Category Archives: Meals & Reviews

Meals & Reviews

It’s Tricky

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I’ve decided to like hipsters. It’s not because I particularly have much in common with hipsters. I don’t possess industrial-ultra-slim clothing, ironic facial hair, youth, tattoos. I don’t live in the Mission, slackline or hula hoop in Dolores Park, drink trendy coffee or date girls with thick-framed eyewear and colorful tights.

Photo Courtesy of FogandFoundry.com

Photo Courtesy of FogandFoundry.com

In fact, for the past couple of years I’ve been known to ridicule hipsters. Not necessarily because I had anything against them, but more so that I bought into a covert trend unto itself. The anti-hipster club (kinda like the he-man woman hater’s club of Lil’ Rascals) is a prodigious movement that can be traced to it’s origins in the darkest corners of places like 25 Lusk, RN74 and Delarosa. I often think that nobody actually believes themselves to be a hipster. I’ve never met a person that has self-identified in this way.

Yet, there is no doubt that there is a citywide class war being waged between Mission hipsters and Marina types. Cute and fuzzy bunnies (points for the knowing the reference) and professionals of the North gaze somewhat scornfully at hipsters.  I secretly think they desire or envy the hipster indifference, while at the same time loathing their fashion sense. Whereas the hipster looks towards those from the Marina with decided scorn.  I don’t believe there’s anything about the Northern life that appeals much to the hipster, except maybe said cute and fuzzy bunnies.

Photo Courtest of Sf.FunCheap.com

Photo Courtest of Sf.FunCheap.com

I’m between worlds. I run with all crowds. I can hang with the cutest and fuzziest of them, doing my Mayurasanas, Adho Mukha Vrksasana and Koundinyasana B (don’t press me on hip-openers tho). But also spend most of my time Southside, with the exception of the essential Nopa late-nights (neutral territory), and SPQR, who equals my beloved F+W for pasta supremacy. Plus, I live in the Dogpatch where I prefer the sunshine and the shipyard views – and is also the neighborhood where aged hipsters go to nest.

To the point: One thing the hipsters and I do share is Trick Dog. The brainchild of the Bon Vivants (and decidedly hip) Scott Baird and Josh Harris, Trick Dog is a Gastropub that appeals to my sensibilities for Gastro-ing and Pub-ing (really, you went there?). And apparently it also appeals to those of the Mission-hipster species, because it’s teeming with them.

Photo Courtesy of SFGate

Photo Courtesy of SFGate

The aesthetics of Trick Dog are lean and modern with elements of Prohibition-era charm, mixed with some steam-punk accents. It feels very hip without being ironic or cliché. Scott and Josh themselves have formed a design business based upon the work they’ve done at the bar. There’s a cutting edge European sensibility to the layout, that reminds me of some of my favorite places in Madrid, Barcelona, Rome and Paris. You could easily find this bar tucked away in the Marais, The Born or the Chueca (yes they are all the gay neighborhoods – problem?).

But moreover, it’s about the food, the drinks and the intangible in the atmosphere that keep me coming. The crowd never gets too dense, and always feels upbeat with lots of engaged groups split between the upstairs in the downstairs. The upstairs being a compact sit-down dining space – the downstairs bar stacked a few deep with some open floor area to stand around. Flow is well considered. Noise is manageable.

Photo Courtesy of SFChonicle

Photo Courtesy of SFChonicle

The cocktails are exactly what you would expect from the Bon Vivants. Everything has been very, very well-considered. The drinks are incredibly balanced, often surprising in their subtleties: never sweet, never heavy. They go down easily, too easily. I love me some Baby Turtle, a concoction with Ocho tequila, campari, grapefruit, cinnamon, lime, egg white. And the bartenders themselves could be the most affable lot I’ve encountered in any trendy establishment in town. Just plain good-folk.

