tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41221168606521100722024-02-19T08:58:14.614-08:00EAST BAY FOOD SCENEEssays on the Ritual of DiningThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-91633856493243181122013-03-16T11:44:00.002-07:002013-03-16T11:44:43.926-07:00For current posts see WWW.EASTBAYFOODSCENE.COM - this site is no longer being updated.The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-31901566839685689302012-11-25T13:40:00.001-08:002012-11-25T13:42:44.633-08:00RICH TABLE (SF) - Follow the Yellow Brick Bridge<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8qSAHUMvV74/ULKD-S7YqaI/AAAAAAAADSk/j34mohYlJS0/s1600/sm.chicken.lasagna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8qSAHUMvV74/ULKD-S7YqaI/AAAAAAAADSk/j34mohYlJS0/s320/sm.chicken.lasagna.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicken Lasagna & Popcorn?<br />
Hell Yes.</td></tr>
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<br />
I have lived across the Bay from San Francisco my entire life. As a child, a visit to “the City” was a magical trip to the faraway land of Oz at the end of a winding road of yellow brick. It was a place outside of reality that lay well beyond the boundaries of my childish imagination. I remember my Great Aunt Susan taking me there for extra-special excursions. The day to end all days, we would put on a fancy dress, don our best hats and gloves, and board the bus that would take us across the bridge. Once there, in this place where magic was possible, we would ride the trolley car to the City of Paris with its sparkling crystal dome, to spend the day shopping; or perhaps during the holidays there would be a visit to Santa for photos. For years, San Francisco was as far as I ever traveled away from home and it felt a journey to the Moon itself. Looking forward to a trip to the city was the most exciting thing in the world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_5Yr1YJviw/ULKD4lhmiXI/AAAAAAAADSI/ba7sG9tXnzQ/s1600/sm.app.squash.fritters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_5Yr1YJviw/ULKD4lhmiXI/AAAAAAAADSI/ba7sG9tXnzQ/s320/sm.app.squash.fritters.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fried Squash Balls with pumpkin seeds</td></tr>
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To my Italian grandparents, North Beach was a second home. My grandfather was the reigning bocce ball champion for several years running. They knew everyone in the City. I remember the dinner shows at Bimbos 365, a place where they mingled with luminaries like Rocky Marciano and Earl Warren, while I tried to figure out how they got that tiny naked lady into the magical fishbowl.<br />
<br />
Much of that youthful fascination still lingers when I find myself in this City by the Bay, and she remains a place outside the boundaries of the familiar, having never lost her alluring sense of adventure. As I traverse her often foggy confines, wandering beneath the landscape of towering buildings that scrape the sky, I feel as though I have been transported to Wonderland. There is even a hint of danger — perhaps I will soon be snatched away by the Red Queen and forced to play games for my life. The otherworldliness that bewitched me as a child is a lingering thread of connection that compels me back as often as I can manage. Though vastly changed in architecture and culture, she is now, as she was in my childhood, a large part of the East Bay experience.<br />
<br />
THE RESTAURANT<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgkz9gO5_addtprWwa-SUzSByrYKuMGVOXGwV7PMDZvci9ofuzOflIbzmsB0uTViPYEZw2VkkJSeYnWlQTAv9ezjM6iMb-mnHVWOcMPWXib2hZ82vAeLP4Mclg2uSxESrIH6R2lfImNE_/s1600/sm.kobe.tartare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgkz9gO5_addtprWwa-SUzSByrYKuMGVOXGwV7PMDZvci9ofuzOflIbzmsB0uTViPYEZw2VkkJSeYnWlQTAv9ezjM6iMb-mnHVWOcMPWXib2hZ82vAeLP4Mclg2uSxESrIH6R2lfImNE_/s320/sm.kobe.tartare.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wagyu Tartare</td></tr>
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When the reviews began to come in on RICH TABLE, the delightfully inviting new effort from Evan & Sarah Rich, located at the corner of Gough and Oak, I made our reservations immediately. RICH TABLE is one of those places that is difficult to describe, its decor all at once comforting, inventive, and classy, but without a hint of pretension. It’s community seating is European in atmosphere and yet somehow completely embodying the feel of the current San Francisco, with lovely planters provided to “divide” the seated parties into a slightly more private community feel. Brilliant.<br />
<br />
RICH TABLE is laid out in such a way as to be incredibly inviting for such a small space. Diners arrive to feel immediately embraced within its walls. Elbowing through crowds is not something I relish when I want to enjoy a meal, so kudos to management for understanding this and setting it up so smoothly. Quite an accomplishment.<br />
<br />
THE MEAL<br />
<br />
