Eat Shit!

Posted on May 15, 2012 by ezealot

My father just visited and it reminded me of a post I’ve been pondering for a while. This one is completely dedicated to him and the [very pleasant] childhood memories I have of his influence on my eating habits. Dad, I will always be proud to credit your for my joyous propensity to eat shit.

I grew up in a restaurant family. My grandparents and their siblings, my parents and extended family were mostly in the business. I was surrounded by food all of the time. In New Jersey in the 70s there wasn’t much more than diners, greasy spoons, coffee shops and luncheonettes. One could debate the actual classifications of our restaurants (as my father and I did this weekend) but they’re all really just variations on similar themes.

We’re talking breakfasts of bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausages, hash browns, omelets – and, because were close to Philly, scrapple and creamed-chipped-beef. For lunch it was soups, sandwiches with house-roasted turkey and corned-beef, meatloaf, steak-fries, beef stew, spaghetti & meatballs, pies, ice cream and milkshakes. Needless to say, I wasn’t exposed to many vegetables or healthy meals in my youth.

The other factor that influenced my love of all-things-crap was growing up at the Jersey shore. The staple of our diet was the sub (please don’t call it a hoagie, grinder or other such abomination). We ate subs. Serious subs. The “regular” or “italian” sub was a concoction of assorted deli meats, including mortadella, salami, ham, capicola and provolone cheese – slathered in oil and vinegar and stuffed into a hollowed out Formica Brother’s Roll (it has to be this bread – nothing else will do). There was also great meatball, cheesesteak and tuna versions. A “half-a-sub” was about 12″ – not the healthiest proportions or ingredients. But so fucking good!

The Zolot men are lucky, beyond compare. We are graced with a metabolism that allows us to consume ungodly quantities without gaining an ounce of fat until we hit 40 and even then it’s just plain unfair what we can get away with into our 70s. This leads to many interesting habits formed over a lifetime of indulgence. My son is clearly following in our footsteps as he consumes three breakfasts daily and remains a bean pole. This explains how things go even more awry. But I digress, so back to the tales…

I first started to notice my father’s monstrous appetite at a young age when, at any dinner table, plates would be shifted in his direction at the end of the meal. Anything not consumed by anyone present would be devoured and treasured by this champion eater. He’d laugh and joke as he consumed everything we’d leave behind. There were times where you’d have to protect your plate because he would be eyeing something across the table (before you were finished) that appealed to him, a defense you’d be smart to practice even today in his presence.

I started to come into my own as our family began taking regular trips to Boston to visit relatives. Here, our prized site was Quincy Market at Faneuil Hall. This was the holy grail of food courts in the country at the time. And we would eat our way from end to end. We’d order everything from pizza to sausage and peppers to seafood to bbq and on and on. My goal was to keep up with Dad. It was our bonding moment. We did well. I grew into a champion myself.

Fast forward. I am 43 years old and I still crave the foods of my childhood. So much so that I almost feel like I lead a secret life. Even the people that know me the best don’t quite understand the depth of my compulsion towards these sorts of foods. When I was working a job that required me to travel around all of the neighborhoods in San Francisco to call upon clients, I had a mental map of the places, these special places, that satisfy my deepest cravings. I’d relish the opportunity to visit my most miserable Pacific Heights clients because of the opportunities that bordered me by both north and south. The rare call in the Mission led me into serious naughtiness. Even today, my girlfriend lives just off Polk Street and I can do some serious damage within two blocks…

With all of this buried deep inside me, it is time that I expose my inner-map and share the wonders of shitty eating in our wonderful town. As it is past midnight when I write this, I will start with the obvious. When inspiration brings me to add to the list, I will update. Certainly bookmark if you share my obsession. And if you don’t, please refrain from judgement, as I am merely a product of my genetic disposition and environment. Thanks Dad!

Bob’s Donuts – Since I am sitting a block away and can smell the frying of the apple fritter [in my mind at least] let’s start here. This is old school donuting. Nothing fancy, but seriously good. The above mentioned fritter, the crumb, the buttermilk. Try those first.

Miller’s East Coast Deli – A 1/2 block in the other direction. Here you can do damage with Matzoh Ball soup, latkes and blintzes, but what moves me to post is the breakfast sandwich. A bagel (flown in from NYC), egg and cheese with bacon or ham? Get the eggs fried so the yolks ooze onto the bread. This is the closest you’ll find to the real deal.

The Cheesesteak Shop – This small chain (my outlet is on Divis) brings everything in from Philly. But you have to know how to order. Get the meal deal with steak fries (curly fries are for girls) and make sure to get the extra meat (they tend to be weak on it with a regular order – that’s the big difference in making this authentic). Don’t forget to order TastyKakes for dessert – my favorites being Butterscotch Crimpets (my father too) and Peanut butter KandyCakes.

Lucca Deli – The one in the Marina, not on Valencia. Big difference. Here you get deviled eggs. Crazy good potato salad – I’m serious you MUST try this stuff. Try a mortadella sandwich on acme sweet with imported provolone and olive oil and vinegar. Maybe a side of their meat ravioli (eaten cold with your sandwich).

Molinari Deli – Molinari lacks in the deli case compared to Lucca in my opinion. But not to be outdone they’e got a chicken cutlet that makes me do backflips. I’ll eat them plain, but to really go for it is to get a chicken parm sandwich. Get extra sauce so you can dip. I dare you to grab a cannoli from Stella Pastry up the street. I’m not dicking around here, people.

Gaspare’s – So, while we’re talking chicken parm, there isn’t a better one on the west coast. Or a better lasagna or veal milanese. All of them are heart stoppers. But you also come for the pizza. You knew that. It’s the most satisfying non-neapolitan pie in the city. Order it with pepperoni for sure, but if you’re me, you might add meatballs AND sausage.

Russian Bakery – Did you think you’d leave Geary & 19th (just next door to Gaspare’s) without some treats to take home? How about Russian meat-stuffed donuts, also known as piroshki? They also do them with cheese. Or maybe some blintzes, or pastry of all sorts. I couldn’t tell you the names, but the thing with the poppy seeds and the napoleon-type thing. Sublime.

Flower Market Cafe – You didn’t think there were diners in San Francisco that come close to New Jersey. Well, you’re right. But I do enjoy the [lack of] ambiance and [lack of] charm of the Flower Market cafe. And the food actually isn’t so bad. I come for the corned-beef hash. It’s old school. So not fancy. Smothered in ketchup.

Pork Store Cafe – The most satisfying breakfast for me is at this Mission or Haight eatery. I ignore the entire menu in favor of bacon, eggs and hash browns (yes, real greasy crispy HBs) and a biscuit with a side of sausage gravy. You try this and tell me your day won’t include a nap and a serious bout of deep moral regret. And smiles.

St. Francis Fountain – milkshakes & french fries. Nuff said.

Hamburgers – That’s right, it’s the name of the place. 737 Bridgeway in Sausalito. I will drive across the bridge regularly for these puppies. A rotisserie grill, spinning perfect, unfancy burgers with crinkle-cut french fries. Call your order in ahead. The line can get insane in the summer.

Da’Beef – I love a proper Chicago dog. If you don’t know what this means, you might not get it. For those who do, there are two places I know of to get them. This cart keeps sporadic hours on the corner of 7th and Folsom. It’s worth tracking them down. Their italian beef isn’t bad either.

Moishe’s Pippic – If you want a more regular shot at the Chicago Dog, this Hayes Valley gem does them perfect. Plus you can get a mean Matzoh Ball soup, corned beef, pastrami, chopped liver and brisket (on fridays) sandwich. Plus Abel and Joe and two of the most affable people you’ll meet.

Gorilla BBQ – Drive down to Pacifica so you can eat solid BBQ out of a train caboose. The novelty is fun, but the food isn’t so shabby.

Memphis Minnies – But if you’re looking for decent BBQ in the city, Minnies is my pick. I like the unencumbered meat and their sauce choices. The mac and cheese is respectable.

Ok, you’ve got a great start here. More to come soon, I promise. And show me some love if you like these. I want to hear your favorites.

And more…

Arinell is what a New York slice of pizza should be (on Valencia St). It’s greasy, it’s big, it comes with tattoos, meth heads and a ton of funk. And they’ve got a proper slice of Sicilian. That is real east-coast.

McDonalds – I’m gonna go out on a limb here. Piss off some people. But at breakfast time, the unholiest of chains has the deal of deals on a satisfying tidbit. The dollar menu. Hash browns and Sausage McMuffin or Sausage Biscuit $2.17 with tax – yes I know that. There, I said it. I do this sometimes and I’m tired of hiding it. And it’s really fucking satisfying in a way for which I should be locked up. Sue me. Take away my foodie creds. You’re all snobs anyway.