But it’s the food that really stands out to me. Not what you’d expect from a bar’s bar. The menu is not extensive – it’s very accessible. Yet, there are enough options, and it changes regularly, so that you could go a few times and still find surprises. Most things are functional for sharing – and share we do.

Some of the standouts are the Salt Cod Scotch Egg, which has a gooey yolk to balance the fishy crust and a lovely shredded beet salad underneath. The Fried Green Tomatoes they’re serving right now are outstanding – crispy, yet light with an al dente tomato center. The Radishes with Campari Butter and Smoke Se Salt are incredibly surprising in their simplicity, yet thrilling in their complexity.

Almost everything is good here but the real standout to me are the French Fries. They have an option of Manimal Style which emulates In-N-Out Burger with a tangy sauce and fried onions. And these could be the best french fries I’ve had in San Francisco and beyond. In fact, I was recently in Belgium and I’d put them up against the best I had there. They’re listed as thrice-cooked, which I assume means they’ve been boiled and then fried a couple of times. No matter, they got it right and they’re the most crispy delicious flavorful little piles of spuds you’ll find anywhere.

It took a few visits to slide into the vibe at Trick Dog and frankly, in the early weeks they were still cutting their teeth. After The Bauer gave them three-stars for food, the crowd settled in and the bar hit its stride. It’s too easy to pop in on a weeknight after some Tittibhasanas and Tolasana through to Vinyasa. I’m even thinking about getting a few tattoos and maybe reconsider my stance on dates with thick-framed eyewear – so that I can move freely amongst the hipsters as a regular.

Get Wise, Son.

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There are a number of foods I claim to know a lot about. I can talk pizza with the best of them. Ask me about a good burger, I gotch-ya-back. Pretty much covered with most Italian, Thai and an assortment of other passion centers.

But the one cuisine of which I’ve made a practice…the one that I can profess superior understanding…the food that is programmed on my DNA… is deli. That’s right, Jew food. Old-school, East-Coast, Matzoh Ball soup, pastrami, latkes – deli.

It starts, as many of my stories start, on the milk crates in my mom’s restaurants. Where I used to sit in her kitchen, as a young boy, during summers, sick days and other days off. She had what we called a ‘coffee shop’ that I’ve explained is most like a diner, but has a lot of overlap with the world of deli. She house-made her corned beef, she had a mean matzoh ball soup on occasion, she fried up the matzoh brie and the blintzes. It wasn’t true deli, but it hinted.

Moreover, we were east coast Jews, so we ate lots and lots of latkes (and other such curios). I had a lot of family: grandparents, great aunts & uncles, cousins – old people. And old people love deli. So, anytime we gathered, we ate bagels, lox, lox-eggs-onions, smoked fish of all varieties, kasha varnishkes, pastrami, brisket, stuffed cabbage, gribenes, kishke, kreplach, kneidlach…

My closest friends and family don’t quite know the extent of my passion. I make matzoh brie weekly, I do matzoh ball soup monthly, kasha varnishkes on occasion. My interest is tolerated and not often shared by those that know me best (matzoh brie is an acquired taste). But the obsession goes deeper for me as I frequent the delis that dot the bay area and make pilgrimages to delis when I travel. I’ve conducted extensive tours of the major cities, often comparing my favorite dishes from multiple establishments in a single weekend (blintzes and pastrami in LA, whitefish, bagels and MB soup in NY).

2nd Ave Deli Matzoh Ball Soup

But San Francisco has always been a slight disappointment. I wouldn’t go the extreme like many who claim there is NO good deli here. Millers on Polk has decent fare (especially their egg/bagel breakfast sandwich) – the MB soup is satisfying, albeit a little busy, their chopped liver is a little dense, but tasty, the meats are solid – not anything to write home about, but it’ll do. Moishes Pippic in Hayes valley has even better soup and great Chicago-style hot dogs. They also do better pastrami, corned beef and a delightful brisket special on Fridays. House of Bagels has quite good whitefish salad and liver – their bagels are passable, considering the alternatives. Sauls in Oakland never did much for me, but again, it is passable for high holidays and occasional fare.

