foodwinesex

Bar Bambino, Baby

The devoted bored know I dine out most nights. This, of course, means I see a good number of new restaurants. I hear about them from my foodie friends, like JK, or from those in the know, like C (who always seems to beat me to the new places and is kind enough not to gloat). There have been a lot of recent openings (Tablespoon, Spork, Cav) but none of them have really done much for me...at least until last night when JK and I ate at Bar Bambino.

I'd actually been there a couple of week ago with my good buddy GP when his fam went out of town and he was a 5-day bachelor. We went in and had a couple of glasses of good Italian vino, ran into a gal I know, chatted a bit and then headed to Spork for dinner. (I wont get into the Spork meal other than to say it was OK and I absconded with a cheap metal spork.) I'd wanted to have dinner there but reservations (via email) were tough to get. I tried again early this week and the manager again turned me away. I replied that I'd struck out three times but he had no response...but then I got an email from one Fiona who said she could squeeze me in. (Fiona, you are a rock star.)

Tonight I was driving so I stopped by JK's office to pick him up - and to remind myself what a start-up office looks like. I told him to take pictures soon because he'd be moving into much bigger offices soon given what I'd seen of his product. The future for his company (Xoopit) looks bright. We soon headed off to Bar Bambino and a glass of Prosecco.

We found easy parking, walked in and asked for Fiona. "I am Fiona", she said. (When you visit, spot the short, cute gal with short hair. That'll be Fiona. With service like that she has a future in the restaurant business.) She had a table ready for us...just like that. The place was packed and had that "hip and happening SF spot" vibe going. The waiter came by and suggested a prosecco (how did he know?) that was not on the menu. Fuck yeah! Although the place was packed the service was good. JK and I split a bunch of things starting with the antipasta, Tuna with cannellini beans and red onions. Strange combo and it took me a full two bites to really enjoy it. The waiter came by with a half bottle of chianti (the name of which I unfortunately neglected to get). We soon followed up with Bruschetta with fresh ricotta and roasted tomato. The ricotta was light and fluffy and the tomatoes were sweet. The next plate was the pasta course, a Tagliatelle with rabbit. This was the killer dish. The rabbit was tender and savory...perfectly cooked. the fourth course, a meat course was Maiale al latte (pork shoulder slow braised in milk with sage and lemon). Cooked to perfection, the meat fell apart as we forked it to the plate. For dessert we had an off-menu olive oil cake with a small dish of vanilla gelato on the side.

I liked pretty much everything about this place. The ambiance, service and food were all top notch. The wine list - pretty much all Italians - looks great. Parking was easy and Fiona took care of us. I handed her a twenty as we headed out. I gotta get C over here for dinner. She'll love it.

g.

Where it begins....

foodwinesex. There's something in there for everyone. When my marriage began disintegrating at the beginning of the year I sought something to occupy my free time...a challenge. I came across Michael Bauer's (food critic SF Chronicle) list and embarked on a mission (with several friends in tow) to eat my way through all 100. Since I do a bit of business traveling I'll also eat at the best restaurants in the cities I visit as well as occasional pilgrimages to gustatory shrines overseas. I am now about half-way through Bauer's list and have eaten at 3 of the 4 Michelin three-star restaurants in NYC (Per Se, Alain Ducasse, Jean Georges). I've eaten at Fat Duck in London (well Bray actually) and at any number of good/great places off the published lists. I'll try to touch on all of them going forward.

Now, the sex part. It's all too easy to lump everything together under the banner of satisfying appetites...too glib. I find the enjoyment of food and wine to be heightened when enjoyed in the company of others. When that "company" is an interesting woman, food takes on added dimensions. Lingering over a bordeaux and enjoying conversation heightens anticipation.

I don't know if I'll make every restaurant on the list. I dont know who I'll meet along the way and who'll join me for dinner. I will report on all of it for anybody interested.

g

My Little Red Sportscar

foodwinesex. Its funny to note the metaphors used in describing interpersonal relationships. I was recently chatting with two women, both veterans of the SF dating scene, and they were describing me as a "new listing". Real Estate. Thankfully I wasn't described as a "fixer-upper". Another metaphor was the "little red wagon" which is the transport device for a woman's "issues" or "baggage". I'm not without my own issues of course but what I see out there sometimes requires a 747 jumbo jet to move.