We lucked out in our seating assignment, being placed directly adjacent to the kitchen. I’m always a fan of watching them do their magic and this group was particularly lively and obviously enjoying what they do. After a few moments chatting with the expediter, I was informed he was Evan Rich, chef, (co)owner and proprietor of this lovely new addition to the SF dining scene. He is a delightful young man who absolutely gets it. His food was spot on and his attitude for feeding people is undoubtedly the reason. Well, that, along with his significant talent for inventive cuisine.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XrgoEHn58io/ULKEJKxi-6I/AAAAAAAADTg/HgZAO4AlwG4/s1600/sm.sardine.chips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XrgoEHn58io/ULKEJKxi-6I/AAAAAAAADTg/HgZAO4AlwG4/s320/sm.sardine.chips.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sardine (stuffed) Chips</td></tr>
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The menu here is seasonal, so you may find that the dishes I have listed here will be off the menu by the time you read this. The good news is that whatever Evan & Sarah have invented in the meantime is likely to be just as tasty, if not more so. When a restaurant starts out this well, the possibilities are endless.<br />
<br />
We began with cocktails, all of which were delicious. Mine was a concoction of mezcal, my favorite new alcoholic beverage. The modern cocktail, with it’s tinctures of fresh produce, essences of fruit and the occasional spice, is a journey all its own— and their cocktails rival the the standards of the best in the business. Scott Beattie could order a drink here and come away pleased. They were just that good.<br />
<br />
The appetizers and “bites” were intriguing, so we ordered several. The Fried Squash Balls had a nice topping of crunchy (I believe) daikon and a smattering of pumpkin seeds, and the Wagyu Tartare was magnificent. Beautiful fatty meat seasoned to perfection. The “Sardine Chips” are house made potato chips literally stuffed with a sardine. They were the crispiest house chips I have ever had. Still warm and not at all soft. I love house chips, but often miss the crunch that a mass prepped chip generally has and have found house made chips a little soft for my tastes. Not true here, as these chips had the freshness without sacrificing the appropriate toothsome bite, add the salty goodness in the middle and one has a really inviting “bite.” Kudos.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c8lUOtfbbqU/ULKEEBTMkAI/AAAAAAAADTA/AbmJKVpAcf0/s1600/sm.flatbread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c8lUOtfbbqU/ULKEEBTMkAI/AAAAAAAADTA/AbmJKVpAcf0/s320/sm.flatbread.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flatbread with perfect poached eggs....</td></tr>
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Another favorite at the table was the chicken lasagna. How Chefs Rich thought to add popcorn to the dish remains a mystery, but the crunchy puffed corn topping gave it a texture and interest that was both unique and magnificently satisfying. The waiter recommended we try the spicy pasta dish, (I believe it was a tagliatelle) and it was perfectly al dente and completely engaging. I devoured mine. My daughter loved her ribeye steak as well, and the bottle of Barbera from the solid wine list was a perfect compliment to everything.<br />
<br />
THE TAKE AWAY<br />
<br />
RICH TABLE is one of those hot places you have to visit. But it is more than that. It was instantly one of those places I must return to, and often. Dining is about more than just good food, and while Chefs Evan & Sarah Rich serve blissful fare, they also know how to invite you to their table in such a way that you want to return. Like dinner at a favorite relative’s house, a meal there is something to be anticipate, enjoyed, and then, once digested, experienced again and again.<br />
<br />
Brava.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26hezx0in9mpuq0MCTaIObB9bXzsudy5WBccZtdUgCambg9zYTbHZVjRwPNfjXis0fb0mJbUWzScYmYPLji1dbcko_rDWvohFAjvkY2-A3kxhpoChZ30wdebwYzyWeCITVej31lDE43_C/s1600/sm.chocolatey.goodness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26hezx0in9mpuq0MCTaIObB9bXzsudy5WBccZtdUgCambg9zYTbHZVjRwPNfjXis0fb0mJbUWzScYmYPLji1dbcko_rDWvohFAjvkY2-A3kxhpoChZ30wdebwYzyWeCITVej31lDE43_C/s320/sm.chocolatey.goodness.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate Magic (dessert is a must here)</td></tr>
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Check it out for yourself, and make a memory. I can guarantee it will be a pleasant one.<br />
<br />
RICH TABLE<br />
Chef Evan Rich<br />
Chef Sara Rich<br />
199 Gough St (at Oak St)<br />
San Francisco, CA 94102<br />
Phone: (415) 355-9085<br />
www.richtablesf.comThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-54276423356750237912012-11-05T18:29:00.000-08:002012-11-05T18:32:12.403-08:00MCDONALDS CHARITY CHALLENGE: “Fast Food” to Fine Dining<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoIDKSr0Smf1vVtZeu3cujd9BNNniyhjfcmK_JOlZl9VCKOZ6nfOk7QvHtTZMYM0zxWOGkxUQRjiLXhTVedFvjGT4zfa4yJnpGeJ0rs81g1-evS4gsYb7bsDQiwUSzJT56A239hThiHHG/s1600/sm.Egg.Salad.DSC01572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoIDKSr0Smf1vVtZeu3cujd9BNNniyhjfcmK_JOlZl9VCKOZ6nfOk7QvHtTZMYM0zxWOGkxUQRjiLXhTVedFvjGT4zfa4yJnpGeJ0rs81g1-evS4gsYb7bsDQiwUSzJT56A239hThiHHG/s320/sm.Egg.Salad.DSC01572.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Egg Salad<br />
Chef Ryan Scott</td></tr>
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<br />
THE EVENT<br />
<br />