But then came Wise Sons. I was skeptical. Mission hipster jew-food? I went in with every expectation to be critical. On my first visit, I was somewhat disappointed. I ordered the Matzoh Ball Soup and was told they were out of the balls. I got some of the broth and noodles, but sat in sadness lamenting my missing balls. I love those balls.

Photo courtesy of Chow.com

The pastrami was redemptive. I had a reuben and was amazed by the balance of brine and fat, spice and texture. It was up there at the top of the canon of pastramis (Langer’s in LA still holds top position). Great rye, sauerkraut, dressing – there was hope.

I since returned multiple times and tested out most of the menu items. And I am here to say that San Francisco is finally not only a contender in the deli world, but a dominant force, thanks to Wise Sons. What Leo Beckerman and Evan Bloom have accomplished is nothing short of legendary. They have managed to take the recipes of old-school, proper deli and bring them into a world of local sourcing, farmer’s markets and high-cheffing.

Let’s start with the Chocolate Babka. It’s an easy target. It sits next to the cashier and taunts you: “hey, fatass, eat me. no, you won’t pass me by”. Then there are the breakfast call-outs. The semite is a tasty grilled sandwich with eggs, cheese and a crispy pastrami. Their matzoh brie is legit. I like mine cooked well, but they understand texture and salt (Evan told me he uses maldon, like I do with mine – instant props). On the weekends they have Beauty’s Bagels from Oakland (Montreal style, cooked in wood-fired oven) which are seriously the best we have to offer in the Bay Area. Pair these with the incredible off-the-charts smoked trout salad.

Photo Courtesy of Mission Local

There’s a dozen other breakfast dishes, all worth the visit. And here’s the thing…the place isn’t that crowded at 10am on weekdays. Go sit without waiting on line, like the weekend hoards do. You’re in the know now.

For lunch, it’s mostly about the Pastrami. Try the rueben, try the standard one double-baked rye. Get nasty with pastrami fries, smothered in russian dress (shut the front door!) Or go for the gusto with the Deli burger, ground with pastrami in the meat (i think about 1/3). Read the fine print to see the 1/2 sandwich and small cup of the matzoh ball soup.

They still set up at the Ferry Building Farmer’s Market on Tuesday. They cater so you can have Wise Sons at your holiday meals. So stop bitching about deli and bagels in San Francisco. Those days are over. We’re a powerhouse now. I only wish I thought of it first.

 

Wise Sons Deli on Urbanspoon

A Tale of Two Delis…

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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

And so it is, we are faced with two new sandwich shops for comparison. In the summer of Aught’Twelve, a time of culinary bounty and impending depravity (we shall miss you dear foie), there lie two places – on opposites sides of town, with opposite sensibilities and objectives…and yet both are deeply satisfying.

PRIME DIP – 1515 Fillmore - http://www.primedip.com/

I heard of the legend of the Surf-N-Turf. It made it’s way around the blogosphere and I was intrigued. A lobster roll is an epicurean treasure, not to be taken lightly. Not to be slathered with mayo (in my book). Rather, it should be gently poached and dealt with in butter, on a roll. A simple roll. Not much else to it. It’s often expensive beyond reason. But it’s to be savored and relished and adored.

A good prime rib dip may not be as elegant, but can also satisfy in ways that calls one to travel for her pleasures. Give me au jus or give me death. Make it thin, pink and tender. Make her broth savory. Again, the roll is important. Horseradish is a plus.

Photo Courtesy of Localaddition.com

Bring them together in combination, half on each side of a serving vessel and one might gaze quizzically at first, but ultimately understand. The intersection of buttery lobster and horseradishy beef looks a little jumbled. I pushed them apart before I dug in. They weren’t supposed to mingle that closely. And they were delicious (and only $11, including a side of my choice).

