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.

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.

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.

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.

Captain America Birthday Boy

The first year we had a May-day celebration with pizza-on-the-grill. Everyone got to make their own with crazy toppings. The hot fire on the weber was perfect for smokey crisp crusts.

Pizza on the Grill Toppings

Years two and three we embraced cinco de mayo, one year with cochinita pibil – a yucutan pit-pork concoction that can knock socks. The other year we did carne asada, flank style.

Little Man and His Pinata

Last year I grilled some Fatted Calf sausages for a Pirate party in Ft. Mason, complete with a cannon and real live pirate actor guy.

Real Live Pirate Actor Guy

This year it was superheroes. Lots and lots of superheroes. Thirty of em. Plus their parents. The food was a challenge because we were at Potrero Del Sol Park with no grilling and blazing sun. So, for the kids we decided on simple sandwiches. But since my son was going to be Captain America, I decided to use his shield for inspiration and viola, a fucking Martha Stewart moment:

Captain America Sandwiches

For the adults, I threw together a faro, pasta, cherry tomato, ricotta salata and baby arugula salad. It was quick, simple and tasty. It also held up surprisingly well to the heat:

Salad with Faro, Pasta, Arugula and Ricotta Salata

But the real winner, at least in my opinion was a Torta I made on a whim hoping to find something that would work well at room temperature or sweatier. Since I had never made one, I was concerned. While it didn’t rock my world, it was really quite good and I now have a better understanding of the form, to improve in subsequent tries. I’ll share with you my experience  and a recipe below.

Torta with Bellweather Farms Ricotta and Boccolone Meats

So a torta is typically an Easter dish, that can include any combination of stuffings, like artichokes, cured meats, spinach, cheeses, etc. It’s baked in a double pie crust and served room temperature or cold. It sort of resembles a quiche, except that the center is denser than a custard, especially when cold.

For mine, I scoured a number of recipes and determined to go at it freestyle. For the crust, I used Food & Wine’s Flakey Double-Crust Pastry Recipe [click for link] but substituted the shortening with Boccalone Lard. I’ve been told that lard is actually better for you than the hydrogenated shortening and gives you better texture and flavor. I’ll have to try both to give my opinion, but I liked the crust with the lard and it was definitely a conversation piece.

For the fillings I took Boccalone mortadella, prosciutto cotto (cooked ham) and capicola and pulsed them a few times in the food processor. This gave a nice ham salad sort of texture. I mixed it all with an egg to bind. Next I grabbed some stellar Bellweather Farm’s Jersey basket ricotta. It has low moisture so it won’t ruin the crust. I mixed it with some aged provolone and pecorino fresco. Lastly I sauteed some baby spinach, drained and dried it and tossed it with some reggiano and a couple of eggs to bind.

The assembly was simple. After laying in the pie crust I alternated meat, cheese, spinach then cheese, meat crust. Base it in a 375 oven for an hour or so, until the crust is golden then refrigerate over night.

I think the whole thing could have used more salt. But the earthiness of the lardo crust played really well with the meats and the cheeses added some sweetness with a little sharp kick from the provolone. The spinach was sort of prosaic and I’d love to give artichokes, chard or broccoli rabe a try. But most importantly it help up amazingly well in direct sun for a couple of hours. It didn’t sweat or break down in the least.

Photo by Greg Vargas

Check out my post about how to make meatballs for the guidelines. This version was beef, pork, veal (equal portions) with porcini mushrooms, Vidalia onions & ricotta. They are served over some lovely baby arugula, tossed in olive oil, sea salt and pepper – an warm Acme ciabatta and a mound of ricotta drizzled with more olive oil.

Photo by Greg Vargas

Photo by Greg Vargas

I think the best place to start, and the biggest disservice I did to you, was to leave you high and dry at Thanksgiving. I’ll make up for it. I’ve got some doozies. Thanksgiving is my holiday, bitches. That’s right, I said it. I own it. I consider it a personal challenge to remain inventive in the face of honoring traditions and meeting (or exceeding) expectations from TDays past. Plus, I am working to let go of my obsessive control and include others in the process. Add all of this up and the fact that I am often drunk (see below) mid-way through the evening and it is a herculean effort to rock TDay.

Dungeness Crabs Steaming in the Pot

This year I’ve got two standout dishes that I’ll share. Today it’s my crab cakes. Later on I’ll share the sweet potato gnocchi dish I unveiled this year. Let me start by explaining my two most important TDay traditions. First, the middle of November is the start of dungeness crab season in Northern California. Some years the first crab I taste is on Thanksgiving. This year I had a week or so to revisit my sweet meat before popping out some cakes for the holiday.

