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I know, I know, kind of a cliché Big Sur \"thing to do\" but it was my husband's very first trip to the magical little coastal town of Big Sur and we were celebrating his 1-year anniversary of moving to the United States.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Upon recommendation from one of his basketball buddies, I had booked a table at the \u003ca href=\"http://www.bigsurbakery.com/\">Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/a>, a little gem that apparently has been around for awhile, but which I'd never noticed or even heard of (even though I've been to Big Sur countless times. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was an unseasonably warm evening and when we arrived the light was dusky and purple across the mountains behind us. The restaurant, even though it has quite a few windows, is cozy and dark and would make an excellent refuge from the typically foggy chilly weather I associate with that part of the coast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2008/04/bigsurbakery02.jpg\" alt=\"Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It wasn't terribly busy, but it did take quite some time for the waitstaff/owner/host to work out where we'd be seated. Don't get me wrong, everyone was exceedingly friendly the entire evening, but it was a bit of foreshadowing to a night of slightly confused service. (Just to explain before I go on, there were a few instances of forgetfulness, and a general lack of confidence by the waitstaff; the restaurant could benefit from clarifying everyone's roles and responsibilities.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.bigsurbakery.com/\">Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/a> has a wood-fire oven which takes center stage on the menu. They base much of their seasonal, organic menu on dishes that can be baked, roasted, or braised in the oven. They also have a wood-fired grill. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2008/04/bigsurbakery03.jpg\" alt=\"Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant menu\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The menu--which seems to change monthly--offers a handful of interesting salads and starters, five different pizzas (which looked amazing and which we vowed to try upon our return, and yes we will certainly be returning), a whole smattering of vegetable dishes (vegetarians take note: this place is an excellent choice for anyone who doesn't eat meat), and a well-thought-out selection of mains. In addition, there were two additional starters and mains on offer.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We started with one of the salad specials, a mound of microgreens grown and harvested just behind the restaurant, tender spring fava beans, baby asparagus, and fresh peas all lightly dressed with carrot-ginger vinaigrette. It was incredibly fresh, springtime on a plate. We also had a gorgeous salad of butter lettuce, microgreens, shaved fennel, pecorino, tarragon and lemon vinaigrette, which was perfectly balanced with fresh, tangy, sweet, and salty flavors.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The star of the evening had to be our main-dish special though: rabbit in the wood-fire oven, cooked two ways: roasted saddle of rabbit wrapped in Serrano ham and braised whole leg in au jus; served with French white beans, pancetta, carrots, and braised greens. It was so good in fact that we couldn't help but tell the tables next to us that they must order it. We also shared a grilled flatiron steak with red wine gravy and smashed Yukon gold potatoes, carrots, and braised fennel. The steak was tender and deeply flavored, but was a bit on the rare side (we had ordered medium-rare). The potatoes were a good choice, but neither of us loved the fennel and thought that could have been left out of the mix.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The wine list leans toward offerings from the central coast, with additional French and Italian wines. There are a decent number of wines available for under $40, but the prices go up rather quickly from there. We chose a gorgeous medium-bodied earthy Sicilian nero d'avola. Granted it was a abnormally warm evening, but the wine was served slightly on the warm side, a big peeve of mine. But the staff gladly chilled the wine for a minute and then it was perfect.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We finished with a brown butter rhubarb tart with brown butter ice cream and a tangy lemon pudding cake with lemon sorbet and huckleberries, both of which were perfect marriages of winter flavors (brown butter and citrus) meet early springtime fruits (rhubarb and huckleberries). We ordered a light moscato to pair alongside the dessert, but even though we reminded the waiter when the dishes arrived, the wine never did. Well, it did but only after we were long finished.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you can get past the service not being spot on, which in my opinion you should, and accept some less polished occasional missteps (but always with a smile and an apology!), then \u003cstrong>Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/strong> has a lot to offer. Romantic, tucked away, local and seasonal, and most of all superbly delicious.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.bigsurbakery.com/\">Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\nHighway One\u003cbr>\nBig Sur, CA 93920\u003cbr>\n831.667.0520\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=big+sur+bakery+and+restaurant&mrt=all&jsv=107&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=59.379225,70.400391&ie=UTF8&ll=56.170023,-107.929687&spn=43.39084,70.400391&z=4&iwloc=A\">map\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": "I stupidly made our reservation for 7:15pm, not even considering the fact that we might have wanted to see the magnificent Big Sur sunset from our perch at Nepenthe. (Sunset is currently at 7:27pm). I know, I know, kind of a cliché Big Sur "thing to do" but it was my husband's very first trip",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2008/04/bigsurbakery01.jpg\" alt=\"Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant sign\">\u003cbr>\nI stupidly made our reservation for 7:15pm, not even considering the fact that we might have wanted to see the magnificent Big Sur sunset from our perch at Nepenthe. (Sunset is currently at 7:27pm). I know, I know, kind of a cliché Big Sur \"thing to do\" but it was my husband's very first trip to the magical little coastal town of Big Sur and we were celebrating his 1-year anniversary of moving to the United States.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Upon recommendation from one of his basketball buddies, I had booked a table at the \u003ca href=\"http://www.bigsurbakery.com/\">Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/a>, a little gem that apparently has been around for awhile, but which I'd never noticed or even heard of (even though I've been to Big Sur countless times. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was an unseasonably warm evening and when we arrived the light was dusky and purple across the mountains behind us. The restaurant, even though it has quite a few windows, is cozy and dark and would make an excellent refuge from the typically foggy chilly weather I associate with that part of the coast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2008/04/bigsurbakery02.jpg\" alt=\"Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It wasn't terribly busy, but it did take quite some time for the waitstaff/owner/host to work out where we'd be seated. Don't get me wrong, everyone was exceedingly friendly the entire evening, but it was a bit of foreshadowing to a night of slightly confused service. (Just to explain before I go on, there were a few instances of forgetfulness, and a general lack of confidence by the waitstaff; the restaurant could benefit from clarifying everyone's roles and responsibilities.)\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.bigsurbakery.com/\">Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/a> has a wood-fire oven which takes center stage on the menu. They base much of their seasonal, organic menu on dishes that can be baked, roasted, or braised in the oven. They also have a wood-fired grill. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2008/04/bigsurbakery03.jpg\" alt=\"Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant menu\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The menu--which seems to change monthly--offers a handful of interesting salads and starters, five different pizzas (which looked amazing and which we vowed to try upon our return, and yes we will certainly be returning), a whole smattering of vegetable dishes (vegetarians take note: this place is an excellent choice for anyone who doesn't eat meat), and a well-thought-out selection of mains. In addition, there were two additional starters and mains on offer.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We started with one of the salad specials, a mound of microgreens grown and harvested just behind the restaurant, tender spring fava beans, baby asparagus, and fresh peas all lightly dressed with carrot-ginger vinaigrette. It was incredibly fresh, springtime on a plate. We also had a gorgeous salad of butter lettuce, microgreens, shaved fennel, pecorino, tarragon and lemon vinaigrette, which was perfectly balanced with fresh, tangy, sweet, and salty flavors.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The star of the evening had to be our main-dish special though: rabbit in the wood-fire oven, cooked two ways: roasted saddle of rabbit wrapped in Serrano ham and braised whole leg in au jus; served with French white beans, pancetta, carrots, and braised greens. It was so good in fact that we couldn't help but tell the tables next to us that they must order it. We also shared a grilled flatiron steak with red wine gravy and smashed Yukon gold potatoes, carrots, and braised fennel. The steak was tender and deeply flavored, but was a bit on the rare side (we had ordered medium-rare). The potatoes were a good choice, but neither of us loved the fennel and thought that could have been left out of the mix.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The wine list leans toward offerings from the central coast, with additional French and Italian wines. There are a decent number of wines available for under $40, but the prices go up rather quickly from there. We chose a gorgeous medium-bodied earthy Sicilian nero d'avola. Granted it was a abnormally warm evening, but the wine was served slightly on the warm side, a big peeve of mine. But the staff gladly chilled the wine for a minute and then it was perfect.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We finished with a brown butter rhubarb tart with brown butter ice cream and a tangy lemon pudding cake with lemon sorbet and huckleberries, both of which were perfect marriages of winter flavors (brown butter and citrus) meet early springtime fruits (rhubarb and huckleberries). We ordered a light moscato to pair alongside the dessert, but even though we reminded the waiter when the dishes arrived, the wine never did. Well, it did but only after we were long finished.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you can get past the service not being spot on, which in my opinion you should, and accept some less polished occasional missteps (but always with a smile and an apology!), then \u003cstrong>Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/strong> has a lot to offer. Romantic, tucked away, local and seasonal, and most of all superbly delicious.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.bigsurbakery.com/\">Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant\u003c/a>\u003cbr>\nHighway One\u003cbr>\nBig Sur, CA 93920\u003cbr>\n831.667.0520\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=big+sur+bakery+and+restaurant&mrt=all&jsv=107&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=59.379225,70.400391&ie=UTF8&ll=56.170023,-107.929687&spn=43.39084,70.400391&z=4&iwloc=A\">map\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenmaiser/2173163907/\">\u003cimg src=\"http://bp3.blogger.com/_3CJ3D3a-cUA/R_vLphNcn4I/AAAAAAAAACs/Me8NTuWLHHU/s320/barjules.jpg\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186963309997105026\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"The chestnut soup was good, but not Bar Jules good,\" a friend told me the other day. She was referring to a delicious chestnut and farro soup that we'd eaten at Bar Jules a couple of months back.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the time since Bar Jules opened in December, it has quickly become a place that I recommend to friends -- especially for its lovely weekend brunches. Chef Jessica Bonecutter is known around San Francisco, having chefed at \u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://www.hogislandoysters.com/v2/template1.php\">Hog Island Oyster Bar\u003c/a>\u003c/strong> and \u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://zunicafe.com/\">Zuni Cafe\u003c/a>\u003c/strong>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bar Jules has a stated commitment to sustainable practices and is buying most of their ingredients from local farmers and sustainable sources.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Entering Bar Jules, you will find several large chalkboards with the day's menu instead of paper menus. The small menu changes on a daily basis and is dependent on seasonal availability. As \u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://becksposhnosh.blogspot.com/2008/01/local-kitchen-bar-jules-spork-fish-farm.html\">Sam of Becks and Posh stated,\u003c/a>\u003c/strong> \"because of the limited options, this is not the place to take a fussy eater.\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you're not fussy, however, delights will abound. I seriously mourned the day that Desiree, my favorite breakfast location in the Presidio, closed a couple of years ago -- mostly because of their perfectly cooked eggs. The brunch that I had at Bar Jules came close to Desiree's taste -- scrambled eggs with sorrel and parmesan were on the menu the morning I went. While those were delicious, the hit of the table was poached eggs with lamb.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenmaiser/2388446037/\">\u003cimg src=\"http://bp1.blogger.com/_3CJ3D3a-cUA/R_vLqBNcn5I/AAAAAAAAAC0/nYGqAhjvMZQ/s320/mussels.jpg\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186963318587039634\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Last week, I returned to Bar Jules for lunch. I loved the \"mussels on the grill with paprika, garlic & lemon\" ($12). The mussels had a deep roasted flavor. I requested bread to dip into my mussel juices, and was given a perfectly grilled toast which went perfectly with the dish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even the drinks at Bar Jules are special. Beer and wine are available, along with a lovely rosebud tea, Blue Bottle Coffee and seasonal juices -- last week I had a delicious pomegranate spritzer.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Bar Jules menu changes daily, but the staff meticulously updates \u003ca href=\"http://barjules.com/index.html\">their web page\u003c/a> with the most current menu and prices. Bar Jules does not take reservations.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://commongroundmag.com/2008/02/tastebuds0802.html\">Common Ground on Bar Jules' sustainability practices\u003c/a>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://barjules.com/\">Bar Jules\u003c/a>\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n609 Hayes Street (at Laguna)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco\u003cbr>\n415-621-5482\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Dinner, Tuesday - Saturday\u003cbr>\nLunch, Wednesday - Saturday\u003cbr>\nBrunch, Sundays\u003cbr>\nClosed Mondays\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": ""The chestnut soup was good, but not Bar Jules good," a friend told me the other day. She was referring to a delicious chestnut and farro soup that we'd eaten at Bar Jules a couple of months back. In the time since Bar Jules opened in December, it has quickly become a place that I",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenmaiser/2173163907/\">\u003cimg src=\"http://bp3.blogger.com/_3CJ3D3a-cUA/R_vLphNcn4I/AAAAAAAAACs/Me8NTuWLHHU/s320/barjules.jpg\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186963309997105026\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"The chestnut soup was good, but not Bar Jules good,\" a friend told me the other day. She was referring to a delicious chestnut and farro soup that we'd eaten at Bar Jules a couple of months back.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the time since Bar Jules opened in December, it has quickly become a place that I recommend to friends -- especially for its lovely weekend brunches. Chef Jessica Bonecutter is known around San Francisco, having chefed at \u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://www.hogislandoysters.com/v2/template1.php\">Hog Island Oyster Bar\u003c/a>\u003c/strong> and \u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://zunicafe.com/\">Zuni Cafe\u003c/a>\u003c/strong>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bar Jules has a stated commitment to sustainable practices and is buying most of their ingredients from local farmers and sustainable sources.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Entering Bar Jules, you will find several large chalkboards with the day's menu instead of paper menus. The small menu changes on a daily basis and is dependent on seasonal availability. As \u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://becksposhnosh.blogspot.com/2008/01/local-kitchen-bar-jules-spork-fish-farm.html\">Sam of Becks and Posh stated,\u003c/a>\u003c/strong> \"because of the limited options, this is not the place to take a fussy eater.\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you're not fussy, however, delights will abound. I seriously mourned the day that Desiree, my favorite breakfast location in the Presidio, closed a couple of years ago -- mostly because of their perfectly cooked eggs. The brunch that I had at Bar Jules came close to Desiree's taste -- scrambled eggs with sorrel and parmesan were on the menu the morning I went. While those were delicious, the hit of the table was poached eggs with lamb.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenmaiser/2388446037/\">\u003cimg src=\"http://bp1.blogger.com/_3CJ3D3a-cUA/R_vLqBNcn5I/AAAAAAAAAC0/nYGqAhjvMZQ/s320/mussels.jpg\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186963318587039634\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Last week, I returned to Bar Jules for lunch. I loved the \"mussels on the grill with paprika, garlic & lemon\" ($12). The mussels had a deep roasted flavor. I requested bread to dip into my mussel juices, and was given a perfectly grilled toast which went perfectly with the dish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even the drinks at Bar Jules are special. Beer and wine are available, along with a lovely rosebud tea, Blue Bottle Coffee and seasonal juices -- last week I had a delicious pomegranate spritzer.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Bar Jules menu changes daily, but the staff meticulously updates \u003ca href=\"http://barjules.com/index.html\">their web page\u003c/a> with the most current menu and prices. Bar Jules does not take reservations.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://commongroundmag.com/2008/02/tastebuds0802.html\">Common Ground on Bar Jules' sustainability practices\u003c/a>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ca href=\"http://barjules.com/\">Bar Jules\u003c/a>\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n609 Hayes Street (at Laguna)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco\u003cbr>\n415-621-5482\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Dinner, Tuesday - Saturday\u003cbr>\nLunch, Wednesday - Saturday\u003cbr>\nBrunch, Sundays\u003cbr>\nClosed Mondays\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBIDTB0zI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Y76sX_pyGPM/s1600-h/ahwahnee.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBIDTB0zI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Y76sX_pyGPM/s400/ahwahnee.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Accommodations_TheAhwahnee.aspx\">Ahwahnee \u003c/a>is a special place for me. My husband proposed to me while cross-country skiing in the Yosemite Valley meadow and we ate at the Ahwahnee that night. A year or so later we then got married at the Ahwahnee and had our reception in the Solarium behind the Great Lounge. I love the architecture, Native American art and tapestries, and, of course, those amazing views of Yosemite Valley from every window. I also love eating in their dining room.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Ahwahnee was built in 1927, and since that time has offered visitors a fine dining (and hotel) experience in this treasure of a National park. The hotel and dining room itself are architecturally magnificent, with high wood-beamed ceilings, stone pillars, enormous windows looking out onto the valley and the enormous granite cliffs above it, and candles hung from immense candelabras. A large Steinway piano sits along one side and the restaurant offers music during dinner and special events. On our last visit, the piano player was kind enough to include renditions of Puff the Magic Dragon and the theme to Harry Potter, which delighted my daughters, along with some nice Cole Porter and Duke Ellington pieces.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBNDTB00I/AAAAAAAAAFs/S6zA1n0mks4/s1600-h/ahwah_table_view.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBNDTB00I/AAAAAAAAAFs/S6zA1n0mks4/s400/ahwah_table_view.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In addition to the views, architecture and ambiance, one of the things I appreciate about the Ahwahnee dining room is that they make an effort to offer organic and locally-grown ingredients. When I was there last week, the dinner menu had a paragraph at the bottom that said \"We are proud to present our seasonal dinner menu featuring both organic and sustainably harvested products. We source our meats and produce as local as possible and serve seafood listed on the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch List as 'Best Choices' or 'Good Alternatives.' Delaware North Companies Parks and Resorts is strongly committed to working in harmony with our environment to better service our guests.\" Last week, the menu included local chicken, trout from nearby streams, rabbit from the neighboring community of Turlock, and grass-fed beef. They also include some \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Dining_AhwahneeDiningRoom_Menu.aspx\">sample menus\u003c/a> online.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I have eaten at the Ahwahnee probably just under 10 times. I've had breakfast, lunch and dinner there and have always enjoyed my meal. My family and I were in Yosemite last week and spent an evening dining at the Ahwahnee followed by board games in the Great Lounge before we shuffled back to our accommodations at the Yosemite Lodge. We got to the dining room right when it opened for dinner. They sat us at a beautiful table near the back and next to a large window. Technically, long pants and jackets are required for men, but we saw plenty of people being ushered in wearing jeans and t-shirts. In some online reviews I read, a few people were irritated that the dining staff sat people who weren't dressed according to the rules, but this has never bothered me. The hotel is in a National park and I like that they don't get too caught up in the ceremony of how one is supposed to dress for dinner. Also, I've seen men seated at many other nice restaurants without jackets, so I can't get irritated about this happening in Yosemite.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBiDTB02I/AAAAAAAAAF8/RyMsb7WO2gM/s1600-h/salad.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBiDTB02I/AAAAAAAAAF8/RyMsb7WO2gM/s400/salad.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>During our dining experience last week, my husband and I decided that after a day of skiing at Badger Pass, we were too tired to split a bottle of wine, so we each ordered a glass from the \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Dining_AhwahneeDiningRoom_WineList.aspx\">wine menu\u003c/a>. I then chose to start my dinner with a baby iceberg lettuce wedge that had Chiogga beets, shaved onion, and Point Reyes blue cheese dressing. The salad was crisp, the dressing creamy and sharp without being overt, and the beets were sweet and perfectly cooked. My husband ordered the Caesar salad, which looked equally delicious, although I was so focused on my own salad that I forgot to take a bite. Our daughters, who ordered from the children's menu, each received a very pretty fruit cup.