Prime Dip is nothing fancy. I think I heard they are using rolls from Lee’s Deli. But this is definitely a step up from Lee’s. They have created some lovely, satisfying sandwiches that will bring me back. The sides are nothing to write home about. The atmosphere is uninspired. But on cross-town jaunts that hit lower Fillmore, it’s worth a stop.

SALUMERIA – 3000 20th Street - http://www.salumeriasf.com/

Occupying the realm of complete opposites to Prime Dip, Salumeria, the offshoot of her big sister Flour + Water, is a darling little gem of superlatives. The design and decor is painfully perfect. Apparently the space was an old sausage factory that was aptly repurposed for our deli delights. But the food is what really shines.

Where Prime Dip offers pedestrian sandwiches, Salumeria goes farm-to-table and brings some of the F+W soul along for the ride. Delights like a roast beef on house made pretzel roll will boggle your mind. Duck confit or any variety of house made salumi and charcuterie find their way into creative assemblies along side stunning salads / antipasti.

Everything at Salumeria can be enjoyed in the adjacent courtyard shared with Central Kitchen, the third project by the F+W guys (review to come later when I’ve been a few times). The whole space feels like you landed on a photo shoot for Sunset Magazine. It’s the epitome of NorCal style and grace, smack in the heart of Mission Gulch. And of course that means there will be hipsters.

Photo Courtesy of Eater.com

Moreover, you can purchase the salumi, cheeses, etc. as well as house-made ricotta and pastas from Flour + Water. To me, that’s a huge bonus. In fact, they just stepped up to Fatted Calf and said, yes we can. I recently hosted a dinner party including a number of their treats. And my guests claimed yes they did.

And so I declare that I am satisfied by both. I am a man of contradiction, but I follow my heart. And I shall always follow my heart. So I leave you with Dickens…

He knew enough of the world to know that there is nothing in it better than the faithful service of the heart.

Salumeria (Opening Soon) on Urbanspoon

Prime Dip on Urbanspoon

Eat Shit!

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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.

Quick Review: 25 Lusk

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$13 meeellion dollars. For reals, yo. Pimp-ass fools spent $13m on a restaurant. So much for the recession.

Last night I had the opportunity to dine at the spanking new 25 Lusk. The restaurant is housed in a former brick-n-timber smokehouse and is tres sexy. I’ve read a lot about this place, mostly regarding the design and the team of partners that include an Emeril alumn and some seriously rich dudes.

25 Lusk Smokerooms

Photo: Jennifer Yin - Courtesy of Eater SF

First let me talk about the space. The place is clearly designed. To the hilt. Every detail is covered, with interesting sight lines and textural contrasts, insane lighting and nooks-n-crannies to get lost. There will definitely be a cocktail crowd here and they plan to serve the full menu in the smokehouse / bar area (which has low ceilings, a lot of exposed concrete, reinforced steel and conduit). There are various lounge settings with ski-house looking floating fireplaces. I wish that this place would attract the food obsessed and laid-back sorts, but I fear the douche factor could take over easily. This space has FIDI ‘play-ah’ written all over it.

25 Lusk Fireplace

Photo: Jennifer Yin - Courtesy of Eater SF

Upstairs the vibe is more open. There is an amazing private dining room encased in glass that will certainly attract celebs and the SF elite. The main dining area is lovely, but it didn’t give me a wow moment like downstairs. That’s a lot of money for ‘meh’. And, while the bathrooms are lovely, I think the material choices were based on form and not function. The stone floors show the drops of water as you reach for your towel and the sinks get trashed after a few washings. The men’s urinal seems to have some technology that creates an artistic pattern out the impact of your stream. I could have peed all night.

