, where bread and oil are endless. Buschel anticipates that critique: \"I realize that every deli needs a wisecracking waiter, most pizza joints can handle heavy metal, and burgers always taste better when delivered by a server with tattoos and tongue piercing(s).\" Aside from his frail and stunted knowledge of delis, pizzerias, and burger places, Buschel's advice ostensibly only concerns plans for his own restaurant, an organic vegetable and fish dispensary with nary a hoof nor a feather on the menu; yet the act of publishing his list suggests he thinks it has universal value.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, Bruce Buschel doesn't even know what he's doing. He's a novice, you see, a dilettante, something he made sure to lay out in his \u003ca href=\"http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/09/introducing-start-up-chronicle-are-you-nuts/\">very first post\u003c/a>, a question-and-answer session with a hypothetical naysayer. He's never taken an order. He's never been tipped worse than a washroom attendant. His experience with restaurants is limited to dining in them. He's unfettered by an intimate knowledge of the industry. How refreshing! His do's and dont's reflect his own preferences, and perhaps those of his friends; when they're pressed into service at his own establishment, he's assuming diners will feel the same way. I'm not hating on #5. \"Tables should be level without anyone asking.\" Oh god, yes -- shaky tables are the pits. No one wants to spend the first five minutes of any meal anywhere trying to fold a paper towel under a wobbly leg. Others are absurd. For example, if a guest \"goes gaga\" over dish, no server should have to ask the chef for the recipe on the excessively complimentary guest's behalf (#97). The guest should be told to chill out and come back soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I eat out a lot, both recreationally and professionally, and I have my own preferences too, though I would hesitate to open a restaurant and impose them on guests and employees. I'm a wreck, basically. I send mixed signals. I like to be left alone, for starters, but I hate having an empty glass. Fill it frequently enough and I'll fall asleep before dinner is over. I dread the sight of a beaming server approaching to check in with me. I am sensitive, and I anticipate condescension well before it happens, and I know it happens all the time. Excessively nice servers make me feel bad, like I should go get my food myself and share it with them, maybe feed it to them, bite by bite. I don't like anyone acting like they're catering to my needs, but I don't mind them being catered to just a little bit. I don't care how fine a dining experience is supposed to be; I like to hang my own jacket on the back of my chair and put my napkin in my own lap. And I don't like to have anything to complain about because I can't stand the possibility of conflict -- at least with strangers. I have seen people pitch fits in restaurants over service. Interestingly, my friend who hated Buschel's column is himself a very demanding consumer. In college, hung-over, at a breakfast place, he once sent back a ham-and-Swiss omelette because it came topped with inauthentic white American cheese instead of Emmentaler. A year or two later, he cleared a booth at a Manhattan diner to exchange screams with a waitress after he refused to pay for fries he received and ate but didn't order. He had points to make in both instances, but neither situation would have riled me. A white American omelette is authentic in northern Ohio, and fries are always nice to have. He should have ordered them in the first place and saved the waitress the trouble of guessing he'd probably like eating them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Food and service are two very different things intertwined in the dining experience. I'm food-focused, and apart from my admitted quirks, rarely find that service rubs me the wrong way unless the food also sucks. Four years or so ago, I had a strange, sneering server at \u003ca href=\"http://www.perbaccosf.com/\">Perbacco\u003c/a>, but I turned the other cheek. It was full of coppa. On several occasions, my girlfriend and I shifted nervously through meals at the lovable and lamentably late \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/vogalonga-trattoria-san-francisco\">Vogalonga Trattoria\u003c/a>. Our regular waiter was capable and friendly to me, but strangely, when he took her order, he refused to look at her. He would stare into my eyes awkwardly and ask her what she wanted. How weird, I thought every time it happened, but we still went back. Another time, we waited for a table at \u003ca href=\"http://www.thefrontporchsf.com/main.html\">The Front Porch\u003c/a> for over 45 minutes, and then, upon finally sitting down and ordering, waited once again for an hour before the first scrap of food arrived. I didn't give a shit about the fried chicken by the time it came; I just wanted to bail, which was why it was annoying that the server kept trying to make us eat dessert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Restaurants love to offer free dessert when something goes wrong with your meal. The idea is to soothe you, and send you off with a sweet taste in your mouth, instead of fuming over the under-cooked chicken you sent back. I don't get it. If I want dessert -- which I usually don't -- I order it. If I don't order it, I'm full. Buschel should add a #101 on the subject: when someone screws up something, comp cocktails instead of dessert. Then again, my lady and I dined at \u003ca href=\"http://www.delfinasf.com/home.html\">Delfina\u003c/a> the night before Christmas Eve, and at the conclusion of our meal, received a free dessert -- a lemon panna cotta, I believe. The food that night was great, if a little less stunning than it's been in the past, but this made it better -- even though we'd already had plenty to eat. We had no idea why we'd been selected for such a treat. We saw no quivery cylinders squishing across other plates in the vicinity. They must have known my status, I joked on the way home. Was our server's generosity a random display of holiday spirit? Had we failed to notice something terribly amiss with our meal? We could thing of nothing. Buschel, take note: comp something even when no one screws up -- even if its dessert (#102).\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/roasteryfirstphoto.jpg\" alt=\"The Calistoga Roastery\" title=\"The Calistoga Roastery\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9474\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Calistoga Roastery: best choice for a morning fuel stop\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As a kid, this time of year always brought about great vacations. When my sisters and I were in school, my parents would load us into the Volvo station wagon and we'd usually go up to Tahoe to ski (that was major when you think about navigating small kids, ski rental lines, and the occasional blizzard). If not Tahoe, we'd travel to Florida to visit relatives. But now, my sisters and I are grown adults and we all have busy lives and differing schedules, so it's tough to get everyone home with enough time to get out of Dodge even for a few days. But this year we were lucky. Zoe's home from college. Rachael flew in from Seattle. And my mom whisked us all up to Calistoga for a weekend at \u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/\">Solage\u003c/a> where we ate and drank our way through town. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Calistoga is a small, sleepy town in the Napa Valley that literally sits on top of thermal hot springs, so its famous for its mineral waters and fortified mud (and thus, many resorts and spas have cropped up around the area). I hadn't been to Calistoga and was pleasantly surprised that a lot of the pretension of restaurants and wineries in the Napa Valley is noticeably absent. In many ways, if you look past the tourists, it's still very much a small, humble town. The downtown consists of a few bars and restaurants, a bank and a coffee shop, and a smattering of small retail shops. Then of course, there's \u003ca href=\"http://www.indianspringscalistoga.com/\">Indian Springs\u003c/a> and a few other resorts. After exploring downtown (it won’t take you long), take a drive (or hop on your bike like we did) and you can experience a great deal of what the town has to offer. As we headed home, we took a survey and decided on our \"best of\" list. So here are the Gordon sister's favorite places to grab a bite while in Calistoga and--if you're anything like us--in between glasses of wine. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Fueling up for the day: Calistoga Roastery\u003c/strong> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/calistogaroastery.jpg\" alt=\"Calistoga Roastery\" title=\"Calistoga Roastery\" width=\"500\" height=\"294\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9477\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Downtown Calistoga's favorite spot for a cup of strong coffee\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This is the local coffee shop in Calistoga. Owners Clive Richardson and Jack Martin opened \u003ca href=\"http://calistogaroastery.com/\">Calistoga Roastery\u003c/a> in the summer of 1999 after Clive left the corporate coffee world in San Francisco looking for something smaller and more independent. They roast their own beans, and supply coffee to many of the local resorts. And after tasting a cup, you can tell why. I noticed many of the locals stopping in to sit and have one of the bottomless cups of strong drip coffee. But they do a wide variety of espresso drinks and teas as well, and offer freshly baked muffins, scones, and housemade granola. We rode over one morning after a late dinner at \u003ca href=\"http://www.bouchonbistro.com/\">Bouchon\u003c/a>, so no one was feeling much like food but we nursed our lattes on the benches outside and took in the downtown sites for a good hour or so (great people-watching). Inside, there were tables of locals talking about their Christmas holidays and what they were up to for New Year's Eve. A group of eight older men were seated at the big communal table by the window reading the paper and gossiping about their wives. There's definitely an old-timeyness about the place with its big open space, no-nonsense baristas, welcoming wooden bar with stools, and locals moseying in wearing cowboy hats. If you're a fan of caramel frou-frou drinks from Starbucks, this may not be your place. But if you actually like to taste the espresso in your latte, don't miss it.