Recently McDonald’s Corporation held a charity event to benefit Ronald McDonald House. If you are unfamiliar with RMHC, its goal is to provide lodging for the families of sick or terminally ill children, in close proximity to the hospitals housing and caring for their kids. RMHC provides a safe and “home like” environment for the families facing these challenges to recharge. It is indisputably a great cause. <br />
<br />
Held at the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco, the premise of the evening was fairly simple. Using only the ingredients to be found in the kitchen of any standard McDonald’s franchise throughout the country, the Chefs would be asked to turn the ingredients into haute cuisine. There was a bit of leeway with spices and greens, but not much. They were supposed to turn a Big Mac into a fine dining experience.<br />
<br />
I know what you’re thinking. It’s impossible. I was initially skeptical, but when I heard that serious Chefs were participating in the event, I decided to attend and try to keep an open mind. We’ve been bombarded with the message that fast and inexpensive equals bad for us, and to some extent that seems to be true. Or is it?<br />
<br />
THE PARTICIPANTS<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EO0H0FrllkY/UJhzIXQ37fI/AAAAAAAADQY/nKHkcEAKL0o/s1600/sm.Ryan.Scott.DSC01532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EO0H0FrllkY/UJhzIXQ37fI/AAAAAAAADQY/nKHkcEAKL0o/s320/sm.Ryan.Scott.DSC01532.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chef Scott talks food</td></tr>
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McDonald’s brought in three heavy hitter chefs with varying culinary points of view. Ryan Scott, Executive Chef of san Francisco’s Market & Rye and former Top Chef contestant, Beverlie Terra, of Chaminade Restaurant and Spa in Santa Cruz and Sophina Uong, Executive Chef of Pican Restaurant in Oakland. These chefs know their food and they were certainly up for the challenge.<br />
<br />
When asked for their culinary Point of View:<br />
<br />
Chef Scott: “Don’t think too hard. Don’t over manipulate an ingredient. Fennel is fennel.” <br />
<br />
Chef Terra: “My point of view has matured! My passion now is not only preparation of food and menus, but using local ingredients to inspire and teach.”<br />
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Chef Uong: “We eat with our eyes. I like to add some color to the plate to keep it interesting.”<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1097yKwomvaXgz6ofPoyxGRCPjZ474GtsfZHftMRJXu_xkxsGWfNP1cG4q6oCp4uq2rgQPAPyKGLh4gXuO9Zo2lHG0eIykR1esWTgVN_XFZba4oNVPb9ebH5ZwMX0RNXM3yy9AyMjdPtF/s1600/sm.fish.filet.DSC01584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1097yKwomvaXgz6ofPoyxGRCPjZ474GtsfZHftMRJXu_xkxsGWfNP1cG4q6oCp4uq2rgQPAPyKGLh4gXuO9Zo2lHG0eIykR1esWTgVN_XFZba4oNVPb9ebH5ZwMX0RNXM3yy9AyMjdPtF/s320/sm.fish.filet.DSC01584.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gullah Fish Filet<br />
Chef Sophina Uong</td></tr>
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So they came together to make magic and to raise money for this magnificent charity. McDonald’s had skin in the game — to change a few minds when it comes to their ingredients. Battle on.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
THE MEAL<br />
<br />
Each chef prepared an appetizer, a main course, and a dessert, making for a nine-course meal. Our first course featured several intriguing interpretations of the challenge ingredients, including a beautifully seasoned broth in which sat a savory parmesan “puddin”, a hearty tomato soup with a tiny grilled cheese sandwich on the side, and an exquisite soft poached egg over blueberries, buttered croutons that was gently dressed in a warm bacon vinaigrette. Each one was unique and all were quite elaborately created. The idea that we were eating “McDonald’s” seemed implausible when looking at the food being served.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqob75Diq2cPN8idRl-f6V2_pvuDnAN53Gyv42HQu5kev3J7tl1pS0p7DKSi2hem2nXePCIM2raVvtMK-Jzb7hqMHmy-RBSy55soVYpZfeBIWIq7OzVHcH2NGuCHGdg3ltZ4JM3ak7ZKRG/s1600/sm.beef.DSC01579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqob75Diq2cPN8idRl-f6V2_pvuDnAN53Gyv42HQu5kev3J7tl1pS0p7DKSi2hem2nXePCIM2raVvtMK-Jzb7hqMHmy-RBSy55soVYpZfeBIWIq7OzVHcH2NGuCHGdg3ltZ4JM3ak7ZKRG/s320/sm.beef.DSC01579.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mickey D's Sugo with Gnocchi<br />
Chef Ryan Scott</td></tr>
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Of the main courses, our table seemed to feel that the Gullah fish fillet from Chef Uong was the most successfully “elevated,” though everyone seemed to enjoy every dish quite a bit. Chef Uong had cleverly removed all the original breading and re-purposed the fillet itself into a delicate slab of light, flaky meat, garnished with a fricasse of fresh mushrooms, and treated it with a delicate sauce of poblano pepper jelly. But Chef Scott’s fantastic braised sugo and gnocchi was spicy & flavorful, and the miniature meatloaf wrapped in bacon from Chef Terra was likewise delicious. <br />