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBpTTB03I/AAAAAAAAAGE/ADJ9Td9Q9Fw/s1600-h/fruit_cup.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBpTTB03I/AAAAAAAAAGE/ADJ9Td9Q9Fw/s400/fruit_cup.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For dinner, I ordered the Braised Snake River Farms Kobe beef cheeks. I was surprised and excited when I found that they served the cheeks two ways on the plate. One piece was cooked to the point of falling apart, in some sort of reddish sauce and served on top of an heirloom squash puree. I asked our waiter what was in the sauce, but he wasn't sure. The other beef cheek was also braised, although it held its shape and was firmer than the other one. It was served with a garlic and tomato jam, which was sweet and a perfect accompaniment to the beef, and sat atop a mound of creamed spinach. Unlike most creamed spinach, which is often gloppy, this version seemed just barely cooked within the sauce, with each leaf retaining its shape and texture. It was delicious. In between the two beef cheeks were some shaved and fried parsnips, adding a crunchy and slightly salty accent to the other flavors on the plate. Overall, this was a great entrée and I really loved it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBYjTB01I/AAAAAAAAAF0/nzBx-hApt2k/s1600-h/beefcheeks.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBYjTB01I/AAAAAAAAAF0/nzBx-hApt2k/s400/beefcheeks.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My husband ordered the braised Niman pork osso bucco served with a soft polenta and cauliflower, which was also delicious (although I must say I think the beef cheeks were better). For our daughters, we went with the kids breaded chicken tenders. I normally hate kids' menu chicken tenders, because they are often processed bits of chicken with a tasteless coating. The Ahwahnee's chicken tenders, however, were in a kids-menu class all their own. They were real chicken breast tenders coated in a flavorful crust similar to the kind you'd find on a nice piece of fried chicken.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rCGzTB05I/AAAAAAAAAGU/9NJUWiUyKSo/s1600-h/kids.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rCGzTB05I/AAAAAAAAAGU/9NJUWiUyKSo/s400/kids.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For dessert, I had a chocolate flourless cake embedded in a chilled chocolate ganache and served with ice cream. Although it was delicious (and very pretty on the plate) it was incredibly rich and I could only eat a few bites.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rB2TTB04I/AAAAAAAAAGM/APLTt8rT1FM/s1600-h/dessert.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rB2TTB04I/AAAAAAAAAGM/APLTt8rT1FM/s400/dessert.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My husband ordered the boysenberry pie, which had a nicely crisp crust and great berry flavor. All the entrées were between $25 - $46. Our total bill, which included our salads, meals and desserts, along with two glasses of wine and three glasses of juice for the kids, was $140.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On each of our visits, I've found the service to be friendly and professional. The waiters sometimes are not fully informed about the food and, on a busy night, the attention you get can be a little spotty, but this doesn't bother me as the service has never been bad and I'm there for the experience of eating in a beautiful historic hotel under half dome. The staff has also always been very friendly to my children, which I appreciate.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Ahwahnee Dining Room offers daily breakfast, lunch and dinner, along with an elaborate Sunday Brunch. They also have a few yearly dining extravaganzas, such as the Bracebridge Dinner each December, which is a four-hour Renaissance pageant in the dining room that includes an elaborate seven-course banquet. I've always thought this would be sort of fun to attend, but the cost is a bit much. A package deal that includes a two-night stay at the Ahwahnee along with the Bracebridge Dinner is $1,634 for two people. If you stay at the Yosemite Lodge, it's $1,126. With four people in my family, we won't be going any time soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So if you find yourself in Yosemite, and have a little spare cash for your next meal, try the Ahwahnee dining room. It is truly an experience worth having.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For more information about the Ahwahnee, or to make reservations, just go to their \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Dining_AhwahneeDiningRoom.aspx\">web site\u003c/a>, or call (209) 372-1489.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": "The Ahwahnee is a special place for me. My husband proposed to me while cross-country skiing in the Yosemite Valley meadow and we ate at the Ahwahnee that night. A year or so later we then got married at the Ahwahnee and had our reception in the Solarium behind the Great Lounge. I love the",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBIDTB0zI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Y76sX_pyGPM/s1600-h/ahwahnee.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBIDTB0zI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Y76sX_pyGPM/s400/ahwahnee.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Accommodations_TheAhwahnee.aspx\">Ahwahnee \u003c/a>is a special place for me. My husband proposed to me while cross-country skiing in the Yosemite Valley meadow and we ate at the Ahwahnee that night. A year or so later we then got married at the Ahwahnee and had our reception in the Solarium behind the Great Lounge. I love the architecture, Native American art and tapestries, and, of course, those amazing views of Yosemite Valley from every window. I also love eating in their dining room.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Ahwahnee was built in 1927, and since that time has offered visitors a fine dining (and hotel) experience in this treasure of a National park. The hotel and dining room itself are architecturally magnificent, with high wood-beamed ceilings, stone pillars, enormous windows looking out onto the valley and the enormous granite cliffs above it, and candles hung from immense candelabras. A large Steinway piano sits along one side and the restaurant offers music during dinner and special events. On our last visit, the piano player was kind enough to include renditions of Puff the Magic Dragon and the theme to Harry Potter, which delighted my daughters, along with some nice Cole Porter and Duke Ellington pieces.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBNDTB00I/AAAAAAAAAFs/S6zA1n0mks4/s1600-h/ahwah_table_view.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBNDTB00I/AAAAAAAAAFs/S6zA1n0mks4/s400/ahwah_table_view.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In addition to the views, architecture and ambiance, one of the things I appreciate about the Ahwahnee dining room is that they make an effort to offer organic and locally-grown ingredients. When I was there last week, the dinner menu had a paragraph at the bottom that said \"We are proud to present our seasonal dinner menu featuring both organic and sustainably harvested products. We source our meats and produce as local as possible and serve seafood listed on the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch List as 'Best Choices' or 'Good Alternatives.' Delaware North Companies Parks and Resorts is strongly committed to working in harmony with our environment to better service our guests.\" Last week, the menu included local chicken, trout from nearby streams, rabbit from the neighboring community of Turlock, and grass-fed beef. They also include some \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Dining_AhwahneeDiningRoom_Menu.aspx\">sample menus\u003c/a> online.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I have eaten at the Ahwahnee probably just under 10 times. I've had breakfast, lunch and dinner there and have always enjoyed my meal. My family and I were in Yosemite last week and spent an evening dining at the Ahwahnee followed by board games in the Great Lounge before we shuffled back to our accommodations at the Yosemite Lodge. We got to the dining room right when it opened for dinner. They sat us at a beautiful table near the back and next to a large window. Technically, long pants and jackets are required for men, but we saw plenty of people being ushered in wearing jeans and t-shirts. In some online reviews I read, a few people were irritated that the dining staff sat people who weren't dressed according to the rules, but this has never bothered me. The hotel is in a National park and I like that they don't get too caught up in the ceremony of how one is supposed to dress for dinner. Also, I've seen men seated at many other nice restaurants without jackets, so I can't get irritated about this happening in Yosemite.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBiDTB02I/AAAAAAAAAF8/RyMsb7WO2gM/s1600-h/salad.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBiDTB02I/AAAAAAAAAF8/RyMsb7WO2gM/s400/salad.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>During our dining experience last week, my husband and I decided that after a day of skiing at Badger Pass, we were too tired to split a bottle of wine, so we each ordered a glass from the \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Dining_AhwahneeDiningRoom_WineList.aspx\">wine menu\u003c/a>. I then chose to start my dinner with a baby iceberg lettuce wedge that had Chiogga beets, shaved onion, and Point Reyes blue cheese dressing. The salad was crisp, the dressing creamy and sharp without being overt, and the beets were sweet and perfectly cooked. My husband ordered the Caesar salad, which looked equally delicious, although I was so focused on my own salad that I forgot to take a bite. Our daughters, who ordered from the children's menu, each received a very pretty fruit cup.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBpTTB03I/AAAAAAAAAGE/ADJ9Td9Q9Fw/s1600-h/fruit_cup.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBpTTB03I/AAAAAAAAAGE/ADJ9Td9Q9Fw/s400/fruit_cup.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For dinner, I ordered the Braised Snake River Farms Kobe beef cheeks. I was surprised and excited when I found that they served the cheeks two ways on the plate. One piece was cooked to the point of falling apart, in some sort of reddish sauce and served on top of an heirloom squash puree. I asked our waiter what was in the sauce, but he wasn't sure. The other beef cheek was also braised, although it held its shape and was firmer than the other one. It was served with a garlic and tomato jam, which was sweet and a perfect accompaniment to the beef, and sat atop a mound of creamed spinach. Unlike most creamed spinach, which is often gloppy, this version seemed just barely cooked within the sauce, with each leaf retaining its shape and texture. It was delicious. In between the two beef cheeks were some shaved and fried parsnips, adding a crunchy and slightly salty accent to the other flavors on the plate. Overall, this was a great entrée and I really loved it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBYjTB01I/AAAAAAAAAF0/nzBx-hApt2k/s1600-h/beefcheeks.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rBYjTB01I/AAAAAAAAAF0/nzBx-hApt2k/s400/beefcheeks.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My husband ordered the braised Niman pork osso bucco served with a soft polenta and cauliflower, which was also delicious (although I must say I think the beef cheeks were better). For our daughters, we went with the kids breaded chicken tenders. I normally hate kids' menu chicken tenders, because they are often processed bits of chicken with a tasteless coating. The Ahwahnee's chicken tenders, however, were in a kids-menu class all their own. They were real chicken breast tenders coated in a flavorful crust similar to the kind you'd find on a nice piece of fried chicken.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rCGzTB05I/AAAAAAAAAGU/9NJUWiUyKSo/s1600-h/kids.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rCGzTB05I/AAAAAAAAAGU/9NJUWiUyKSo/s400/kids.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For dessert, I had a chocolate flourless cake embedded in a chilled chocolate ganache and served with ice cream. Although it was delicious (and very pretty on the plate) it was incredibly rich and I could only eat a few bites.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rB2TTB04I/AAAAAAAAAGM/APLTt8rT1FM/s1600-h/dessert.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_tOgNuMWXhTk/R-rB2TTB04I/AAAAAAAAAGM/APLTt8rT1FM/s400/dessert.jpg\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My husband ordered the boysenberry pie, which had a nicely crisp crust and great berry flavor. All the entrées were between $25 - $46. Our total bill, which included our salads, meals and desserts, along with two glasses of wine and three glasses of juice for the kids, was $140.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On each of our visits, I've found the service to be friendly and professional. The waiters sometimes are not fully informed about the food and, on a busy night, the attention you get can be a little spotty, but this doesn't bother me as the service has never been bad and I'm there for the experience of eating in a beautiful historic hotel under half dome. The staff has also always been very friendly to my children, which I appreciate.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Ahwahnee Dining Room offers daily breakfast, lunch and dinner, along with an elaborate Sunday Brunch. They also have a few yearly dining extravaganzas, such as the Bracebridge Dinner each December, which is a four-hour Renaissance pageant in the dining room that includes an elaborate seven-course banquet. I've always thought this would be sort of fun to attend, but the cost is a bit much. A package deal that includes a two-night stay at the Ahwahnee along with the Bracebridge Dinner is $1,634 for two people. If you stay at the Yosemite Lodge, it's $1,126. With four people in my family, we won't be going any time soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So if you find yourself in Yosemite, and have a little spare cash for your next meal, try the Ahwahnee dining room. It is truly an experience worth having.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For more information about the Ahwahnee, or to make reservations, just go to their \u003ca href=\"http://www.yosemitepark.com/Dining_AhwahneeDiningRoom.aspx\">web site\u003c/a>, or call (209) 372-1489.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "BO-DE-GA: Food Choices at the Corner Store",
"title": "BO-DE-GA: Food Choices at the Corner Store",
"headTitle": "Bay Area Bites | KQED Food",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cobject width=\"425\" height=\"355\">\u003cparam name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/11nsZ3lEWD0&hl=en\">\u003cparam name=\"wmode\" value=\"transparent\">\u003cembed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/11nsZ3lEWD0&hl=en\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" wmode=\"transparent\" width=\"425\" height=\"355\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/object>\u003cstrong>Bodega: The Bronx\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Laughs are few and far between for anyone who works in that tough corner of the food world where food security, public health, and urban development issues intersect. Fortunately, the dynamic duo of Dallas Penn and Rafi Kam have been making short, sharp, and extremely funny documentaries about shopping and eating in urban neighborhoods, including this short on bodegas, those infamous corner stores.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://dallaspenn.com/weblog/?page_id=3\">\u003cstrong>Dallas Penn\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> blogs about music, sports, politics and whatever else strikes his fancy (tags include \"Black Bullshit\" and \"Wig Owners\" and \"Social Upheaval\"). His partner in comedy, Rafi Kam, \u003ca href=\"http://www.ohword.com/reviews\">\u003cstrong>reviews albums\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> and writes features about topics like \u003ca href=\"http://www.ohword.com/gallery3/804/living-with-baduizm\">\u003cstrong>Baduizm\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, a contagious disease that strikes the nerve endings of rap artists.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Together, they tackle the finer points of the Bodega Food Pyramid. This short film is a refreshing break from the boring, depressing, and thoroughly condescending material that comes out of many public health agencies. It somehow manages to be affectionately searing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For anyone out there who has wondered why \"certain communities\" don't buy organic fruit or eat more salads, this will be an educational feature. For those who grew up in the Bronx or East St. Louis or South Central L.A., this documentary will hit close--perhaps too close--to home and heart.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Here in Bayview Hunters Point, nonprofit organizations and city agencies have been trying to spread good food with the \u003ca href=\"http://ola.wkkf.org/fasupdate/2006/february/feature.html\">\u003cstrong>Good Neighbor\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> project. UK-based \u003ca href=\"http://www.tesco.com/storelocator/\">\u003cstrong>Tesco\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> is eyeing a space for one of their newly polished \u003ca href=\"http://www.freshandeasy.com/\">\u003cstrong>Fresh&Easy\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> markets, grocery stores with smaller footprints that are positioned to enter under-served neighborhoods. There's been some back and forth, though, as the company has been hesitating to agree to community standards that might cut into their profits. Neighbors are asking them to not sell hard liquor, but Tesco is loathe to give up the very high margins of the alcohol aisle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At a policy symposium last year, I listened as their frontman pointed out how grateful we should all be that they're even considering opening a full-service grocery store and creating jobs in a poverty-ridden food dessert. Ask some of the locals, though, how happy they are to have their requests ignored.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And watch Penn and Kam's \"Bodega\" to understand, with a smile, what is at stake.\u003cbr>\n\u003cobject width=\"425\" height=\"355\">\u003cparam name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/qJ73VPPD46w&hl=en\">\u003cparam name=\"wmode\" value=\"transparent\">\u003cembed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/qJ73VPPD46w&hl=en\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" wmode=\"transparent\" width=\"425\" height=\"355\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/object>\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Bodega: The Tenderloin\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On a complete tangent, the title of the film reminds me of a Vietnamese restaurant on Larkin Street in San Francisco (another neighborhood that also happens to be facing the community upheavals accompanying many urban redevelopment projects). Yes, service is spotty. And yes, the food is not good across the board. But it's one of those neighborhood places that has lingered through change and remained popular through several face-lifts and menu tweaks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bodega Bistro used to actually serve all three: bo (beef), de (goat) and ga (chicken). Hand-penned signs taped to the wall once advertised their special goat stew, but those are long gone. The name of the restaurant stuck, though, and its menu offers the usual suspects. One dish worth highlighting, though, is bun cha, a specialty of Hanoi.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For first-timers, it might be a bit confusing when the order arrives. A plate of greens and herbs piled high. Some plain rice noodles. Some meat submerged in clear broth. And an empty bowl. None of it looks particular appetizing on its own, but it's culinary magic when the layers of flavors and textures meld together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Like many Vietnamese meals, it's all up to the diner. Combine small amounts of each ingredient in your own bowl, then drizzle a spoonful of sauce over all. If you've ordered any type of bun, the refreshing cold noodle salads that's a popular lunch item in Vietnam, then you'll have an idea of what bun cha can be. It's more formal, however, and when done well, truly memorable. The cut and quality of the meat and the freshness of the herbs are what determine the best versions. I wish the food were more consistent here, but two out of three times, it hits the spot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now, if only Bodega would bring back its second-syllable goat dishes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Bodega Bistro\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n607 Larkin Street\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94199\u003cbr>\n(415) 921-1218\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?q=607%20Larkin%20St%2C%20San%20Francisco%2C%20CA%2094199\">\u003cstrong>Google Map\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Here in Bayview Hunters Point, nonprofit organizations and city agencies have been trying to spread good food with the \u003ca href=\"http://ola.wkkf.org/fasupdate/2006/february/feature.html\">\u003cstrong>Good Neighbor\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> project. UK-based \u003ca href=\"http://www.tesco.com/storelocator/\">\u003cstrong>Tesco\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> is eyeing a space for one of their newly polished \u003ca href=\"http://www.freshandeasy.com/\">\u003cstrong>Fresh&Easy\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> markets, grocery stores with smaller footprints that are positioned to enter under-served neighborhoods. There's been some back and forth, though, as the company has been hesitating to agree to community standards that might cut into their profits. Neighbors are asking them to not sell hard liquor, but Tesco is loathe to give up the very high margins of the alcohol aisle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At a policy symposium last year, I listened as their frontman pointed out how grateful we should all be that they're even considering opening a full-service grocery store and creating jobs in a poverty-ridden food dessert. Ask some of the locals, though, how happy they are to have their requests ignored.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And watch Penn and Kam's \"Bodega\" to understand, with a smile, what is at stake.\u003cbr>\n\u003cobject width=\"425\" height=\"355\">\u003cparam name=\"movie\" value=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/qJ73VPPD46w&hl=en\">\u003cparam name=\"wmode\" value=\"transparent\">\u003cembed src=\"http://www.youtube.com/v/qJ73VPPD46w&hl=en\" type=\"application/x-shockwave-flash\" wmode=\"transparent\" width=\"425\" height=\"355\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/object>\u003cbr>\n\u003cstrong>Bodega: The Tenderloin\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On a complete tangent, the title of the film reminds me of a Vietnamese restaurant on Larkin Street in San Francisco (another neighborhood that also happens to be facing the community upheavals accompanying many urban redevelopment projects). Yes, service is spotty. And yes, the food is not good across the board. But it's one of those neighborhood places that has lingered through change and remained popular through several face-lifts and menu tweaks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bodega Bistro used to actually serve all three: bo (beef), de (goat) and ga (chicken). Hand-penned signs taped to the wall once advertised their special goat stew, but those are long gone. The name of the restaurant stuck, though, and its menu offers the usual suspects. One dish worth highlighting, though, is bun cha, a specialty of Hanoi.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For first-timers, it might be a bit confusing when the order arrives. A plate of greens and herbs piled high. Some plain rice noodles. Some meat submerged in clear broth. And an empty bowl. None of it looks particular appetizing on its own, but it's culinary magic when the layers of flavors and textures meld together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Like many Vietnamese meals, it's all up to the diner. Combine small amounts of each ingredient in your own bowl, then drizzle a spoonful of sauce over all. If you've ordered any type of bun, the refreshing cold noodle salads that's a popular lunch item in Vietnam, then you'll have an idea of what bun cha can be. It's more formal, however, and when done well, truly memorable. The cut and quality of the meat and the freshness of the herbs are what determine the best versions. I wish the food were more consistent here, but two out of three times, it hits the spot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now, if only Bodega would bring back its second-syllable goat dishes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Bodega Bistro\u003c/strong>\u003cbr>\n607 Larkin Street\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94199\u003cbr>\n(415) 921-1218\u003cbr>\n\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?q=607%20Larkin%20St%2C%20San%20Francisco%2C%20CA%2094199\">\u003cstrong>Google Map\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Brenda's French Soul Food",