\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://calistogaroastery.com/\">Calistoga Roastery\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n1426 Lincoln Avenue\u003cbr>\nCalistoga, CA 94515\u003cbr>\n(707) 942- 5757\u003cbr>\nHours: Daily 6:30am–6pm \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Lunch (or rolling breakfast): Café Sarafornia\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/sarafornia.jpg\" alt=\"Cafe Sarafornia\" title=\"Cafe Sarafornia\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9479\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Checking out the large morning menu at Café Sarafornia\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sam Brannan was the man touted for originally discovering the town of Calistoga. The story goes a little something like this: Brannan bought the geyser lands in the 1860s, promoting it as the \"Saratoga of California\" (after Saratoga, Springs in New York). One evening after having a few too many, he declared instead, \"I will make this place the Calistoga of Sarafornia.\" Thus the name of the town, and thus the name of this quaint, old-fashioned diner. Now let's be honest about \u003ca href=\"http://cafesarafornia.com/\">Café Sarafornia\u003c/a>. Is it the best food you've ever had? No, no it's not. But they've got some things going for them, and I'll definitely be back next time I'm in town. First, they serve breakfast all day long (we'd originally gone for lunch but couldn't help ordering from the breakfast menu--as were many of the tables), which will score you points in my book. It's decent, reliable diner food with booths situated around a wide circular bar where locals saddle up and chat with the curt yet efficient waitresses. I had the Wildcat Scrambler with chicken apple sausage, mushrooms, and Swiss cheese and some delightfully greasy (and salty) hash browns. My sister Rachael went big with the chicken-fried steak, and my mom got the 2+2+2 (2 pancakes or French toast + 2 eggs + 2 bacon or sausage links)--kind of the perfect meal and one I don't often see on breakfast menus any more. So go knowing you won't get waited on hand and foot nor will you find artisan or organic ingredients on the menu. But go knowing it truly is the perfect spot to fill up on some hearty sustenance before heading out to the wineries--after all, you need a little something to soak up those tannins.\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://cafesarafornia.com/\">Café Sarafornia\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n1413 Lincoln Avenue\u003cbr>\nCalistoga, CA 94515\u003cbr>\n(707) 942-0555\u003cbr>\nHours: Daily 7am-2:30pm (lunch starting at 11am)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Dinner: SolBar at Solage Resort\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/solbar.jpg\" alt=\"SolBar at Solage Resort\" title=\"SolBar at Solage Resort\" width=\"500\" height=\"167\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9481\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The inviting entrance leading up to SolBar\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'll admit it: I was hesitant when my mom told me she made reservations at the hotel restaurant. In my experience, that never bodes well. Believe me when I tell you I'll never, ever have those thoughts again. Our dinner at \u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/dining/\">SolBar\u003c/a> was the best meal I've had in a very long time--and I've done a lot of eating out this holiday season. Let me start by saying the meal wasn't inexpensive: you've got to save your pennies...or bring your mom. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now it's obviously winter, but I've vowed to come back in the summer when we can sit outside on the outdoor patio and enjoy the oversized fire pit, bocce ball courts, and little lights strung throughout the trees. The dining room was inviting with its high ceilings, lovely big fire, and roomy tables with little Heath vases and local flowers. Knowing that SolBar had received their first Michelin Star, we were all expecting it to be a bit stuffy. But it was actually the most comfortable, laid-back fine dining experience. The servers seemed to always know when you needed something and anticipated questions and pairing advice, but were never pesky or overbearing. The menu is organized around the seasons with organic, local ingredients. I started with the Winter Squash Veloute, a creamy soup with crispy sage leaves and granny smith apples. Then I chose the Preserved Lemon and Chickpea Stew with braised kale, roasted garlic, tomato confit, and harissa. Looking back, I'm not sure why I went the vegetarian route, as the menu boasts other dishes including a delicate cod, beef short ribs with polenta, and their infamous \"Lucky Pig,\" a dish meant for two comprised of slow roasted pork shoulder served with black sesame crepes, pickled pineapple, mongolian peanuts, and lettuce cups. For dessert, we shared the well-regarded warm donut holes (you must try these!) and a spice cake with candied persimmon. Lingering over Irish Coffees, conversation had come to a bit of a halt and it was getting late, but no one wanted to leave. We didn't want the experience to end, so we sat staring at the fire--and ordered another round of coffees. Then, we were back the next morning for breakfast.