This is the shit I was trying to jettison from my thoughts as I drove over to the SF Ferry Building. I was also touching on the night before. While driving home I was listening to Energy 92.7 FM and the DJ was talking about a show that night at Ruby Skye. As it turned out, Pete Tong was spinning and tickets were long sold out but if you're one of the first ten callers...well, I was indeed one of the first ten and a pair of tickets would be waiting at will call. At this point I gave ChP a call only to find her at the airport. It was an ice-breaker of sorts since we hadn't spoken in a week. She was heading out of town for a friend's party down in Palm Desert for the weekend. I'm in her doghouse. We had an arguement and it was pretty much my fault...actually entirely my fault. It's gonna take some supplicating to get back into her good graces - something I definitely want. Sometimes I'm a fuckup. Obviously ChP wasn't going dancing tonight so I called another friend, a gal who is a great dancer. Just friends with no chance for anything more. Perfect. We danced our asses off and went home. No alcohol...just water. Good exercise, lots of fun, no hangover. Nice.

Saturday morning was crisp and clear...another perfect autumn San Francisco morning. I know as far as top-down driving I'm living on borrowed time. Last year the rainy season started early and went long into the year. Brutal. So far the weather has held out nicely and I'm supplicating the weather gods by giving thanks. On my way over, I gave K a call. This was our thing. Every Saturday morning we'd go over to the Ferry Building for breakfast and people watching. Today was perfect for both. K was homesick. She missed the baby gallettes we had every Saturday. She wanted a few days off from school and longed to sleep in her own bed...just for a few nights. She'll be home for five days for Thanksgiving and I'm looking forward to catching up with her and hearing all about her new boyfriend Steven.

As usual, the Farmer's market was packed but everyone is still shaking off sleep and moving slowly. I sidled up to the Hog Island Oyster Company counter and ordered a small plate of oysters (Sweetwaters, Atlantics, and Kumamotos). A dash of hot sauce and voilà, breakfast. Damn they were good. Wandered over to a pastry vendor and got my baby gallettes and almond bars. The line was too long, as always, at Peets so I headed into Delica rf-1, the Japanese delicatessen. Beef sushi (Meyer Ranch natural, hormone-free beef, topped with baby arugula, minced shallots, and julienne radish, wrapped with Nori seaweed), Kobe-style deep-fried Potato Croquettes (delicately fried Russet and Yukon gold potato and sautéed onion croquette, and wasabi garlic potato salad (garlic potato salad with wasabi mayonnaise, edamame, snap peas, and romaine hearts). Staples for any well-stocked San Francisco kitchen.

As is my ritual, I headed over the Whole Foods on 4th Street to do my weekly grocery shopping. The usual...fresh pineapple, St. Benoit yogurt, organic milk, salads, etc. From here its on to the Jug Shop on Russian Hill to pick up a few bottles of wine for the week. (Looks like I'll be drinking the wine alone for the next few days.) Some days, slow sunny days, afford me the time to appreciate and luxuriate in the small pleasures of life in SF. How lucky am I to have all this stuff at my reach? Something to keep in mind this week of Thanksgiving.

I do miss ChP.

g.

Boston Uncommon

Weatherwise, we got lucky in Boston. This time of year precipitation usually means snow. For this trip it just means light drizzle and pea-soup fog. The locals are grateful. Fortunately I came prepared...umbrella and my long black Armani trenchcoat. I don't get much of an opportunity to wear it and I love it. Win-win. I arrived Saturday evening and had a reservation for dinner at Sorellina. I've been looking forward to this dinner for several weeks...since reading about it in Esquire's article on the twenty best new restaurants in the US. I've dined at good restaurants here many times before (Radius, Teatro, L'Espalier) but always felt they came up short compared to NY and SF. Esquire also listed Junnoon in Palo Alto in the twenty best and they certainly got that right (although they should have chosen Bushi-tei easily over Bongsu which is really warmed over Tamarine). After three visits (including last Tuesday as a going away dinner for GNP who is moving into the fast-paced world of renewable energy) Junnoon is a personal fave. Hopes were high.

I arrived 30 minutes before my 8PM reservation and took to the bar and a Belvedere martini done right. This was my first meal of the day (no airline box today) and the martini settled in quickly. My dinner companion, FJH, is the account director for the client I was in town to visit. As I downed the last of my martini he walked in the door and we were shown to our table. The decor was reminiscent of Moo in Barcelona...expansive floorspace, cork floors, dark wood and white linens, large white plates with a silhouette of a leafless tree across the center, tables arranged to offer enough privacy for conversation but not so removed as to feel isolated. The ambiance was contemporary yet warm. One wall was entirely occupied with a back-lit monochrome photo mural on glass of rows of pine trees on a hill. If the food and service matched the ambiance we were in for a great meal.