"title": "Brenda's French Soul Food",
"headTitle": "Bay Area Bites | KQED Food",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laJ59ujBI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/sFGueY4wZig/s1600-h/brendawindow.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laJ59ujBI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/sFGueY4wZig/s320/brendawindow.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My friend Mark, who knows about everything before I do, has been wanting to go to \u003ca href=\"http://www.frenchsoulfood.com/breakfast.htm\">Brenda's French Soul Food\u003c/a> for months. He planned to take some people to brunch there a few Sundays ago. It was, however, closed. They don't do Sunday brunch. Who can blame them? Unless \u003ca href=\"http://www.harrydenton.com/index.php?page=events&event=drag\">drag queens\u003c/a> are somehow involved, the thought of Sunday brunch makes me cringe. The two of us hoped to have dinner at Brenda's last week. The only glitch in that little plan was this: Brenda's doesn't serve dinner. Rather than being miffed, I found that news heartwarming.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I was a young and foolish California Culinary Academy student, one of my courses called for creating a restaurant business plan. My teammates and I decided that a breakfast and lunch-only venue would suit our tastes just fine, since you can really mark up egg dishes. We'd be doing what we loved-- serving up great food, but we'd have our evenings free-- enabling us to have a relatively normal social life. We could have our pancake, as it were, and eat it, too.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Brenda's, then, is a place after my own heart. It's exactly what I'd want to do if I were crazy enough to run a restaurant.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Located at 652 Polk Street between Eddy and Turk, Brenda's shares a stretch of road with two other food venues. On its right is Kentucky Fried Chicken-- a place of no culinary pretensions whatsoever. To its left and across the street is the California Culinary Academy-- a sad, musty diploma mill that churns out nothing but culinary pretension every few weeks. Hovering somewhere pleasantly in the middle, Brenda's has not disturbed that delicate balance of the block in the least. What it has done, thankfully, is bring great food to the neighborhood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I arrived at Brenda's on Wednesday morning, I was told I might sit wherever I liked by a tall, thin gentleman with a scruffy beard who was, it would seem, the sole server on the floor. I took a small table near the door, where I could have a clear view of the customers around me.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The restaurant is small. Two white-clothed tables for four in the center of the room, one small table in the window, and five small tables along the left wall.Counter stools populate the right wall, just below a bank of mirrors which runs the entire length of the place.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laap9ujFI/AAAAAAAAAQw/nuH5TG4RQZ0/s1600-h/tablewaiting.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laap9ujFI/AAAAAAAAAQw/nuH5TG4RQZ0/s320/tablewaiting.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I ordered a coffee and dug into my portable Sherlock Holmes, which I placed on top of my little notebook. To my left was a man about my age with a scruffy beard, also reading, but near the end of his meal. Looking at my notebook and camera, he asked me if I was going to do a write up on the place. I cringed at my obviousness. That and the fact that every man in the place, including myself, was wearing a scruffy beard. I lied to him and took another sip of coffee.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There were two men sitting in the window. One was a handsome fifty-something Frenchman . His non-French breakfast companion was rattling on loudly about Napa wineries, San Francisco restaurants and who he knew just about everywhere else. Fortunately, he made his great show of saying goodbye to Brenda before I started eating.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I asked my server which beignets he thought were best. He suggested I try the beignet flight ($8.00) and decide for myself. I did.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laZZ9ujDI/AAAAAAAAAQg/fdASdcW2c5I/s1600-h/beignets.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laZZ9ujDI/AAAAAAAAAQg/fdASdcW2c5I/s320/beignets.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>From fore-to-background in the photo above: plain, Granny Smith apple with cinnamon honey butter, molten Ghiradelli chocolate, and crawfish with cayenne, scallions, and cheddar. It is the order in which I ate them. My server stated that people normally consumed the crawfish first. I am delighted that I didn't, because it was by far my favorite-- the chewy sweetness of the crawfish popping every so often through the ooze of the cheese, the heat of the cayenne, and the sharpness of the scallion. I am already planning my return to have a full meal of them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>They were all quite good, really. The apple beignets weren't overly sweet. They had a subtle saltiness to them I found appealing. I'm not an expert on these pastries, per se, and I've heard some people (Yelpers) whine that beignets in New Orleans are normally much bigger and cheaper. I would hardly call the portions here small. Or over priced. In fact, nothing at Brenda's is more than $10.00.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wondering what to order next, I asked my server's opinion on the matter. Mentioning that I was intrigued by the Pineapple Upside Down Pancakes with Vanilla Bean Cream and Ginger Butter, he said that, while they were great, I might not want them after so much beignet. He was right, of course. When I asked about the Hangtown Fry special I noticed written in white grease pen on the mirror across the way, he smiled. That's all I needed. \u003ca href=\"http://kqedbayareabites.blogspot.com/2007/11/hangtown-fry.jsp\">It doesn't take much arm-twisting to get me to order a Hangtown Fry.\u003c/a> \"Grits or potatoes?\" he asked. \"I'm kind of a potato guy,\" I said. I saw his smile fade a little. \"But, I suppose I'd better have the grits, right?\" His face brightened. I was grateful for my ability to read social cues. I told him I'd keep the menu, in case I wanted to order anything more.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laaJ9ujEI/AAAAAAAAAQo/78OQvqjReiE/s1600-h/grits.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laaJ9ujEI/AAAAAAAAAQo/78OQvqjReiE/s320/grits.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It is obvious from the above photo where I placed the most of my gustatory enthusiasm. The grits. Buttery, lightly peppery, and just salty enough. The pat of butter I was given may have been intended for the biscuit, but mine ended up on the grits. I did not ask for instructions.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I never knew I liked grits. In fact, my two or three previous experiences with the dish had left me rather bored. In my thoughts, grits were an unseen province of salty, beehived situation comedy diner waitresses and they were meant to be kissed in some kind of submissive fashion. Well, I kissed Brenda's grits, and I'll kiss them again, happily.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While I was tucking into the fry, a man and woman dressed in chef whites wandered into Brenda's from the Culinary Academy. I thought how sad it was that they couldn't find anything worth eating over there. The man, I noticed, had one bright blue eye and one of milky hazel. I got caught looking, so I initiated a brief conversation with them about the school. I admitted my status as an alumnus and warned them to keep a wary eye out for people who do not understand the etiquette involved in walking around a busy kitchen with 10\" chef knives. Their reaction to the pitying look on my face when I was told that tuition at the school had nearly tripled since my graduation eleven years ago indicated to me that our little interview should end as quickly as possible. I went back to reading The Adventure of the Copper Beeches and stuffing my face.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As I sat eating and reading, another man of my approximate age and scruffiness sat at the table beside mine. I really must shave. Unlike his predecessor, he seemed uneasy in his status as a single diner. He tapped is fingers and wagged his foot as though it had fallen asleep within the first ninety seconds of his being in a seated position. When his eyes weren't darting about the place, they were fixed upon his iPhone. I didn't know whether to laugh (on the inside) or cry. Few people seem really at ease with dining alone. It made me mildly depressed, but it did give me an idea for another blog post, which made me mildly cheerful.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Hangtown fry itself was good, loaded as it was with salty, smoked bacon and fresh, fried oysters. But my delicate, hummingbird frame was challenged by the enormous portions of both dishes tried. Delicate, too, was the biscuit-- the flavor of fresh butter melted in my mouth as is the way with the good ones and it had a flakiness that, had the biscuit taken a human form, might be diagnosed as Brittle Bone Disease by medical students. I mean that in a good way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I was unable to finish my meal, being as well-stuffed as one of those beignets from earlier in the meal. I took my remaining victuals home and had them for lunch. The grits were good even then, served cold.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My server returned, looked at the menu still placed on the table, and said, smiling, \"Are you still planning on ordering more?\" My brain said yes, but my stomach disagreed. I looked out the window at the Eastern Park Apartments, a retirement home that is neither in the East nor anywhere near a park. I thought to myself that, if I kept eating like this, I might not live to an age which might necessitate my inhabiting such a place. I sided with my stomach and asked, instead, for the check.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laKZ9ujCI/AAAAAAAAAQY/y3OB_REGKRM/s1600-h/brendabill.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laKZ9ujCI/AAAAAAAAAQY/y3OB_REGKRM/s320/brendabill.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now, I do not know Brenda Buenviaje, namesake of the restaurant. I chose not to introduce myself nor ask questions during my first visit. My photo-taking and journal entries made me look idiotic enough. When I took a closer look at \u003ca href=\"http://www.frenchsoulfood.com/about.htm\">Brenda's website\u003c/a>, I read her profile and had a better clue as to why the food made me happy-- she is a former head chef of Sumi (the only good restaurant in the Castro, as far as I'm concerned) and of Cafe Claude (my I'm- hungry-and-tired-of-watching-other-people-shop/ I-need-a-drink place of choice). She looks like someone I might like to sit down with over a glass of wine. I only hope, should that occur, that I can stifle my desire to blurt out grits-kissing remarks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'll be back to Brenda's, and soon. There's a lot there that I still need to try, like the Grillades and Grits, the Egg and Bacon Tartine, and those Pineapple Upside Down Pancakes. But really, it's that crawdaddy beignet. Second only to relieving my bladder, it was the first thing I thought about this morning. Really, I swear.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.frenchsoulfood.com/\">Brenda's French Soul Food\u003c/a> is located at:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>652 Polk Street (at Eddy)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94102\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Telephone: (415) 345-8100\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hours of Operation:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Breakfast is served Monday through Friday from 8 am to 3 pm.\u003cbr>\nLunch is served Monday through Friday from 11(ish) to 3 pm.\u003cbr>\nBrunch is served on Saturdays from 8 am to 3 pm.\u003cbr>\nClosed, for now, on Sundays.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": "My friend Mark, who knows about everything before I do, has been wanting to go to Brenda's French Soul Food for months. He planned to take some people to brunch there a few Sundays ago. It was, however, closed. They don't do Sunday brunch. Who can blame them? Unless drag queens are somehow involved, the",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laJ59ujBI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/sFGueY4wZig/s1600-h/brendawindow.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laJ59ujBI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/sFGueY4wZig/s320/brendawindow.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My friend Mark, who knows about everything before I do, has been wanting to go to \u003ca href=\"http://www.frenchsoulfood.com/breakfast.htm\">Brenda's French Soul Food\u003c/a> for months. He planned to take some people to brunch there a few Sundays ago. It was, however, closed. They don't do Sunday brunch. Who can blame them? Unless \u003ca href=\"http://www.harrydenton.com/index.php?page=events&event=drag\">drag queens\u003c/a> are somehow involved, the thought of Sunday brunch makes me cringe. The two of us hoped to have dinner at Brenda's last week. The only glitch in that little plan was this: Brenda's doesn't serve dinner. Rather than being miffed, I found that news heartwarming.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I was a young and foolish California Culinary Academy student, one of my courses called for creating a restaurant business plan. My teammates and I decided that a breakfast and lunch-only venue would suit our tastes just fine, since you can really mark up egg dishes. We'd be doing what we loved-- serving up great food, but we'd have our evenings free-- enabling us to have a relatively normal social life. We could have our pancake, as it were, and eat it, too.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Brenda's, then, is a place after my own heart. It's exactly what I'd want to do if I were crazy enough to run a restaurant.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Located at 652 Polk Street between Eddy and Turk, Brenda's shares a stretch of road with two other food venues. On its right is Kentucky Fried Chicken-- a place of no culinary pretensions whatsoever. To its left and across the street is the California Culinary Academy-- a sad, musty diploma mill that churns out nothing but culinary pretension every few weeks. Hovering somewhere pleasantly in the middle, Brenda's has not disturbed that delicate balance of the block in the least. What it has done, thankfully, is bring great food to the neighborhood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I arrived at Brenda's on Wednesday morning, I was told I might sit wherever I liked by a tall, thin gentleman with a scruffy beard who was, it would seem, the sole server on the floor. I took a small table near the door, where I could have a clear view of the customers around me.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The restaurant is small. Two white-clothed tables for four in the center of the room, one small table in the window, and five small tables along the left wall.Counter stools populate the right wall, just below a bank of mirrors which runs the entire length of the place.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laap9ujFI/AAAAAAAAAQw/nuH5TG4RQZ0/s1600-h/tablewaiting.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laap9ujFI/AAAAAAAAAQw/nuH5TG4RQZ0/s320/tablewaiting.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I ordered a coffee and dug into my portable Sherlock Holmes, which I placed on top of my little notebook. To my left was a man about my age with a scruffy beard, also reading, but near the end of his meal. Looking at my notebook and camera, he asked me if I was going to do a write up on the place. I cringed at my obviousness. That and the fact that every man in the place, including myself, was wearing a scruffy beard. I lied to him and took another sip of coffee.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There were two men sitting in the window. One was a handsome fifty-something Frenchman . His non-French breakfast companion was rattling on loudly about Napa wineries, San Francisco restaurants and who he knew just about everywhere else. Fortunately, he made his great show of saying goodbye to Brenda before I started eating.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I asked my server which beignets he thought were best. He suggested I try the beignet flight ($8.00) and decide for myself. I did.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laZZ9ujDI/AAAAAAAAAQg/fdASdcW2c5I/s1600-h/beignets.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laZZ9ujDI/AAAAAAAAAQg/fdASdcW2c5I/s320/beignets.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>From fore-to-background in the photo above: plain, Granny Smith apple with cinnamon honey butter, molten Ghiradelli chocolate, and crawfish with cayenne, scallions, and cheddar. It is the order in which I ate them. My server stated that people normally consumed the crawfish first. I am delighted that I didn't, because it was by far my favorite-- the chewy sweetness of the crawfish popping every so often through the ooze of the cheese, the heat of the cayenne, and the sharpness of the scallion. I am already planning my return to have a full meal of them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>They were all quite good, really. The apple beignets weren't overly sweet. They had a subtle saltiness to them I found appealing. I'm not an expert on these pastries, per se, and I've heard some people (Yelpers) whine that beignets in New Orleans are normally much bigger and cheaper. I would hardly call the portions here small. Or over priced. In fact, nothing at Brenda's is more than $10.00.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wondering what to order next, I asked my server's opinion on the matter. Mentioning that I was intrigued by the Pineapple Upside Down Pancakes with Vanilla Bean Cream and Ginger Butter, he said that, while they were great, I might not want them after so much beignet. He was right, of course. When I asked about the Hangtown Fry special I noticed written in white grease pen on the mirror across the way, he smiled. That's all I needed. \u003ca href=\"http://kqedbayareabites.blogspot.com/2007/11/hangtown-fry.jsp\">It doesn't take much arm-twisting to get me to order a Hangtown Fry.\u003c/a> \"Grits or potatoes?\" he asked. \"I'm kind of a potato guy,\" I said. I saw his smile fade a little. \"But, I suppose I'd better have the grits, right?\" His face brightened. I was grateful for my ability to read social cues. I told him I'd keep the menu, in case I wanted to order anything more.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laaJ9ujEI/AAAAAAAAAQo/78OQvqjReiE/s1600-h/grits.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laaJ9ujEI/AAAAAAAAAQo/78OQvqjReiE/s320/grits.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It is obvious from the above photo where I placed the most of my gustatory enthusiasm. The grits. Buttery, lightly peppery, and just salty enough. The pat of butter I was given may have been intended for the biscuit, but mine ended up on the grits. I did not ask for instructions.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I never knew I liked grits. In fact, my two or three previous experiences with the dish had left me rather bored. In my thoughts, grits were an unseen province of salty, beehived situation comedy diner waitresses and they were meant to be kissed in some kind of submissive fashion. Well, I kissed Brenda's grits, and I'll kiss them again, happily.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While I was tucking into the fry, a man and woman dressed in chef whites wandered into Brenda's from the Culinary Academy. I thought how sad it was that they couldn't find anything worth eating over there. The man, I noticed, had one bright blue eye and one of milky hazel. I got caught looking, so I initiated a brief conversation with them about the school. I admitted my status as an alumnus and warned them to keep a wary eye out for people who do not understand the etiquette involved in walking around a busy kitchen with 10\" chef knives. Their reaction to the pitying look on my face when I was told that tuition at the school had nearly tripled since my graduation eleven years ago indicated to me that our little interview should end as quickly as possible. I went back to reading The Adventure of the Copper Beeches and stuffing my face.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As I sat eating and reading, another man of my approximate age and scruffiness sat at the table beside mine. I really must shave. Unlike his predecessor, he seemed uneasy in his status as a single diner. He tapped is fingers and wagged his foot as though it had fallen asleep within the first ninety seconds of his being in a seated position. When his eyes weren't darting about the place, they were fixed upon his iPhone. I didn't know whether to laugh (on the inside) or cry. Few people seem really at ease with dining alone. It made me mildly depressed, but it did give me an idea for another blog post, which made me mildly cheerful.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Hangtown fry itself was good, loaded as it was with salty, smoked bacon and fresh, fried oysters. But my delicate, hummingbird frame was challenged by the enormous portions of both dishes tried. Delicate, too, was the biscuit-- the flavor of fresh butter melted in my mouth as is the way with the good ones and it had a flakiness that, had the biscuit taken a human form, might be diagnosed as Brittle Bone Disease by medical students. I mean that in a good way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I was unable to finish my meal, being as well-stuffed as one of those beignets from earlier in the meal. I took my remaining victuals home and had them for lunch. The grits were good even then, served cold.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My server returned, looked at the menu still placed on the table, and said, smiling, \"Are you still planning on ordering more?\" My brain said yes, but my stomach disagreed. I looked out the window at the Eastern Park Apartments, a retirement home that is neither in the East nor anywhere near a park. I thought to myself that, if I kept eating like this, I might not live to an age which might necessitate my inhabiting such a place. I sided with my stomach and asked, instead, for the check.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laKZ9ujCI/AAAAAAAAAQY/y3OB_REGKRM/s1600-h/brendabill.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R9laKZ9ujCI/AAAAAAAAAQY/y3OB_REGKRM/s320/brendabill.JPG\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now, I do not know Brenda Buenviaje, namesake of the restaurant. I chose not to introduce myself nor ask questions during my first visit. My photo-taking and journal entries made me look idiotic enough. When I took a closer look at \u003ca href=\"http://www.frenchsoulfood.com/about.htm\">Brenda's website\u003c/a>, I read her profile and had a better clue as to why the food made me happy-- she is a former head chef of Sumi (the only good restaurant in the Castro, as far as I'm concerned) and of Cafe Claude (my I'm- hungry-and-tired-of-watching-other-people-shop/ I-need-a-drink place of choice). She looks like someone I might like to sit down with over a glass of wine. I only hope, should that occur, that I can stifle my desire to blurt out grits-kissing remarks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'll be back to Brenda's, and soon. There's a lot there that I still need to try, like the Grillades and Grits, the Egg and Bacon Tartine, and those Pineapple Upside Down Pancakes. But really, it's that crawdaddy beignet. Second only to relieving my bladder, it was the first thing I thought about this morning. Really, I swear.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.frenchsoulfood.com/\">Brenda's French Soul Food\u003c/a> is located at:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>652 Polk Street (at Eddy)\u003cbr>\nSan Francisco, CA 94102\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Telephone: (415) 345-8100\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hours of Operation:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Breakfast is served Monday through Friday from 8 am to 3 pm.\u003cbr>\nLunch is served Monday through Friday from 11(ish) to 3 pm.\u003cbr>\nBrunch is served on Saturdays from 8 am to 3 pm.\u003cbr>\nClosed, for now, on Sundays.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Dives I Love: Cordon Bleu",