Speaking of satisfying, I have to mention, with no apparent benefit to anyone, that I tried to most amazing breakfast burrito last year at my friend’s annual party in Paso Robles and I cannot wait to have it again this year. The crazy woman who made these put eggs, sausage, crispy hash browns, bits of biscuits and sausage gravy in a burrito. Never had better.

Ketch Joanne – I failed to get enough deep fried action for you. And for that, I’m headed down to Pillar Point Harbor, right where I get my crabs off the boat. Fish and chips, fried shrimp – anything fried is good here, and also clam chowder. Run down, down home, home style – all good.

Tu Lan – Continuing with fried, their fried spring rolls are nom nom times nom nom. Sure, get some ginger chicken or other such nonsense, but a proper Vietnamese spring roll (done with lettuce, noodles, carrots, sweet sauce, mint) is a thing of epic beauty. Plus it’s 6th Street. And if something is going down, it’s going down on 6th Street.

Happy-Ness

Posted on January 30, 2012 by ezealot

We tend to go through our lives, head down, plugging away at the things we do to pay our bills, to entertain us, to keep in shape, to connect with our community and to stimulate our minds. This is the best way I can describe life in the modern era. We use technology to attempt to better our existence, but I believe in hindsight these will be seen as the dark ages. We’re suffering through inefficiencies in order to embrace the possibility of better living through technology, but we’re far from there.

Last year I had an idea. A clear vision, that made my heart race and kept me up at nights with child-like excitement that I may have found my way to contribute to the collective. A solution to a problem. A big problem. The right solution.

I shared my idea with a handful of my circle and it was deemed a great idea, for the most part. I enlisted my greater community to guide me is moving this idea forward and connect me to others that could help complete the vision. I sat in front of a handful of generous colleagues in the venture capital world who would help me to refine this idea and take steps towards building something.

One of my advisors put me in touch with a lovely and talented young lad named Ben. Ben is a rising star in the tech world and holds the attention of many people through his popular reporting and musings on the business of tech. Ben flipped for the idea and saw a better future as a result of it. We instantly clicked and decided to partner and get down to business.

I quickly learned that most technology startups need to be bootstrapped to create a product, any product, before any investor will talk to you. It’s the way things are done now. Ideas don’t float like in the days of bubble and bloat. You need a tangible representation of your ability to build and create. I leaned that a startup is best founded by the general personality types of a designer, a distributor and a developer. We needed a developer.

I soon learned that many of the great software developers are poached early-on to work for Google or Facebook. And those with experience often start their own projects. I went to “Founder Dating” events to track down engineering talent and realized that there are many many people who are trying to fulfill their dreams of better living through technology. I learned that most people don’t go very far with it.

Ben and I hit a wall. This idea was just too good to let it slip away, but neither of us were able to find an entrepreneurial-minded engineer co-founder. We had to pay our bills. We gently let the idea slip. I took the summer off to hang out with my son. Ben starting looking around for other things.

Whilst exploring the world of internet startups, two of my advisors told me about a similar concept that was under development by a team of young, enthusiastic and well-connected silicon valley / Berkeley minds. I was intrigued. Truth be told, after twenty years of doing the entrepreneurial heavy lifting, I was ready to consider a back seat. Perhaps my next pathway was on the shoulders of those smarter and more aggressive than I?

The idea that I had last year, the one that kept me up at nights and that offered better living through technology was essentially directed at this problem… The thing we lack most right now in our daily attempts to use technology to get what we want, is relevancy. We search, research, click, dig, read, review, filter, sort, gauge, judge, ask, refine, share, borrow, test, report, compare, and on and on. Then, after all of this, we decide. It all just seems like we’ve given ourselves information overload through the likes of Google and Yelp and we’ve complicated life rather than simplify it. Technology is not helping us.

There are a lot of people trying to solve this problem. Unfortunately, I think most of them have missed the target. I won’t get into specifics and only time will tell who floats to the top. Sure there are many ways to skin a cat (by the way, how much do I LOVE this phrase and hate cats at the same time!), so time will tell who has the secret sauce. Enter Ness.

Ness is short for Likeness (http://likeness.com) and is answering the problem in the exact way I envisioned, perhaps even better. They are using machine learning to predict human behavior and suggest solutions to the shit over which we obsess and waste time. The idea is that everybody has their own “Ness”. I have AdamNess, you have YourNess. It’s the thing that defines us. It’s what separates us from each other. Yet we overlap, we cross-pollinate, we share and influence and make similar choices. So, Ness understands who we are and who others are enough to recommend things we’ll likely like.

Their first demonstration of this technology is in the Ness Dining Guide iPhone application (link to iTunes). Check it out. See how it does for you. I’d love to hear what you think. Why? Because the Zealot is entering the workforce again. Yes, so you’ve probably figured out that this post is a pitch in support of my current employer (currently as a consultant). But I don’t shill for just any company. These guys are the real deal and I believe in this thing. So, I’m giving you the inside scoop. Go get yours.

There are many ways this technology could help us beyond food: books, movies, events, travel, etc…Ultimately Ness can change the way we make decisions. In theory, if something knew us well enough to narrow our choices, technology would actually make our lives easier. It’s a simple concept with a complicated solution. It’s the current tech holy grail.

So off I go into that goodNess. I shall continue to muse to you, my loyals. And perhaps one of these days I’ll get back to talking about restaurants or food. Or, maybe, you won’t need me anymore if Ness does its job.

The Secret Sauce

Posted on December 13, 2011 by ezealot

I’ve lived a fine life. When I was 16, as many young American Hebrews do, I took a trip to Israel to explore the motherland and deepen my connection to the religion. For me it worked in the other direction. I saw so many secular Israelis, seemingly fulfilling the Zionist mission, yet absent of piety and reverence. They just were. People connected to their history but not wrapped up in god or dogma. I never looked back.

Then came college. Somehow, I cannot recall how I wound up doing my final year abroad in Italy. Seriously, I don’t know what led me to this decision. I knew nothing abut the place, had no connection (other than my mother’s half-Italian heritage, which merely meant good spaghetti and meatballs in our house). But there I was, deep in the experience of learning Italian history, culture, language, art, archaeology… I never looked back.

After I graduated college my first and only job was in the travel industry. I stumbled upon it while looking for anything I could do after moving to Boulder, Colorado on a whim. I was planning to study nautical archaeology at CU, as there was a professor who focused on Roman ports in Israel, the perfect marriage of my passions. To pay the bills, I took a position with a tour company specializing in adventures in Southeast Asia. I was a Mac guy that could work magic on their Filemaker database. Soon I was spending months a year in Asia building their sales division and becoming a noted expert on travel in Asia. I never looked back.

I’m fortunate to say that travel is my greatest passion that I’ve continually fulfilled. It’s my familiar. I slip it on easily. Throughout the ups and downs of life, I always seek to create new experiences by discovering new lands. In fact, I really live for the next trip. No matter what I’m doing, I want to know that I have two or three weeks in the not so distant future that will recharge my batteries. It the only way I know how to accept and manage the doldrums of normal life (ok, it’s not so bad, really…but you get the point).

Now, on the road in Argentina, discovering a new place, yet again, with a life very different than my last trip to Spain in 2010 and Greece in 2009, I’ve noticed a trend. First, it doesn’t matter where life has taken us, when we travel we reconnect with ourselves. Without the pressures of our daily grind, the expectations we set for ourselves, the routine…it’s easier to get to the root and be present. Moreover, when we experience another culture a traveler will relinquish his predisposition, ignorance and fears and become more receptive to what the universe offers. We let go a little easier, we experience a little deeper.

On this trip I’ve already found a deep connection to Argentina. I know it, even after just a few days. The formula adds up – they have the secret sauce. It’s not hard for my readers to see that my favorite places in the world are Thailand and Italy. I speak both languages passably and have returned time and again, something I haven’t done in many of the other lands I’ve visited. When I look at the commonalities between the places, and now add Argentina to the mix, there is a pattern: I like places that have a broad geographical diversity, Thailand’s north and south couldn’t be more different. Italy’s have practically seceded from each other. Argentina has Patagonia and wine country and Buenos Aires and more. There’s a casual elegance about everything here. Its not Europe, but it’s got the same charm. Then there are the people, friendly and welcoming all across the board. In each of these places you really feel like you can get a sense of their true experience. They welcome you to participate.