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The desserts were varied, and all were a hit. Chef Scott provided lovely beignets and a coffee “soda” dipping sauce, Chef Terra gave us a take on an apple tart slathered in caramel, and Chef Uong made her version of a chocolate hazelnut chess pie, which was topped with meringue. To be completely accurate, I believe there were pastry chefs working alongside the participant chefs, but I do not have their names so cannot iterate them here.<br />
<br />
THE TAKE-AWAY<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yvZvLm7_vfU/UJhzR4SFG4I/AAAAAAAADRI/D2skfBFROnk/s1600/sm.bacon.DSC01582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yvZvLm7_vfU/UJhzR4SFG4I/AAAAAAAADRI/D2skfBFROnk/s320/sm.bacon.DSC01582.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bacon Wrapped Meat Loaf<br />
Chef Beverlie Terra</td></tr>
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When I was first approached to attend this event, my initial response was fairly cynical. I have to be honest: I was reluctant to attend. But when I heard who the participants were and that it would benefit RMHC, I was convinced I should go and try to keep an open mind. By the time I left, I was, if not a complete convert, significantly convinced that the foodstuffs that McDonald’s serves to its consumer begin as wholesome, fresh, and nutritious ingredients. Are their french fries highly caloric? Absolutely. But are they any worse for the consumer than the cheesy fries I get off my favorite food truck? I doubt it.<br />
<br />
The fact is that too much of any of these things is not good for us. But they are delicious. If I’m honest, although I dine often in some of the best restaurants this country has to offer, I can’t call much of what I eat there ‘healthy” either. (Again, I plead “delicious.”) Proper food intake has always been about balancing intake with the dreaded exercise. Aside from the caloric offset of regular activity, if you aren’t getting enough exercise, your body is turning to shit. It’s just a fact. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GVXpFD-NTx0/UJhzLXfNTMI/AAAAAAAADQw/vd9c3_ibc-Q/s1600/sm.apple.tart.DSC01596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GVXpFD-NTx0/UJhzLXfNTMI/AAAAAAAADQw/vd9c3_ibc-Q/s320/sm.apple.tart.DSC01596.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baked Apple Tart<br />
Chef Beverlie Terra</td></tr>
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If we as a nation are truly concerned about a healthy diet, the over-regulation of highly caloric foodstuffs is no more a solution than hiding the Halloween candy after your kids get home from trick-or-treating. It is our job to teach our children to enjoy everything in moderation. Did we really not learn from prohibition? Taking away something most people desire by legislating their personal habits will always fail.<br />
<br />
If we want our children (and our adults) to remain healthy, we should take the energy we put into regulation of foods and put it into ensuring a robust physical education program in every school. We should be sending our kids outside to play rather than chaining them to a computer. Instead, we just point at the big guy with his Big Gulp and scapegoat him by marginalizing his eating habits. There are people who can’t afford the money to shop at Whole Foods nor always the time to prepare a meal. Single mothers with two jobs. Families who are barely eating, never mind eating well. And they need a place to get reasonably priced food.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rRvItL9spsg/UJhzSKxQy6I/AAAAAAAADRM/1Ph3ASobWlg/s1600/sm.donuts.dip.DSC01592.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rRvItL9spsg/UJhzSKxQy6I/AAAAAAAADRM/1Ph3ASobWlg/s320/sm.donuts.dip.DSC01592.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beignets & Coffee Soda<br />
Chef Ryan Scott</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As a final question, I asked each of the Chefs how the average “Jane” could stock her kitchen with healthy food on a budget that might not stretch to include fine dining choices. The answer was universal. Start with the produce. Let the fresh choices there dictate your meal for the evening, and once you’ve procured your seasonal items, head over to the meat counter and you will find your protein demands less, well, demanding. Right now one can find beautiful butternut squash, acorn squash, delacotta squash, pears, apples and pomegranates. Maybe all that’s needed to round out the meal is a pork chop or a chicken breast, instead of that 16 oz Porter House that would have called your name had you been to the butcher before checking out the produce. It can be done. I was raised on pasta, pizza and more pasta. Now my favorite meal is a beet salad and some burrata or goat cheese. Just sayin’.<br />
<br />
So if you do have time to make dinner, take a stroll down the produce aisle first and really check it out. Make a meal that will give you another ten years with your grandchildren, or that will allow them to live fit, productive and longer lives. And if you save a few bucks? Donate it to Ronald McDonald House Charities, so that families whose children have been stricken with illness and facing unimaginable battles can stay by their sides and give them a shot at that same bright future.<br />
<br />