"title": "Dives I Love: Cordon Bleu",
"headTitle": "Bay Area Bites | KQED Food",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7c6Ej0gI/AAAAAAAAAOo/1ADnAkf3HS4/s1600-h/cordonbleusign.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7c6Ej0gI/AAAAAAAAAOo/1ADnAkf3HS4/s320/cordonbleusign.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Typically, when I heard the phrase \"Cordon Bleu\", I used to think in purely French terms. Mustachioed men in perfect white chef coats tasting expensive-looking dishes with silver spoons pulled from little pockets in their sleeves. Or I'd think of the literal translation, which is, of course, \"blue ribbon\", which I might mentally attach to one of the chef's coats. Since I moved near Polk Gulch four years ago, the little Frenchmen in my head have been replaced by thoughts of five spice chicken. And I couldn't be happier about that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The restaurant isn't much to look at. In fact, there are those who are downright turned off by its distinct lack of physical charm, décor and, well, apparent hygiene. As far as I'm concerned, the unadventurous can keep their distance. It's not as though \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/cordon-bleu-vietnamese-restaurant-san-francisco\">Cordon Bleu\u003c/a> needs their business-- there's a line out the door every evening.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Why the line? Well, Cordon Bleu is tiny-- nine stools bolted around a formica counter, three small tables in the back, and next to no room in between. The real reason for the crowds, however, is the chicken, which they tout as... just read the sign:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49aEj0jI/AAAAAAAAAPA/tX_X0HcPnn8/s1600-h/bestchicken.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49aEj0jI/AAAAAAAAAPA/tX_X0HcPnn8/s320/bestchicken.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I've never been to Vietnam, so I wouldn't know. Considering the fact that the jungle fowl-- the ancient proto-chicken from which all others derive-- originated in Southeast Asia, the Vietnamese have been able to take their time perfecting chicken recipes. The one at Cordon Bleu is pretty damned good, but the best? I'll take their boast with a grain of salt. And a pinch of five spice.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Chinese Five Spice, if you didn't know, is a combination of ground cinnamon (cassia), star anise, cloves, Sichuan pepper, and fennel. When rubbed on chicken, it gives Cordon Bleu the means to pay its rent.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7daEj0hI/AAAAAAAAAOw/ibIAVKbVQyQ/s1600-h/5spicechicken.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7daEj0hI/AAAAAAAAAOw/ibIAVKbVQyQ/s320/5spicechicken.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I visit the place, it's usually before or after seeing a film at the Lumière Theatre, depending upon the subject matter. I'd much rather fill myself here than with movie theatre fare. And possibly for less money than a coke, some popcorn and a candy bar.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The food is-- I hesitate to use the word cheap-- inexpensive. I can stuff myself silly for $8.25 with the \"Number Five\", which I think is the most expensive thing on the menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W4-KEj0lI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/EoTW9Xmsttc/s1600-h/thenumber5.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W4-KEj0lI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/EoTW9Xmsttc/s320/thenumber5.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Number 5 consists of one piece of \"five spiced roast chicken\" which, apart from roasting, spent a good deal of time on the grill, one pork and glass noodle fried Imperial roll, one \"shish kebab\" (which is neither shish nor kebab. It's very thin slices of marinated steak. The only common ground it shares with kebab is that it is meat that spents a good amount of time over a hot grill), country salad (shredded cabbage), and \"meat sauce on rice\".\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Meat sauce on rice. Ground pork, peppers, onions, tomato. It's piled high on nearly every plate. I'm fond of its no nonsense name. And its flavor. It's no surprise to me why SF Weekly dubbed Cordon Bleu the \u003ca href=\"http://bestof.sfweekly.com/bestof/award.php?award=172751\">Best Dive Restaurant of 2006\u003c/a>. It's good food. And damned cheap.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49qEj0kI/AAAAAAAAAPI/5vNFOpQba20/s1600-h/alldone.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49qEj0kI/AAAAAAAAAPI/5vNFOpQba20/s320/alldone.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The next time you're in the neighborhood, whether it be to see an art film, catch a drag show, or pick up a hustler, stop by Cordon Bleu. That is, if you can get in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cordon Bleu Vietnamses Restaurant\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>1574 California Street (at Polk Street)\u003cbr>San Francisco, CA 94109-4708\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Phone: (415) 673-5637\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hours: Tuesday- Saturday 11:30 am- 2:30 pm, 5-10 pm.\u003cbr> Sunday 4-10 pm\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cash Only. No alcohol is served, so bring your own beer. Hell, bring some for the women behind the counter. The last time I was there they said they could sure use one.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": "Typically, when I heard the phrase "Cordon Bleu", I used to think in purely French terms. Mustachioed men in perfect white chef coats tasting expensive-looking dishes with silver spoons pulled from little pockets in their sleeves. Or I'd think of the literal translation, which is, of course, "blue ribbon", which I might mentally attach to",
"title": "Dives I Love: Cordon Bleu | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7c6Ej0gI/AAAAAAAAAOo/1ADnAkf3HS4/s1600-h/cordonbleusign.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7c6Ej0gI/AAAAAAAAAOo/1ADnAkf3HS4/s320/cordonbleusign.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Typically, when I heard the phrase \"Cordon Bleu\", I used to think in purely French terms. Mustachioed men in perfect white chef coats tasting expensive-looking dishes with silver spoons pulled from little pockets in their sleeves. Or I'd think of the literal translation, which is, of course, \"blue ribbon\", which I might mentally attach to one of the chef's coats. Since I moved near Polk Gulch four years ago, the little Frenchmen in my head have been replaced by thoughts of five spice chicken. And I couldn't be happier about that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The restaurant isn't much to look at. In fact, there are those who are downright turned off by its distinct lack of physical charm, décor and, well, apparent hygiene. As far as I'm concerned, the unadventurous can keep their distance. It's not as though \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/cordon-bleu-vietnamese-restaurant-san-francisco\">Cordon Bleu\u003c/a> needs their business-- there's a line out the door every evening.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Why the line? Well, Cordon Bleu is tiny-- nine stools bolted around a formica counter, three small tables in the back, and next to no room in between. The real reason for the crowds, however, is the chicken, which they tout as... just read the sign:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49aEj0jI/AAAAAAAAAPA/tX_X0HcPnn8/s1600-h/bestchicken.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49aEj0jI/AAAAAAAAAPA/tX_X0HcPnn8/s320/bestchicken.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I've never been to Vietnam, so I wouldn't know. Considering the fact that the jungle fowl-- the ancient proto-chicken from which all others derive-- originated in Southeast Asia, the Vietnamese have been able to take their time perfecting chicken recipes. The one at Cordon Bleu is pretty damned good, but the best? I'll take their boast with a grain of salt. And a pinch of five spice.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Chinese Five Spice, if you didn't know, is a combination of ground cinnamon (cassia), star anise, cloves, Sichuan pepper, and fennel. When rubbed on chicken, it gives Cordon Bleu the means to pay its rent.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7daEj0hI/AAAAAAAAAOw/ibIAVKbVQyQ/s1600-h/5spicechicken.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7R7daEj0hI/AAAAAAAAAOw/ibIAVKbVQyQ/s320/5spicechicken.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I visit the place, it's usually before or after seeing a film at the Lumière Theatre, depending upon the subject matter. I'd much rather fill myself here than with movie theatre fare. And possibly for less money than a coke, some popcorn and a candy bar.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The food is-- I hesitate to use the word cheap-- inexpensive. I can stuff myself silly for $8.25 with the \"Number Five\", which I think is the most expensive thing on the menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W4-KEj0lI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/EoTW9Xmsttc/s1600-h/thenumber5.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W4-KEj0lI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/EoTW9Xmsttc/s320/thenumber5.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Number 5 consists of one piece of \"five spiced roast chicken\" which, apart from roasting, spent a good deal of time on the grill, one pork and glass noodle fried Imperial roll, one \"shish kebab\" (which is neither shish nor kebab. It's very thin slices of marinated steak. The only common ground it shares with kebab is that it is meat that spents a good amount of time over a hot grill), country salad (shredded cabbage), and \"meat sauce on rice\".\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Meat sauce on rice. Ground pork, peppers, onions, tomato. It's piled high on nearly every plate. I'm fond of its no nonsense name. And its flavor. It's no surprise to me why SF Weekly dubbed Cordon Bleu the \u003ca href=\"http://bestof.sfweekly.com/bestof/award.php?award=172751\">Best Dive Restaurant of 2006\u003c/a>. It's good food. And damned cheap.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49qEj0kI/AAAAAAAAAPI/5vNFOpQba20/s1600-h/alldone.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R7W49qEj0kI/AAAAAAAAAPI/5vNFOpQba20/s320/alldone.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The next time you're in the neighborhood, whether it be to see an art film, catch a drag show, or pick up a hustler, stop by Cordon Bleu. That is, if you can get in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cordon Bleu Vietnamses Restaurant\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>1574 California Street (at Polk Street)\u003cbr>San Francisco, CA 94109-4708\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Phone: (415) 673-5637\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hours: Tuesday- Saturday 11:30 am- 2:30 pm, 5-10 pm.\u003cbr> Sunday 4-10 pm\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cash Only. No alcohol is served, so bring your own beer. Hell, bring some for the women behind the counter. The last time I was there they said they could sure use one.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Russia House",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8pFL2NDI/AAAAAAAAALo/a7zBKpMgOB0/s1600-h/russiahouse.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8pFL2NDI/AAAAAAAAALo/a7zBKpMgOB0/s320/russiahouse.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For years, I've driven by \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/russia-house-san-francisco#hrid:lZ_gu1FXZR1Fl8V6UZ-AVQ/query:russia%20house\">Russia House\u003c/a>-- it's large, red letters and neon-framed windows staring me down every time I head south on highway 101. I've wanted to go there for a long time, but just never got around to it. This week, I finally stared back.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Very little information could be gleaned from a Google search of the place and no one I know had ever been there. The most information I could find was a list of seven comments on \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/russia-house-san-francisco#hrid:lZ_gu1FXZR1Fl8V6UZ-AVQ/query:russia%20house\">Yelp.com\u003c/a>. The reviews were decidedly mixed. Rumors of all-you-can-eat (and drink) Russian food, dancing, and either a hostile welcome or no welcome at all were all I had to go on. To me, that sounded almost like a dare. I discussed the restaurant with a friend of mine who felt equally up to the challenge. In fact, she said she already had her Russian name picked out for the evening-- Katinka. While I googled her stage name (which I learned means \"pure\"), she made the reservation. We gathered a group of eight people together, figuring there was a certain safety in numbers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While I busied myself snapping photos of the Russia House sign upon arrival, the three dining companions I showed up with were confronted by a man of about sixty dressed in blue jeans and leather jacket standing near a sign that read \"Dress code strictly enforced.\" A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. He was anything but welcoming. After explaining that we had a reservation, we were allowed entry.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once past the Russian \u003ca href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cerberus\">\u003cstrong>Cerberus\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, we stepped inside the zodiac-themed blue doors and walked upstairs to the dining room. The first thing I noticed were the enormous crystal chandeliers that seemed to be in some sort of battle with the neon of the bar for who could throw off the most light. It was extremely bright.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The second thing I noticed was a little girl, maybe seven years old, in some sort of ice dancing outfit. My friend Gary asked if that was the Russian Jonbenet. Several other children of varying ages were all dressed up and running about.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The third thing to capture my attention was the group of about thirty people standing about two banks of long, platter-filled tables. Some of them stared at us blankly. Others stared out the window, waiting for someone or perhaps something to happen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The fourth thing I noticed was that no one came to greet us. After about a minute of standing around trying not to look helpless or uncomfortable, my friend Lyle stopped a waiter who was rushing past us. We mentioned the name of our reservation. He pointed to a table for four and said we could sit there. When we explained that more were joining us, he pointed to a larger table next to the large party with all that shrimp cocktail. We sat. And then we sat some more.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What was I hoping to accomplish by being here? Was this a big mistake? Was the big, Russian dinner I've been promoting among my friends going to be a big, Russian failure? I wondered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oKg9GewyI/AAAAAAAAAMg/e1Y4ZKSifdc/s1600-h/chernobylgirl.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oKg9GewyI/AAAAAAAAAMg/e1Y4ZKSifdc/s320/chernobylgirl.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After a thorough examination of a wall mural we decided could only have been inspired by Russian fairy tales filtered through the mind of a Chernobyl survivor,we tired of sitting without benefit of food or drink. No one had approached us for minutes. Lyle pulled some money out of his wallet and beckoned a blond woman who was standing under the neon sign of the bar to come over. He asked for her name and how we might procure some service. While he did this, he handed her the money. She handed the money back, telling us that she was Elya, the owner. When I asked her if she wanted the name of our party for reservation purposes, she said, \"No, it's okay. I don't need that.\" At that point, I knew we needed some vodka. Fast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We made our vodka selection-- not expensive, considering we had to buy it by the bottle, but decent. 750 ml of Absolut for $60. When it was brought to the table, we asked if there was any real Russian vodka to be had. Elya replied, \"No, not yet. Soon.\" Lyle asked how long Russia House had been open. 20 years. Russian vodka must be harder to obtain than I had previously thought.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GlL2NII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ujFLiD4jeLM/s1600-h/vodkabottle.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GlL2NII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ujFLiD4jeLM/s320/vodkabottle.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We also asked about the menu. We had heard of an all you can eat and drink feast, but what we had in front of us was an a la carte menu. She told us, yes, she did that sometimes on Fridays. Fridays? I told her we understood the restaurant was only open to the public on Saturdays. She shrugged her shoulders and said that sometimes she felt like opening on Friday, too.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When she noted the empty seats around our table, I explained that we were still waiting for the rest of our party.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"Your girlfriends?\" she asked.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"Sort of,\" I replied.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"Are they Russian?\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"No. Not Russian.\" I thought of the fake Russian names they'd be using tonight.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"That's surprising,\" she said. \"Ninety-five percent of the American men who come here have Russian girlfriends or wives. So why have you come?\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought about how to answer that one, but settled on, \"To have fun!\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She smiled and got our waiter. I think at some point in that brief exchange, it was decided that we liked each other and the mood of the room shifted. The girls arrived, we settled into our first drink, and Lyle took charge of ordering appetizers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What came to the table were baskets of soft rye bread and butter, platters of beef tongue, smoked salmon, smoked sturgeon beef piroshke, and shrimp cocktail. Lots of shrimp cocktail.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80lL2NFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/_fiHpeqPucw/s1600-h/shrimpcocktail.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80lL2NFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/_fiHpeqPucw/s320/shrimpcocktail.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The beef tongue was good with a little mustard sauce and soft rye bread...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8X1L2M-I/AAAAAAAAALA/5O_tM9OJCTY/s1600-h/beeftongue.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8X1L2M-I/AAAAAAAAALA/5O_tM9OJCTY/s320/beeftongue.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The beef piroshke was excellent. We were certain there was more that just meat in them. We briefly discussed which organs might have been included.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8o1L2NCI/AAAAAAAAALg/CSlWklAkvII/s1600-h/piroshke.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8o1L2NCI/AAAAAAAAALg/CSlWklAkvII/s320/piroshke.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The best dish, to the unanimous decision of the table, was the smoked sturgeon. Salty, faintly smoky and butter on the tongue, it needed nothing but perhaps a little vodka to keep it company on its way down my throat. We had two platters. They even threw in more shrimp cocktail.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GFL2NGI/AAAAAAAAAMA/JSAHmv8XbAA/s1600-h/sturgeon.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GFL2NGI/AAAAAAAAAMA/JSAHmv8XbAA/s320/sturgeon.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Our table livened up after some food, cold vodka, and soda water served in iced pitchers. I looked over at the birthday party next to us. I still didn't see anyone smiling. Just people milling about in fur stoles (women, naturally) and not touching their food. I thought they might be having a wake instead. Commenting on the brightness of the lights, my friend Gary looked to the birthday crowd and commented that he now understood why Russian women wore so much make up-- it was to hold up under those damned bright lights. He wondered where he could get a make up mirror with a Russian setting. I drank a little more vodka.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then, suddenly, everything changed. Everyone's attention turned to the bandstand. A woman who looked remarkably like Jan Wahl started singing. The lights, mercifully, were dimmed. Everyone started smiling and moved to the dance floor. Apparently, the party had begun.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>People danced, moved back to the tables to drink a little, and then danced some more. We watched from our table, since our main courses had arrived. Chicken Kiev, which seemed like a must-have since I frequently ate the Stouffer's version as a child, was a bit of a dry disappointment, and shashlik -- kebabs of fish and chicken, we found tastier. Lots of potatoes made their way to our table, as did some excellent pickled vegetables. The hands-down favorite was the watermelon. The eight of us were stuffed and ready now to give our full attention to what was about to happen on the dance floor.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oTR9GewzI/AAAAAAAAAMo/ypwdjzzBzsM/s1600-h/russianjbr.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oTR9GewzI/AAAAAAAAAMo/ypwdjzzBzsM/s320/russianjbr.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The little girl in what we thought was an ice dancing dress was partnered with a dancing boy. Everyone in the restaurant crowded around the dance floor. We were shown the proper way to swing dance, fox trot, and just about every other kind of trot. The dancers were cute and we laughed and clapped for them, but the Russians looked on humorless, as if this were something to be taken very seriously, which doesn't seem so surprising when one considers that Russia has produced some of the greatest dancers the world has ever seen. Think Nijinsky, Pavlova, and Baryshnikov. I felt as though I might be missing something important. I had another sip of my vodka.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A much older couple then took over, showing us hot Latin-inspired moves that loosened up the crowd a little. Decency (or simply poor photography skills) prevents me from showing you the 13 year-old girls costume, but I can show you an example of her excellent hand movement...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GVL2NHI/AAAAAAAAAMI/MsgVP8YiPNA/s1600-h/teenmerengue.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GVL2NHI/AAAAAAAAAMI/MsgVP8YiPNA/s320/teenmerengue.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Having been shown how it's all done, we took to the dance floor ourselves, working off the shrimp cocktail and vodka. Everyone else in the room seemed to have the same idea.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80VL2NEI/AAAAAAAAALw/wlnl7-T1Yno/s1600-h/Russiandance.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80VL2NEI/AAAAAAAAALw/wlnl7-T1Yno/s320/Russiandance.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8hVL2NAI/AAAAAAAAALQ/E-ECMdalEec/s1600-h/dancingshoes.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8hVL2NAI/AAAAAAAAALQ/E-ECMdalEec/s320/dancingshoes.