But most importantly, and I wouldn’t be the Zealot if it weren’t so, each country reigns supreme on their continent for food. Sure, you can argue that Vietnamese is better than Thai or French is superior to Italian or the Brazilians or Chileans outdo the Argentines. But this is my blog and I’m the one ranting. So, I’ll say it. Thai, Italian and Argentine food sensibilities speak to me and I consider them the best. I dream of Thai noodles and curries. I lust after handmade pasta and regional Italian cuisine. And so far, I’m quite impressed with Argentine seafood, empanadas and of course the beef. I’m looking forward to two more weeks of exploration.

I love that there are common threads in these places. I am glad to be uncovering this secret sauce of my own. I’m positively certain we all have our own secret sauces. It helps me to understand me a little better. It gives me joy to have places that I can return and feel at home, so far away, yet so familiar. I’m loving being present. And, I’ll never look back…

It’s The Ingredients, Stupid!

Posted on December 11, 2011 by ezealot

I’ve reached the ass-end of the world, and it’s actually quite lovely! No joke…after a three hour flight to Dallas followed by a ten hour flight to Buenos Aires, then a fourty-five minute bus ride to Aeroparque and a four hour flight to Ushuaia, you just run out of room. There ain’t much further you can travel.

In fact, when looking at the expansion patterns of early man, starting in the Rift Valley, across the Bering Strait land bridge, through the Americas – this was the last place they landed. 10,000 years ago, when civilizations were starting to develop in earnest (good morning Mesopotamia!), the last place mankind reached was here. Tierra Del Fuego. Cape Horn. Bumfuck Argentina.

There’s a barren windswept quality to the place. Rugged mountains, frigid seas. Big ice-breakers and Antartica-bound cruise ships. Yet it is still Argentina, which means really-charming, European (almost), civilized, and… well-fed. Stunning, actually. And who would expect, a place to find a really good meal. Really good.

I’d read about the quality restaurants in Ushuaia, but that’s very relative and subjective. I certainly can’t trust Yelp or Tripadvisor for relevant reviews. Ness, the only recommendation resource of any worth, hasn’t expanded outside of the USA, so I’m left to my own devices. Tales of legendary fish at a place called Kaupè lured us to try, even though prices were more in line with Danko than Ushuaia. Lonely Planet ranked this place the #4 restaurant in South America. Here? Really?

We entered a lovely house-like dining room where the chef-owner was standing in his whites, talking to guests. The place had a hush to it like many temples-of-food I’d visited in the past. Not as quiet as French Laundry, but that similar anticipatory reverence. The view is lovely, with large windows opening up to the Channel Beagle. There were large hunks of pure white fish on most plates, blinding white, impossibly white. There were few accoutrements.

We ordered from a small food menu and a massive wine list of argentine varietals. Katia would have a Sea Bass in black butter. She was craving fish, singing about it, dancing at the thought after our two days of travel and airplane food. King Crab in the chef’s sauce for me. Carpaccio and scallop appetizers. Malbec.

Hot yummy house-made bread was delivered with a spinach cream in lieu of butter. Heavenly. The wine was sublime. Scallops were fresh and tasty swimming in a light interpretation of Lyonaisse. The carpaccio was outrageous, topped with a local cheese and large capers. Everyone talks about the quality of Argentine beef. My first taste was raw and it was magic.

But it was the white brick of fish we wanted. When it came to the table we nearly needed sunglasses. Did I mention it was snow white? One bite and Katia melted: “best fish I’ve ever had”. The sauce was excellent, but it really just complimented the moist and tender sea bass. It didn’t need much. We plowed through it with abandon, almost treating my wonderful king crab as a side dish.

A quick non sequitur. The one side dish we did have were some potatoes with a light mustard sauce. Any time I travel, potatoes are extremely different than home. Small in stature, deep in flavor, the non-US potato is a treat. Most US potatoes leave me flat. Why can’t we figure this one out. Even the best farmers market potatoes seem to lack that non-US depth of flavor. Maybe it’s the water?

Which leads me to the title of this post. After our meal we sat and talked with the chef until closing time. He was quiet and affable, self-taught…a local, in fact. This left me quizzical. what was his preparation of this fish, what was the technique? How did he accomplish what our trained chefs in SF seem to miss so often with fish? He smiled and said “it’s the ingredients” (I’ve added the ‘stupid’ part to reflect my own snarkiness). The fish, the beef, the potatoes – he gets them every day from the source and they happen to be very good sources.

I’ll give the man more credit for his handling of these ingredient, but as we all quest for perfection in our culinary goals it’s not a bad mantra to keep in our heads: As we murder, molest, marinade and mangle our food sometime we need to just step back, get to the root of flavor and remember that “It’s the ingredients, stupid”.

The Five Course Thanksgiving

Posted on November 25, 2011 by ezealot

I’m just scraping myself up off the floor. Literally. Last night I slept on my couch, in my bed, on my ottoman, on a storage bench and, yes, on the floor. You see, I think I’ve been very vocal about our Thanksgiving tequila tradition. Last night was no exception. In fact, it was epic. There were loving, heated discussions at decibels that can crack ear drums. There were torrid hookups and meltdowns, singing, crying and vomiting. There was also a lot of love. My family and friends came together and weren’t shy about expressing their feelings. Aided by the tequila, it was a true love fest. And I got shitty drunk.

Now, as a look back on the day, which began at noon and ended around 10:30pm, I can’t recall any stress from cooking or the flow of the night. Everything went nearly perfectly. I’ll blame the tequila for the slightly overcooked bread puddings and definitely for the full-on-burnt-croutons. Imagine how I could fuck up BOTH dishes with Tartine Country Bread? Oy.

So, I’m standing by my previous post. My preparations were spot-on and the food exceeded my expectations. Which leads me to another topic on Thanksgiving that is post-worthy. How do you plan a day of food, with a lot of attendees without suffering from cacophonous plate syndrome? Typical Thanksgiving just doesn’t work. Sweet potatoes AND mashed potatoes on the same place? Turkey, stuffing, cranberries, vegetables, bread rolls side by side? Sorry – it’s just doesn’t work. Yeah, I know, it’s your tradition – you look forward to it every year. But from a foodist perspective, it’s just plain wrong.

So, for the past ten years or so, I’ve been doing Thanksgiving in courses. Start early, plan to include some of the typical flavors in the starter courses, but eliminate some of the clutter from the main course. All tolled, I probably cook 3-4 starter dishes, small plates, lots of flavor. Then comes the main course, typically with Turkey, potato, stuffing, veggie. It’s still a lot, but works a lot cleaner than the norm. Then we have two or three dessert options.

I typically reinterpret sweet potatoes. This is a food that can have many faces and has shown up as Sweet Potato Risotto, Sweet Potato Tortilla Espanola, Sweet Potato Gnocchi and this year’s Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Browned Butter Sage Cream. I used a Thomas Keller Recipe ‘to the letter’ and it was drop-dead amazing.

This year, the menu looked like this:

Guests arrive at noon. Cousin Amy rocked a charcuterie ensemble for the ages. AND she made Gougères, straight outta Julia Child. They were stunning.

1. (1:00pm) Crab-Cake-Style Shrimp Cakes with Poblano Greek Yogurt Puree
2. (2:00pm) Sliky Celery Root Soup with Black Forest Bacon
3. (3:00pm) Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Browned Butter Sage Cream
4. (5:00pm) Cider Glazed Turkey with Lager Gravy
Savory Bread Puddings with Green Onion, Sage Sausage and Goat Cheese
Marsha’s Mashed Potatoes
Dirty Girl Farm’s Radicchio Salad with Pomegranate Vinaigrette
5. (8:00pm) Amy’s Pear Crisp with Bourbon Cream
Tartine Coconut Cream Tart and Assorted Cookies
“Baked” Red Velvet Layered Cake

The timing went off without a hitch. Because everything was prepped, it was just a matter of minor finishes and assembly for each dish. After we finished a dish it gave us a chance to clean up and mingle. It feels like you really get to catch up with people this way.

I’m happy to share most of these recipes, but frankly, you can google or search foodandwine.com to uncover many of them (my crab cake recipe is on this site). I do a lot of interpretation and adaptation of the base recipes, but it’s a good start. Some day I should share the soup recipe – I kinda rocked it.

So ditch the traditional nonsense. Go for Thanksgiving in courses. Your guests will appreciate it and soon forget the messy plate piles of portions past.

* Note: Crab season didn’t happen this year. The fisherman are in dispute with the buyers over $.50 per pound. It’s a shame, as this is our favorite tradition each year. The substitution of shrimp was a game-saver (they were quite good), but it just isn’t the same. A big shout out to Tom Borden for paddling his surfboard out in epic swells to drop traps. Unfortunately he on came up with two crabs (he believes the traps were poached).