My other tradition is tequila. It’s a convoluted path to tequila but ultimately I owe Uncle Lou thanks. You see, when I lived in Colorado my Aunt and Uncle (Lou’s brother-in-law) had recently moved from the east coast to Colorado springs so they could opt out of the rat race and smoke a lot of dope. Lou was a tour guide of sorts to the laid-back Colorado mountain life. He was an animated character and over-the-top personality that ultimately turned out to be scumbag. But Lou gave us tequila at Thanksgiving. Nobody was spared a shot and it really amped up the festivities.

Traditional Thanksgiving Tequila

Back to the crab. Those unfamiliar with dungeness might not appreciate the stringy texture (compared to your average lump meat or Maryland claws). It is incredibly laborious pickings, but the effort rewards you with sweetness and a fresh sea flavor that I love. My journey starts with a call to the docks – Larry of the “Genesis” and Crabs Ahoy (408) 489-4808 or Bill of “Cricket” (925) 757-8615. The past few years have been slow for the crab fishermen so it’s best to call down to one or more of the boatmen to see if they have some catch. Then we hop in the car and drive 30 minutes to Pillar Point Harbor, outside of Half Moon Bay to buy some buggers fresh off the boat.

Back at the homestead we boil a monster pot of water with bay leaf and peppercorns and drop our friends in for 12-14 minutes. I leave them in a sink to cool down before the long task of cleaning and cracking and picking. There is an art to this and if you’re a newbie, you’ll want to google some instructions. At the end you’ll have a big pile of crab meat. I got about 30 crab balls out of six crabs. You do the math.

Epicurean Zealot Crab Cakes

At last we make the cakes. But I said balls. What gives? I’ve discovered this year that I think I prefer a round crab cake in a ball over the traditional form. It looks better and the pent up steam inside billows as you cut into them. Moreover, the crust to crab ratio seems ideal. Here’s the drill:

In a large bowl toss your crabmeat gently (you don’t want to break it up too much so you get big hunks of claw meat in every bite) with enough good mayo and a little sour cream (this year I tried Greek Yogurt instead and it was AMAZING) to wet the crab but not drown it. Add a few dashes of worchestershire and tabasco (enough to taste but not overpower). Then some dijon mustard (a spoonful or more, depending on your preference, but again don’t overpower). Next throw in some chopped green onions, a lot of them – don’t be shy here. This is the best contrast flavor to the crab. If you are making more than a crab’s worth, I would add about an egg for every two crabs. The binding becomes necessary when cooking in quantity. Then, add some panko breadcrumbs, enough to give the batter some stick to it. It should hold it’s shape for frying. Salt and pepper to taste.

I like to use a butter and oil blend. Olive oil alone would be fine. Form the cakes into golf balls. Then roll them in panko to create a crust. Cook them over medium high flame until the brown and rotate them multiple times to get all sides brown. Handle them carefully as they will fall apart without much effort. Because you are cooking on multiple sides, as opposed to two with a traditional cake, I feel the insides cook better and have a steamy quality.

"The Best Crab Cakes We Ever Ate!"

I served this year’s cakes on a strip of pureed red pepper and horseradish sauce. You can do whatever suits you. Make sure to have a citrus (lemon or lime) wedge. Serve em hot. At least a half dozen of our guests this year said these were the best crab cakes they ever ate. It might have been the freshness. Perhaps the recipe is that good. Maybe they were just too damn drunk to know. So, the moral of the story is to serve tequila with your crab and you too might be the star of the night!

Photo Courtesy of David Hagerman at Easting Asia (LINK)

It’s time again for that special soup that I wrote about [link] to make an appearance. Wednesday night from 5-8pm Grand Pu Bah will be dishing out the steamy elixir known as Khao Soi. I strongly suggest you call for a reservation (415.255.8188) and while you’re at it, sign up for a Thai Massage before or after your dinner. They are offering a special $1 per minute in conjunction with the soup thing. Get 2 hours. Trust me.

As with many of my epiphanies in life, this one started when I was living in Italy.  We used to frequent the famed Giolitti, located around the corner from the Pantheon. With my fresh-off-the-boat eyes, the realm of the exotic was off the charts at this place. As you made your way through the throngs of well-dressed onlookers, the freezer cases appeared as works of abstract art. Mounds of colors and textures were piled impossibly high as busy uniformed workers drew slabs of the gelato (not scoops), mixing and matching flavor combinations. Then they would slap a dollop of whipped cream (panna) on top for good measure.