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Back at our table for a little resting and watering, I saw that the birthday club had finally sat down to their meal. For a minute or two at a time. Some ran off to dance, some came over to flirt with a couple of my friends.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8YFL2M_I/AAAAAAAAALI/MkXXyXMswdA/s1600-h/birthdayfeast.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8YFL2M_I/AAAAAAAAALI/MkXXyXMswdA/s320/birthdayfeast.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought perhaps we'd gone about our dinner all wrong. We ate then danced. The Russians danced, then ate. Perhaps there was sense in that. Do we see dancing as a digestive activity while they see it as an appetite stimulant? I wondered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I also wondered what all the fuss regarding hostile service was about on Yelp. In my opinion, the people that walked away from the place weren't trying hard enough (Yes, I know-- they have a good point). I regarded the experience as a bit of travel adventure.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm certainly no sociologist, but given centuries of strong-armed governments, pogroms, and war, I don't think it strange that Russians might be a bit tight-knit, insular, and suspicious as a group. Once we got past the doorman and actually started talking to people, we found them warm and lively. It just takes a little while. To make more pat generalizations about the Russians, I think that any civilization that has made such incredible contributions to literature, music, and dance is worth the effort to get to know a little better. And those little matrioshka stacking dolls. Sigh.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What started out as a rather uncertain evening ended up being a hell of a lot of fun. If you can see yourself making it past the doorman, I say put on your (fake) fur hat and your dancing boots and just go.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Here's a sped-up video of the place. Stop at any frame to get a good look at the joint:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cembed width=\"320\" height=\"266\" src=\"http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqgAAAPEbdexZYqODP9Nt5kZfcH0YgDI2wYZ9jDB4_vw-BZzBZIgRTsZ-BpcUAtKx9uZMkwPaKzicmN3I9yEYWT84EY8aRcTXjstYsdnorFVlJS9LSsUNNS_eX4wUWV1KfLH-dqkMiWNCS30y2LDjkqfzjiq287MBimYGOYQszYy-cAqB4fNNBQ4f_ot3daKKqPwHK_Md6nkHJYCLRqkb2z6GCtO0CKHE1MaKt-1PNSsgsbP5%26sigh%3DFu9coQtF4g6w3b3uhYptOaaW_9A%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&nogvlm=1&thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D52f903b0dc9f0c98%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3Dko2FLvSsg52KlC7lnNrkUIA9wzM&messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The \u003cstrong>Russia House\u003c/strong> is open to the public on Saturday nights. Please don't ask the hours, because I have no idea.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Russia House\u003c/strong> is located at 2011 Bayshore Boulevard in San Francisco, 94134\u003cbr>\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&time=&date=&ttype=&q=Russia+House+2011+Bayshore+Boulevard+in+San+Francisco,+94134&ie=UTF8&ll=37.715518,-122.399883&spn=0.015243,0.015385&z=16&iwloc=A&om=0\">\u003cstrong>View Map\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>\u003cbr>Call 415-330-9991 for reservations. Be strong.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": "For years, I've driven by Russia House-- it's large, red letters and neon-framed windows staring me down every time I head south on highway 101. I've wanted to go there for a long time, but just never got around to it. This week, I finally stared back. Very little information could be gleaned from a",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8pFL2NDI/AAAAAAAAALo/a7zBKpMgOB0/s1600-h/russiahouse.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8pFL2NDI/AAAAAAAAALo/a7zBKpMgOB0/s320/russiahouse.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For years, I've driven by \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/russia-house-san-francisco#hrid:lZ_gu1FXZR1Fl8V6UZ-AVQ/query:russia%20house\">Russia House\u003c/a>-- it's large, red letters and neon-framed windows staring me down every time I head south on highway 101. I've wanted to go there for a long time, but just never got around to it. This week, I finally stared back.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Very little information could be gleaned from a Google search of the place and no one I know had ever been there. The most information I could find was a list of seven comments on \u003ca href=\"http://www.yelp.com/biz/russia-house-san-francisco#hrid:lZ_gu1FXZR1Fl8V6UZ-AVQ/query:russia%20house\">Yelp.com\u003c/a>. The reviews were decidedly mixed. Rumors of all-you-can-eat (and drink) Russian food, dancing, and either a hostile welcome or no welcome at all were all I had to go on. To me, that sounded almost like a dare. I discussed the restaurant with a friend of mine who felt equally up to the challenge. In fact, she said she already had her Russian name picked out for the evening-- Katinka. While I googled her stage name (which I learned means \"pure\"), she made the reservation. We gathered a group of eight people together, figuring there was a certain safety in numbers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While I busied myself snapping photos of the Russia House sign upon arrival, the three dining companions I showed up with were confronted by a man of about sixty dressed in blue jeans and leather jacket standing near a sign that read \"Dress code strictly enforced.\" A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. He was anything but welcoming. After explaining that we had a reservation, we were allowed entry.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once past the Russian \u003ca href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cerberus\">\u003cstrong>Cerberus\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, we stepped inside the zodiac-themed blue doors and walked upstairs to the dining room. The first thing I noticed were the enormous crystal chandeliers that seemed to be in some sort of battle with the neon of the bar for who could throw off the most light. It was extremely bright.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The second thing I noticed was a little girl, maybe seven years old, in some sort of ice dancing outfit. My friend Gary asked if that was the Russian Jonbenet. Several other children of varying ages were all dressed up and running about.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The third thing to capture my attention was the group of about thirty people standing about two banks of long, platter-filled tables. Some of them stared at us blankly. Others stared out the window, waiting for someone or perhaps something to happen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The fourth thing I noticed was that no one came to greet us. After about a minute of standing around trying not to look helpless or uncomfortable, my friend Lyle stopped a waiter who was rushing past us. We mentioned the name of our reservation. He pointed to a table for four and said we could sit there. When we explained that more were joining us, he pointed to a larger table next to the large party with all that shrimp cocktail. We sat. And then we sat some more.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What was I hoping to accomplish by being here? Was this a big mistake? Was the big, Russian dinner I've been promoting among my friends going to be a big, Russian failure? I wondered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oKg9GewyI/AAAAAAAAAMg/e1Y4ZKSifdc/s1600-h/chernobylgirl.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oKg9GewyI/AAAAAAAAAMg/e1Y4ZKSifdc/s320/chernobylgirl.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After a thorough examination of a wall mural we decided could only have been inspired by Russian fairy tales filtered through the mind of a Chernobyl survivor,we tired of sitting without benefit of food or drink. No one had approached us for minutes. Lyle pulled some money out of his wallet and beckoned a blond woman who was standing under the neon sign of the bar to come over. He asked for her name and how we might procure some service. While he did this, he handed her the money. She handed the money back, telling us that she was Elya, the owner. When I asked her if she wanted the name of our party for reservation purposes, she said, \"No, it's okay. I don't need that.\" At that point, I knew we needed some vodka. Fast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We made our vodka selection-- not expensive, considering we had to buy it by the bottle, but decent. 750 ml of Absolut for $60. When it was brought to the table, we asked if there was any real Russian vodka to be had. Elya replied, \"No, not yet. Soon.\" Lyle asked how long Russia House had been open. 20 years. Russian vodka must be harder to obtain than I had previously thought.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GlL2NII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ujFLiD4jeLM/s1600-h/vodkabottle.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GlL2NII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ujFLiD4jeLM/s320/vodkabottle.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We also asked about the menu. We had heard of an all you can eat and drink feast, but what we had in front of us was an a la carte menu. She told us, yes, she did that sometimes on Fridays. Fridays? I told her we understood the restaurant was only open to the public on Saturdays. She shrugged her shoulders and said that sometimes she felt like opening on Friday, too.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When she noted the empty seats around our table, I explained that we were still waiting for the rest of our party.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"Your girlfriends?\" she asked.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"Sort of,\" I replied.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"Are they Russian?\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"No. Not Russian.\" I thought of the fake Russian names they'd be using tonight.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\"That's surprising,\" she said. \"Ninety-five percent of the American men who come here have Russian girlfriends or wives. So why have you come?\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought about how to answer that one, but settled on, \"To have fun!\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She smiled and got our waiter. I think at some point in that brief exchange, it was decided that we liked each other and the mood of the room shifted. The girls arrived, we settled into our first drink, and Lyle took charge of ordering appetizers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What came to the table were baskets of soft rye bread and butter, platters of beef tongue, smoked salmon, smoked sturgeon beef piroshke, and shrimp cocktail. Lots of shrimp cocktail.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80lL2NFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/_fiHpeqPucw/s1600-h/shrimpcocktail.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80lL2NFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/_fiHpeqPucw/s320/shrimpcocktail.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The beef tongue was good with a little mustard sauce and soft rye bread...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8X1L2M-I/AAAAAAAAALA/5O_tM9OJCTY/s1600-h/beeftongue.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8X1L2M-I/AAAAAAAAALA/5O_tM9OJCTY/s320/beeftongue.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The beef piroshke was excellent. We were certain there was more that just meat in them. We briefly discussed which organs might have been included.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8o1L2NCI/AAAAAAAAALg/CSlWklAkvII/s1600-h/piroshke.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8o1L2NCI/AAAAAAAAALg/CSlWklAkvII/s320/piroshke.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The best dish, to the unanimous decision of the table, was the smoked sturgeon. Salty, faintly smoky and butter on the tongue, it needed nothing but perhaps a little vodka to keep it company on its way down my throat. We had two platters. They even threw in more shrimp cocktail.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GFL2NGI/AAAAAAAAAMA/JSAHmv8XbAA/s1600-h/sturgeon.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GFL2NGI/AAAAAAAAAMA/JSAHmv8XbAA/s320/sturgeon.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Our table livened up after some food, cold vodka, and soda water served in iced pitchers. I looked over at the birthday party next to us. I still didn't see anyone smiling. Just people milling about in fur stoles (women, naturally) and not touching their food. I thought they might be having a wake instead. Commenting on the brightness of the lights, my friend Gary looked to the birthday crowd and commented that he now understood why Russian women wore so much make up-- it was to hold up under those damned bright lights. He wondered where he could get a make up mirror with a Russian setting. I drank a little more vodka.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then, suddenly, everything changed. Everyone's attention turned to the bandstand. A woman who looked remarkably like Jan Wahl started singing. The lights, mercifully, were dimmed. Everyone started smiling and moved to the dance floor. Apparently, the party had begun.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>People danced, moved back to the tables to drink a little, and then danced some more. We watched from our table, since our main courses had arrived. Chicken Kiev, which seemed like a must-have since I frequently ate the Stouffer's version as a child, was a bit of a dry disappointment, and shashlik -- kebabs of fish and chicken, we found tastier. Lots of potatoes made their way to our table, as did some excellent pickled vegetables. The hands-down favorite was the watermelon. The eight of us were stuffed and ready now to give our full attention to what was about to happen on the dance floor.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oTR9GewzI/AAAAAAAAAMo/ypwdjzzBzsM/s1600-h/russianjbr.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5oTR9GewzI/AAAAAAAAAMo/ypwdjzzBzsM/s320/russianjbr.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The little girl in what we thought was an ice dancing dress was partnered with a dancing boy. Everyone in the restaurant crowded around the dance floor. We were shown the proper way to swing dance, fox trot, and just about every other kind of trot. The dancers were cute and we laughed and clapped for them, but the Russians looked on humorless, as if this were something to be taken very seriously, which doesn't seem so surprising when one considers that Russia has produced some of the greatest dancers the world has ever seen. Think Nijinsky, Pavlova, and Baryshnikov. I felt as though I might be missing something important. I had another sip of my vodka.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A much older couple then took over, showing us hot Latin-inspired moves that loosened up the crowd a little. Decency (or simply poor photography skills) prevents me from showing you the 13 year-old girls costume, but I can show you an example of her excellent hand movement...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GVL2NHI/AAAAAAAAAMI/MsgVP8YiPNA/s1600-h/teenmerengue.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z9GVL2NHI/AAAAAAAAAMI/MsgVP8YiPNA/s320/teenmerengue.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Having been shown how it's all done, we took to the dance floor ourselves, working off the shrimp cocktail and vodka. Everyone else in the room seemed to have the same idea.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80VL2NEI/AAAAAAAAALw/wlnl7-T1Yno/s1600-h/Russiandance.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z80VL2NEI/AAAAAAAAALw/wlnl7-T1Yno/s320/Russiandance.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8hVL2NAI/AAAAAAAAALQ/E-ECMdalEec/s1600-h/dancingshoes.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8hVL2NAI/AAAAAAAAALQ/E-ECMdalEec/s320/dancingshoes.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Back at our table for a little resting and watering, I saw that the birthday club had finally sat down to their meal. For a minute or two at a time. Some ran off to dance, some came over to flirt with a couple of my friends.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8YFL2M_I/AAAAAAAAALI/MkXXyXMswdA/s1600-h/birthdayfeast.JPG\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/R5Z8YFL2M_I/AAAAAAAAALI/MkXXyXMswdA/s320/birthdayfeast.JPG\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought perhaps we'd gone about our dinner all wrong. We ate then danced. The Russians danced, then ate. Perhaps there was sense in that. Do we see dancing as a digestive activity while they see it as an appetite stimulant? I wondered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I also wondered what all the fuss regarding hostile service was about on Yelp. In my opinion, the people that walked away from the place weren't trying hard enough (Yes, I know-- they have a good point). I regarded the experience as a bit of travel adventure.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm certainly no sociologist, but given centuries of strong-armed governments, pogroms, and war, I don't think it strange that Russians might be a bit tight-knit, insular, and suspicious as a group. Once we got past the doorman and actually started talking to people, we found them warm and lively. It just takes a little while. To make more pat generalizations about the Russians, I think that any civilization that has made such incredible contributions to literature, music, and dance is worth the effort to get to know a little better. And those little matrioshka stacking dolls. Sigh.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What started out as a rather uncertain evening ended up being a hell of a lot of fun. If you can see yourself making it past the doorman, I say put on your (fake) fur hat and your dancing boots and just go.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Here's a sped-up video of the place. Stop at any frame to get a good look at the joint:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cembed width=\"320\" height=\"266\" src=\"http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqgAAAPEbdexZYqODP9Nt5kZfcH0YgDI2wYZ9jDB4_vw-BZzBZIgRTsZ-BpcUAtKx9uZMkwPaKzicmN3I9yEYWT84EY8aRcTXjstYsdnorFVlJS9LSsUNNS_eX4wUWV1KfLH-dqkMiWNCS30y2LDjkqfzjiq287MBimYGOYQszYy-cAqB4fNNBQ4f_ot3daKKqPwHK_Md6nkHJYCLRqkb2z6GCtO0CKHE1MaKt-1PNSsgsbP5%26sigh%3DFu9coQtF4g6w3b3uhYptOaaW_9A%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&nogvlm=1&thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D52f903b0dc9f0c98%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3Dko2FLvSsg52KlC7lnNrkUIA9wzM&messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den\">\u003c/embed>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The \u003cstrong>Russia House\u003c/strong> is open to the public on Saturday nights. Please don't ask the hours, because I have no idea.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>Russia House\u003c/strong> is located at 2011 Bayshore Boulevard in San Francisco, 94134\u003cbr>\u003ca href=\"http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&time=&date=&ttype=&q=Russia+House+2011+Bayshore+Boulevard+in+San+Francisco,+94134&ie=UTF8&ll=37.715518,-122.399883&spn=0.015243,0.015385&z=16&iwloc=A&om=0\">\u003cstrong>View Map\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>\u003cbr>Call 415-330-9991 for reservations. Be strong.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Mexico DF",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/mdf-740677.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/mdf-740677.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Despite the proliferation of excellent burritos and taco trucks worth chasing down, it's hard to find a decent sit-down Mexican place in San Francisco. While \u003ca href=\"http://www.mex-df.com\">Mexico DF\u003c/a> isn't quite perfect, it's good enough to overlook the flaws and welcome its addition to the city's restaurants. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression; visually, Mexico DF nails it. From an oversized rustic chandelier made from a lattice iron grill and hanging crystals to vivid back-lit artwork by \u003ca href=\"http://www.bondlatin.com/tamayo01.htm?gclid=CKiSocKq2o4CFSQeYAod0SeVTg\">Oaxacan artist Rufino Tamayo\u003c/a>, Mexico DF is a beautiful space with refined nods to the country that inspired it. Tables are laid with brightly colored chargers, and the open kitchen is roofed with a cherry red canopy. On a recent Saturday night, though the bar was calm, the dining room had a pleasant buzz to it. Service, though \u003ca href=\"http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/08/26/CM81RDO0M.DTL&type=food\">rumored\u003c/a> to be amateur, was anything but. Our server was friendly, full of recommendations, happy to answer questions (where the goat was raised, for example) and he changed out our plates and silver between every single course.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The name of the restaurant, which refers to Mexico's capital city, gives some idea as to the focus of chef David Rosales' cuisine. The dinner menu offers a bit of everything (except burritos), from ceviche to soup, tacos to whole roasted fish. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/guac-761910.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/guac-761905.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We started with the house guacamole. If you had asked me to rate the restaurant after only one bite, I would have awarded it an A. Thick, creamy, and judiciously seasoned, the guacamole ($9) arrived with a handful of tortilla chips architecturally arrayed in its greenery, as well as two kinds of salsa (sweet chile de arbol and peppy tomatillo-habanero, which are available for sale by the bottle). Our server brought us a back-up supply of chips so we could lap it all up. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/drinks-783398.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/drinks-783396.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Both the margaritas we ordered -- the sweet, midnight-colored Xochimilco with hibiscus and peach juice ($9) and the classic Polanco ($10.50) with Herradura reposado -- were well-made and easy to drink. Next time I'd like to try a version with muddled grapefruit just for kicks. After our guacamole, we switched to wine. The Tobia tempranillo ($12) was smokier than I liked, but the fruitier MAS malbec ($8) suited me well. Neither were particularly astute matches for the food, however.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was the \u003ca href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut\">corn fungus\u003c/a> that convinced us to share the chile relleno rather than one of the ceviches. A gigantic mild green pepper ($14) was stuffed first with corn, summer squash, and the musky sweet Mexican delicacy known as huitlacoche, then coated in breading, deep-fried, and drizzled in crema and Tangerine tomato salsa. The fried coating got soggy under the sauce, but its inner beauty shown through, and we gobbled up the the insides wrapped in their crisp pepper shell. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/chile-799662.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/chile-799652.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For our mains, we heeded the mighty call of the taco. The chuleta consisted of small pieces of lean pork loin ($9 for two), a confetti of raw white onions, and chile de arbol salsa on the side. They were only okay. I was craving a juicier meat, I suppose, so it's my own fault for ordering the loin. But it doesn't change the fact that they were no better than average. Next time, I'll get the carnitas. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The cabrito ($12 for two), however, were oustanding. Goat meat is popular in a variety of cultures, from Latin America to the Middle East. It isn't something we gringos eat a lot, and I can tell you we're missing out. The rich, juicy, slightly smoky barbacoa-style goat was the best thing I ate all night. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We're gluttons, so we also ordered a huarache corn masa \"sandal\" with grilled short ribs ($10). The meat had a great grilled flavor, but it was too fatty for me and I spit it out. My boyfriend devoured it, though, and I found myself compulsively picking at the queso fresco on top.