The Four Days of Thanksgiving

Posted on November 23, 2011 by ezealot

By choosing atheism I have taken the wind out of a lot of holidays. I could easily get bogged down in a defensive posture to rally against the inconsistencies and fairytales that comprise the pandemic delusions we call religion. Ebenezer Scrooge ain’t got nothing on an atheist. With all of our crazy ‘logic’ and silly ‘reason’ we approach the holidays with skepticism and sensitivity that can suck out the joy and the merry.

Some could argue that we don’t deserve to celebrate many holidays and we should just leave the praising parties to the pious. Historically, I call foul. Atheists love to point out that many of the holidays celebrated today are actually poached from pagan traditions. Your Christmas was really winter solstice. Your easter was a fertility festival. And we all know that Hanukah is just an excuse for Jews to give presents, not to be outdone by their Christian neighbors.

Thanksgiving, while decidedly non-religious, isn’t without exception. In my twenties and thirties I would call it “the rape and pillage of the Native American homeland day”. Today, that just seems douchey. In my forties life is all about acceptance, awareness and balance. Moreover, I’d rather focus my energies on being a foodist and a hedonist. A Holiday centered around food. Sign me up!

Plus there’s this whole idea of giving thanks – what a novel concept! In the past few years I’ve undergone a deep exploration of the nature of appreciation, giving and receiving. A dear old friend and mentor, Jim Freedom recently told me “If you ask yourself what you really want from life, would that not include what we call the ‘light’; appreciation, joy, love, gratitude? And that comes with practice. The quality of our life experience is reflected in how we emotionally react to what life is offering.” Damn, that’s some good juice!

So what better way for me, the zealous epicurean, to offer thanks & appreciate to my community – to the universe, than through food! Thanksgiving is the perfect holiday for me and mine. As a child I loved visiting my relatives in Boston for Thanksgiving, who now live out here in California. We’ve re-dedicated a tradition to celebrate together with my friends and extended family here. Through college and beyond I developed many of my current Thanksgiving practices (tequila, in particular) with the Colorado contingent of my family. I miss celebrating with them and hope someday we can join forces again. And, for the past decade, I’ve become the host. I own Thanksgiving. It’s my hold-it-now. It’s my rhyme.

I hear many people get nervous about preparing the annual meal-of-meals. Like New Year’s Eve is for partying, Thanksgiving is amateur night for cooking. It’s the one time a year many people will host a dozen-twenty people and they’re stymied. The problem is in the preparation. Many people don’t allow themselves the time to tackle turkey-day tenderly. It’s a four-day event, people. No more, no less. You don’t need full days, just a few hours each to get in stride for cooking on Wed.

DAY 1 – Monday
You should have planned a menu a while ago. In my next post I will share with you my 2011 menu. I like to reinvent traditional dishes and sometimes tackle a theme. With the right preparation you can actually get creative. Go to foodandwine.com or saveur.com or epicurious.com – narrow down your choices and print out a stack of options. Plan to enter Monday with recipes in hand, raring to go.

Create your shopping list today. I find the best way is to take all of the recipes and go through them one by one, listing the ingredients on a spreadsheet. Then put the amounts of each item in the row (for example butter might have 8tbs + 2 sticks + 4tbs for multiple recipes). Then I’ll add up the amounts and round them up to cover my butt. I’ll add a column to identify which store to obtain the item (I often hit 3-4 stores for Thanksgiving). You could even break it down by sections within the store (produce, dairy). This makes it easy to tackle the shopping tomorrow.

Day 2 – Tuesday
Get your shopping done today. Everyone else is going to be clambering at the stores on Wed. go early when the shelves are stocked and the staff aren’t burnt out.

I also use Tuesday to do my most advance preparations. Anything I can cut, prep, chop or prepare and freeze today, knock it out. The more you finish today, the easier tomorrow will be.

Day 3 – Wednesday
This is your big day. If you want to actually enjoy Thanksgiving, get it done today. It is important to think about execution tomorrow and how you can utilize the available oven and stovetop space effectively. Remember, the turkey is going to take up the entire oven for most of the day. If you can prepare the other oven dishes to near finality, you can heat them up while the turkey is resting. We often plan our meals in multiple courses to avoid the major crush of turkey time. It allows us to space out the day and relax a little bit, enjoying each dish on it’s own (of course you want to have your turkey and it’s sides together, but try to keep the plate piling to a minimum).

Prepare everything so that the dishes that must be cooked tomorrow (turkey and mashed potatoes are the only ones I leave for Thursday) can be done with ease and focus. Brine or season your turkey and put it aside. Start your gravy with the neck and giblets and put it aside to add turkey juices tomorrow. Get all of your side dishes completely done and ready to finish a la minute. Your fridge should be stacked high with everything labeled and a schedule in hand of how you will execute. Moreover, you should prepare your serving dishes (with labels) and serving utensils. Don’t leave anything to chance.

Day 4 – Thursday
I put my turkey in the oven early. I cook it low and slow. Real slow. Potatoes go along side. Everyone else is busying setting the tables and decorating so I can focus on basting the bird, pulling things in an out of the oven and executing dish after dish with minimal effort. When my guests arrive (we start at noon), I want to be able to mix and mingle and only return to the kitchen to put the final touches on something before it is served.

So, on this day of Thanks – I wish my best to you and yours. Many of my readers are part of my family, my community. We’re all connected in one way or another. I revel in the glory of connection. I am thankful for the wonderful people in my life and for the opportunity to share my views and be heard. Enjoy your Thanksgiving, hopefully with some organized calm. If not, next year. Now you know.

Thought Different

Posted on October 6, 2011 by ezealot

I’m not much for mourning. Truth is, I tend to take the cosmic view that we’re just a bunch of worthless meat-sacks that occupy a cooling lava rock with an incredibly random collection of evolutionary circumstances that keep us ahead of our ever-impending extinction. We’re always just one meteor strike shy of going the way of the dinosaur. Someone dies. Yes, and…

But with Steve Jobs I feel like I’ve been witness to the life of a historical figure that rivals the greatest that have ever occupied the planet. To me, Steve actually helped to make it worthwhile to live on this rock. He fused the realms of work and leisure into a holistic life, fueled by innovation in the exciting world of computing technology. He dared to analyze the way humans interact with themselves, each other, things – and decided to change it by enlisting some of the greatest minds of our time to simply make life better. Thousands of years from now (if the meteor hasn’t hit yet) people (or whatever evolves [x-men] or devolves [tea party] next as the dominant beings) will remember Mr. Jobs singularly. When you weed out the riff raff of potential historical potent potables spanning the centuries that comprise the American Empire, I believe that the legacy of Apple Computer and the era of Steve Jobs will be at the top of a short list of those that have profoundly had an unquestionable affect on the course of humanity.

Steve Jobs

This may sound like extreme fanboyism. I’ll allow myself such extremities. If there is one avenue that I have traveled without falter over the last 25 years, it is my unswerving dedication to all things Apple. I can proudly say that since 1985 I have not used any other brand of computer as my primary instrument of work and pleasure than an Apple. I have owned Plus, II, SE, Classic, Quadra, Powerbook, Powerbook Duo, LC, PowerMac, Power Macintosh, G3, G4, DV, iMac Colors, iMac DV, iMac Soccer Ball, iMac Silver, iBook, Mac Mini, Macbook Air, MacBook Pro, iPod, iPhone, 3G, 3GS, 4, Nano, Shuffle, Touch, AppleTV, iPad (yes, Newton is missing – so sue me). I have never had a friend, business colleague or family member that I did not attempt to convert to the Apple world (and was successful in most cases – finally Dad!). The dirty little secret that I held in my judgement of people was that if you weren’t a Mac person, you weren’t getting it. Life, as defined by PC or Mac, was the neatest little compartment I could use, above all others: Democrat or Republican, Jew or Goy, Star Wars or Star Trek, Cagney or Lacey…When I met someone new, if I determined they used Macs, we were immediately simpatico.

The passing of Steve, in itself, isn’t terribly shocking. He’s been sick for years. We’ve had time to prepare. His resignation last month was a clear indication that he received the news: your time has come. He was smart enough to step down and take his final days to pass the torch, as best he could. We should have been more prepared. But yesterday hit me, and billions of others, like a ton of bricks. Why were we so affected? I think the world took a collective gasp, not for what we will miss about Steve Jobs as he lived, but more for what we will miss about Steve Jobs had he continued to live.