Our waitress came by and offered the menus (contemporary Italian) and wine list. Everything looked appetizing and the choices were tough. For openers I ordered Tuna - hand-cut raw, spicy mostarda aioli and chili vinegar and FJH ordered Crudo - raw sliced yellowtail, citrus, hot peppers and sea salt. We also split an order of Maccheroncelli with American kobe beef meatballs, barolo sauce and parmigiano. For entrees I went with Niman Ranch Berkshire pork chop, barley “risotto”, braised pork belly and dried fruit mostarda. FJH went with Chicken - natural, herb roasted, potatoes and olive harvest ragu. Our eyes being much bigger than our stomach (this was my only meal of the day) allowed us to order sides of sweet corn polenta and truffled fries with parmigiano. Lots of food coming. We ordered a bottle of Truchard Pinot Noir to wash it all down.

Looking back, the easiest way to review the meal is to just say "Wow!" This turned out to be one hell of a meal where every single thing we tried was best of class. The tuna openers...mine had a nice bite to it due to the chili vinegar but it was the freshness of the tuna that I really noticed. Damn good. FJH's crudo was velvety smooth and translucently thin. The citrus and peppers gave it a pungency that couldn't mask the freshness of the yellowtail. I couldn't choose which was more perfect. Then came the meatballs. This dish was called out in the Esquire article and I can see why. I could eat this every night. The Barolo sauce was just a bit sweet and very rich. Ultra comfort food. Again, damn good. I'd have been happy to pay full tab for just what we'd had up to now but the best was yet to come. The pork chop and chicken arrived followed by the polenta and the fries. Now...being an American I've eaten fries all over the country...all styles...thick cut style, garlic fries and so on (although I would never fucking order something called Freedom Fries). I have never, ever had fries that were this good. Long, thin cut potatoes generously salted with sea salt, a light dusting of parmigiano and specks of black truffles created one of the great, simple dishes I've ever eaten. Goddamn these were good. I can still taste them a day later. The chicken and pork were spectacular. The chicken fell off the bone and the pork chop was perfectly cooked and seasoned. The pork belly was rich and tasty. The polenta was perfect. I asked our waitress to compliment the enitre kitchen.

I know I'm a lucky man when over the course of a week I can eat great meals at Limon (Ceviche de Pescado and truffled mac and cheese with Pumpkin Bundino for dessert down the street at Delfina), Junnoon, Kiss, Bushi-tei and Sorellina. I can't recall ever having a run like this over the course of a week (except Barcellona but I had to travel ten thousand miles to get it). At Sorellina the food and wine were so good that I almost forgot about the sex part. Almost. ChP and I are on the outs right now (and I'm away in Boston) but that's another story altogether.

g.

A Soft Glow to the Head

foodwinesex. Thursday evening’s commute back to the city may have been the worst ever. It was bumper to bumper all the way from Mountain View north on 101. Most of the workday was dealing with our board meeting, which had ended a couple of hours earlier. I had just left a review meeting and was on my way to get my hair cut…having waited two weeks from the day I got an appointment with Tara at Kamalaspa…and just knew I was gonna be late. About halfway up the evening took a turn when I moved from the two lane toward the one lane and got smacked upside the door by a Suzuki motorcycle. A young guy, obviously in love with his bike (given the expensive looking Suzuki color-coordinated leathers he was wearing) was both somewhat inexperienced riding it and impatient enough to split lanes. On the collision he remained upright and other than a sore arm from where it met with my side-view mirror, the only damage visible in the darkness was a dent and long scratch along the driver’s side of my M3. Fuck. This means at least a week in the shop. At least I have a guy. It also means CHP coming out to do the inquiry, etc. No haircut tonight. The only question remaining…would I make it on time for dinner with ChP at Bushi-tei?

Traffic never did let up and I ended up arriving at dinner at exactly 8PM…three hours after I left the valley. This is what commuting is coming to. With Silicon Valley booming again traffic has gotten considerably worse than a year ago. What used to take 50 minutes in the morning on 280 is now 75 minutes. I am NOT looking forward to the rainy season and what that means.

Bushi-tei. This is the second time I’ve been here, the first being a visit a couple of months ago with BK. That meal was surprisingly good. We both had the Omakase and every bit of it was great as was the service and ambiance. Since my evening had gotten off to such a fucked start I was really hoping for something to make up for it…both dinner and afterwards.