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm not sure whether I loved or hated the house pickled jalapenos ($2) that arrived at my request with my tacos. The thin carrot slivers were sweet and tangy, but the peppers packed more punch than a heavyweight boxer in the fight of his life, and my poor palate got quite a scorching. I had to order a side of crema to cut the heat, and sat spooning it into my beleaguered mouth for quite some time. Still, I can't say that I didn't sort of enjoy the rush, and as soon as my tongue had cooled, I picked up another one and took another bite. (A much smaller bite.) \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We ended our meal with a burnt caramel flan ($8). I'd hoped it would change my mind about flan, and though it was creamy and the sweet caramel sauce burnt just enough, in the end it was only flan. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Overall, we enjoyed an above average meal, tasty margaritas, superb service and a few standout bites. I really appreciated the more unusual ingredients on the menu, neither of which I can recall seeing on a local menu before. Our server told us that the goat is raised in Colorado for Niman Ranch, and the huitlacoche is grown for the restaurant by a local farmer. Next time I'm craving Mexican and I want to sit down and linger over dinner, I'll be back.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Mexico DF\u003cbr>139 Steuart Street at Mission\u003cbr>San Francisco \u003cbr>(415) 808-1048\u003cbr>Open 7 nights a week for dinner, M-F lunch\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/mdf-740677.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/mdf-740677.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Despite the proliferation of excellent burritos and taco trucks worth chasing down, it's hard to find a decent sit-down Mexican place in San Francisco. While \u003ca href=\"http://www.mex-df.com\">Mexico DF\u003c/a> isn't quite perfect, it's good enough to overlook the flaws and welcome its addition to the city's restaurants. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression; visually, Mexico DF nails it. From an oversized rustic chandelier made from a lattice iron grill and hanging crystals to vivid back-lit artwork by \u003ca href=\"http://www.bondlatin.com/tamayo01.htm?gclid=CKiSocKq2o4CFSQeYAod0SeVTg\">Oaxacan artist Rufino Tamayo\u003c/a>, Mexico DF is a beautiful space with refined nods to the country that inspired it. Tables are laid with brightly colored chargers, and the open kitchen is roofed with a cherry red canopy. On a recent Saturday night, though the bar was calm, the dining room had a pleasant buzz to it. Service, though \u003ca href=\"http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/08/26/CM81RDO0M.DTL&type=food\">rumored\u003c/a> to be amateur, was anything but. Our server was friendly, full of recommendations, happy to answer questions (where the goat was raised, for example) and he changed out our plates and silver between every single course.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The name of the restaurant, which refers to Mexico's capital city, gives some idea as to the focus of chef David Rosales' cuisine. The dinner menu offers a bit of everything (except burritos), from ceviche to soup, tacos to whole roasted fish. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/guac-761910.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/guac-761905.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We started with the house guacamole. If you had asked me to rate the restaurant after only one bite, I would have awarded it an A. Thick, creamy, and judiciously seasoned, the guacamole ($9) arrived with a handful of tortilla chips architecturally arrayed in its greenery, as well as two kinds of salsa (sweet chile de arbol and peppy tomatillo-habanero, which are available for sale by the bottle). Our server brought us a back-up supply of chips so we could lap it all up. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/drinks-783398.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/drinks-783396.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Both the margaritas we ordered -- the sweet, midnight-colored Xochimilco with hibiscus and peach juice ($9) and the classic Polanco ($10.50) with Herradura reposado -- were well-made and easy to drink. Next time I'd like to try a version with muddled grapefruit just for kicks. After our guacamole, we switched to wine. The Tobia tempranillo ($12) was smokier than I liked, but the fruitier MAS malbec ($8) suited me well. Neither were particularly astute matches for the food, however.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was the \u003ca href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut\">corn fungus\u003c/a> that convinced us to share the chile relleno rather than one of the ceviches. A gigantic mild green pepper ($14) was stuffed first with corn, summer squash, and the musky sweet Mexican delicacy known as huitlacoche, then coated in breading, deep-fried, and drizzled in crema and Tangerine tomato salsa. The fried coating got soggy under the sauce, but its inner beauty shown through, and we gobbled up the the insides wrapped in their crisp pepper shell. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/chile-799662.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/chile-799652.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For our mains, we heeded the mighty call of the taco. The chuleta consisted of small pieces of lean pork loin ($9 for two), a confetti of raw white onions, and chile de arbol salsa on the side. They were only okay. I was craving a juicier meat, I suppose, so it's my own fault for ordering the loin. But it doesn't change the fact that they were no better than average. Next time, I'll get the carnitas. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The cabrito ($12 for two), however, were oustanding. Goat meat is popular in a variety of cultures, from Latin America to the Middle East. It isn't something we gringos eat a lot, and I can tell you we're missing out. The rich, juicy, slightly smoky barbacoa-style goat was the best thing I ate all night. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We're gluttons, so we also ordered a huarache corn masa \"sandal\" with grilled short ribs ($10). The meat had a great grilled flavor, but it was too fatty for me and I spit it out. My boyfriend devoured it, though, and I found myself compulsively picking at the queso fresco on top.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm not sure whether I loved or hated the house pickled jalapenos ($2) that arrived at my request with my tacos. The thin carrot slivers were sweet and tangy, but the peppers packed more punch than a heavyweight boxer in the fight of his life, and my poor palate got quite a scorching. I had to order a side of crema to cut the heat, and sat spooning it into my beleaguered mouth for quite some time. Still, I can't say that I didn't sort of enjoy the rush, and as soon as my tongue had cooled, I picked up another one and took another bite. (A much smaller bite.) \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We ended our meal with a burnt caramel flan ($8). I'd hoped it would change my mind about flan, and though it was creamy and the sweet caramel sauce burnt just enough, in the end it was only flan. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Overall, we enjoyed an above average meal, tasty margaritas, superb service and a few standout bites. I really appreciated the more unusual ingredients on the menu, neither of which I can recall seeing on a local menu before. Our server told us that the goat is raised in Colorado for Niman Ranch, and the huitlacoche is grown for the restaurant by a local farmer. Next time I'm craving Mexican and I want to sit down and linger over dinner, I'll be back.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Mexico DF\u003cbr>139 Steuart Street at Mission\u003cbr>San Francisco \u003cbr>(415) 808-1048\u003cbr>Open 7 nights a week for dinner, M-F lunch\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Does Spruce Make the Bay Area's Best Burger?",
"title": "Does Spruce Make the Bay Area's Best Burger?",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/exterior-705937.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/exterior-705928.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A provocative question, especially for a food-loving town in a beef-righteous nation. It's a question that I can't even answer, really, not having sampled every burger in the Bay Area, or even the smaller list of San Francisco cult favorites. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But one thing I can tell you is that the burger at the newly opened \u003ca href=\"http://www.sprucesf.com\">\u003cstrong>Spruce\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> is absolutely, unequivocally, utterly delicious. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/SpruceGarnishes-714284.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/SpruceGarnishes-714261.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a> \u003cbr>\u003cem>photo by Jen Maiser\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I met a friend there on a recent Monday night about two weeks after it opened. (Was this the most highly anticipated restaurant opening in recent memory or what?) We snagged two seats at the bar and settled in for drinks, I with my bourbon stone sour ($8) and \u003ca href=\"http://fogcity.blogs.com/\">\u003cstrong>Jen\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> with her Clover Club ($8), a sweet-tart blend of gin, lemon juice, and \u003ca href=\"http://www.hangarone.com\">\u003cstrong>Hangar One\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> Aqua Perfecta framboise eau de vie. (The former: eh; the latter: double-yum.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even though we were splitting a burger at the bar, our meal started with an amuse bouche, a small gift of the world's best beet chips, vivid vermilion and perfectly salted, with a side of horseradish cream. They hit the spot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/salumi-780133.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/salumi-780130.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We were in a nibbly mood so we shared two orders ($7 each) of housemade charcuterie -- which is surely now the most oft-typed phrase in my restaurant write-up vocabulary -- and enjoyed noshing our way through coins of soft smoked chorizo and glossy slivers of spicy coppa. I devoured the onion relish compulsively, and liked the sprinkling of smoked pimenton. We drank, we talked, we admired the view (chocolate mohair walls, soaring steel trusses, a glittering skylight) and took in the crowd, mostly couples and friends hungrily eyeing their food rather than one another. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/burger-741890.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/burger-741887.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When the burger ($12) arrived, it was draped, on request, with a melted slice of cheddar but otherwise unadorned, save for a small garden of lettuce, tomatoes, pickled red onions, and thin sheets of dill pickle on the side. Many regulars of the \u003ca href=\"http://www.thevillagepub.net\">\u003cstrong>Village Pub\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, also owned by the trio behind Spruce, liken the \"bun\" to an English muffin, and that seems as apt a description as any for the thin, textured, somewhat porous bread. My only complaint is that they really overdid it brushing the bun with butter. Other than that, the burger was perfect -- hefty enough to feel good in the hand, satisfying, well-seasoned (an area where the kitchen clearly excels), juicy, and flavorful. Every bite was delightful and I would have eaten every last pickle if my mother hadn't taught me to share.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/fries-759932.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/fries-759927.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The fries that came with it were served in a silver cup, and assuming they are the same ones that accompany the bavette steak on the dinner menu, fried in duck fat. Holy Deliciousness, Batman! Crisp, just the right side of greasy, and perfectly salted; odd, however, that we had to ask for ketchup (and mustard). Is it really so rare to want these condiments when ordering a burger and fries? They should just slap them on the side and be done with it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The service throughout the meal was spot on, though the lamp on the corner of the bar made it hard for our bartender to tell when Jen's drink had run dry. We passed on dessert, even though they were created by Bay Area wunderkind William Werner, formerly of the Ritz-Carlton Half Moon Bay; a girl has to save a little something for the next time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I perused the dinner menu while I was there and, despite being written by a devoted minimalist, a few things on it popped out at me -- watermelon and arugula with cured sardines, for instance, and crudo with vegetables escabeche (\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/2007/08/luh-luh-luh-laiola.jsp\">\u003cstrong>did I call this new trend or did I call this new trend\u003c/strong>?\u003c/a>). \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm looking forward to my next visit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Spruce\u003cbr>3640 Sacramento Street \u003cbr>(415) 931-5100\u003cbr>San Francisco\u003cbr>Open 7 days a week for dinner, M-F for lunch\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": "A provocative question, especially for a food-loving town in a beef-righteous nation. It's a question that I can't even answer, really, not having sampled every burger in the Bay Area, or even the smaller list of San Francisco cult favorites. But one thing I can tell you is that the burger at the newly opened",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/exterior-705937.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/exterior-705928.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A provocative question, especially for a food-loving town in a beef-righteous nation. It's a question that I can't even answer, really, not having sampled every burger in the Bay Area, or even the smaller list of San Francisco cult favorites. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But one thing I can tell you is that the burger at the newly opened \u003ca href=\"http://www.sprucesf.com\">\u003cstrong>Spruce\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> is absolutely, unequivocally, utterly delicious. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/SpruceGarnishes-714284.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/SpruceGarnishes-714261.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a> \u003cbr>\u003cem>photo by Jen Maiser\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I met a friend there on a recent Monday night about two weeks after it opened. (Was this the most highly anticipated restaurant opening in recent memory or what?) We snagged two seats at the bar and settled in for drinks, I with my bourbon stone sour ($8) and \u003ca href=\"http://fogcity.blogs.com/\">\u003cstrong>Jen\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> with her Clover Club ($8), a sweet-tart blend of gin, lemon juice, and \u003ca href=\"http://www.hangarone.com\">\u003cstrong>Hangar One\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> Aqua Perfecta framboise eau de vie. (The former: eh; the latter: double-yum.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even though we were splitting a burger at the bar, our meal started with an amuse bouche, a small gift of the world's best beet chips, vivid vermilion and perfectly salted, with a side of horseradish cream. They hit the spot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/salumi-780133.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/salumi-780130.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We were in a nibbly mood so we shared two orders ($7 each) of housemade charcuterie -- which is surely now the most oft-typed phrase in my restaurant write-up vocabulary -- and enjoyed noshing our way through coins of soft smoked chorizo and glossy slivers of spicy coppa. I devoured the onion relish compulsively, and liked the sprinkling of smoked pimenton. We drank, we talked, we admired the view (chocolate mohair walls, soaring steel trusses, a glittering skylight) and took in the crowd, mostly couples and friends hungrily eyeing their food rather than one another. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/burger-741890.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/burger-741887.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When the burger ($12) arrived, it was draped, on request, with a melted slice of cheddar but otherwise unadorned, save for a small garden of lettuce, tomatoes, pickled red onions, and thin sheets of dill pickle on the side. Many regulars of the \u003ca href=\"http://www.thevillagepub.net\">\u003cstrong>Village Pub\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, also owned by the trio behind Spruce, liken the \"bun\" to an English muffin, and that seems as apt a description as any for the thin, textured, somewhat porous bread. My only complaint is that they really overdid it brushing the bun with butter. Other than that, the burger was perfect -- hefty enough to feel good in the hand, satisfying, well-seasoned (an area where the kitchen clearly excels), juicy, and flavorful. Every bite was delightful and I would have eaten every last pickle if my mother hadn't taught me to share.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/fries-759932.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/fries-759927.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The fries that came with it were served in a silver cup, and assuming they are the same ones that accompany the bavette steak on the dinner menu, fried in duck fat. Holy Deliciousness, Batman! Crisp, just the right side of greasy, and perfectly salted; odd, however, that we had to ask for ketchup (and mustard). Is it really so rare to want these condiments when ordering a burger and fries? They should just slap them on the side and be done with it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The service throughout the meal was spot on, though the lamp on the corner of the bar made it hard for our bartender to tell when Jen's drink had run dry. We passed on dessert, even though they were created by Bay Area wunderkind William Werner, formerly of the Ritz-Carlton Half Moon Bay; a girl has to save a little something for the next time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I perused the dinner menu while I was there and, despite being written by a devoted minimalist, a few things on it popped out at me -- watermelon and arugula with cured sardines, for instance, and crudo with vegetables escabeche (\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/2007/08/luh-luh-luh-laiola.jsp\">\u003cstrong>did I call this new trend or did I call this new trend\u003c/strong>?\u003c/a>). \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'm looking forward to my next visit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Spruce\u003cbr>3640 Sacramento Street \u003cbr>(415) 931-5100\u003cbr>San Francisco\u003cbr>Open 7 days a week for dinner, M-F for lunch\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "The Old Clam House",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8BCu7lLI/AAAAAAAAAB0/V9JL3_zkqsg/s1600-h/ClamHouseMenu.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8BCu7lLI/AAAAAAAAAB0/V9JL3_zkqsg/s320/ClamHouseMenu.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are a number of restaurants in this city that have captured my imagination-- restaurants about which I know absolutely nothing, apart from the clues given away by their often antiquated signs and odd locations. Russia House and Julius' Castle come to mind. I am not typically curious about what's new and exciting. I leave that to other, hipper bloggers. Show me a restaurant that has survived fire, earthquake and food trend and I'll be there. Sooner or later. It's not as if they're going anywhere.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I've driven by the Old Clam House for years. Or, rather, been driven by it-- I don't have a car. It has captivated me for a number of reasons. First, it's location-- a rather depressing stretch of Bayshore Boulevard, near the stretch of the 101 called the James Lick Freeway-- a fact not lost upon me. Next, it's age. The Old Clam House has been in business since 1861, making it second only to (please correct me if I'm wrong) Tadich Grill in terms of senility. Lastly, the name itself-- The Old Clam House. Does the word \"old\" modify \"clam\" or \"house\"? I assumed the latter, but refused to dismiss the former. A home for retired prostitutes also came to mind, naturally. My friends and I talked of going there for a long time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Finally, after one near miss a few months ago, my friend Bill thought it high time to gather up the menfolk and wander down Bernal Hill for a special dinner-- my birthday dinner-- at the Clam House. As I sat with a cocktail opening birthday cards, I noted that a card from one friend read \"To an (old) clam.\" Everyone, it seemed, was ready for the evening ahead.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When we arrived for our reservation, the seven of us were greeted warmly and offered our table promptly, but we paused long enough to note the Wall of Fame lined with celebrities either gracious enough to bestow autographed 8 x 10 glossy publicity photos they just happened to be carrying with them at the time or desperate enough in their ebbing careers to think that any publicity is preferable to none at all. I couldn't decide. One of my favorite Old Clams to grace the wall is pictured below. Please forgive the light reflection obscuring her face. I feel that, out of kindness, I must obscure her identity, however lightly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8piu7lOI/AAAAAAAAACM/VCpfhraWIt0/s1600-h/LoniAnderson.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8piu7lOI/AAAAAAAAACM/VCpfhraWIt0/s320/LoniAnderson.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once seated, we were greeted by our server with water, baskets of sourdough bread and individual cups of hot clam broth which my friend Dan, who swallowed his fear of clams (the actual meat, not clam byproducts or the idea of clams) to come to dinner, declared it good. And it was-- subtly flavored. Briny and fresh tasting without being too, well, clammy. It struck a good first note.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While figuring out what to have for our main courses, we contented ourselves with beer and ordered two plates of fried calamari. My friend Bill and I ordered cups of clam chowder, which seemed like a too obvious choice, but a good one, nonetheless. The clams inside the chowder were plentiful and tender; the potatoes had enough tooth to them without being undercooked. I could smash the chunks on the roof of my mouth with my tongue. If I wanted to. However unsubtle it may have been, I introduced Bill to the pleasure of adding tabasco sauce to chowder. I like the heat it gives and the pretty pink color, naturally. The fried calamari was exactly as it should be, too. Crispy and ungreasy with just a little bit of chew. I normally avoid cocktail sauce and go straight for a squeeze of lemon, but I dipped a few tiny tentacles in, since the sauce was homemade. I might have stifled a yawn, but that's just me. It was good cocktail sauce, if you like that sort of thing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While browsing the menu, I noticed that the restaurant served Scalone Bordelaise. If you are among those fortunate enough never to have run into this terrible shotgun marriage between bivalve and gastropod, scalone is a mixture of scallops and abalone-- two wonderful mollusks when kept in their separate corners-- usually ground together and frozen into patty or steak form. They must be pan fried directly from the freezer, in my experience, or they will do what is only natural-- separate. The only reason I know this is that this dish was served as an annual specialty at the Bohemian Grove camp I worked at last summer. We referred to the dish as Scabalone which, to us, is what it looked like when sufficiently browned on the griddle. Our campers ate it with a squeeze of lemon. as though to sanitize. I can imagine that adding a creamy sauce to it would only make the scab look infected. I moved down the menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I opted for the Mescalanza because it had a bit of everything in it-- crab legs, clams, prawns, Oysters Rockefeller. That, and because the name made me think of Mario Lanza singing \u003ca href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NT6WEKFmnLk\">\"Be My Love\"\u003c/a>. Impossible to refuse, in my book. I think I made the right choice, at least in terms of the dish's theatrical value...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8QCu7lMI/AAAAAAAAAB8/csJGWVi2JHk/s1600-h/mescalanza.