25 Lusk Interior

Photo: Jennifer Yin - Courtesy of Eater SF

The menu is currently limited to a dozen or so items and each thing we had was good to exceptional. Standout was a cauliflower creme brulée. It’s the real deal and surprisingly incorporated truffles with success. The arugula salad was salty and uninspired but the pork cheek terrine more than made up for it. It was a little crispy on the outside and moist in the middle with a hint of sweet. A lovely cube of well-handled animal flesh. The only main we tried was the braised short ribs. There was a nice fat ratio and the sauce was a sublime wine demi that brought me back for dipping. Other mains looked solid – not a lot of risks here.

Cocktails continue the trend of innovation, and outshining the food. A lineup of playful, yet well-crafted drinks should make for some happy houring. The dessert menu didn’t scream, so we passed. I’m wondering if they’ll step it up when the menu kicks in full gear. I think desserts could really shine in this environment.

In general I think 25 Lusk is destined to establish itself in our dining landscape. While they play it safe on the menu, the food plays well off the decor. My concern is how could they possibly live up to the money they invested. They opened on Saturday and I suppose word is still getting around, as the place was fairly empty on Monday night. I’m guessing nobody is in this to make money.

Artisan & Audiophile

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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.

Una Pizza Napoletana

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.

 

Una Pizza Napoletana Oven

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.

New Skool!

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For years I’ve driven up and down Potrero Hill, De Haro St. to be exact. Up to 22nd St. to my home. Down to Division St. for work. Back and forth, day after day. For the past two years there has been a curious sign on a showroom building at the corner of Alameda St. “restaurant space available”. It was an odd location, but seemed to have a patio and from what I know of this neighborhood, a lot of potential. We’ve got Adobe, Advent, Zynga and every designer worth his salt within 4 blocks. And, we’re dying for a real restaurant. I’ve dreamed often about selling my business and opening up something in that spot, who-knows-what, because I sensed this was a gem.

Skool Sign

Grand Pu Bah tried, but it proved to be niche rather than the next Slanted Door. Pizza Nostra, from the Chez Papa gang, was a step up, but still didn’t have the ‘it’ factor. There’s a ton of adequate places nearby, from Patisserie Phillipe, Chez Papa, Sunflower, Aperto, Umi Sushi – but nothing would turn the heads of your garden-variety foodie. They’re just neighborhood joints. Enter Skool.

The “space available” turns out to be a sexy spot for the next hot restaurant. I had lunch there today and got a lowdown from the owner. Apparently the landlord had a vision when he built the building years ago. He was willing to wait for the right people to come along to realize his vision. He built out the space with a designer’s eye and the attention to detail is clear. The place just feels good.

The people he chose were the couple behind Blowfish, Andy Mirabell and his fiancée Olia Kedik. Moreover, they teamed up with another couple, Toshihiro and Hiroko Nagano in the kitchen. There’s a definite young- entrepreneur vibe about the space, as the busy themselves to make your experience exceptional and to connect with their potential regulars.

Skool Aji Sandwich

Well, spank my ass and call me Sally, but I’m sold. The menu is loaded with healthy fish-forward options. There is a clear sophistication behind the cuisine and enough to keep me occupied enough to become a regular. I’ve only had the Aji sandwich with a side of fries and a cup of carrot-ginger soup, but I’m ready to go back for more. There’s a coffee-marinated steak sandwich, flatbreads and a bunch of creative fish mains. I’ll work my way through and offer a proper review top to bottom later.

What really has me sold is the idea of maximizing the sunshine of Potrero out on the patio, once they finalized their liquor license. Even on the rare foggy day the inside bar is a really appealing place to swill and they plan on some fab cocktails, designed by a Rye alum (I didn’t get her name). Can you sayz happy hour?