I walked in…place was full. I approached the hostess and before I uttered a word she said, “Mr. g, your guest is waiting for you upstairs.” Nice touch…how did she know who I was? I went upstairs to find ChP at our table…totally decked out in a black and white dress with a plunging neckline. She looked fucking great wearing her hair up and a huge smile, perhaps to make up for what she knew I’d just been through. The salmon colored lighting gave her skin a soft glow. (Good restaurant designers know exactly what they’re doing.) Her cleavage took my mind off the traffic/accident/hellish-parking trifecta. The waiter in his soft French accent offered menus and reviewed the Omakase. We had a few questions and then requested a wine suggestion…a pinot. He winked and suggested a Fritz, which was not on the menu, very reasonably priced and as it turned out, delicious. Things were going well. We went to order and went with Tender loin of Kobe beef, pommes frites, perigueux (me) and Grilled Chilean sea bass, baby bokchoi, pignoli, ginger- tamari, lime oil (ChP). We both went with the celery root cream soup to start. (Given the menu I would have normally gone with a fish dish but last night I feasted at Kiss with JK and gorged on super-fresh sushi - and sake - until I couldn’t eat any more.) The wine was poured and an Amuse-Bouche was delivered. The mushroom pate was light and flavorful. The soup arrived and was terrific…perfect temperature (a pet peeve since most soups arrive too cool), flavorful and beautifully textured. I enjoyed it quickly since I this was my first meal of the day. I repeated my appreciation for ChP’s dress, smile, cleavage for the fifteenth time and poured more wine. We hadn’t gone with the sweetbreads Omakase and instead chose from the entrée/plata menu and our entrées arrived. My Kobe beef, rare, was perfect. Right balance of seared outside to blood inside…my protein fix. ChP’s sea bass was perfect as well. The service was the right balance of attendance, intimacy, humor and understanding. This guy was gonna get a big tip.

We split a dessert of Roquefort roasted black mission fig, vanilla bean oil with balsamic ice cream. Just the right ending. The sweetness of the figs was balanced with the creamy pungency of the ice cream. Hell of a good meal, I’d say one of the five best I’ve had this year, with great service and perfect ambiance. As we headed down the stairs, the proprietor who had been walking up the stairs, stopped, changed direction and retrieved ChP’s coat. We had no idea how he knew it was hers. Again, nice trick.

On the strength of two visits I think that not only did Bushi-tei deserve their Michelin star but frankly I think they’re better than all four of the two-star places (Aqua, Manresa, Michael Mina, Cyrus) awarded in the bay area. This is one of the very best places in town. Earlier in the evening I congratulated our waiter on their star and he responded that they were very proud of the award. I went on to say that my favorite place in town these days is Fleur de Lys (awarded a single star…robbery) and he told me that Hubert Keller brought a group to Bushi-tei twice a month to eat. High compliment indeed.

After dinner we headed back to ChP’s place for a little down time together. We hadn’t been together for 5 days (and I’m not seeing anybody else) but it felt like a year and the sex emphasized that. Tonight was a bit more intense and a bit less playful than usual. It completely erased the tensions of the day and it wasn’t until later when I got back into my car and saw the scratch that it came back…but just a little. Bushi-tei and ChP seemed to be the magic combination to make it all right again.

g.

How do they yodel in Disneyland?

The list grows shorter. Tonight BK and I have Matterhorn on the agenda. We usually dine on Wednesdays but this week proved logistically challenging so we did Tuesday. (Tomorrow night I have dinner with MMc at Bistro Elan in Palo Alto.) This was BK's night. I spent half an hour finding a parking spot. He arrived a few minutes late and the owner relayed that he should park in the loading space in front of the restaurant. After he arrived we ordered a cocktail. Looking at the bar, we wondered if they could actually pull off a Negroni. The owner/bartender took our order and told us that her husband's favorite drink was a Negroni and she delivered a good one (and my Belvedere Martini - superdry, up, twist - was fine). Nice. Menus came. There were both entrée and fondue menus. Pretty much everything on both menus looked good. Much of the fondue menu was foreign to me as I've never eaten at a fondue restaurant before. The cheeses listed were familiar of course but given the amount of time I spend in the gym (not to mention the cholesterol inherent) I decided to limit the cheese to an appetizer and ordered the Raclette Valaisanne (melted mountain cheese with potatoes and mixed pickles). BK went with the Baked Camembert with Spicy Tomato Sauce. Both were good. The combination of cheese and pickles was unusual and took a moment for my palette to adjust. Very angular but rich combination of tastes. The portion was large and became somewhat gelatinous before I finished eating and couldn't eat it all. (We washed everything down with a 2000 Chateau Nuf De Pape - a fave of ours.) BK enjoyed but did not rave about his Camambert.