Ronald MdDonald House: http://www.rmhcbayarea.com/help/The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-69657324726762119592012-10-06T23:25:00.001-07:002012-10-28T14:25:02.555-07:00COTOGNA: Strawberry Fields Forever<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWfvGRCe6ixKaI4xIAgsk1mS-zhUANT3COTNQ7-ErTImQzmsSLlNzNHnzDXnKppvZWxMQ2FE2GEFCkaTagK7c82njZ0yBoybMF_JNrp50LtZMiRZv5oKp7JXJzktqeuFx3Lfyhe3k1QBm/s1600/7898784136_b76149880c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWfvGRCe6ixKaI4xIAgsk1mS-zhUANT3COTNQ7-ErTImQzmsSLlNzNHnzDXnKppvZWxMQ2FE2GEFCkaTagK7c82njZ0yBoybMF_JNrp50LtZMiRZv5oKp7JXJzktqeuFx3Lfyhe3k1QBm/s320/7898784136_b76149880c.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberry Specialty Cocktail</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
About three weeks ago while checking my email, I found an invitation to attend an event celebrating the California Strawberry. The event was hosted by the California Strawberry Commission, designed to educate the public about just what it takes to bring these summer delicacies from farm to table. Each course of the meal was to feature strawberries, and the Chef preparing the meal was (Score!) the renowned Michael Tusk of Quince. That was the icing on the cake, but if I’m honest, they had me at strawberries.<br />
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The event was held at Cotogna, Chef Tusk’s most recent entry on the San Francisco dining scene. It presents as a modern Italian Pizzeria-slash-Bistro, and is a beautifully tricked out space, complete with giant wood ovens and a gorgeous bar. Though not quite the pizzeria of my childhood, it manages to maintain the familial inviting atmosphere I recall from days spent watching my uncle toss the stretchy dough, flatten it tenderly, slather it with his special tomato sauce, finishing off the pie by covering it with all manner of toppings to order. Cotugno had the effortless ease down pat, while updating it to a slick and modern interior. This was a place I’d want to hang out even if I hadn’t been mesmerized into attendance by the promise of strawberry delights.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aO9yvB9k9SA/UG-kjSBQgjI/AAAAAAAADO0/7wPQEElRYiY/s1600/7898775748_040bd06188_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aO9yvB9k9SA/UG-kjSBQgjI/AAAAAAAADO0/7wPQEElRYiY/s320/7898775748_040bd06188_z.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberries & Prosciutto</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The FOOD<br />
<br />
Guests were treated to a menu designed by Chef Tusk specifically for the event. Beginning with a specialty cocktail: a mixture of pureed strawberries with a bit of campari, a hint of anise and enough selzer to bubble it up nicely. It was an intoxicating and refreshing beverage. The hors d’oeuvres were a cacophony of strawberry surprises. Among them: tiny arancini of fried strawberry goodness, a perfect fresh strawberry wrapped in a blanket of prosciutto and drizzled with a hint of balsamic.<br />
<br />
But the magnificent strawberry and burrata pizzas that emerged from those wood burning ovens were the pièce de résistance: the creamy burrata melting into each perfect berry, the familiar toothsome crunch of the perfectly baked pizza dough— they were a culinary treat I will remember for some time to come. This was the kind of food that is so tasty you can’t stop consuming it because your brain wants your mouth to experience that thrill just one more time. At least that’s what my brain was telling me as I consumed almost an entire pizza. It seemed that over the course of the evening those ovens continued to produce the delectable treat on tray after tray; they came at me as relentlessly as circus performers exiting a clown car.<br />
<br />
The BERRY<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pi-rYiwwZTQ/UG-khALCEJI/AAAAAAAADOk/O_lAFbh5o2k/s1600/7898773692_967437836c_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pi-rYiwwZTQ/UG-khALCEJI/AAAAAAAADOk/O_lAFbh5o2k/s320/7898773692_967437836c_c.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pizza Magica!<br />
Just EAT it!</td></tr>
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The evening was coordinated for the California Strawberry Commission by Golin Harris, a company whose expertise at putting together a delightful evening while keeping the focus of the gathering front and center is impressive. And that is an understatement. Among those present was Tom Jones (no, not that Tom Jones, but I imagine he hears it quite a bit) of the Tom Jones Farms in Monterey. A strawberry farmer for decades, Mr. Jones told those present a great deal of fun facts about the strawberry. The highlights for the health conscious are that strawberries are surprisingly low in calories (this I knew from my years of Weight Watchers, their Strawberry Shake, which, if memory serves, consists of a cup of strawberries and about two cups of cracked ice and comes in at under 100 calories). They contain enormous amounts of antioxidants, more Vitamin C than an orange and high amounts of folic acid and fiber. <br />
<br />
The EXPERIENCE<br />
<br />
We wrapped up our evening with several delectable desserts during the seated portion of the presentation. Strawberries atop a creamy panacotta, a beautiful pistachio ice cream, with a light strawberry garnish over an airy meringue (like eating strawberry pistachio clouds). By now I was stuffed, yet my table mates and I managed a final slice of the last pizza making its way around the room. That pizza was one for the record books.<br />