Currently only open for lunch. Opening for dinner on July 9 Phone 415-255-8800 | Address 1725 Alameda Street, San Francisco, CA 94103 | Skype SkoolSF | Twitter SkoolSF | Facebook SkoolSF

Quick Review: Thermidor

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Cool concept. Walking in to Thermidor, located in the ever-expanding culinary bastion of Mint Plaza, feels like stepping onto the set of Mad Men. The hostess was dolled up in a dress with a bow and could easily pass for a Don Draper conquest. The wood-panel decor nails the mid-century-modern vibe that has dominated the design world in recent years. This is the latest concept venture of Spork’s Bruce Binn and Neil Jorgenson.

The food continues the theme with unwavering dedication. Though I barely touched the 60′s, I still recall dishes like pommes Dauphine, celery Victor, scallops Newburg and sole amandine. I was excited to see chicken Keiv, one of my favorite indulgences from childhood, and Lobster Thermidor, the namesake and specialty of the house.

While the food was good, I think they are missing the boat at Thermidor. Most of the dishes we tried came out very traditional versus the modern interpretations I was expecting. It seems they are taking the theme somewhat too literally for my preference. I would have like to have seen them reinvent the form (perhaps unleash the Voltaggio Brothers on the menu?). Deconstruct!

The Pommes were fried potatoes, pretty straighforward. The Caesar salad was creamy, despite my inquiry and assurance that it was traditional style. The standout app was a potato chip with smoked fish, roe and créme fraiche. The mains didn’t go much further than advertised, though the Sole Almondine did have a nice gnocchi accompaniment. The Lobster Thermidor was tasty enough, but again, lacking innovation and a painfully small portion at $32.

The cocktail menu actually delivers on the concept. Brooke Arthur has updated classics in a way that should inspire the kitchen. I’d come here for a drink anytime, and maybe jump over to 54 Mint (the authentic Italian place across the plaza) for dinner.

Emelia’s Pizza – The Long Awaited Review

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I relish reviewing pizza. Any regular reader knows that this is probably my most common theme. Last year’s onslaught of Neapolitan joints doesn’t seem to be slowing in twenty-ten. Bring it on.

Emelia’s is a bit of an enigma. Yelpers just love it. Best they ever had. Gives Berkeley some serious bragging rites as a pizza powerhouse (adding to Arinelle and [uggh] Zachary’s). There’s a lot of mystery around the place. It’s got odd hours and a rigid ordering process. In fact, they suggest you call ahead to reserve your pizza, requiring you choose your toppings at that time. They seem like very nice people, yet I sense an underlying Soup Nazi vibe…Still, there’s a preciousness about it all.

The location is a little odd, a non-descript gas-station corner at Shattuck and Ashby. It’s the sort of corner I’ve driven past countless times, but never had cause to stop. There’s a gaggle of businesses that may or may not have included a laundromat, a taqueria, a cheesesteak place, a salon…The interior looks like a tiny East Coast slice joint (yet there are a couple of signs touting No Slices [For You]). One might say it’s a bit of a hole in the wall, but I suspect if the mojo keeps going, and the owner is able to figure out a business model, they might ride a wave to better digs.

Emelia's Pizza - Berkeley

But really we’re here for the pizza and Emelia’s is an interesting bird. The construct defies any traditional stereotypes. It’s not Neapolitan, though has influences. It’s not New York style, though clearly has similarities. In a subtle way, Emelia’s is defining it’s own category. This presents me with a bit of a quagmire, because I cannot review it based upon references and drop into any hierarchy.

The 18″ pie is the only choice with some straightforward toppings. The owner is very coy about his secrets, which I found a little unnecessary. I inquired about tomatoes and cheese and got nada. Even the best pizzaiolos are confident enough to share their ingredients. Hell, in Naples the law dictates the ingredients – it’s no secret. The size is much more akin to New York style, yet the crust, thickness and toppings are clearly closer to Neapolitan.

The sauce was my least favorite part, though it was not bad. To me it could have been a little sweeter – it reminded me of Flour + Water on my first visits, which they subsequently worked out well. The cheese was outstanding and the crust was spot on, bottom to edge. There were brilliant bubbles from the oven and a little bit of the chewy, crunchy balance I like. The cheese was a fresh mozzarella variety, not quite as runny as a typical burrata, but close. A smattering of basil leaves were scattered about.