What saddens me most, and I think I can speak for the billions, is that the work of Mr. Jobs isn’t done (as the iPhone 4S clearly shows). The next äppärät that changes the world is now left in the hands of lesser beings. As much as I don’t want to succumb to such reverence, I look around at the other lifestyle brands in the world and I’m actually scared. Over the past 30 years, so few companies have been able to create anything close to a product with the same impact as this one company, headed by this one man…

But hope does exist. One of the greatest emotions I experienced yesterday was a surge of enthusiasm for what I could personally do to emulate the vision of Steve Jobs and change my own little slice of the world. With the passing of Steve, I was able to finally bottle my reverence for the man and determine to put it to use in whatever path I choose to travel (drinking the proverbial Kool-Aid). I shared this with my friend who is living in Bali, trying to make his own changes, and I realized that this could be viral. He too had the same thoughts and feelings. Apparently, people around the world are processing the death of their hero by capturing some of his essence and applying it to their lives. Go figure.

So as we move into a Post-Steve era, I will remain optimistic. Apple will continue with the minds that Steve approved. They probably have a life-cycle of at least 5 years of products that Steve green-lighted before he passed. There’s more to come. But moreover, perhaps there’s a spark, a light, some vision, that has passed on to the masses that will lead to the next era of innovation. Maybe Apple’s stranglehold of superiority in industrial design, human interface and problem-solving-through-technology will find its way into the soul of a generation of entrepreneurs, visionaries and super-industrialists? Maybe we can stand on our own two feet, learn from the master and change the world ourselves. Maybe Steve’s greatest legacy is actually…us? Genius.

Taste of Potrero

Posted on March 24, 2011 by ezealot

I’ve been a busy bee. Unfortunately I’ve neglected you. It’s not that I don’t love you. I do. Very much. It’s just that something suddenly came up (props for getting the Brady reference).

Well, lots of things came up. Divorce. Hanging with my son. Lots. And loving it. Single life. Working for the man after selling my business. Scheming and planning the next great business things (more to come on this soon, I promise). And…trying to flip the script on our neighborhood school as the PTA fundraising chairman.

That’s right, the Zealot has a warm fuzzy center and is a big community guy. I live in Potrero Hill (actually I am in the Dogpatch now, but we still own our house on the Hill). Back in the day when my little’man was a nubbin, we struggled to find a preschool. When all hope was lost and we nearly ended up in a corporate droid factory, we stumbled upon a group of parents who were saving an Elementary School slated for closure. They had a mission to create a Spanish Immersion program at Daniel Webster Elementary and open a bi-lingual preschool to act as a feeder. While we weren’t certain we wanted to be guinea pigs, the people associated with the project seemed to be determined and competent. With few options, we jumped in feet first.

The first year was rough. Teachers got sorted out. The partner organization proved to be incompetent and we decided to go independent. Our son was frustrated by having teachers come and go. But, at the same time, we were part of a community of people experiencing the same frustrations and working together, and hard, to change things. In fact, this group transformed from meetings, dropoffs and playdates to real friendships and a deep connected bond. We created a real neighborhood vibe, unlike anything I’ve seen in an urban setting. The school improved drastically in year-two and we got into a groove.

Then it was time to find a kindergarten. We were warned that getting into a San Francisco preschool was harder than getting into college. If that’s the case, then getting into a private K program is like getting into the Ivy League. Getting into your public K of choice is like…well, winning the lottery. Well hike my skirt and call me Shirley. The process just sucked. We went on interviews with all of the elite schools and made friends with the admission directors. We put on the best face possible and sought out any conditions that might help us get one of the coveted spots. But we weren’t gay, ethnic of any sort, newsworthy, notable or needy enough to pass muster. We got ‘waitlisted’. As for the publics, we were put in our neighborhood Starr King General Ed program. Ugh.

Then, in the second round of lottery in the public system we received the good news that we were accepted into Daniel Webster Elementary’s Spanish Immersion program, the very project that our preschool was built to feed. And so it was fed. Now, you might think we were ecstatic about this, but DW is no peach. Remember, the school was slated for closure and this dog has fleas. I’ve heard of schools turning around due to parental involvement, but DW was at the start of its turnaround. It looked like we were going to be guinea pigs again. But this time, I decided to step up and get involved. I volunteered to be the fundraising chair.

So, here were are, a year has nearly gone by. My son speaks Spanish, well. He’s getting awards at school and I’m the proudest dad alive. Our teacher is dedicated to her students and while there is chaos around them, the Kinders are in a warm nest of support, nurturing and learning (who knew that there was homework in K? lot’s of it. in Spanish). We’ve raised more money so far this year, than all of last year and our big event is yet to come. And so it comes…

TASTE OF POTRERO was the brainchild of a few of the parents in the school who wanted to up the ante of the bakesale fundraisers. We’re real people, with real jobs and real connections. Why can’t we have a real food event that would make the city stand up and notice. We’ve got event planners, winemakers, restauranteurs, admen and adwomen, pr types and on and on… So, on May 12th, we’re going for it. We’ve got the recently Beard nominated Flour + Water and Bar Agricole. We’ve got neighborhood gems Contigo, Piccino, Skool, Grand Pu Bah, Serpentine and Slow Club. And…we’ve got the exciting stylings of Kitchenette, Tacolicious and Hapa Ramen. Clearly not your average bakesale. Click the logo for the official website:

There will be a dozen wineries, including Spain’s best from Potrero’s own Vinos Unicos and wine with a cause Greater Purpose Wines. Batiste Rhum Agricole is going to be pouring hand-crafted cocktails.

Jane Wiedlin from the GoGos, who is always up to support a good cause is going to spin a DJ set. Some of the kids from Top Chef will be stopping by to shake hands and share some insights. There’s even an aerialist acrobat scheduled to perform.

Tickets are $50 for general admission from 7-10pm and $100 for VIP, which gets you extra tastes and exclusive access from 6-7pm. A silent auction will feature city-wide treasures so bring your credit card or check book. Buy your tickets here:

There are only 400 tickets and they’re selling quickly. Come join us for a night in support of better education. The San Francisco Unified School District projects massive deficits next year. That means already bare bones budgets will be even tighter; “non-essential”/ non-classroom teachers will be the first to go and students are the ones who will suffer most. Without outside funding from donors like you there will be:

No Art, No Music, No Dance, No Physical Education, No Computer Specialists, No Field Trips, No Literacy Specialists, No Nurses, No Librarians, No Learning Support Professionals.

We hope to see you there. And I promise I’m coming back strong, soon. You can’t keep a good zealot down.

The Social Media Narcissist

Posted on October 23, 2010 by ezealot

This may seem out of place on a food blog. You might also think that I have some sort of axe to grind. But honestly I wrote this blurb back in May and never found a forum to properly place the message. Last night I shared dinner with a fellow blogger who enjoyed this so much, I promised to share it with my audience (and hers, granting full permission to repurpose as she sees fit). I believe this is an outline of a treatise that deserves a lot more attention. Most importantly, it came in a lucid moment and succinctly summarizes my views on the current state of social media. Enjoy:

Blogs are interesting. I have no real pressure to publish regularly, other than satisfying my readers or my own urge to purge my food-obsessed mind. But if I stop for a while, or indefinitely, life goes on. I’m one of thousands who have an urge to publicly expose themselves in some narcissistic “look at me and what I know” blog mentality. In fact, perhaps I’m one of millions. But who really cares?

Social networking takes that narcissism to new heights. Facebook is the ultimate narcissist tool. At first it was neat to reconnect with people I’ve not seen, nor heard from in twenty or more years. There’s never been a tool in the history of mankind that allowed such connections to be reforged and maintained. My head would explode with excitement every time I made a new connection – there’s Bob Greenspun, look it’s Kelly Bryers, wow here’s Sarah Glaymon!

But after a while it became clear that having access to these people made no real impact in my life. Did I care that Janeen Muth’s son’s birthday was today? Was my life affected by Beth Segal’s night out? Do I really need to know that Milton Glenn was cooking Bourbon Shrimp? No disrespect people, but the answer is a resounding NO.

Moreover, did anyone really care about my opinions on atheism, politics or even food for that matter? Maybe. Certainly some people enjoy reading the blog and the associated posts on my Facebook page. But what’s more interesting is why I would choose to share such opinions. Why I am posturing my opinions in front of all of these people? Clearly I am putting a lot of thought into what I write (especially with status updates), with an ultimate goal of influencing the opinions people hold of me. We all are! We’re fucking narcissists.