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8QCu7lMI/AAAAAAAAAB8/csJGWVi2JHk/s320/mescalanza.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Flaming seafood. An attention-grabbing entree is always in order on one's birthday. I thought about making a wish by blowing out the clam, but thought better of it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'd never had a seafood bordelaise before. The sauce itself was fine, but made an already rich dish obscenely so. I nibbled at the Oyster Rockefeller slowly, since there was only one and, to me, the star attraction. To my surprise, I actually liked clams drowned in sauce, but I think the other bits of seafood suffered, like the prawns and crab. Though impaled on skewers suspended above the bowl on what looked like a dumb bell rack, it was impossible not to coat everything I touched with bordelaise-- it was all over my hands. When my butter-coated fingers dropped a prawn into the bowl, I discovered a bit of sunken treasure-- an ear of corn. I think the fact that an ear of corn can go unnoticed at the bottom of one's bowl for several minutes illustrates either the immense size of the bowl in question or the limited observational powers of the person eating it. I vote for the former but won't rule out the latter. Shaking off as much sauce as I could, I bit into the corn. The corn juice released from the now-damaged kernels mingled with what sauce remained, not so much running down my chin, but getting absorbed by my beard. The corn was abandoned.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The other dishes ordered by my dining mates were just as gargantuan. The clam linguini was enough to feed all seven of us and was actually delicious. My friend David's Lazy Man's Cioppino was served in the same oversized bowl as my Mescalanza. We questioned why the dish was named \"Lazy Man's Cioppino\". Since the crab legs were uncracked and the prawns still in their shell, we assumed that the lazy man in question was the one who prepared the dish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As we finished our dinners, or at least tried to, I asked our server for a hot towel, since my hands and part of my left forearm were coated with bordelaise. She said yes, but returned without one. I asked someone else for an extra napkin and was given a few small ones of the paper kind. I was wedged into the middle of the table and didn't feel like getting up to go to the bathroom, so I just moistened the paper napkins with what little water was left in my glass and cleaned myself up as best I could given the tools I had. I had hoped that someone might think about clearing our table of dirty plates, but hope accomplishes nothing except the heightening of future disappointment.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8byu7lNI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZM_Rk13TrQY/s1600-h/mescalanzaaftermath.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8byu7lNI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZM_Rk13TrQY/s320/mescalanzaaftermath.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I am very glad I didn't get up to go to the restroom. As we abandoned our dinner, my friend Gary turned to all of us and said, \"Keep an eye on the door of the Ladies' Room and see what comes out. It's good.\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We all tried to keep up our conversations, but everyone kept staring at the Ladies' Room door. A couple of minutes passed. Nothing. A tall, fifty-something blonde entered and then exited two minutes or so later. Was that what we were supposed to be looking at? No, of course not. We'd all stared at her as she went in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As my attention was beginning to flag, out came a rather tall woman with enormous breasts that were so ill-contained by her overflowing tank top that her aureolae peeked over the top, though her shirt was partially covered by what looked like an open Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation 1814 leather jacket. Her stride was confident across the restaurant, even in her high heeled boots. She wet her index finger with her tongue and wiped the corners of her mouth as she walked. Someone at my table intimated that she might be a working girl. I thought perhaps she was just having the same issues with the excess of bordelaise I was.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then a man came out of the Ladies' Room adjusting his pants. I knew then that the joke I'd made about the the restaurant being a home for retired prostitutes wasn't too far off the mark. I'll just have to omit the word \"retired\" the next time I tell it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Considering the fact that this woman was a practitioner, one assumes, of the world's oldest profession, I thought her behavior best suited for the oldest restaurant, Tadich Grill. Since I don't know what the world's second oldest profession is, I was at a loss to give her any restaurant-appropriate career advice.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>No dessert was offered to us, though I had heard tell of flan being available. It would have been nice to have had a candle to blow out, to make a wish for my 38th year, but it seemed so obvious to me that this woman stole my birthday thunder. There was no way in hell I was going to out-blow a professional, so I let her have the honor. I just wonder what she wished for. I hope it was something nice.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"description": "There are a number of restaurants in this city that have captured my imagination– restaurants about which I know absolutely nothing, apart from the clues given away by their often antiquated signs and odd locations. Russia House and Julius’ Castle come to mind. I am not typically curious about what’s new and exciting. I leave",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8BCu7lLI/AAAAAAAAAB0/V9JL3_zkqsg/s1600-h/ClamHouseMenu.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8BCu7lLI/AAAAAAAAAB0/V9JL3_zkqsg/s320/ClamHouseMenu.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are a number of restaurants in this city that have captured my imagination-- restaurants about which I know absolutely nothing, apart from the clues given away by their often antiquated signs and odd locations. Russia House and Julius' Castle come to mind. I am not typically curious about what's new and exciting. I leave that to other, hipper bloggers. Show me a restaurant that has survived fire, earthquake and food trend and I'll be there. Sooner or later. It's not as if they're going anywhere.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I've driven by the Old Clam House for years. Or, rather, been driven by it-- I don't have a car. It has captivated me for a number of reasons. First, it's location-- a rather depressing stretch of Bayshore Boulevard, near the stretch of the 101 called the James Lick Freeway-- a fact not lost upon me. Next, it's age. The Old Clam House has been in business since 1861, making it second only to (please correct me if I'm wrong) Tadich Grill in terms of senility. Lastly, the name itself-- The Old Clam House. Does the word \"old\" modify \"clam\" or \"house\"? I assumed the latter, but refused to dismiss the former. A home for retired prostitutes also came to mind, naturally. My friends and I talked of going there for a long time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Finally, after one near miss a few months ago, my friend Bill thought it high time to gather up the menfolk and wander down Bernal Hill for a special dinner-- my birthday dinner-- at the Clam House. As I sat with a cocktail opening birthday cards, I noted that a card from one friend read \"To an (old) clam.\" Everyone, it seemed, was ready for the evening ahead.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When we arrived for our reservation, the seven of us were greeted warmly and offered our table promptly, but we paused long enough to note the Wall of Fame lined with celebrities either gracious enough to bestow autographed 8 x 10 glossy publicity photos they just happened to be carrying with them at the time or desperate enough in their ebbing careers to think that any publicity is preferable to none at all. I couldn't decide. One of my favorite Old Clams to grace the wall is pictured below. Please forgive the light reflection obscuring her face. I feel that, out of kindness, I must obscure her identity, however lightly.\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://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8piu7lOI/AAAAAAAAACM/VCpfhraWIt0/s1600-h/LoniAnderson.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8piu7lOI/AAAAAAAAACM/VCpfhraWIt0/s320/LoniAnderson.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Once seated, we were greeted by our server with water, baskets of sourdough bread and individual cups of hot clam broth which my friend Dan, who swallowed his fear of clams (the actual meat, not clam byproducts or the idea of clams) to come to dinner, declared it good. And it was-- subtly flavored. Briny and fresh tasting without being too, well, clammy. It struck a good first note.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While figuring out what to have for our main courses, we contented ourselves with beer and ordered two plates of fried calamari. My friend Bill and I ordered cups of clam chowder, which seemed like a too obvious choice, but a good one, nonetheless. The clams inside the chowder were plentiful and tender; the potatoes had enough tooth to them without being undercooked. I could smash the chunks on the roof of my mouth with my tongue. If I wanted to. However unsubtle it may have been, I introduced Bill to the pleasure of adding tabasco sauce to chowder. I like the heat it gives and the pretty pink color, naturally. The fried calamari was exactly as it should be, too. Crispy and ungreasy with just a little bit of chew. I normally avoid cocktail sauce and go straight for a squeeze of lemon, but I dipped a few tiny tentacles in, since the sauce was homemade. I might have stifled a yawn, but that's just me. It was good cocktail sauce, if you like that sort of thing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While browsing the menu, I noticed that the restaurant served Scalone Bordelaise. If you are among those fortunate enough never to have run into this terrible shotgun marriage between bivalve and gastropod, scalone is a mixture of scallops and abalone-- two wonderful mollusks when kept in their separate corners-- usually ground together and frozen into patty or steak form. They must be pan fried directly from the freezer, in my experience, or they will do what is only natural-- separate. The only reason I know this is that this dish was served as an annual specialty at the Bohemian Grove camp I worked at last summer. We referred to the dish as Scabalone which, to us, is what it looked like when sufficiently browned on the griddle. Our campers ate it with a squeeze of lemon. as though to sanitize. I can imagine that adding a creamy sauce to it would only make the scab look infected. I moved down the menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I opted for the Mescalanza because it had a bit of everything in it-- crab legs, clams, prawns, Oysters Rockefeller. That, and because the name made me think of Mario Lanza singing \u003ca href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NT6WEKFmnLk\">\"Be My Love\"\u003c/a>. Impossible to refuse, in my book. I think I made the right choice, at least in terms of the dish's theatrical value...\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8QCu7lMI/AAAAAAAAAB8/csJGWVi2JHk/s1600-h/mescalanza.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8QCu7lMI/AAAAAAAAAB8/csJGWVi2JHk/s320/mescalanza.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Flaming seafood. An attention-grabbing entree is always in order on one's birthday. I thought about making a wish by blowing out the clam, but thought better of it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I'd never had a seafood bordelaise before. The sauce itself was fine, but made an already rich dish obscenely so. I nibbled at the Oyster Rockefeller slowly, since there was only one and, to me, the star attraction. To my surprise, I actually liked clams drowned in sauce, but I think the other bits of seafood suffered, like the prawns and crab. Though impaled on skewers suspended above the bowl on what looked like a dumb bell rack, it was impossible not to coat everything I touched with bordelaise-- it was all over my hands. When my butter-coated fingers dropped a prawn into the bowl, I discovered a bit of sunken treasure-- an ear of corn. I think the fact that an ear of corn can go unnoticed at the bottom of one's bowl for several minutes illustrates either the immense size of the bowl in question or the limited observational powers of the person eating it. I vote for the former but won't rule out the latter. Shaking off as much sauce as I could, I bit into the corn. The corn juice released from the now-damaged kernels mingled with what sauce remained, not so much running down my chin, but getting absorbed by my beard. The corn was abandoned.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The other dishes ordered by my dining mates were just as gargantuan. The clam linguini was enough to feed all seven of us and was actually delicious. My friend David's Lazy Man's Cioppino was served in the same oversized bowl as my Mescalanza. We questioned why the dish was named \"Lazy Man's Cioppino\". Since the crab legs were uncracked and the prawns still in their shell, we assumed that the lazy man in question was the one who prepared the dish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As we finished our dinners, or at least tried to, I asked our server for a hot towel, since my hands and part of my left forearm were coated with bordelaise. She said yes, but returned without one. I asked someone else for an extra napkin and was given a few small ones of the paper kind. I was wedged into the middle of the table and didn't feel like getting up to go to the bathroom, so I just moistened the paper napkins with what little water was left in my glass and cleaned myself up as best I could given the tools I had. I had hoped that someone might think about clearing our table of dirty plates, but hope accomplishes nothing except the heightening of future disappointment.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8byu7lNI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZM_Rk13TrQY/s1600-h/mescalanzaaftermath.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/bayareabites/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/blogger/_KZHoi9aEvuk/Rrt8byu7lNI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZM_Rk13TrQY/s320/mescalanzaaftermath.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I am very glad I didn't get up to go to the restroom. As we abandoned our dinner, my friend Gary turned to all of us and said, \"Keep an eye on the door of the Ladies' Room and see what comes out. It's good.\"\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We all tried to keep up our conversations, but everyone kept staring at the Ladies' Room door. A couple of minutes passed. Nothing. A tall, fifty-something blonde entered and then exited two minutes or so later. Was that what we were supposed to be looking at? No, of course not. We'd all stared at her as she went in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As my attention was beginning to flag, out came a rather tall woman with enormous breasts that were so ill-contained by her overflowing tank top that her aureolae peeked over the top, though her shirt was partially covered by what looked like an open Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation 1814 leather jacket. Her stride was confident across the restaurant, even in her high heeled boots. She wet her index finger with her tongue and wiped the corners of her mouth as she walked. Someone at my table intimated that she might be a working girl. I thought perhaps she was just having the same issues with the excess of bordelaise I was.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then a man came out of the Ladies' Room adjusting his pants. I knew then that the joke I'd made about the the restaurant being a home for retired prostitutes wasn't too far off the mark. I'll just have to omit the word \"retired\" the next time I tell it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Considering the fact that this woman was a practitioner, one assumes, of the world's oldest profession, I thought her behavior best suited for the oldest restaurant, Tadich Grill. Since I don't know what the world's second oldest profession is, I was at a loss to give her any restaurant-appropriate career advice.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>No dessert was offered to us, though I had heard tell of flan being available. It would have been nice to have had a candle to blow out, to make a wish for my 38th year, but it seemed so obvious to me that this woman stole my birthday thunder. There was no way in hell I was going to out-blow a professional, so I let her have the honor. I just wonder what she wished for. I hope it was something nice.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/outside-729828.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/outside-729824.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003cbr>When a new restaurant opens, it's hard to know ahead of time how things will turn out. Some places get a lot of buzz but never live up to it, others turn out fabulous food but can't make ends meet. Some places are packed night after night, even if the food isn't anything to scream and shout about. Unless you have a trusted crystal ball in front of you, sorting out a restaurant's fate is usually the job of Father Time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But with \u003ca href=\"http://www.laiola.com/\">\u003cstrong>Laiola\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, even before I stepped inside I knew that the place was going to take off. Mostly, because a mere four days after opening -- without a liquor license, no less -- it already had. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I rolled up to the old Pizza My Heart location on Chestnut Street near 8 pm on a weekday night. The narrow storefront is all windows, and it was packed full of \u003ca href=\"http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/michaeljackson/pytprettyyoungthing.html\">\u003cstrong>P.Y.T.s\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, with more hanging around outside, madly texting friends to meet them there. A faint pinkish glow emanated from within thanks to the stunning pressed copper ceiling; it's a very flattering light for all the pretties (and the not-so-pretties, too).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I walked in, I was smacked in the face by the cold, hard truth: Laiola couldn't serve any wine yet. I looked behind the bar at all the shiny wine bottles and sighed. The good news? They were waiving corkage, and \u003ca href=\"http://www.nectarwinelounge.com\">\u003cstrong>Nectar Wine Lounge\u003c/strong>\u003c/a> down the street was kindly selling their retail wines at 10% off. I turned to my friend Karen to discuss who would go fetch a bottle, when I got even better news: My friend Brett was just finishing his meal at the bar, and he had more than half a bottle of albarino left. Would Karen and I like it? \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Let's see. Is Thomas Keller a perfectionist?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We plopped down next to Brett and, from our perch at the bar, watched one of the cooks drape thick slabs of succulent-looking slow-roasted piglet over a pile of gigante beans ($19). Plate after plate, the aroma was enough to reverse my unfavorable impression of roast suckling pig formed years ago in a heavy wooden-beamed restaurant outside Madrid. I vowed to try it again one day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Laiola bills itself as a \"California restaurant inspired by Spain\" -- and it's heavy on the Spain. A glance at the wine list showed it's all Spanish-grown or Spanish varietals, with most offerings by the individual miniature carafe or the bottle. A clever touch, those carafinas, which hold one-third of a bottle of wine. They look to be a great value, too, hovering near $10 apiece. Rumor has it that cocktails created by Camber Lay (Range, Frisson) will rock the house soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Chef Mark Denham (42 Degrees, Hawthorne Lane, Manresa, Postrio) has created a flexible menu, with a small selection of house-cured charcuterie, a dozen appetizers, a handful of entrees, and a few quick desserts. We opted to share a series of tapas, and loved the spicy salchicon ($6), five fire-engine red coins of pork sausage served on a slab of wood. Laiola's website says it's made from \"a mix of coarsely ground Niman Ranch pork shoulder and back fat seasoned with plenty of Pimenton garlic, chile powder and cayenne pepper.\" Mmm. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/laiola-sardines-757031.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/laiola-sardines-757028.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We also oohed and aahed over the marinated local sardines, garden vegetables in escabeche ($11), crisp local sardines roasted and served atop baby vegetables like carrots, shallots, and cauliflower, each pickled in their own brine. I'm calling this the dish of the summer. Like the equally good version at \u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/2007/07/my-nua-favorite-restaurant.jsp\">\u003cstrong>Nua\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, it alternates between salty and sweet, cool and hot, crisp and soft. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The deep fryer was down so we didn't get to sample the patatas bravas ($6), a classic Spanish dish comprised of thick wedges of potatoes dressed with spicy aioli. But the bacon-wrapped Medjool dates stuffed with chorizo, grilled, and drizzled with aged Balsamic vinegar more than made up for their absence. They looked like small brown lumps when they arrived, but they were so smoky-sweet and good that I didn't mind burning my fingers or my tongue to finish them off. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Service was adept, and our knowledageable waitress was full of passionate recommendations. Not all of them paid off -- the side dish of rapini, for example, was undercooked and fibrous -- but given that Laiola was only four days old and besieged by malfunctioning kitchen equipment, delinquent paperwork, and masses of hungry diners, I forgave them their trespasses. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/rapini-793766.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/rapini-793764.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We didn't have dessert, but I was sorely tempted, especially after watching Brett slather toast with thick chocolate ganache drizzled with fruity Arbequina olive oil and a dash of Maldon sea salt ($7). It's a dish I've had before, even made before, and I speak from experience when I say it is the epitome of divine simplicity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When we left Laiola, it was still buzzing (still!) even though no wine could be sold on premises in this notoriously \"thirsty\" neighborhood. It is already a place to see and be seen, but it is also a place to eat -- and eat well -- and, like the patina on the copper bar, I expect it will only improve with age.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Laiola\u003cbr>2031 Chestnut Street \u003cbr>(415) 346-5641\u003cbr>San Francisco\u003cbr>*No reservations*\u003cbr>Open 7 days a week, 5:30 - 10:30 pm (bar open till 11 pm)\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We plopped down next to Brett and, from our perch at the bar, watched one of the cooks drape thick slabs of succulent-looking slow-roasted piglet over a pile of gigante beans ($19). Plate after plate, the aroma was enough to reverse my unfavorable impression of roast suckling pig formed years ago in a heavy wooden-beamed restaurant outside Madrid. I vowed to try it again one day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Laiola bills itself as a \"California restaurant inspired by Spain\" -- and it's heavy on the Spain. A glance at the wine list showed it's all Spanish-grown or Spanish varietals, with most offerings by the individual miniature carafe or the bottle. A clever touch, those carafinas, which hold one-third of a bottle of wine. They look to be a great value, too, hovering near $10 apiece. Rumor has it that cocktails created by Camber Lay (Range, Frisson) will rock the house soon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Chef Mark Denham (42 Degrees, Hawthorne Lane, Manresa, Postrio) has created a flexible menu, with a small selection of house-cured charcuterie, a dozen appetizers, a handful of entrees, and a few quick desserts. We opted to share a series of tapas, and loved the spicy salchicon ($6), five fire-engine red coins of pork sausage served on a slab of wood. Laiola's website says it's made from \"a mix of coarsely ground Niman Ranch pork shoulder and back fat seasoned with plenty of Pimenton garlic, chile powder and cayenne pepper.