So, how to rank this? I’m jaded because I love the Neapolitan and New York forms unto themselves. They provide a great reference point. I don’t think it stands up to the best of the best of the best. The owner spent time working for Pizzaiolo, but I think Charlie still takes top billing in the East Bay. Arinelle still nails the [inconsistent] title of proper NY slice in my book. But there is a solid place in the second tier for Emelia’s. I can see craving it, which surprises me. This would be a GREAT party pie, as you get the flavor of Naples but the size of New York. Order a few, but call early.

Lastly, I gained some insight into the owner’s strategy after happening upon a poetry slam at a dive bar up the street. He was packing up and I asked him about the name. His young daughter is Emelia. He’s working his butt off to keep the quality high and churn out as many pizzas as he can, without missing out too much on her developmental years. As a dad, I get that. It makes sense for the odd hours and limited quantity. I wish him the best to scale his idea, hire some solid staff and capitalize on some damn good pizza.

Lafitte is a Butter Face!

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Here we go again…it seems like I get a stick up my ass about a place and that’s the motivation I need to write. My last post was weeks ago and life was going along just fine. Not too much controversy, minding my own damn business, keeping my head above water, blah blah blah. Then I had two instances to try out newcomer restaurant, former underground dining, 19th century pirate – Lafitte. First was a dinner and then I mistakenly booked a business lunch later in the week. I decided I’d give them a Bauer treatment and visit multiple times. Man was it ugly.

Cincinnati Bengal

First, let’s get the Butter Face thing out of the way. According to the urban dictionary, a butter face is:

A girl with an exceptionally hot body but an exceptionally ugly face. “Everything but-her-face is attractive”

I don’t want to come off misogynistic, but “but-his-face” just doesn’t have the same panache. Personally, I always liked the term “Cincinnati Bengal” which boils down to “Nice Uniform, Shitty Helmet”.

So you enter Lafitte and realize someone spent some dough to make it look nice. Clean lines, pretty views – very much a part of the Embarcadero Renaissance that is happening right now. Not very underground. One could easily say that the ‘uniform’ is quite nice. Well done.

Lafitte Interior

Then there is the food. For clarification’s sake, if you haven’t picked up on where I’m heading with this you should be lobotomized I’ll spell it out – the food is the ‘face’ or ‘helmet’. And, fuck me, she’s an ugly bitch!

I don’t like to cast stones too easily well yes I do, and look how I’ve discovered this nifty stikethrough button woo hoo not only did I have two experiences to confirm this, but tonight I attended a food event where multiple trusted colleagues confirmed my assessment. Checking the Yelpasphere shows similar discontent. This dog has fleas.

Without getting into much detail, I’ll give you my basic impression.

For lunch there were several missteps. Little gems are a treasure to me and I’ve rarely seen them so beaten and battered and unkempt while dressed in a watered-down mess (served with a flavorless, mushy polenta ‘cake’). The pasta dish I ordered was billed as ‘Fusilli Pasta: lobster, pea shoots, & spring onions’. In the hands of a competent chef, that sounds rather tasty. One might expect some fresh, silky pasta in a pool of savory sauce and hunks of tender lobster for $18 at lunch. Rather, I received boxed dry fusilli (I ain’t kidding, like Barila) served with micro bits of chewy lobster-like substance and some manky greens on top. To their credit, the sauce was ok. But the crown jewel was a ‘dagwood’ sando that had 4 monster slices of bread, stuffed with rabbit terrine, bacon and black bass. Really? Really? Thank god I wasn’t paying.

Dinner was slightly better, but not that much so. A morel and asparagus quiche was served cold and flavorless. The squash blossom pasta was ‘meh’, as was the chicken with morels. The best thing of the night was Pan Roasted Padrons & Boquerones Vinagrette. But I could make that at home. Mine would be better. Seriously, I’ll give you a recipe.