What you say in your blog, facebook, twitter, etc. is intentionally geared at perpetuating the story you’ve created in your head about your life to the masses. I went to this concert and you know about it so you can see that I am cool (which is clearly up for subjective interpretation because one man’s cool is radically different from another’s – like Bruce Springsteen is to The Flaming Lips). Look carefully at your friend’s facebook updates, mine included, and you can piece together the puzzle of who they want you to think they are.

Moreover I believe that language, in general, is manipulative. Everything we say is designed to influence the people with whom we communicate. Listen to yourself objectively with this in mind and you will see that it is a rare word that leaves your mouth that isn’t furthering the perception we want to hold of ourselves and create for others. The beauty of social media is that we have finally found a forum to spread the images across wide geography, generations, cultural divides and even time, as we reconnect with our past that would have never connected otherwise.

Artisan & Audiophile

Posted on September 18, 2010 by ezealot

Una Pizza Napoletana is open. This is good news for San Francisco, bad news for New York City (you can have Nate Appleman, we’ll take Anthony). Yet, considering how many Neapolitan style places have popped up in the past few years you’d expect enthusiasm to be fairly low. We’ve got Flour + Water, Boot & Shoe, Zero Zero, Tony’s Pizza Neapolitana (please read my review) – not to mention the tried and true Pizette, Pizzaiolo, Delfina, Pico, Piccino, A16….Still, there was feverish anticipation of “the one” and I suspect there will continue to be a cult-like following for these pies.

Story goes… Anthony Mangieri had a coveted outpost in New York and decided to pull up the tent stakes and head west. He is lauded as a prodigy and obsesses over the details on a very simple line up of true Neapolitan pizza making (for details check out the wiki). His reputation is pretty pristine and I heard the term ‘artisan’ thrown around a few times last night.

Again, we hit wiki for clarification:

An artisan (from Italian: artigiano) is a skilled manual worker who makes items that may be functional or strictly decorative, including furniture, clothing, jewelry, household items, and tools. The term can also be used as an adjective to refer to the craft of hand making food products, such as bread, beverages and cheese.

That seems very appropriate for Anthony, as you will decipher from my experience.

Anthony Mangieri Una Pizza Napoletana

The corner of 11th and Howard has an appropriate amount of funk for a destination restaurant. People who eat here won’t live here. There is a line. It will create controversy, but who cares. Stand in the line and wait till a table opens. Talk to your date (but don’t read every yelp review of the place out loud to her like the phlegmy guy behind me). Yes, they should just have a list so you can go get a drink. I don’t think Anthony is stubborn enough to force this forever. There was an attractive hostess greeting people, chatting about the pizza, the history, the process. Unfortunately, she’s just helping out temporarily (and she’s taken, boys). I suspect they’ll figure this out over time and get someone to manage the flow.

The design is very clean, very simple. Soaring high ceilings with beams as the sole contrast. Nothing to distract. A small collection of tables and a lot of open space. My guess is that the layout reflects the speed at which an artisanal product can be produced properly. He could have more tables in here, but he probably couldn’t keep up (or would he want to).

Anthony hovers over a simple station with a few bowls of his ingredients and a stack of trays of his pillowy dough (Note that when the dough runs out so does your luck). It’s a clean station for a single-minded task. This guy makes pizzas. 4 kinds. All fairly similar. No meat – no veggies – no soup for you! I kept wanting to liken this guy to the Soup Nazi – but when you speak with Anthony he is so damn nice and smiley that the comparison ends at his work station and limited offerings.

Photo Courtesy of Grub Street

So for two people we ordered three pies, expecting to take home leftovers (we didn’t). We tried the Marinara, the Margherita and the Bianca. Now here’s where I go off a little… For the past 7 years I owned a high-end audio, video and home automation business. As a result, I often come in contact with types deemed as “audiophiles”. Truthfully, I hate the fucking term. It’s so elitist and pretentious and almost always self-prescribed and inaccurate. But what it boils down to is someone who has a sensitive enough ear to be able to hear the subtle differences between way-too expensive equipment, with the ultimate goal of perfecting sound reproduction. What always impresses me about true audiophiles is their ability to do this, free from a side-by-side comparison. It’s as if there is a reference standard imprinted on their brain, which they can recall at any time to compare.

As a food critic and chef, I would say I have a fairly refined palate, trained over many years of tasting the things I love over and over and over. There are a few items where I actually may approach the reference standard. Pizza is one of them. What I am getting at here is that like an audiophile, I can recall the landscape of pizza I’ve tasted throughout my life and generate an opinion of the requisite components (dough, sauce, cheese). I sat down this morning to do a side-by-side comparison in my head. And then I realized how pretentious and elitist it was (the phlegmy guy behind me was doing it out loud, in line). Sure I could compare this pizza to all the others but I’ve decided to give that up. Here’s my take on UPN on its own:

The dough is the star. Anthony uses a process of natural leavening (you can actually see a video of his entire process here) which produces the perfect balance of crisp on the outside, chewy in the middle. He’s also not afraid of salt. This is simply the way dough should be. Combine it with the smoke, ash, burns from his obsessively-maintained oven and you have something exceptional. The cheese and sauce are also very spot-on – not too sweet, just the right fat content.

All three pies were great, though I’d probably pass on the Marinara in favor of the Filetti. Generally I like a Marinara pizza on its own or along with a salad. But standing next to the other pizzas, it was a little lost. The cherry tomatoes on the Filettis we saw looked fantastic. The bianca started out as the surprise shining star. Fresh out of the oven there were hints of garlic, salt. The richness of the buffalo mozzarella popped in combination.

Una Pizza Napoletana Pizza Margherita

Moreover, I had an epiphany while eating the Margherita. It came after the pizza had a few minutes to settle. I often dive in while it is hot from the oven – cheese sliding around – roof of my mouth on fire. Yet, I confirmed last night that when a great pizza has time to settle a little (not too much for the cheese to harden and congeal), it actually gets better. The sauce intrudes slightly on the dough. The cheese distributes its fat and oils, the salt permeates everything. Try your pizza (just Margherita) after 8 minutes or so and you’ll see what I mean.

Una Pizza is a great place if you want to worship at the temple of pizza. Italians do this all of the time. Pizza is often consumed in the evening, by itself, over wine and conversation. The big meal is at lunch and takes hours with many courses. At UPN you get pizza, wine, beer – basta. And the pizza is near-perfect. I would wait in line any day to share with my good friends something that clearly contains so much artisanal skill, devotion to traditions, process and (yes the zealot is going to get cheesy) love.

The Dinner Party Guest

Posted on June 25, 2010 by ezealot

I don’t get invited to enough dinner parties. I backed myself into this corner. I believe it’s mostly because I am a food snob and a vocal one at that. I mean who would want to cook for someone that has such high expectations for every meal he eats AND might just write about it online? And frankly, my friends are justified for their sensitivity. I judge. I notice subtleties. I criticize, even if it is in my own head. Who would want that pressure?

Still, I have a dark, and very pedestrian, side to my culinary experience. I eat Spaghettios. I love Stouffer’s Creamed Chipped Beef. I have a soft spot for all things crap (in fact I have a post queued up called “Eat Shit”). So, while I wear my judges hat in many realms, I try to spare my friends the expectation of performing for a critic. If you’re reading this, I’ll be expecting an inbox filled with invites…

A few months ago I was invited to a dinner by a relatively new friend we shall now call from this point forward “the Contessa”. While technically not a Contessa by Italian aristocracy (I think), she has regal qualities, an impeccable social standing, refined tastes and a certain air of luxuriousness that follows her every move. She owns a Napa estate that makes Olive Oil for celebrity chefs. She pals around with the SF Opera elite. You wouldn’t necessarily put us together…until we start talking about food. The Contessa and I are soul mates in our zealotry for everything about food, and especially Italian. So, when the invitation came to join her at a home of some friends for dinner, I didn’t have to think twice.

Frankly, my life is so chaotic these days that I didn’t pay much attention to the specifics of the invite. I knew they were friends and somehow into food but I didn’t delve into the specifics. It was enough that the Contessa wanted me there. We’d play it by ear. My calendar invite read “Ciao Adam happy New Year!!! Tiziana wish to have confirmation you and me will go to her Piemontese dinner.”

When we arrived at the lovely loft in Mint Plaza we met our hosts Tiziana and John. It turns out that she is a photographer, who specializes in food. He is an importer of Italian culinary delights (Un Po Pazzo – click on this link to visit), particularly from the Piedmont region. Tiziana is from Piedmont and I immediately knew we were in for a treat. When an Italian is cooking with confidence I’m putty in their hands. The traditions run so deep and food is so engrained in their culture that I am almost embarrassed to claim that I cook Italian food. The mastery and skill of Italian regional chefs, including amateurs and home chefs, makes my dabbling seem Mickey Mouse.

