food, and other musings

Call me a convert

A good friend of mine has fallen in love with Scott Howard in recent months. Last night we popped by for dinner, and all I can say is I've got a wig, some pepper spray, and a bag of adult diapers in the trunk of my car, so bring. it. on.

Last night is one of those nights where the service is what prompted me to gush. (The food is gush-worthy, it's just that I eat a lot of good food and I don't write about every bite.) We arrived 30 minutes early with plans to have a drink at the bar. The host slyly let us know whom he'd be seating next so we could hover in the appropriate area and guarantee ourselves a seat. Nice. Then, shortly after ordering my Maker's Mark and ginger, the ginger ale gun went out and I had to wait a few minutes for the bartender to replace it. For sitting patiently all of five extra minutes, he comped both our drinks. And then poured some extra wine for Jeff. I sat there like a wide-mouthed frog for a few seconds before mustering a very sincere thank you. It was so totally unnecessary, except that now I want to scream "I LOVE SCOTT HOWARD" from the rooftops. (Don't be offended, Gary, my voice carries and I can't help it if we live near your restaurant.)

Not long after, the host came by to let us know that it was past 9 and though our table wasn't ready yet, it would be soon. I asked if we could get a bread basket, just something to nibble on, and he said, "I'll see what we can send over." Before long we were sipping the chef's famous carrot broth with chervil sabayon. Just the thing for a cold foggy night -- can a soup taste more like carrots than just plain carrots do? -- and another totally unnecessary, but totally appreciated gift from the kitchen.

When we finally sat down -- 10 minutes late? 20? I don't even know because the inconvenience vanished under the veil of good service -- the parade of goodness began in earnest. The menu is new and improved, a lot shorter and a lot less fancy than it used to be. We dove into the tuna tartare with avocado, chorizo, and espelette pepper. It is on par with Aqua's Moroccan-spiced version, which I think is some of the best tartare in the city. (Bonus points for the theatricality of mixing it tableside.) Next we devoured a tiny roasted quail, then went head to head against moist bacon-wrapped monkfish and rosy-red venison. Dessert was an ungodly buttery brioche French toast (but where the heck did the strawberries come from in November? tsk tsk) and butterscotch pudding, which made me feel six again (even if they do use artificially-flavored butterscotch chips).

Slobbery kisses to you, Scott Howard.

Scott Howard ~ 500 Jackson Street ~ 415.956.7040 ~ scotthowardsf.com

Go Fish

On Tuesday night we were asked to wait 45 minutes past our reservation for dinner, then we waited another 20 minutes for a glass of wine -- which I requested twice before Jeff got up to fetch it himself from the bar -- and yet I am still going to rave utterly and absolutely about Fish & Farm. What gives?

I must begin with the hand-smashed red potatoes with fresh herbs and sour cream. Oh, the things I could do if I had a 10-pound bucket of those potatoes at my desk right now.

1. I could eat them all up, all by myself. For breakfast.

2. I could pour them in the pool of the hotel where I'm staying this weekend and dive in, rubbing their creme fraiche, heavy cream, and buttery sauce into my flesh.

3. I could put them on a small table with votive candles and a statue of the Buddha and kneel in front of them each morning and afternoon.

4. I could mail a small taste of them to each of the world's warlords, dictators, and despots. World peace would ensue.

5. I could give them to my boss in exchange for a $1,000,000 bonus. She'd clearly be getting the better end of the bargain, but hey, I'm a reasonable gal.

Yes, people, they were that good. In fact, every bite we ate was worth crowing over. Thick, meaty butter beans and sauteed greens with breadcrumbs and fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano. Grilled Monterey Bay calamari doused in lip-smacking harissa. Corvina, a buttery white fish from off the coast, with a sweetbread raviole (is that the singular form?).

The focus here is on "New American" local eats. There are limitations -- obviously Parmigiano-Reggiano can't be got here without importing it from far across the pond -- but the fish is primarily California (or West Coast) and the vegetables and dairy are sourced from within a strict 100-mile radius. The booze is all organic, including the bourbon they pour into their Fish & Farm Julep. A nice touch, n'est-ce pas? On our visit, I noticed boar ribs on the menu, and that looked interesting. Slavs might take to the housecured fish platter.

The down-home atmosphere was cozy but chic, perfect for this unseasonably cold weather we're having (I kid, I kid -- the nippy weather suits.) Bright blue walls with dark brown bamboo floors, and 20-ish tables, all put together under the genius eye of Swallowtail's Sheri Sheridan. I loved it.

After dinner I had the chance to chat with one of the owners, John, who listened to our service complaints and explained that they were short-staffed and were doing their best. He acknowledged that there were ways they could have improved our experience (the long wait, etc.). They haven't been open even a month, so I think it's fair to give them a pass on that one. If they can smooth out the kinks in service, I think this is one place where you'll soon be lucky to find an empty seat.

Fish & Farm * 339 Taylor Street * San Francisco * 415.474.FISH * fishandfarmsf.com

Mexico DF

Craving margaritas and tacos? Perhaps Mexico DF is the place to go. Check out my write-up over at KQED's Bay Area Bites.

conundrum

What to do, what to do? Last night I went to dinner with friends at a new restaurant. Between the four of us, we must have eaten nine dishes off the menu, plus an amuse bouche. I went prepared, with my camera and my notebook, and made sure to taste a bit of everything we ordered. At the end off the meal, what was my verdict? (Our collective verdict, I might add.)

Eh.

It wasn't terrible by any stretch, and certainly some of the dishes were very very good, but overall it was pretty average and I wouldn't go back.

So now what do I do? There has been so much press over the years about the ethics of food blogging. "Food bloggers are capricious fools who trash restaurants without so much as a backward glance!" whinny some. "Hey, it's just my two cents, why can't I share it?!" counter others.

Funny, I don't have a problem writing up a place I liked after only one visit, so why should I hesitate if I didn't like it? This place has received zero press to date that I've seen (in terms of reviews, though certainly the opening was covered). Truthfully, I'd prefer to go back before I write them off (literally) -- except that I really don't want to eat there again, and I haven't got anyone to pay for my meal like the big critics do.

So I'm leaving it up to you, dear readers. Is it fair for me to write up what I think -- or not?

Does Spruce Make the Bay Area's Best Burger?

The newly opened Spruce is burger-ific. Read all about it at KQED's Bay Area Bites.

Giving Bi-Rite Creamery a run for its money

Last night I enjoyed one of the best ice creams I have ever had. It was a Thai peanut ice cream from Eos, that small plates place in Cole Valley. It was dense and creamy, with undertones of spiciness, like peanut butter ice cream on speed. It killed Eos' salted caramel, and their roasted banana as well (though both were excellent). Pints are for sale for $7, with flavors changing daily. The chocolate with candied ginger sounded good too, but there is only so much room in one woman's belly.

my newest love...

...is the chicken and caramel sauce in a clay pot at Aux Delices. Who knew you could eat freaking caramel sauce for dinner?! It's the ga kho, with chunks of sauteed chicken bathed in a thin, savory caramel broth. With a glass of Viognier, nothing soothes the week night soul better.

give up?

Slanted Door.

!!!

I never had a chance.

Luh-Luh-Luh-Laiola

Want to read more about the Marina's newest Spanish-inspired restaurant? Head over to KQED's Bay Area Bites.

Nua (in full)

I adore Nua so much I've been three times, and I'm holding my birthday party there. Read all about it, dish by delicious dish, over at KQED's Bay Area Bites.