I took a minute to look around the restaurant. It was pleasant. Located on the ground floor of an office building it appeared as a plastic, Disneyfied version of a Swiss restaurant. Initially the music was of a generic oompah variety but thankfully moved into something just as generic but more contemporary. Wallpaper music. The place was about sixty percent filled at the peak. The service was friendly and unfussy. As we came to our entrées, the wine was relaxing us...things are a bit stressful at work these days and the evenings where we can have good food and wine and discuss things other than work are welcome. I had ordered the Pork Tenderloin "Zermatt" (gratinéed with a spicy cheese and onion topping, served with potatoes of the day). BK ordered the Zuri "Gschnatzeltes" (sliced veal in a light mushroom sauce, served with roesti potatoes). As it turned out, his order was the specialty of the house...like I said, this was his night. The Zermatt was teriffic...pork served as twin turrets, looking like small mountains with a cheese-onion topping that was meant to resemble a snowcap. (The Matterhorn). Comfort food and I simply couldn't finish. It felt heavy as comfort food tends to. BK did finish his and really enjoyed it. We were both surprised at the quality of the preparation and ingredients.

We finished the wine and headed out. There are less than a handful of places in SF proper left to visit on the list. I really need to get over to the East Bay and up to the Wine Country soon. I have a reservation at French Laundry in early November and I want to check out Ad Hoc while I'm up there. I'd love to have female companionship for this kind of thing. Having (glancingly) reconnected with ChP last Sunday evening at Mamacita's, there may be something there. We'll see.

g.

Recalibrating

foodwinesex. Hot and muggy. Occasional breeze. Recalibrating my sweating point. Sunday. Everything is closed on Sunday like when I was a kid. Catholic country. Recalibrating my expectations, but hold on...not so fast. Just walking around, this looks like a prosperous, stylish city. Very cosmopolitan. Restaurants are everywhere. People are crowding sidewalk cafes with a glass of San Miguel or a rioja and perhaps a bocadillo. The pace is quick but perhaps not as fast as San Francisco. Could be the weather or could be the internal clocks run on a different crystal. Could also be that the days are much longer. I'm getting on their speed quickly. My internal clock needs recalibrating and nothing like food, wine and sex to help get it there. Part of the whole clock thing is the schedule of life here. Dinner rarely starts before 10 PM and the streets are more crowded at 2 AM than at 11 PM.

We slept late, woke up and decided to walk over to the Museu Picasso. The day was the type of day you don't want to fight cause its gonna beat you every time. Hot and muggy. We took our time walking and passed under the Arc de Triomf. The boulevard it crowned was filled with men playing bocce and board games, families cavorting, kids with soccer balls practicing their footwork and people walking dogs. Lots of dogs in this city. We found our pace and wound up in the Old City section of town.

The first Sunday of every month means free admission at the Meseu Picasso and given the length of the queue in front of the place people took advantage of the subsidy vigorously. This reminded me of my trip to NY a few weeks ago with MOMA entry underwritten on Friday evenings by Target. I must be lucky. No matter, the line moved quickly and we were inside the museum within fifteen minutes. The museum itself was a string of small medieval mansions made into a common building. It was beautifully done. As we entered, I wasn't sure what I was seeing at first. Fine draftsmanship signed by Pablo Ruiz. It started coming back quickly. Picasso was Pablo Ruiz Picasso and his earliest works, the stuff he did before becoming serious about art, was signed Pablo Ruiz. Some of this was done as he was spending time near the art school where his father taught...it was in the blood. This was his earliest work and they had a lot of it. Wow. I've seen many Picasso exhibitions and have visited the Musée Picasso in Paris but have never seen anything like this. This was the missing link that drew the evolution to the Picasso that began amazing Paris (Blue Period, Rose Period) in the early twentieth century.

The crowd was all over the place. Some were art students. Others were tourists who wanted to check off a box in their "things to do" list. Others were there to meet people and yet others were locals who just wanted a free ticket to see the work of a native son. Despite the heat, long line to get in and a somewhat indifferent audience, this was a great show to see for anybody who appreciates the work of Picasso. Highly recommended.