I could see as I entered that Tiziana was organized and had put an effort into this meal, but I joked that it was probably effortless for her, even if it took her days. We started with a simple platter of the finest cheese known to man, in my opinion, Parmigiano-Reggiano. But this wasn’t just plain old Reggiano. No, it was Vacche Rosse, a special variety of the lauded formaggio made exclusively under a traditional process including prime red cows. The taste was subtly different than your average PR. It was a little more mellow, like a nice aged Cab, with a more crumbly texture (it was aged 4-years versus the 2-3 year we typically eat). I wolfed down a bunch along with some homemade foccacia that was lovely.

I watched Tiziana working her salad, which included seasonal greens topped with some poached shellfish, including squid and shrimp. She mixed in some of the fish liquid with the dressing which added a hint of seaspray to the dressing, marrying the fish and the salad. I never thought to do that, but loved the result. Otherwise, your salad would just have a topping of fish, without any real tie to the entirety of the dish. Brava!

Next came the Agnolotti del Plin. Interestingly enough, the first time I tried this dish was the night before at Flour + Water. When it rains it pours! This traditional Piemontese dish is a pasta (Agnolotti) that is pinched (del Plin) to seal it. In both cases it was stuffed with a veal, chard, pork filling and served in a light butter sauce. Flour + Water did a great job. It was light and lovely. Their pasta was incredibly delicate, which I love, but I never would have guessed it was a little too soft, by comparison. But Tiziana had the home field advantage here and brought out subtleties that you’d be hard-pressed to find in a restaurant. The sauce was simple and sparing, just enough to kiss the pasta but not overpower it. The filling bursted with flavor, surrounded by a silk blanket of pasta that retained a little bite of al dente. Brava again!

If that wasn’t enough, our next course was a brisket served with a deep, dark barolo sauce and a light vegetable melange. Her skill at cutting a brunoise was apparent and the lightly-herbed vegetables played a nice counter to the rich meat. As for the sauce, I can confidently say that I have never made such a lovely elixir myself. I find this type of sauce to be elusive for my culinary talents and I made a decision to try to add a few to my repertoire. It was rich and buttery and meaty and rich and barolo-y. I couldn’t get enough.

I must comment that John was no slouch with his additions to the meal. He paired wines impeccably, all from Piemonte. The cheese was from his import company (I’m planning to buy some hunks if anyone wants to split the wheel up). He shared some tomatoes that he claims are far superior to your average DOP San Marzanos I swear by. And his stories of his life’s careers and capers were incredibly interesting.

Dessert was another regional treat called Bonèt, a custard with ground almond cookies. Paired with a perfect dessert wine (which I will count on John posting in the comments) the night ended on a high note.

As we walked out into the crisp night air I thought about a few things. First, I was wowed by a great meal. How lucky to share such treats with the Contessa and her friends. I cannot wait until I have the chance to visit her Napa estate or, better yet, meet up in Italy for the real thing. And…I love going to dinner parties. It’s not just the food, but the company and the opportunity to talk in small groups. And for the rare opportunity I have to score an invite, I don’t have to do the cooking.

Best Dishes in San Francisco, Part Four

Posted on September 24, 2009 by ezealot

Funny how sometimes things that you haven’t thought about in a long time come back around and are ever present? Nopa is back on my radar this week and it reminds me that I didn’t include anything of theirs in my list. Last night I was eating there, sharing in the wonder of Nopa (I’ll write a post about it fully later because it is my opinion that Nopa epitomizes everything that dining in San Francisco should be) and realized that there is a clear entry for my list, in addition to today’s others. With that, I give you……

Nopa Pork Chop: How you been there? Have you done that? It’s obvious that Nopa has mastered this signature piece of swine from the confidence exuded by the waitstaff when you order. These people are foodies, exhibited by the way our server and I bored the hell of our my dinner companions last night talking about the innovation of Mission Burger, the reopening of Quince and how he must try Wexler’s soon. The pork itself is delicately fatty, so you are not gnawing but rather melting. The overall flavor reminds me of a heritage product, like something you might have eaten a 100 years ago. Very earthy, very brined, very tasty. There is a slight glaze and only a little puddle of jus. That’s all they need to make this chop tops.

Nopa Pork Chop

Grand Pu Bah Khao Soi: If you read my blog, you know that I love this [LINK]. I even hosted a special event for 50 of you to try it [LINK]. But don’t take my word. I am going to out my friend, David Steele, the owner of Flour + Water, who claims “this could be the best tasting thing I ever ate”. There are some detractors. One of my readers grabbed me at the event and said “this isn’t like Khao Soi in Thailand. It’s really good, but not authentic”. While I agree it isn’t an exact copy of the roadside fare in Thailand, I actually think it is better. The broth and braised meats are a pow pow punch. The pickled veggies, wet noodles, dry noodles and roasted chili paste give it a little boom boom. So take it away Black Eyed Peas……

Khao Soi

Pizzaiolo Pizza Margherita: It’s official. I’ve said it. I am declaring Pizzaiolo’s margherita the best pizza in the bay. The competition is so freaking close that it’s hard to do this, but I have to have a pizza on the list. You won’t be disappointed by Pizzeria Delfina, Tony’s, Ideale, A16, Bistro Aix, Pizza Nostra and Picco which are the other serious contenders, but Charlie gets the prize. First, it’s the wood. I like-a me some smokey flavor. The sauce and cheese are spot on and the rest of the menu is orgasmic. He also does his non-margherita pizzas as good (Delfina, Picco) or better (all the rest) than anybody. If I had to choose one place, my friends, this is it.

Pizzaiolo Margherita

Bakesale Betty’s Fried Chicken Sandwich: While we’re in the East Bay (on the same block, in fact) I’m throwing in a last minute nod to BB. There’s a reason the lines are so long every day for lunch. Part of it is the over-crammed assembly line folly that creates the energy of the spot. But most of it is because they are kicking out some tasty crispy-fried chicken breasts. Slapping them on an homemade roll, piling on a mass of awesome cole-slaw and doing it all messy. They’ll often throw you a treat while you are waiting and you just feel like you’re part of something good. Don’t miss the brisket sandwich either, that adds horseradish and potato chips to the pile.

Bakesale Batty Chicken Sandwich

French Laundry Mac and Cheese: One could easily find a dozen things to add to a best-of list from the FL. They are iconic. Every meal is an experience (though last time I went, it was a mixed one). But the thing that gets me each time, and has emerged as the signature dish, is chef Keller’s deconstruction of macaroni and cheese. The truth is that this deconstruction is actually butter-poached Maine lobster with a creamy lobster broth and mascarpone-enriched orzo pasta. I think we can all agree that pulling this off takes some serious chops. To me it is near perfection in flavor, texture and presentation.

Thomas Keller

737 Bridgeway Hamburgers: While we’re out of town, let’s jump over to Sausalito. I might be alone on an island with this one but my favorite hamburger in the Bay Area is at a little rotisserie grill in a narrow shack of a burger joint. 737 Bridgeway’s only sign says “Hamburger”. You can smell the cooking down the street and across the block. Tourists line up on their day trips from San Francisco. It seems they have heard about this place, but most of us haven’t. They used to have a sign that read: “How Not to Make a Hamburger” that would detail out the fast food process and then “How to Make a Hamburger” describing their process, which is ultra-fresh ground chuck, fresh sponge-bread roll, rotisserie fire grill, turning the meat once, salt and pepper seasoning on the outside, lappi cheese and the requisite toppings. They also serve crinkle-cut fries, which I think is a perfect foil to the meat. All I can say is that you should try it. Everyone has their own opinion about burgers and it’s likely only some of you will agree. But for me, this is the place.

737 Bridgeway Hamburgers Rotisserie Grill

Last one tomorrow…….

Eat Your Crusts

Posted on September 20, 2009 by ezealot

Overheard at the Exploratorium cafeteria with my son (sternly, from an incredibly obese woman to her slim daughter, eating pizza): “Eat your crusts”.

It’s difficult to escape my obsession with food when I have none. I’m keenly aware of every person shoving heaps of pabulum into their gullets. It’s sublime. It’s also incredibly telling. We simply eat too much. This woman may be a victim of an awful set of genes or an unfortunate thyroid problem. But, more likely, she probably eats her crusts. I mean, what’s the point? In 99% of the pizza in this country (current Neapolitan craze excluded) the sauce and the cheese are where the action is. The crust is just dry bread with no real value, other than making us fat, right? Of course Pizza Hut will stuff your crusts with cheese if you’re so inclined.