This all leads me to a gripe. I’ll likely need to expand on this in another post. But just for argument’s sake, how is it possible that a restaurant can be so oblivious to their misgivings when your entire world is in food? It wasn’t hard for at dozen or so people with whom I’ve discussed Lafitte to uniformly identify multiple major problems. What’s going on there that makes them so blind? I’m guessing that sometimes a butter face actually doesn’t really know she’s a butter face. Hmmm.

I suppose the word is out, because on both occasions the place was barren. With lines down the block at La Mar, Slanted Door and The Plant Cafe, it’s not like the potential isn’t there. It might be time to hoist the sails, matey, and head back to the underground. This butter face needs some reconstructive plastic surgery, stat!

Khao Soi to Warm Your Bones

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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.

The Most Under-Appreciated Restaurant in Town

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Today I had a sick day. Awful upper resp nonsense. Sat in bed and tried to work all day. Watched a few crappy movies. When a friend called me at the end of the day to see if I wanted dinner, one place came to both of our minds – Universal Cafe.

I’ve said it before and have given them props in multiple posts, but UC is one of the best restaurants in San Francisco, and is completely under-appreciated. It troubles me how often you’ll find the place half-empty and the lack of adulation they get in food circles. To me, the consistent quality of food put out of their kitchen rivals the best in the Bay. I could easily mention Universal in the same breath as Nopa, Delfina, Pizzaiolo, Flour + Water, Beretta and the like. In some ways, many of the things they do at Universal, they do best.

Take chicken for example. Hoffman Farms has become the standard for a quality bird, but Leslie Carr Avalos has figured out a way to bring every bit of flavor from it, in multiple preparations. She’s no one-trick-pony! Under a brick, marinated with yogurt or with a truffle bread salad – she makes the best fowl in the city! And I typically don’t like chicken.

Her pasta dishes are heavier than F + W or Quince, but they are incredible well balanced and satisfying. Soups – check. Salads – check. Fish – oh yeah. Braised meats, like shorts ribs, pork belly, lamb – check, check, check. The flatbreads are better than most of the pizza in town. Not to mention the mainstay Hanger Steak. I can sincerely say that I’ve never had a dish that I didn’t find exceptional at UC. That’s just crazy.

Of course we’re all familiar with their brunch. I can’t imagine a better combination of sunshine, outdoor dining, quality food and atmosphere, except perhaps Foreign Cinema. House-made granola, soft scambled eggs with seasonal this and thats. You get the picture. Bring on the Bellinis and Mimosas and slap me a side of artisan bacon or a sweet bread.

So, as I just finished off my salad of little gems and radishes after my mini rigatoni with veal meatballs, I am compelled to do whatever I can to share the wealth. Get in on the secret. Universal Cafe. Y’all here me?

Best Dishes in San Francisco, Part Four

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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

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

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

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

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

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

737 Bridgeway Hamburgers Rotisserie Grill

Last one tomorrow…….

Best Dishes in San Francisco, Part Three

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Now we’re gaining some momentum. Site traffic today was back to peak levels. Blogging as a modern medium still follows some old-school rules: specifically, publish or perish. There is clearly a direct correlation to new, good posts and blog traffic. Duh. I know that y’all likes you some recommendations. It’s clear people want to be told what to eat.

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

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

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

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.

Best Dishes in San Francisco, Part Two

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Ok, so admittedly yesterday’s post was kinda lame. If you’re a tourist and come to SF for the first time, they were the Mission-must-sees. There’s no doubt they are high on the list of best in the city, but the real foodies are looking for some more snobbish nods. I’m not going to get all private-dining-club on you here, but these require a little city knowledge to uncover. So, round two, in no particular order:

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

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

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

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

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!

4505 Meats Hot Dogs!

More tomorrow……