On the walk back to our hotel, ChP and I stopped and had a glass of wine in a plaza. We made peace with the heat and humidity and then had a second glass of wine. Ahhhh...this is how the locals cope with a hot, muggy weekend. This works fine. When we got back to the hotel we realized that to go out to one of the better restaurants you definitely need reservations. On top of that, most major restaurants are closed on Sunday. We ended up skipping dinner but went out late looking for a cocktail. We wound up at a small club that was half filled and was notable for an area of the place that had sofas hanging from the ceiling. Couples sat and swung back and forth slowly. After two attempts we realized we were not gonna get a martini here. As it turned out, we were not going to get a martini anywhere in Barcelona. Vodka and ice in a glass was as close as it was gonna get so fine...we can deal. Besides, everything was back open tomorrow and the whole city was ours to discover.

g.

Eating the Apple

Been looking forward to this for a while. K is heading back to school in a few weeks and so we decided to head to NY to visit her grandparents out on Long Island and to do some shopping in the Big Apple. After all, a gal’s gotta look good when she shows up at school. We started with the shopping.

Friday was shopping day for K. First stop? Lounge on Broadway in SOHO, her favorite store in NY. The stuff there is pricey but also has the cachet of being unique. When she shows up at Cal Poly she can be reasonably sure she’ll be the only one around with the jeans she bought there. I chatted with the woman’s buyer for the store - young, attractive and friendly. Lounge carries men’s and women’s clothing plus a great collection of house music CDs with a live DJ at the front of the store. They carry a huge inventory but seem to go through it quickly. A stack on jeans on Friday was completely gone by Saturday. After picking up a pair of Robin's Jean jeans, K and I kicked around SOHO then headed downtown to Century 21. For those who’ve never shopped there, C21 can be quite an overwhelming experience the first time. The place is filled with bargains galore and with the type of bargain-shoppers that define the aggressive, savvy, New York shopper. You can buy haute couture for 70% (or more) off the original retail. Before going in we stopped across the street at Steve’s Pizza for a couple of slices of the world’s best pizza. Fortified by our pizza bliss we walked over and headed into mayhem. While there, I picked up a beautiful Giorgio Armani suede sports jacket, which originally sold for $1599 for $99. This is a bit better than the typical price reduction but you can find phenomenal deals there. I also grabbed a Jean-Paul Gaultier sweater for a third of the original price. Like I said, great deals.

As evening drew closer we headed over to MOMA to check out the Dada exhibit currently showing. This is the first time this show has run in the US and we were excited to check it out. (We’re both big Jean Arp fans. I have a lithograph of his hanging in my bedroom.) As we got closer we noticed a huge crowd queueing up along the side of the building. As it turns out, Friday night is Target night…free entrance to MOMA sponsored by Target. The crowd engulfed the museum and we decided to not try to fight the craziness and passed. Too bad. We wandered uptown a bit then headed back to freshen up for dinner. I grabbed a martini at the Cafe Nicole in the Novotel on 8th Avenue before heading off.

Tonight, dinner was at BLT Fish (Bistro Laurent Tourondel) on West 17th Street. We had no reservations but called and lucked out - a table at 10:00. Got there early and they took us. We had a really good meal. I started with the Manhattan clam chowder and K had the Lobster Bisque. The table was served their signature cheddar-chive biscuits with sea-salted butter and a touch of maple syrup. I would have been happy with just that for dinner. For entrees I ordered the Yellowfin tuna served with rice and shaved fennel salad (seeing a lot of fennel in restaurants just now) and K ordered the salmon, also with rice and salad. We ordered a side of the onion strings and I had a glass of the pinot noir. We shared a mud pie for dessert. The food is just the best ingredients served in the least fussy manner possible perfectly prepared. My rare tuna was served perfectly rare.

Saturday morning we had a post-workout brunch at Balthazar on Spring Street down in SOHO. First time I’ve had brunch there. K had the Hazelnut, sour cream waffles with fresh berries and I had the brioche French toast with bacon. Damn, the bacon tasted like bacon for the first time in a long time. Naturally we did a final turn at Lounge and found a second pair of jeans. Picked up some truffles from Vosges on Spring Street as a gift for my folks (and got a box of the Gaudi collection for us) and we headed off to the train for the wilds of Long Island and my sister’s “Patriotic Party”. Hmmmm.

g.

Tony Rocky Horror

foodwinesex. The list grows yet shorter but last night offered a new twist.