\" Mmm. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/laiola-sardines-757031.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/laiola-sardines-757028.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We also oohed and aahed over the marinated local sardines, garden vegetables in escabeche ($11), crisp local sardines roasted and served atop baby vegetables like carrots, shallots, and cauliflower, each pickled in their own brine. I'm calling this the dish of the summer. Like the equally good version at \u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/2007/07/my-nua-favorite-restaurant.jsp\">\u003cstrong>Nua\u003c/strong>\u003c/a>, it alternates between salty and sweet, cool and hot, crisp and soft. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The deep fryer was down so we didn't get to sample the patatas bravas ($6), a classic Spanish dish comprised of thick wedges of potatoes dressed with spicy aioli. But the bacon-wrapped Medjool dates stuffed with chorizo, grilled, and drizzled with aged Balsamic vinegar more than made up for their absence. They looked like small brown lumps when they arrived, but they were so smoky-sweet and good that I didn't mind burning my fingers or my tongue to finish them off. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Service was adept, and our knowledageable waitress was full of passionate recommendations. Not all of them paid off -- the side dish of rapini, for example, was undercooked and fibrous -- but given that Laiola was only four days old and besieged by malfunctioning kitchen equipment, delinquent paperwork, and masses of hungry diners, I forgave them their trespasses. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/rapini-793766.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/rapini-793764.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We didn't have dessert, but I was sorely tempted, especially after watching Brett slather toast with thick chocolate ganache drizzled with fruity Arbequina olive oil and a dash of Maldon sea salt ($7). It's a dish I've had before, even made before, and I speak from experience when I say it is the epitome of divine simplicity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When we left Laiola, it was still buzzing (still!) even though no wine could be sold on premises in this notoriously \"thirsty\" neighborhood. It is already a place to see and be seen, but it is also a place to eat -- and eat well -- and, like the patina on the copper bar, I expect it will only improve with age.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Laiola\u003cbr>2031 Chestnut Street \u003cbr>(415) 346-5641\u003cbr>San Francisco\u003cbr>*No reservations*\u003cbr>Open 7 days a week, 5:30 - 10:30 pm (bar open till 11 pm)\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"disqusTitle": "Eat This: 1,001 Things to Eat Before You Diet",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/51ckufXNuPL._SS500_-742600.jpg\">\u003cimg src=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/51ckufXNuPL._SS500_-742578.jpg\" alt=\"\" border=\"0\">\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Summer reading should be pleasant fare. Though I had found perverse comfort earlier this season in Barbara Tuchman's \u003ca href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Distant_Mirror\">A Distant Mirror\u003c/a>-- the wars and epidemics of our own century seem paltry when compared to the Hundred Years' War and Bubonic Plague of the 14th-- I felt that, just perhaps, I should read something slightly more upbeat; something that didn't cause me to frequently check myself for lice, fleas or imaginary buboes. Something fun. Something food-related.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I was saved from reading MFK Fisher's \u003ca href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Art-Eating-M-F-Fisher/dp/0020322208\">The Art of Eating\u003c/a> for the 17th time when Ian Jackman's \u003ca href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Eat-This-Things-Before-Diet/dp/0060885904\">Eat This: 1,001 Things to Eat Before You Diet\u003c/a> fell into my hot --and mercifully plague-free-- little hands.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Jackman spent two years writing about and several more eating his way through farmers markets, hot dog stands, panaderias and testicle festivals-- and any place else that serves up food in this country. The result is an entertaining, mind-blowing catalogue of regional American food traditions and obsessions.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Eat This satisfies my criteria for pleasant fare-- something I can pick up and put down, jumping from chapter to chapter without getting lost. Though not a comprehensive work (which is impossible be given the expanse of this country, so don't cry about the omission of scuppernongs), it is a work of astonishing breadth, fascinating food facts and inspiration for many a future food hajj.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I first flipped through these 382 pages of information, I was overcome with regret that no one ever uttered the words \"road trip\" to me. Not once. \"Vegas\" was about as far as it went, and culinary adventure was not the motivation behind that utterance. As I browsed further, skipping about between chapters in Part One: Eating In that seem organized like sections in a supermarket, I came across bits of food history I could relate to-- my father's fascination with \u003ca href=\"http://www.tastykake.com/HomepageTemplate.aspx?PostingID=21&ChannelID=2\">Tastykakes\u003c/a> in the Bakery chapter, my aunt's penchant for feeding her dog on Chateaubriand while the rest of us ate pasta in Meat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Part Two: Eating Out is crammed with information not only on what to eat and where to eat it but, for example and (to me) much more fascinating, how a national dish such as the hamburger varies from region to region. A Sloppy Joe-like Dynamite? Go to Rhode Island. Butter Burger? Try Solly's Grill in Madison, Wisconsin. I'll need to ask my Madison contact about that one.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The bits of trivia Jackman picked up along the way are filling up the few remaining parts of my brain as yet unsaturated with useless information, which suits me just fine. From Eric Schlosser's \u003ca href=\"http://books.google.com/books?id=yNFN1OpnkBkC&dq=fast+food+nation&pg=PP1&ots=l_lioE8r83&sig=bLmDkp0Y4C6TF-SiZ4Gf8a99wz8&prev=http://www.google.com/search%3Fq%3Dfast%2520food%2520nation%26sourceid%3Dmozilla2%26ie%3Dutf-8%26oe%3Dutf-8&sa=X&oi=print&ct=title\">Fast Food Nation\u003c/a>, Jackman shares a wonderfully creepy burger fact:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Q: Which two American institutions were founded in San Bernadino, California, in 1948?\u003cbr>A: McDonald's and The Hell's Angels.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you tell me that information isn't going to slip out of your mouth at the next barbecue you attend, I won't believe you.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, for every one item I've tasted or place I've visited (or worked at, for that matter-- four are mentioned in this book), there are 20 listed that I haven't-- a fact I regard with hope rather than frustration. Pancakes at the \u003ca href=\"http://www.pantrycafe.com/\">Original Pantry\u003c/a> in Los Angeles? Check. Hungarian Hot Dogs at \u003ca href=\"http://www.tonypackos.com/\">Tony Packo's\u003c/a> in Toledo, Ohio? On my to do list. My friend Gary's family is Hungarian and from Ohio. I've heard the stories, I've seen the photos. Jackman's credibility rating shot way up when I read that. Not that he needs my approval.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a country I have often viewed (from my cultural bubble of San Francisco) as alarmingly homogenized, where the lingua franca has been peppered with phrases like super-sized and non-fat venti, Eat This simply proves that there are still a lot of lumps in the American Melting Pot. Thank God.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As I step up the planning of my impending holiday in Greece next month, my thoughts are already turning to the next trip. I'm thinking somewhere more exotic. Like Vienna, Georgia. I've never been to the Big Pig Jig Barbecue Contest. I smell a road trip coming on but, this time, I won't wait around for someone to utter those words to me. I'll say them myself.\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/51ckufXNuPL._SS500_-712222.jpg\">\u003cbr>\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When I first flipped through these 382 pages of information, I was overcome with regret that no one ever uttered the words \"road trip\" to me. Not once. \"Vegas\" was about as far as it went, and culinary adventure was not the motivation behind that utterance. As I browsed further, skipping about between chapters in Part One: Eating In that seem organized like sections in a supermarket, I came across bits of food history I could relate to-- my father's fascination with \u003ca href=\"http://www.tastykake.com/HomepageTemplate.aspx?PostingID=21&ChannelID=2\">Tastykakes\u003c/a> in the Bakery chapter, my aunt's penchant for feeding her dog on Chateaubriand while the rest of us ate pasta in Meat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Part Two: Eating Out is crammed with information not only on what to eat and where to eat it but, for example and (to me) much more fascinating, how a national dish such as the hamburger varies from region to region. A Sloppy Joe-like Dynamite? Go to Rhode Island. Butter Burger? Try Solly's Grill in Madison, Wisconsin. I'll need to ask my Madison contact about that one.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The bits of trivia Jackman picked up along the way are filling up the few remaining parts of my brain as yet unsaturated with useless information, which suits me just fine. From Eric Schlosser's \u003ca href=\"http://books.google.com/books?id=yNFN1OpnkBkC&dq=fast+food+nation&pg=PP1&ots=l_lioE8r83&sig=bLmDkp0Y4C6TF-SiZ4Gf8a99wz8&prev=http://www.google.com/search%3Fq%3Dfast%2520food%2520nation%26sourceid%3Dmozilla2%26ie%3Dutf-8%26oe%3Dutf-8&sa=X&oi=print&ct=title\">Fast Food Nation\u003c/a>, Jackman shares a wonderfully creepy burger fact:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Q: Which two American institutions were founded in San Bernadino, California, in 1948?\u003cbr>A: McDonald's and The Hell's Angels.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you tell me that information isn't going to slip out of your mouth at the next barbecue you attend, I won't believe you.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, for every one item I've tasted or place I've visited (or worked at, for that matter-- four are mentioned in this book), there are 20 listed that I haven't-- a fact I regard with hope rather than frustration. Pancakes at the \u003ca href=\"http://www.pantrycafe.com/\">Original Pantry\u003c/a> in Los Angeles? Check. Hungarian Hot Dogs at \u003ca href=\"http://www.tonypackos.com/\">Tony Packo's\u003c/a> in Toledo, Ohio? On my to do list. My friend Gary's family is Hungarian and from Ohio. I've heard the stories, I've seen the photos. Jackman's credibility rating shot way up when I read that. Not that he needs my approval.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a country I have often viewed (from my cultural bubble of San Francisco) as alarmingly homogenized, where the lingua franca has been peppered with phrases like super-sized and non-fat venti, Eat This simply proves that there are still a lot of lumps in the American Melting Pot. Thank God.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As I step up the planning of my impending holiday in Greece next month, my thoughts are already turning to the next trip. I'm thinking somewhere more exotic. Like Vienna, Georgia. I've never been to the Big Pig Jig Barbecue Contest. I smell a road trip coming on but, this time, I won't wait around for someone to utter those words to me. I'll say them myself.\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/weblog/food/uploaded_images/51ckufXNuPL._SS500_-712222.jpg\">\u003cbr>\u003c/a>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"info": "A one-hour radio program to hear celebrated writers, artists and thinkers address contemporary ideas and values, often discussing the creative process. Please note: tapes or transcripts are not available",
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"airtime": "SUN 1pm-2pm, TUE 10pm, WED 1am",
"meta": {
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"source": "City Arts & Lectures"
},
"link": "https://www.cityarts.net",
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"rss": "https://www.cityarts.net/feed/"
}
},
"closealltabs": {
"id": "closealltabs",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
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"order": 1
},
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"id": "code-switch-life-kit",
"title": "Code Switch / Life Kit",
"info": "\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em>, which listeners will hear in the first part of the hour, has fearless and much-needed conversations about race. Hosted by journalists of color, the show tackles the subject of race head-on, exploring how it impacts every part of society — from politics and pop culture to history, sports and more.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em>, which will be in the second part of the hour, guides you through spaces and feelings no one prepares you for — from finances to mental health, from workplace microaggressions to imposter syndrome, from relationships to parenting. The show features experts with real world experience and shares their knowledge. Because everyone needs a little help being human.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510312/codeswitch\">\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/lifekit\">\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />",
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"id": "commonwealth-club",
"title": "Commonwealth Club of California Podcast",
"info": "The Commonwealth Club of California is the nation's oldest and largest public affairs forum. As a non-partisan forum, The Club brings to the public airwaves diverse viewpoints on important topics. The Club's weekly radio broadcast - the oldest in the U.S., dating back to 1924 - is carried across the nation on public radio stations and is now podcasting. Our website archive features audio of our recent programs, as well as selected speeches from our long and distinguished history. This podcast feed is usually updated twice a week and is always un-edited.",
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"source": "Commonwealth Club of California"
},
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cDovL3d3dy5jb21tb253ZWFsdGhjbHViLm9yZy9hdWRpby9wb2RjYXN0L3dlZWtseS54bWw",
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"title": "Forum",
"tagline": "The conversation starts here",
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"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Forum-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
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"order": 9
},
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM5NTU3MzgxNjMz",
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"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "WNYC"
},
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/freakonomics-radio/id354668519",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/Freakonomics-Radio-p272293/",
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},
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"id": "fresh-air",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=214089682&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
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"info": "A live production of NPR and WBUR Boston, in collaboration with stations across the country, Here & Now reflects the fluid world of news as it's happening in the middle of the day, with timely, in-depth news, interviews and conversation. Hosted by Robin Young, Jeremy Hobson and Tonya Mosley.",
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"hidden-brain": {
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"info": "Shankar Vedantam uses science and storytelling to reveal the unconscious patterns that drive human behavior, shape our choices and direct our relationships.",
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"airtime": "SUN 7pm-8pm",
"meta": {
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"source": "NPR"
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"link": "/radio/program/hidden-brain",
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"how-i-built-this": {
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"title": "How I Built This with Guy Raz",
"info": "Guy Raz dives into the stories behind some of the world's best known companies. How I Built This weaves a narrative journey about innovators, entrepreneurs and idealists—and the movements they built.",
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"airtime": "SUN 7:30pm-8pm",
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"link": "/radio/program/how-i-built-this",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/how-i-built-this-with-guy-raz/id1150510297?mt=2",
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"hyphenacion": {
"id": "hyphenacion",
"title": "Hyphenación",
"tagline": "Where conversation and cultura meet",
"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. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Hyphenacion_FinalAssets_PodcastTile.png",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
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"order": 15
},
"link": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
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"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/2p3Fifq96nw9BPcmFdIq0o?si=39209f7b25774f38",
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},
"jerrybrown": {
"id": "jerrybrown",
"title": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"tagline": "Lessons from a lifetime in politics",
"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. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Political-Mind-of-Jerry-Brown-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"meta": {
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"order": 18
},
"link": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
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},
"latino-usa": {
"id": "latino-usa",
"title": "Latino USA",
"airtime": "MON 1am-2am, SUN 6pm-7pm",
"info": "Latino USA, the radio journal of news and culture, is the only national, English-language radio program produced from a Latino perspective.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/latinoUsa.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://latinousa.org/",
"meta": {
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},
"link": "/radio/program/latino-usa",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=79681317&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
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"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510016/podcast.xml"
}
},
"marketplace": {
"id": "marketplace",
"title": "Marketplace",
"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.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 4pm-4:30pm, MON-WED 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Marketplace-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.marketplace.org/",
"meta": {
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"source": "American Public Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/marketplace",
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},
"masters-of-scale": {
"id": "masters-of-scale",
"title": "Masters of Scale",
"info": "Masters of Scale is an original podcast in which LinkedIn co-founder and Greylock Partner Reid Hoffman sets out to describe and prove theories that explain how great entrepreneurs take their companies from zero to a gazillion in ingenious fashion.",
"airtime": "Every other Wednesday June 12 through October 16 at 8pm (repeats Thursdays at 2am)",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "https://mastersofscale.com/",
"meta": {
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"source": "WaitWhat"
},
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"rss": "https://rss.art19.com/masters-of-scale"
}
},
"mindshift": {
"id": "mindshift",
"title": "MindShift",
"tagline": "A podcast about the future of learning and how we raise our kids",
"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>",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Mindshift-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED MindShift: How We Will Learn",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/mindshift/",
"meta": {
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"source": "kqed",
"order": 12
},
"link": "/podcasts/mindshift",
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM1NzY0NjAwNDI5",
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}
},
"morning-edition": {
"id": "morning-edition",
"title": "Morning Edition",
"info": "\u003cem>Morning Edition\u003c/em> takes listeners around the country and the world with multi-faceted stories and commentaries every weekday. Hosts Steve Inskeep, David Greene and Rachel Martin bring you the latest breaking news and features to prepare you for the day.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3am-9am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Morning-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/morning-edition/",
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"link": "/radio/program/morning-edition"
},
"onourwatch": {
"id": "onourwatch",
"title": "On Our Watch",
"tagline": "Deeply-reported investigative journalism",
"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?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/On-Our-Watch-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"meta": {
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"source": "kqed",
"order": 11
},
"link": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"subscribe": {
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5ucHIub3JnLzUxMDM2MC9wb2RjYXN0LnhtbD9zYz1nb29nbGVwb2RjYXN0cw",
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},
"on-the-media": {
"id": "on-the-media",
"title": "On The Media",
"info": "Our weekly podcast explores how the media 'sausage' is made, casts an incisive eye on fluctuations in the marketplace of ideas, and examines threats to the freedom of information and expression in America and abroad. For one hour a week, the show tries to lift the veil from the process of \"making media,\" especially news media, because it's through that lens that we see the world and the world sees us",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm-3pm, MON 12am-1am",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/onTheMedia.png",
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"meta": {
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"source": "wnyc"
},
"link": "/radio/program/on-the-media",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/on-the-media/id73330715?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-the-Media-p69/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/onthemedia"
}
},
"pbs-newshour": {
"id": "pbs-newshour",
"title": "PBS NewsHour",
"info": "Analysis, background reports and updates from the PBS NewsHour putting today's news in context.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/PBS-News-Hour-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/",
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"source": "pbs"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pbs-newshour",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pbs-newshour-full-show/id394432287?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/PBS-NewsHour---Full-Show-p425698/",
"rss": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/feeds/rss/podcasts/show"
}
},
"perspectives": {
"id": "perspectives",
"title": "Perspectives",
"tagline": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991",
"info": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Perspectives_Tile_Final.jpg",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/perspectives/",
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"source": "kqed",
"order": 14
},
"link": "/perspectives",
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