\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/dining/\">SolBar\u003c/a> at \u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/\">Solage Resort\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n755 Silverado Trail\u003cbr>\nCalistoga, CA 94515\u003cbr>\n(707) 226-0850\u003cbr>\nHours: Breakfast: 7 am-11am; Lunch 11:30 am-3pm\u003cbr>\nDinner: 5:30 pm-9pm; Lounge 11am-11pm; Sunday brunch 11:30 am-3 pm. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Small Local Wineries to Love:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/lavavine.jpg\" alt=\"Lava Vine\" title=\"Lava Vine\" width=\"500\" height=\"500\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9484\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Lava Vine, a sweet little family-run winery with incredible Chardonnay and Zinfandel\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.lavavine.com/\">Lava Vine\u003c/a>: 965 Silverado Trail in Calistoga CA 94515; (707) 942-9500\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.augustbriggswines.com/\">August Briggs\u003c/a>: 333 Silverado Trail in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-4912\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Other Great Calistoga Food Destinations:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.brannansgrill.com/\">Brannan's Grill\u003c/a>: 1374 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-2233\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.calistogainn.com/\">Calistoga Inn and Brewery\u003c/a>: 1250 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-4101\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.wappobar.com/\">Wappo Bar and Bistro\u003c/a>: 1226 Washington Street in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-4712\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.jolerestaurant.com/\">Jole\u003c/a>: 1457 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-5938\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/palisades-deli-cafe-calistoga\">Palisades Deli\u003c/a>: 1458 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-0145\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "Calistoga is a small, sleepy town in the Napa Valley that literally sits on top of thermal hot springs, so its famous for its mineral waters and fortified mud (and thus, many resorts and spas have cropped up around the area). I hadn't been to Calistoga and was pleasantly surprised that a lot of the pretension of restaurants and wineries in the Napa Valley is noticeably absent.",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/roasteryfirstphoto.jpg\" alt=\"The Calistoga Roastery\" title=\"The Calistoga Roastery\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9474\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The Calistoga Roastery: best choice for a morning fuel stop\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As a kid, this time of year always brought about great vacations. When my sisters and I were in school, my parents would load us into the Volvo station wagon and we'd usually go up to Tahoe to ski (that was major when you think about navigating small kids, ski rental lines, and the occasional blizzard). If not Tahoe, we'd travel to Florida to visit relatives. But now, my sisters and I are grown adults and we all have busy lives and differing schedules, so it's tough to get everyone home with enough time to get out of Dodge even for a few days. But this year we were lucky. Zoe's home from college. Rachael flew in from Seattle. And my mom whisked us all up to Calistoga for a weekend at \u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/\">Solage\u003c/a> where we ate and drank our way through town. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Calistoga is a small, sleepy town in the Napa Valley that literally sits on top of thermal hot springs, so its famous for its mineral waters and fortified mud (and thus, many resorts and spas have cropped up around the area). I hadn't been to Calistoga and was pleasantly surprised that a lot of the pretension of restaurants and wineries in the Napa Valley is noticeably absent. In many ways, if you look past the tourists, it's still very much a small, humble town. The downtown consists of a few bars and restaurants, a bank and a coffee shop, and a smattering of small retail shops. Then of course, there's \u003ca href=\"http://www.indianspringscalistoga.com/\">Indian Springs\u003c/a> and a few other resorts. After exploring downtown (it won’t take you long), take a drive (or hop on your bike like we did) and you can experience a great deal of what the town has to offer. As we headed home, we took a survey and decided on our \"best of\" list. So here are the Gordon sister's favorite places to grab a bite while in Calistoga and--if you're anything like us--in between glasses of wine. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Fueling up for the day: Calistoga Roastery\u003c/strong> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/calistogaroastery.jpg\" alt=\"Calistoga Roastery\" title=\"Calistoga Roastery\" width=\"500\" height=\"294\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9477\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Downtown Calistoga's favorite spot for a cup of strong coffee\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This is the local coffee shop in Calistoga. Owners Clive Richardson and Jack Martin opened \u003ca href=\"http://calistogaroastery.com/\">Calistoga Roastery\u003c/a> in the summer of 1999 after Clive left the corporate coffee world in San Francisco looking for something smaller and more independent. They roast their own beans, and supply coffee to many of the local resorts. And after tasting a cup, you can tell why. I noticed many of the locals stopping in to sit and have one of the bottomless cups of strong drip coffee. But they do a wide variety of espresso drinks and teas as well, and offer freshly baked muffins, scones, and housemade granola. We rode over one morning after a late dinner at \u003ca href=\"http://www.bouchonbistro.com/\">Bouchon\u003c/a>, so no one was feeling much like food but we nursed our lattes on the benches outside and took in the downtown sites for a good hour or so (great people-watching). Inside, there were tables of locals talking about their Christmas holidays and what they were up to for New Year's Eve. A group of eight older men were seated at the big communal table by the window reading the paper and gossiping about their wives. There's definitely an old-timeyness about the place with its big open space, no-nonsense baristas, welcoming wooden bar with stools, and locals moseying in wearing cowboy hats. If you're a fan of caramel frou-frou drinks from Starbucks, this may not be your place. But if you actually like to taste the espresso in your latte, don't miss it.\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://calistogaroastery.com/\">Calistoga Roastery\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n1426 Lincoln Avenue\u003cbr>\nCalistoga, CA 94515\u003cbr>\n(707) 942- 5757\u003cbr>\nHours: Daily 6:30am–6pm \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Lunch (or rolling breakfast): Café Sarafornia\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/sarafornia.jpg\" alt=\"Cafe Sarafornia\" title=\"Cafe Sarafornia\" width=\"500\" height=\"375\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9479\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Checking out the large morning menu at Café Sarafornia\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sam Brannan was the man touted for originally discovering the town of Calistoga. The story goes a little something like this: Brannan bought the geyser lands in the 1860s, promoting it as the \"Saratoga of California\" (after Saratoga, Springs in New York). One evening after having a few too many, he declared instead, \"I will make this place the Calistoga of Sarafornia.\" Thus the name of the town, and thus the name of this quaint, old-fashioned diner. Now let's be honest about \u003ca href=\"http://cafesarafornia.com/\">Café Sarafornia\u003c/a>. Is it the best food you've ever had? No, no it's not. But they've got some things going for them, and I'll definitely be back next time I'm in town. First, they serve breakfast all day long (we'd originally gone for lunch but couldn't help ordering from the breakfast menu--as were many of the tables), which will score you points in my book. It's decent, reliable diner food with booths situated around a wide circular bar where locals saddle up and chat with the curt yet efficient waitresses. I had the Wildcat Scrambler with chicken apple sausage, mushrooms, and Swiss cheese and some delightfully greasy (and salty) hash browns. My sister Rachael went big with the chicken-fried steak, and my mom got the 2+2+2 (2 pancakes or French toast + 2 eggs + 2 bacon or sausage links)--kind of the perfect meal and one I don't often see on breakfast menus any more. So go knowing you won't get waited on hand and foot nor will you find artisan or organic ingredients on the menu. But go knowing it truly is the perfect spot to fill up on some hearty sustenance before heading out to the wineries--after all, you need a little something to soak up those tannins.\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://cafesarafornia.com/\">Café Sarafornia\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n1413 Lincoln Avenue\u003cbr>\nCalistoga, CA 94515\u003cbr>\n(707) 942-0555\u003cbr>\nHours: Daily 7am-2:30pm (lunch starting at 11am)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Dinner: SolBar at Solage Resort\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/solbar.jpg\" alt=\"SolBar at Solage Resort\" title=\"SolBar at Solage Resort\" width=\"500\" height=\"167\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9481\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>The inviting entrance leading up to SolBar\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'll admit it: I was hesitant when my mom told me she made reservations at the hotel restaurant. In my experience, that never bodes well. Believe me when I tell you I'll never, ever have those thoughts again. Our dinner at \u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/dining/\">SolBar\u003c/a> was the best meal I've had in a very long time--and I've done a lot of eating out this holiday season. Let me start by saying the meal wasn't inexpensive: you've got to save your pennies...or bring your mom. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now it's obviously winter, but I've vowed to come back in the summer when we can sit outside on the outdoor patio and enjoy the oversized fire pit, bocce ball courts, and little lights strung throughout the trees. The dining room was inviting with its high ceilings, lovely big fire, and roomy tables with little Heath vases and local flowers. Knowing that SolBar had received their first Michelin Star, we were all expecting it to be a bit stuffy. But it was actually the most comfortable, laid-back fine dining experience. The servers seemed to always know when you needed something and anticipated questions and pairing advice, but were never pesky or overbearing. The menu is organized around the seasons with organic, local ingredients. I started with the Winter Squash Veloute, a creamy soup with crispy sage leaves and granny smith apples. Then I chose the Preserved Lemon and Chickpea Stew with braised kale, roasted garlic, tomato confit, and harissa. Looking back, I'm not sure why I went the vegetarian route, as the menu boasts other dishes including a delicate cod, beef short ribs with polenta, and their infamous \"Lucky Pig,\" a dish meant for two comprised of slow roasted pork shoulder served with black sesame crepes, pickled pineapple, mongolian peanuts, and lettuce cups. For dessert, we shared the well-regarded warm donut holes (you must try these!) and a spice cake with candied persimmon. Lingering over Irish Coffees, conversation had come to a bit of a halt and it was getting late, but no one wanted to leave. We didn't want the experience to end, so we sat staring at the fire--and ordered another round of coffees. Then, we were back the next morning for breakfast.\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/dining/\">SolBar\u003c/a> at \u003ca href=\"http://www.solagecalistoga.com/\">Solage Resort\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\n755 Silverado Trail\u003cbr>\nCalistoga, CA 94515\u003cbr>\n(707) 226-0850\u003cbr>\nHours: Breakfast: 7 am-11am; Lunch 11:30 am-3pm\u003cbr>\nDinner: 5:30 pm-9pm; Lounge 11am-11pm; Sunday brunch 11:30 am-3 pm. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Small Local Wineries to Love:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2010/01/lavavine.jpg\" alt=\"Lava Vine\" title=\"Lava Vine\" width=\"500\" height=\"500\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9484\">\u003cbr>\n\u003cem>Lava Vine, a sweet little family-run winery with incredible Chardonnay and Zinfandel\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.lavavine.com/\">Lava Vine\u003c/a>: 965 Silverado Trail in Calistoga CA 94515; (707) 942-9500\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.augustbriggswines.com/\">August Briggs\u003c/a>: 333 Silverado Trail in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-4912\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Other Great Calistoga Food Destinations:\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.brannansgrill.com/\">Brannan's Grill\u003c/a>: 1374 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-2233\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.calistogainn.com/\">Calistoga Inn and Brewery\u003c/a>: 1250 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-4101\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.wappobar.com/\">Wappo Bar and Bistro\u003c/a>: 1226 Washington Street in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-4712\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.jolerestaurant.com/\">Jole\u003c/a>: 1457 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-5938\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/palisades-deli-cafe-calistoga\">Palisades Deli\u003c/a>: 1458 Lincoln Avenue in Calistoga, CA 94515; (707) 942-0145\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"info": "What kind of no sabo word is Hyphenación? For us, it’s about living within a hyphenation. Like being a third-gen Mexican-American from the Texas border now living that Bay Area Chicano life. Like Xorje! Each week we bring together a couple of hyphenated Latinos to talk all about personal life choices: family, careers, relationships, belonging … everything is on the table. ",
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"info": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown brings listeners the wisdom of the former Governor, Mayor, and presidential candidate. Scott Shafer interviewed Brown for more than 40 hours, covering the former governor's life and half-century in the political game – and Brown has some lessons he'd like to share. ",
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"info": "Our flagship program, helmed by Kai Ryssdal, examines what the day in money delivered, through stories, conversations, newsworthy numbers and more. Updated Monday through Friday at about 3:30 p.m. PT.",
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"info": "The MindShift podcast explores the innovations in education that are shaping how kids learn. Hosts Ki Sung and Katrina Schwartz introduce listeners to educators, researchers, parents and students who are developing effective ways to improve how kids learn. We cover topics like how fed-up administrators are developing surprising tactics to deal with classroom disruptions; how listening to podcasts are helping kids develop reading skills; the consequences of overparenting; and why interdisciplinary learning can engage students on all ends of the traditional achievement spectrum. This podcast is part of the MindShift education site, a division of KQED News. KQED is an NPR/PBS member station based in San Francisco. You can also visit the MindShift website for episodes and supplemental blog posts or tweet us \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/MindShiftKQED\">@MindShiftKQED\u003c/a> or visit us at \u003ca href=\"/mindshift\">MindShift.KQED.org\u003c/a>",