This past week I was busy slimming down the SF-specific part of the list of 100. Wednesday night BK and I visited Clementine. The less said the better. I'll just sum it up by saying the hostess was young and very pretty, the bordeaux by the glass was nearly undrinkable, the soup (a cream-based onion soup) was grainy and remarkably free of any flavor resembling onion and the halibut (yes, again) was remarkable in how unremarkable it was. I won't be returning. BK had the same opinion...one and done.

Different story Thursday night. K and I decided that we needed a pizza and there was a pizza place on the list. Having been brought up on pizza in NY, I resented not being able to get a decent slice west of the Hudson. This resentment shows itself as pizza fucking snobbery. There is nothing like a slice at Steve's on Trinity Place in downtown Manhattan. Needless to say, my daughter has genetically inherited my attitude and she carries it to a new level. Despite all that, I have a list to finish and Pauline's Pizza is on it. We stood and then sat in line for thirty minutes. This place was packed and given the mutual familiarity of the patrons, everybody here comes back regularly. We eventually got our table and we were famished. Menus came quickly and we ordered. So here's the deal. Since this isn't NY, this isn't NY pizza. By definition, pizza is only really pizza in NY so I felt free to order toppings that would have my manhood challenged in any pizzeria in NY. Get it? This isn't really pizza. A technicality I'll grant you, but a good one. We ordered a large pizza with split toppings. Since K is a vegetarian she couldn't hang with the tasso I ordered on my half. She ordered cilantro on her half. We added goat cheese to the entire pie. The verdict? One of the best pies west of the Hudson. Now I'll grant you...damned with faint praise but I really did enjoy the pizza. The crust was good...very thin and crisp. Not unlike John's of Bleeker Street in the Village. We couldn't finish the large but we were both full and happy two thumbs up. We will go back to Pauline's.

Friday night and dinner with ChP. We walked over to Bistro Aix for out 9 PM reservation. The place was more like a neighborhood place with an upscale attitude. I mean that in the best way. We had a table by the window and watched the crowds walk by. The service was good but coming at 9 on a Friday evening meant they were out of a few items. No problem...there was plenty on the menu that looked good. For an appetizer I went with the Baby Beet Salad with Baby Spinach, Goat Cheese & Orange Vinaigrette. ChP went with Butter Lettuce Salad with Fresh Herbs & Dijon Mustard Vinaigrette. Naturally my initial reaction was to compare it to the fabulous baked goat cheese at Nopa. This was good but couldn't touch the version at Nopa. Any comparison wouldn't be fair. Let's just say it was fine and I'd order it again. For dinner I went with Crispy Roasted Chicken Breast with Baby Red Potatoes, Haricots Verts & Jus. ChP ordered the Grilled Rare Ahi Tuna with Wild Mushroom/Red Wine Sauce, Garlic Mashed Potatoes & Fried Baby Spinach. The chicken was cooked perfectly. Very hot and moist. The beans were fresh and snapped. It was all nicely done. This is not terribly sophisticated cuisine but rather solid food...fresh ingredients cooked perfectly. Very enjoyable. Even more enjoyable was the walk back to her place and the evening ahead. We hadn't seen each other in six days and had some catching up to do. It was cold outside but her bed was very warm and inviting. We had a glass of cabernet franc and enjoyed each other's company.

Speaking of Nopa, this was the first Friday in two months that I missed stopping in to eat or drink. I made up for it by stopping in for a martini Saturday evening. The host greeted me heartliy and instantly asked where I'd been the previous night. He said we'd just call it "the weekend streak" and keep it alive. Similarly I went back to pay respects to Lawrence Jossel, the chef. He immediately asked where I'd been Friday night. Apologies and making up for it. He wants a full report on El Bulli when I get back. Leaving Nopa I headed over to ChP's...park the car, gather her and walk over to the next place on the list - Isa. As I mentioned earlier, there was a twist...we were double dating with BK and CH.