Our portions are obscene. I remember coming back from a long trip in Asia with my wife years ago – stomach shrunk to a manageable size. We went to Park Chow and I ordered the cobb salad. There were two sizes and I chose the smaller one. I ate about half and was totally full. Nice meal. I said to myself, and Julie: “I feel great and I plan to reduce my consumption so that this is always just enough”. Yeah, nice try. I was back on the supersize mentality in a matter of days.

I dreamt a restaurant concept last night that involved only small portions. What a boon that would be! But wait, we have them, don’t we? In fact there was a “small plates” craze a few years ago (which quickly was gobbled up by the comfort food craze – now it’s street food). The problem was that we never ordered small plates to eat individually. They were just so you could try a little of everything. The waiters always would say “I recommend ordering 2-3 small plates per person”. Eat your crusts. (by the way, why is there no proper Pintxos – Basque Tapas – bars in San Francisco? I could easily copy any one of a hundred from San Sebastian and it would be a massive success!)

Another side effect of the cleanse is that I am the uncomfortable dinner-party guest. At least ten times last night I subjected my poor friends with my philosophies on the master cleanse. I’m a one-trick pony and these patient folks must have been ready to smack me in the face with their delicious gouda sausages. I come off as self-righteous, enlightened and holier-than-thou when I am cleansing, because there isn’t much else for me to talk about since my head is swimming with the thoughts of food. Note to self: don’t ruin other’s good times when cleansing. Stay home.

Which leads me to an update on things and some holier-than-thou speak: I am not hungry at all. I had a few pangs this morning that quickly dissipated. My allergies have been acting up and I had something in my eye last night. But those things aside, I feel great. Of course I cannot stop thinking about food, but this is a symptom of the conditioning we have (especially at meal time) and represent “cravings” and not real hunger.

When you embrace the cleanse, you quickly realize the vast difference between real hunger and craving. We are not hungry people. If you can afford to have a computer and run in the circles where you have discovered my blog, you are not hungry. We have cheap calories around us at all times. We are conditioned to feel the need to eat at specific times of the day but it has nothing to do with food-as-survival.

If I can impart any wisdom gained from this controlled starvation it is that it doesn’t take long to get in touch with this concept and it can be revelatory. I don’t think thinking about it is good enough. You have to stop eating for days to realize the true nature of hunger. It’s tangible and empirical. And if you do it, you may just decide not to eat your crusts.

Cleansing and Zealotry

Posted on September 18, 2009 by ezealot

I woke up in a bit of a panic. The last time I cleansed was quite successful and really enjoyed the process of discovering the truth behind my relationship with food. I feared that this time it might be more of a chore. Will I miss food more? Since I’ve already had my realizations, will the novelty be supplanted by desperate pangs of hunger? If this going to be more difficult?

Also, I questioned my motivation. Truth be told, if I were stronger I could simply strike the balance and have more control with food. I mean, I’m not THAT bad. I’m only about 10-15lbs overweight (mostly in my gut and neck) but I still look damn good (thanks Mom and Dad for the genes). But this isn’t about the weight itself, it’s the psychology of this relationship. And I need a kick in the ass. Plus, what a better time to start? The last day of my cleanse I will be joined by millions of Jews fasting for atonement.

As a secular Jew (it’s a story for another post that I’ll happily explain) I am always looking for alternative ways to interpret and celebrate during our holidays (the humanist haggadah at passover for example). The high holidays always throw me for a loop, because they are heavy with the god stuff. But you’ve got to hand it to my people. Fasting to atone for your misgivings, which is followed by a celebratory feast isn’t so bad. It was designed to help us reconnect with our pure spirituality = clarity of mind without distractions. That seems to fit well into my discoveries with fasting.

If you know the story of the Zealots, the original ones, you’d know the extent to which they would go for their cause. Here’s the wiki on Masada:

After the destruction of Jerusalem and the Second Temple in AD 70, 960 Zealots took refuge by capturing the Roman fortress of Masada and taking no prisoners. Rome sent the TenthLegion to retake the stronghold, but it failed for three years. It is estimated that they took over 1,000 casualties in the process. The Zealots held the fortress even after the Romans invented new types of siege engines. Finally, in the third year of the siege, Rome, gave up on taking the fortress intact and burned down the walls. When the Romans stormed in to capture the Zealots, they found that the fighters and their families had nearly all committed suicide.

So, as the Epicurean Zealot, it would only make sense that my fast were a bit more extreme. If I hope to find true meaning, I will go deeper and finish on the same day as the others (maybe if they did 10 days they’d work-out this god nonsense?!). And that’s some heavy purpose to guide me.

For those following along, I am eating normally today and will take a senna tea before bed tonight. That will mean a significant evacuation tomorrow, particularly after the the first SWF. Also note that there is no book necessary to do this. I love this website [LINK] for all of the details of the cleanse. And you are welcome to ask me. I will continue to post the specifics of my process as the days go by.

Hi, My Name is Adam and I’m a Food Addict

Posted on September 17, 2009 by ezealot

It’s been silent around here lately, eh? Quiet from the Zealot actually means that the wheels are turning even harder. I’ve been a busy boy. First, I was out of town for the annual trade show for my industry. I do home theater crap. It’s a big convention. I’m involved with the organization. I spoke to a banquet of 600 people, overcoming a lifelong fear of mine. It felt good. I’m pumped.

Julie took a job. It’s kinda of a grind. New technology stuff. Kicking her ass. Long commute. That means that I’m Mr. Mom these days. Drop the booger off at school, play dates in the afternoon. I actually love it. This kind of time with my little man is invaluable. We’re getting on the same page.

The economy finally caught up with me and lit a huge fire under my ass with my business. Quite frankly, as an entrepreneur for the past 15 years, I realized that the energy is constantly ebbing and flowing. The past year has been a real ebb for me. How can I get excited about selling stuff that people are struggling to justify. I’m not selling cancer cures – it’s just a freaking TVs. But I always come around to the fact that being an entrepreneur is not about the thing you do, it’s about the doing. Being successful at anything is more about how you go about what you do, rather than the thing itself. And I like that. So, I rededicated myself to playing the game and figuring out ways to do it better. I’ve been telling my friends for a long time, it’s not about working hard, it’s about working smarter.

So, with the food blog. I am not going away. I have way too much to say and from my stats, it looks like people enjoy reading it. But I’ve fallen in to a familiar rut. You see, I am a food addict. Many of us are and probably won’t admit it. It’s not that I am obsessed with food, it’s quality and all of the foodie nuances that I post about. That shit is fine. It’s the food for nurturing shit that is the problem. You can read my post [LINK] about the last time I did a food cleanse to really understand what this means to me. In fact, read it now before moving on. It’s important to understand what comes next.

So, I’m doing another master cleanse to kick start the next era in my relationship with food. I just had a conversation with my buddy who has half-heartedly done cleanses for a long time. While he agrees with me that it isn’t about the “cleansing characteristics” (because science is conflicted) or about “dieting” (because you WILL go back to the old habits) but it is about the psychological battle. As you read in that post, I believe that mankind is meant to be closer to starvation. My buddy suggested that the physical extremity of the master cleanse could be damaging to the body. I would argue that the physical extremity of the opposite is true. To my sensibilities, gluttony is probably worse for the body than controlled starvation, in the long run. Heart disease, diabetes, obesity – these are the real problems of our time.

The issue remains that once I finish the cleanse I will likely return to my old habits no long after. While I strongly believe this to be true, I also think that something significant changed in me the last time. I can only hope that each time I do it, I get a little closer to a balanced life, rather than constantly living in the extremes. The wake up call has the power to temper the status quo until there is some happy medium. Or not.

So, a lot of you have expressed interest in the master cleanse and some of you might want to join me in solidarity and share experiences. My last full meal will be on Friday evening and I will be drinking the senna tea that night, fully prepared for a salt-water-flush (herein SWF) on Saturday morning. I am going to do it for 10 full days, the last of which will be Monday the 28th. I will return to food, via broth on Tuesday and probably start solids again on Wednesday.

Of course I will be documenting my experiences, since I wasn’t writing the blog the last time and there were a lot of profound thoughts to be shared. I know this is controversial to many and I understand most of the arguments made against the cleanse. Let me restate: I don’t recognize the “cleansing” elements completely. I know the SWF is controversial and damn tough to stomach. I know that as a diet, this is not the best way to lose weight. If anyone is looking for anything other than a psychological way to perceive their relationship with food, I don’t recommend this. But, if you’re down with the experience, post in the comments and we’ll support each other though it.

The Epicurean Zealot

An opinion-laden guide to San Francisco's culinary culture.

Category Archives: Commentary