Adding to the exotic was the ordering procedure. I learned on my first visit that you paid at the cash counter before approaching the goods. Your receipt was the ticket to paradise and the impatient staff added a ‘soup-nazi’ vibe to the experience while you decided. It took many visits to master the flavor translations. When my cono gelato (con panna of course) was handed to me I was transported back to my childhood where I used to dwell over a tower of banana split on hot summer nights at Two Cents Plain on Ventnor Avenue in Margate, NJ. Now, I was similarly lost in the indulgence of Straciatella, Nocciola, Baccio and Pistacchio.

The first thing you notice about proper gelato is the temperature. The consistency is never too hard and never too soft. It seems to hold its form at the perfect temperature for the duration of its consumption. The panna is rich and sweet, but not too sweet and provides a lovely contrast to the frozen. It’s important like icing on a cupcake but never outshines the main event. The fat content is gelato is actually lower than ice cream, which is surprising, because to me it tastes significantly richer than most watery varieties I’ve tried elsewhere (latin countries really seem to blow it).

Then there is the flavor. Last year in Greece I demonstrated to Julie the difference between a Greek-run Gelateria and a true Italian artisanal product. Our son was clamoring for ice cream so we relented at the nearest place we could find. I was holding out for the real Italian place on the other side of town. The difference between his bright green pistacchio and my pale variety were night and day. His tasted like extract, bright and sugary – way too much of a bad thing. Mine was subtle, yet dense with real pistachio flavor and the cream flavor always played along with the nuts (I told you I was gelato fan). No contest.

Pregnant Julie Keeps Up with my Gelato Fever

A great way to introduce yourself to gelato is with Straciatella (vanilla with chocolate flakes) and Baccio (chocolate and hazelnut combined). You really cannot go wrong. If the place offers panna (here in the states that’s a rarity), you know you’re doing ok. Also, gelato is best consumed in a gelateria.

Except…..back to Whole Foods, frozen case, cool container. I stumbled upon Talenti because I loved their clear plastic containers (don’t put them in the dishwasher – I learned the hard way). I gave it a try. First vanilla. Then pistachio. Both were really good. Probably the best I’ve had outside of a gelateria. But then I tried the Double Dark Chocolate. For fuck’s sake! Little tiny nibs of spectacular chocolate float in a perfect chocolate gelato. Leave it to sit for 10-15 minutes and you’ll hit the desired temperature. The sides should be soft yet still stick to your spoon. While the flavors aren’t traditional, I still dare you to eat only one or two bites.

I stopped going to Giolitti when I discovered smaller, less touristy places. But I won’t discourage you from the experience. For that alone, it is one of a kind. But, if you can’t make the trip across the pond, and you haven’t found the perfect gelateria in your town (I’m still looking), give Talenti a shot.

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…….

Today, it’s a hodge podge. I’ve got a bunch of favorites that don’t fit a category. So, let’s just let em all hang out.

Yank Sing House Special Soup Dumplings: Say what you will about Dim Sum in San Francisco and the battle between Yank Sing and Ton Kiang, the soup dumpling at the former is one of the best dishes in our fair city. What a surprise to find a glorious, savory broth magically swishing about inside a tender dumpling, floating in a bath of a sweet sauce and sliced ginger. It is so well crafted that I laughed smugly at Heaven’s Dog far inferior interpretation. You don’t mess with the Zohan.

Yank Sing Soup Dumplings

Hayes Street Grill Crab Cake Sandwich: I cannot speak to the quality of this restaurant because I haven’t been there in nearly 15 years. It’s just not on the radar of your average SF foodie. But they do something at the Ferry Building Farmer’s Market on Saturday mornings that keeps me coming back again and again. The construct of the sandwich is perfect in many ways to my sensibilities. Let me deconstruct….. the bread is simple, white toasted on a fire to gain a lot of smokey flavor. This is critical. The crab cake is solid. Not the best crab cake I’ve ever had, but it’s a fine crab cake at that. It doesn’t need to be the best. Add to that a juicy, large slice of tomato. Sweet and cool meets crispy and savory. A little greens and tartar sauce round out the whole deal and man it just works. I get mine with a side of crispy bacon and it fuels me up for a market day.