<br />
All in all, this was the kind of educational evening I’d love to repeat. A far cry from the sterile classroom of my youth. Perhaps that’s the solution for our schools. Serve up that knowledge with a platter of sweet, simple California strawberries. Too bad they’re only in season from April to October. (Though this is peak strawberry season in California, a reader points out that these days strawberries are harvested and available year-round from growers in Oxnard, Santa Maria and Orange County.)<br />
<br />
Cotogna is a lovely restaurant. While my particular experience isn’t one that can be repeated, I can honestly suggest you check it out for yourself. Make some memories of your own. And do try the pizza.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HUc7-brp5dc/UG-ksN8UThI/AAAAAAAADQA/qSj5P4X9fno/s1600/7898792750_b22b9ff4d1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HUc7-brp5dc/UG-ksN8UThI/AAAAAAAADQA/qSj5P4X9fno/s320/7898792750_b22b9ff4d1.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
Cotogna (Michael Tusk)<br />
490 Pacific Avenue<br />
San Francisco, CA 94133<br />
(415) 775-8508<br />
www.cotognasf.com<br />
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And for more info on the California Strawberry - the California Strawberry Commission’s website can be found here:<br />
<br />
http://www.californiastrawberries.com/<br />
<br />The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-64518998386851669082012-09-30T15:50:00.002-07:002012-09-30T15:51:07.710-07:00FONDA SOLANA FLASHBACK - Cinderella’s Mexican Feast & the Fairytale Ending <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUF-kH0bSMHVDlLg-RmHBo06ubWIDEEjz0uPT874Tcwta5jyDEY2mU_UMK1bAeKL7EgZWp5brKREeHO3FB8RypX9Y-o0NaBrXzgov3upoFlgm2zfBVXyfaB9PQ-WIvsAaFSvwiIbcePYT/s1600/Fonda.Solana.002+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUF-kH0bSMHVDlLg-RmHBo06ubWIDEEjz0uPT874Tcwta5jyDEY2mU_UMK1bAeKL7EgZWp5brKREeHO3FB8RypX9Y-o0NaBrXzgov3upoFlgm2zfBVXyfaB9PQ-WIvsAaFSvwiIbcePYT/s200/Fonda.Solana.002+%25281%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not much left for the photo<br />
of this Tequila laced concoction</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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It’s been almost two years, and I still salivate over the duck tacos. The menu at Fonda Solana in Berkeley is a fascinating blend of elevated latin flavors, all served simply in shared-plates style. They call it Mexican food, but it is so much more than that. <br />
<br />
The occasion of my visit to Fonda (it seems they have all but dropped the Solana) was my daughter’s reunion with both her long-time paramour (now recently acquired husband) and the West Coast. She’d missed the flavors of California and was needing a bit of reminding. Dining out at Fonda Solana was just the ticket. So we made our reservations and six of us headed there for drinks and delights.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fh4CO-J4MS0/UGjKXDXqYNI/AAAAAAAADMg/pvJVRyC1FTw/s1600/Fonda.Solana.002+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fh4CO-J4MS0/UGjKXDXqYNI/AAAAAAAADMg/pvJVRyC1FTw/s320/Fonda.Solana.002+%25283%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posole? Chicken soup?<br />
Whatever they called it, it was delicious</td></tr>
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What she didn’t know, but the rest of us did, was that next month, during her much-anticipated return to California, the boy would ask the girl to marry him. Their story was one of timing, and it was finally right. Patience and commitment had brought this particular fairy-tale full circle.<br />
<br />
But back to the food. We ordered well, and soon found ourselves sated with the magnificent libations offered at this establishment. As the courses came, we ooh-ed and ahhh-ed at the lovely presentations and blissfully developed flavors. At the time I went the restaurant was one of the K-12 group that includes Lalimes and T-Rex (the latter having recently undergone a change in ownership). To date, I have found a delightfully reliable uniformity of excellence in all restaurant establishments bearing the K-12 stamp. Each one was worth a visit, many have seen return trips by this diner on the hunt for a food adventure.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pIdicNu2l4/UGjKvCLViwI/AAAAAAAADM4/Sdl4Azpx7a8/s1600/Fonda.Solana.002+%252810%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pIdicNu2l4/UGjKvCLViwI/AAAAAAAADM4/Sdl4Azpx7a8/s320/Fonda.Solana.002+%252810%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The remarkably decadent<br />
duck taco</td></tr>
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Among my favorites of the menu we sampled included delightful empanadas drizzled in creme fraiche, hot fried cheese sticks full of oozy goodness while being light and airy as a creampuff, and a heavenly duck taco that incorporated pomegranate into the seasoning. The duck taco was a revelation in flavors, but everything else was likewise delicious.<br />
<br />