I'd been looking forward to introducing the group and we'd all heard or known so much about one another it was high time we got to eat together. Isa turned out to be a great place to make it happen. The girls looked great. CH was ebullient as she nearly always is. ChP, being a bit of the new gal in the group, was a bit reserved but opened up as the evening progressed. BK was himself and conversation was easy and fun. CH had sent me an SMS the night before saying, "UR losing your ass! xo CH." Having no fucking idea what that meant she went on to explain that she meant it literally. She thought I was getting too thin and losing my ass. Now...I've always thought of my ass as one of my best features so I was shocked. The laughter around the table assuaged the pain and I made a mental note to pay more attention to my ass in the mirror. Damn. Back to dinner. Our waitress suggested 2 or 3 small plates per person. This insured a lot of sharing and plate passing. We ordered: Spicy Tuna Tartar with lemon, crushed avocados, pear & pinenuts, Dungeness Crab Salad with celery, mango & fuji apple, Baked Laura Chenel Goat Cheese with pesto, tomato & pinenuts, Seared Dayboat Scallops with baby artichokes, tomatoes, olives & basil, Potato Wrapped Seabass with brown butter, capers, lemon & parsley, Roasted Rack of Lamb with zucchini, red pepper & natural jus, Truffled Risotto with sautéed mushrooms & reggiano, and A Medley of Sautéed Vegetables. There may have been other dishes as well but they were likely lost in the mass of plates. We washed it all down with a lovely bottle of 2002 Montrachet Morgeot 1er Cru, Morey Coffinet. Every dish (and the wine) was a winner. I think the Sea Bass was my favorite of the evening. Wow. I unreservedly recommend this place for a great fun dinner with great service. One of the best restaurants of the year in my opinion.

Over three hours later we finished dinner and wine and headed out. I'd love to double with those guys again. What a fun couple. Isa was just a few doors down from Bistro Aix so we repeated our walk of Friday. We headed inside to get warm and get comfortable. ChP got a foot rub. (She'd worn open toe shoes and her feet were chilly.) I got a nice back massage and a comment on the scratches on my back from the previous evening. We got physical and then relaxed in her big warm bed. A great way to cap the week...especially since I have a lot of traveling coming up over the next few weeks and these moments will be few and far between.

g.

Home again, naturally

New place last night...not on the list though. I was flying solo and had some time to kill before my daughter arrived back from her European jaunt. I headed to SOMA and wound up on 4th Street. I had a vague notion I'd pick up some groceries from Whole Foods but decided to check out Zuppa for dinner.

I'd driven past the place plenty of times and often wondered why somebody would open a soup restaurant (Zuppa is Italian for soup...reminded me instantly of the Seinfeld episodes with the Soup Nazi). Well...I decided to check it out and was quite pleasantly surprised. The interior was well lit through a wall of windows and had a simultaneously contemporary and rustic interior with plenty of concrete and stone. Counters (where I sat) lined the front of the kitchen area. I settled in at my seat and was immediately presented with the menu. Both having good, fast service and being pretty hungry I ordered quickly. For an opener I ordered the Insalata Croccante (Romaine and shaved fennel with a lemon vinagrette and thinly sliced watermelon radishes).For my entrée I went with the Rombo all' Acqua Pazza (Pan seared halibut in crazy water). I flirted with the waitress, "I'm all over any dish with crazy water." More halibut...they gotta be running. I went with a nice red...Nebbiolo, "Bricco Manzoni", Rocche dei Manzoni, 1998, by the glass. (A note - The chef, Joseph Manzare, was a James Beard award nominee and had spent time at Spago, Postrio, San Domenico and Granita.)

The salad was lovely. The shaved fennel, something I don't see too often in salads, was very light in flavor and offered a nice crunch. Similarly the watermelon radish slices were mild as well. The vinagrette was well balanced and kept the salad alive. Stronger radish or fennel would have resulted in a cacaphony of flavor. The halibut was terrific as well. Mild while still flavorful and as I said, any dish with crazy water wins with me. Dinner went quickly. I was in and out and over to Whole Foods to pick up some groceries for my vegetarian daughter.

K was coming home after nearly a month in Europe. She and her school friend Stephanie (two 17 year-old girls hitting the continent with backpacks and ATM cards) were on a summer adventure through Spain and Portugal. I'd heard small bits of stories via the scarce emails I'd received. To actually know if they were still alive I couldn't rely on occasional email so I went to a more reliable source...the ATM trail through my on-line bank records. Ahh...Tuesday in Sevilla, Friday in Cordoba, etc. Her flight arrived 20 minutes early and her luggage (she had checked her backpack) was early out of the gate. We hit the highway and were home in ten minutes. There, I was regaled with stories better heard after the trip...sleeping on the street outside the bus station one night, one hostel infested with bugs, the sangria, the cutest boys in Madrid, and so on. The kind of stuff that adds up to an unforgettable summer adventure. After 200 or so pictures I was just glad to have her home for the last few weeks before college starts. One final quick trip to NYC later this month and then I deliver her to school. Last night I slept the way a parent sleeps when they know their kid is safe at home. A deep sleep.

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