Hayes Street Grill Crab Cake Sandwich

Quince Ravioli: I’m not of the ilk that can afford to dine at Quince weekly. It’s a special occasion place. And it’s always special. I can confidently say that there is no pasta in our fair city that elevates the form like Quince (though Flour and Water is as close as close can get). Any pasta you eat at Quince could live on this list. There is simply too much care put into conceptualizing the preparations to not receive my praise. As I’ve said before, truly great pasta is about subtleties in textures and flavors that transcend the predispositions we hold. Ravioli is the purest example of how Quince can exceed any expectation. You’ll know it when you see it.

Quince

Nihon Tuna Carpaccio: Sushi is tough. Everyone has an opinion. The current darling, Sebo has everyone buzzing and I agree that they are pretty amazing. But I don’t want to get bogged down with identifying particular dishes in sushi joints. These seas are far too rough to navigate. Let’s leave them for my list of best restaurants. But……there is one dish that sticks in my mind as exemplary and worthy of joining this list. Nihon’s Tuna Carpaccio with white truffle oil, ponzu sauce & hawaiian sea salt is a crazy perfect blend of this and thats, these and those.

Gaspare’s Veal Milanese: This one is so out of place on any list, but what can I say – I love Gaspare’s. Everything is good and reminds me of my early years in New Jersey, eating late nights at Tony’s Baltimore Grill. The food is decidedly old-school AmerItalian. The lasagna is stunning. The pizza is greasy and flavorful. The chicken parmigiano is absolutely the real deal. But the dish that keeps calling me these days is the Veal Milanese. There is nothing particularly impressive about this except that it is exactly what it should be. A tender cutlet of veal, pounded thin and breaded (the breading is important and they get it right), fried and served with a little butter and lemon juice on top. I get it with a side of their spaghetti and meat sauce, which has a sweet, thick pile of sauce for sopping with bread when you’re done. Mamma mia.

I think I’ve got two or three more days in me of this. Frankly, it’s a hard exercise because I can barely narrow down the choices on some menus, let alone picking from the lineup of talent we have across the city.

Salt House Poutine: If you read my post on this dish [LINK] you’ll know that this is WAY up on my list. In fact, if you don’t like it – I don’t like you. Because this has all the elements that a truly good person would like. Crispy, double-fried-fries – check. Artisan cheddar – check. Braised short ribs gravy – uh yeah. Can I has Poutine?

Salt House Poutine

Meeting House Biscuits: Dropping old school on you. Apparently there used to be a Meetinghouse Restaurant of some sort. I don’t recall how I discovered them but it was an online thing and you can still order Joann’s un-fucking-believable flakey, buttery, crispy-yet-moist, airy biscuits here [LINK]. If you live in the city, I kid you not, Joann will hand deliver them to you. Elsewhere they are mailed. If you’re lazy, you can get them at the Elite Cafe on Fillmore. There is supposed to be a revival of the Meetinghouse in some food-court concept at the JCC, but I haven’t been. Needless, many a biscuits and gravy I’ve made with these lovely nuggets beneath.

Meetinghouse Biscuits

Universal Cafe Chicken Under a Brick: What sucks about this town is that Universal Cafe doesn’t get it’s props. I’ll often mention it as one of my favorite restaurants and people will say “yeah, I love their brunch”. Yes, their brunch is probably the BEST in the city. There I said it. It rules. But, they also do one of the best lunch and DINNER services in the city. I’d put the place in my top 10 for all three. And the dish that gets me…. Chicken under a brick. Lot’s of restaurants try. Nobody else comes close (sorry Flour and Water and Pizzaiolo). Leslie Carr Avalos is genius in many ways, especially in her ability to brine a bird, crisp its skin and serve it with sauces and sides that bring out everything that is good.

Universal Cafe

B44 Paella: This one is about the entirety of the experience. The dish itself is, in my opinion, the best Paella in the city, when done properly (it can be very inconsistent). The flavor pops and the ingredients are spot on for most varieties. Where they often shine [and fail] is in creating the kick-ass crust that adds some smoke and sweet and takes it to another level. Ask them to make sure the Paella is well-done. But moreover, make the experience by eating a bunch of funky seafood starters and downing two bottles of Rosé (sparkling works great) on a sunny afternoon (a little late so the crowd dissipates) in the outdoor seats on Belden. Tony, are we ready for another??

B44 Paella

Wexler’s 4505 Meats Mission Dog: Only on the lunch menu. I wrote a post about the entire meal [LINK], but this was the standout dish. How much can I say about a friggin hot dog? Well, I really like that this is treated with care and not a throwaway. 4505 has put a lot of though into creating a unique dog and this was the first (well, second, Pal’s Takeaway did a damn good job too) time it was treated with appropriate reverence. Get some.

4505 Meats Hot Dogs!

More tomorrow……