It was a magnificent way to relaunch my eldest child back into her native state and its myriad cuisines. Mexican is something she felt she could never get in New York City, at least not to her California standards. I can’t imagine NYC doesn’t have any good Mexican food, but on a budget perhaps extremely hard to find. We reconnected over shared secrets and delicious food. These are precious memories, which is I suppose why the surface now, on the almost two month anniversary of her nuptials with the lovely young man in the scene.<br />
<br />
We talk often of food being love, and yes it is. It can conjure love, secure love, bind love and remind us of times when we were loved. It reminds of those who prepared it, the people we shared it with. Our senses are so moved by the aromas, and the tastes can transport us to moments long gone but that will never be forgotten. It is a meme I repeat, because it is like breathing. Food and fond memories. The fabric of life.<br />
<br />
Fonda Solana is a great meal if you like Mexican flavors, but don’t expect platters of heavy beans and rice. The food here is delicate, though the flavors pack a whallop. Pay it a visit and check it out, make a memory of your own.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLYEYzMNGnDz9gusqvL4Yp9o0MycgcpWxEGpBxSQNPzZE2JBo-ViQjOLnSWyeQQKB1HbiaqVVIH_kLOrDGS94HXHNqwWLwwdmDna0-naUBPbnPedvpYgEA4UvmI7CnVyVY0Z-6bIH5CpL/s1600/Fonda.Solana.002+%252814%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLYEYzMNGnDz9gusqvL4Yp9o0MycgcpWxEGpBxSQNPzZE2JBo-ViQjOLnSWyeQQKB1HbiaqVVIH_kLOrDGS94HXHNqwWLwwdmDna0-naUBPbnPedvpYgEA4UvmI7CnVyVY0Z-6bIH5CpL/s320/Fonda.Solana.002+%252814%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mexican "Wedding" cookies anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Fonda Solana<br />
1501 Solano Avenue<br />
Albany, CA<br />
510-559-9006<br />
www.fondasolana.com<br />
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The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-59787128221824464602012-09-24T21:12:00.000-07:002012-09-24T21:21:37.301-07:00LA FOLIE - Countdown to Foie-hibition... <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFYRf1N9zVBml8wn91r8YjZMco9t5-YPTK2yAy39UgiVjAG4yzNrvovwLxLUZVY38NY9Ky_6tVluRG4DTwThbEfwatvwuAze9Skm_bKHP7OljtZjdnf1IcfP6QtDwCw89QFiSr8SLtC7X/s1600/0.amuse.egg.DSC00875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" kea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFYRf1N9zVBml8wn91r8YjZMco9t5-YPTK2yAy39UgiVjAG4yzNrvovwLxLUZVY38NY9Ky_6tVluRG4DTwThbEfwatvwuAze9Skm_bKHP7OljtZjdnf1IcfP6QtDwCw89QFiSr8SLtC7X/s320/0.amuse.egg.DSC00875.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It begins...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When it became increasingly apparent that the forces determined to outlaw the sale of the fantastically decadent "fatted liver of the goose," otherwise known as foie gras, were going to be successful, we made a series of reservations for as many meals as we could afford (and digest) in the months leading up to the fateful date: July 1, 2012. <br />
<br />
The Upside:<br />
<br />
The impending legislation did have some unanticipated benefits. Chefs were up in arms and madly preparing their best versions of this delicacy in countless special menus. There were dishes of seared foie, chilled torchons and country patés. The precious lobes had been grilled, seared, baked, frozen, flaked and liquified. These months we spent eating before the spectre of the long arm of the law and it’s restrictions on commerce, were a whirlwind of foie, in a cornucopia of flavors, textures and presentations.<br />
<br />
The Downside: <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkRp7YwVrKm5rcg0khDBGKha7WYIpqX11X98fBkXrMhiHb_4TChU04VOX8VCnXd0AokNjgkk9mTqWR_eKeeSkmhbZryT_7bHRJjep06RIUvtKKptFuVsYr3ALC2WzV30Sfocm0oxnKY8L/s1600/0.La.Folie.lobster.risotto.DSC00885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" kea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkRp7YwVrKm5rcg0khDBGKha7WYIpqX11X98fBkXrMhiHb_4TChU04VOX8VCnXd0AokNjgkk9mTqWR_eKeeSkmhbZryT_7bHRJjep06RIUvtKKptFuVsYr3ALC2WzV30Sfocm0oxnKY8L/s320/0.La.Folie.lobster.risotto.DSC00885.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foie, truffles, and some other delicacy <br />
(who notices after the foie?)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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Months later, I find myself reminiscing about these meals, missing the spectacular and inventive preparations of this fatty delicacy, and wishing foie were more readily available. It’s hard to say how long the eagerly misinformed will continue to prevail. I know that while they have succeeded in shutting down one major California foie producer, (a small tragedy in this economy), they have not succeeded in turning anyone away from it who is so inclined. Foie will continue to be raised and to be eaten. While it may have to be purchased by the consumer before the Chef can prepare it, or given away by some establishments, it will not disappear. Prohibitions don’t work, they simply force people around the rules. That which comes from imposing one’s will on another without real purpose, always falls away in the end.</div>
<br />
The Meals:<br />
<br />
Of our many excursions (or as one waiter called them Sa-FOIE-ris), the one at which we almost cried uncle was one of the early outings. When one is looking to experience a true French delicacy, one has to head to the French,, and Chef Roland Passot was accommodating. He was more than accommodating, he just about buried us in foie. <br />