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"info": "For decades, the process for how police police themselves has been inconsistent – if not opaque. In some states, like California, these proceedings were completely hidden. After a new police transparency law unsealed scores of internal affairs files, our reporters set out to examine these cases and the shadow world of police discipline. On Our Watch brings listeners into the rooms where officers are questioned and witnesses are interrogated to find out who this system is really protecting. Is it the officers, or the public they've sworn to serve?",
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"title": "Political Breakdown",
"tagline": "Politics from a personal perspective",
"info": "Political Breakdown is a new series that explores the political intersection of California and the nation. Each week hosts Scott Shafer and Marisa Lagos are joined with a new special guest to unpack politics -- with personality — and offer an insider’s glimpse at how politics happens.",
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"possible": {
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"title": "Possible",
"info": "Possible is hosted by entrepreneur Reid Hoffman and writer Aria Finger. Together in Possible, Hoffman and Finger lead enlightening discussions about building a brighter collective future. The show features interviews with visionary guests like Trevor Noah, Sam Altman and Janette Sadik-Khan. Possible paints an optimistic portrait of the world we can create through science, policy, business, art and our shared humanity. It asks: What if everything goes right for once? How can we get there? Each episode also includes a short fiction story generated by advanced AI GPT-4, serving as a thought-provoking springboard to speculate how humanity could leverage technology for good.",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm",
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"pri-the-world": {
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"info": "Each weekday, host Marco Werman and his team of producers bring you the world's most interesting stories in an hour of radio that reminds us just how small our planet really is.",
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"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-World-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
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},
"radiolab": {
"id": "radiolab",
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"info": "A two-time Peabody Award-winner, Radiolab is an investigation told through sounds and stories, and centered around one big idea. In the Radiolab world, information sounds like music and science and culture collide. Hosted by Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich, the show is designed for listeners who demand skepticism, but appreciate wonder. WNYC Studios is the producer of other leading podcasts including Freakonomics Radio, Death, Sex & Money, On the Media and many more.",
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"reveal": {
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"title": "Reveal",
"info": "Created by The Center for Investigative Reporting and PRX, Reveal is public radios first one-hour weekly radio show and podcast dedicated to investigative reporting. Credible, fact based and without a partisan agenda, Reveal combines the power and artistry of driveway moment storytelling with data-rich reporting on critically important issues. The result is stories that inform and inspire, arming our listeners with information to right injustices, hold the powerful accountable and improve lives.Reveal is hosted by Al Letson and showcases the award-winning work of CIR and newsrooms large and small across the nation. In a radio and podcast market crowded with choices, Reveal focuses on important and often surprising stories that illuminate the world for our listeners.",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.revealnews.org/episodes/",
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},
"rightnowish": {
"id": "rightnowish",
"title": "Rightnowish",
"tagline": "Art is where you find it",
"info": "Rightnowish digs into life in the Bay Area right now… ish. Journalist Pendarvis Harshaw takes us to galleries painted on the sides of liquor stores in West Oakland. We'll dance in warehouses in the Bayview, make smoothies with kids in South Berkeley, and listen to classical music in a 1984 Cutlass Supreme in Richmond. Every week, Pen talks to movers and shakers about how the Bay Area shapes what they create, and how they shape the place we call home.",
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"order": 16
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},
"science-friday": {
"id": "science-friday",
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"info": "Science Friday is a weekly science talk show, broadcast live over public radio stations nationwide. Each week, the show focuses on science topics that are in the news and tries to bring an educated, balanced discussion to bear on the scientific issues at hand. Panels of expert guests join host Ira Flatow, a veteran science journalist, to discuss science and to take questions from listeners during the call-in portion of the program.",
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"snap-judgment": {
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