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yhu-mIkTupI/UGEqnpZoIFI/AAAAAAAADLs/ZWwin-fjbp0/s1600/0.foie.cherries.DSC00881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" kea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yhu-mIkTupI/UGEqnpZoIFI/AAAAAAAADLs/ZWwin-fjbp0/s320/0.foie.cherries.DSC00881.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The piece de resistance</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We thought we were badasses. We were "ready" for what he had to offer up. The man who was flitting about his kitchen like a whirling dervish in the kitchen had nothing on us. We had appetites for foie that could never be sated. The waitress warned us. We laughed. "Ha ha, we thought, we can eat all the foie you can throw at us." And we began. Appetizers of foie gras. Mains of foie gras. Foie gras specialities. There were only three of us, and the fact was I have never seen such large servings of foie. It was like this man had decided to feed the world, not just our little table of three. We powered through the appetizers, sailed through the first and second courses of foie laden delights, but by the time we hit the giant lobes of seared foie in a sea of tart summer cherries, the best among us were beginning to slow down. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHXcYOLD0nocU7t6iWaI-MDvHfII58r4XvpNI1l9rNGGvSZRsbN32cSTgZ902jNg_j59bkTgSy0e5J-UHExTgLUo9aLaRnkuJSTG_0ERHLWay9tTFhYVRFSx3ItpBO9I31O7Rg2u2JA4Y/s1600/0.sweetbreads.duckegg.DSC00878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" kea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHXcYOLD0nocU7t6iWaI-MDvHfII58r4XvpNI1l9rNGGvSZRsbN32cSTgZ902jNg_j59bkTgSy0e5J-UHExTgLUo9aLaRnkuJSTG_0ERHLWay9tTFhYVRFSx3ItpBO9I31O7Rg2u2JA4Y/s320/0.sweetbreads.duckegg.DSC00878.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foie Sliders</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The plates kept coming, and we kept eating, but it was slow-going toward the end of our meal. We’d been beaten into sleepy comas of bliss, having been served mounds of the most delectable dishes I’ve ever eaten. Forced to admit to our waitress that we’d maybe, just maybe, had eyes a tiny bit bigger than our stomachs. But only a bit. </div>
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The portions were massive compared to other fine dining establishments, but I can’t say we were sorry. Looking back, I’m delighted Chef Passot indulged our cravings so thoroughly. With no immediate foie on my horizon, I can at least, remember that night of bliss.<br />
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Chef Passot skills are legendary for a reason. Check it out for yourself, make a lasting memory of your own.<br />
<br />
La Folie<br />
2316 Polk Street<br />
San Francisco, CA 94109<br />
1-415-776-5577<br />
<a href="http://www.lafolie.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">http://www.lafolie.com</span></u></a><br />
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The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-67360314178956455882012-08-27T21:53:00.000-07:002012-08-28T13:29:33.184-07:00CYRUS - Of all the Restaurants in all the world....<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nF-8rEHY3vw/UDbddzb-KcI/AAAAAAAADEY/DYo9BmyJ0Dk/s1600/0.sm.amuse.28.anniv.Healdsburg+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nF-8rEHY3vw/UDbddzb-KcI/AAAAAAAADEY/DYo9BmyJ0Dk/s320/0.sm.amuse.28.anniv.Healdsburg+020.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Magic Begins...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Ilsa:</b> <i>I wasn't sure you were the same. Let's see, the last time we met... </i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b> <i>Was La Belle Aurore.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Ilsa:</b> <i>How nice, you remembered. But of course, that was the day </i><i>the Germans marched into Paris.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b> <i>Not an easy day to forget.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Ilsa:</b> <i>No.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b> <i>I remember every detail. The Germans wore gray, you wore blue. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">HERE’S THINKING OF YOU KID</span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
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I recently learned that a favorite restaurant of mine, Cyrus, is closing its doors at the end of October. Maybe this will be a temporary hiatus for the talented crew of this magical establishment. Maybe it is just for now, but there is no immediate plan for relocation. Certainly the gold-washed walls beneath the perfect mini-cathedral arches shaped just so will no longer house Douglas Keane and crew. The massive wooden bar that is the first thing one sees upon entering the hall will no longer be where I sit and playfully interrogate the knowledgeable bartenders as to the merits of all forms of crystal tequila to enhance my personal education. Cyrus, a place I have grown to love beyond reason, will, in this particular iteration, be gone forever.<br />
<br />
The very special restaurants (and people behind them) that find their way into our hearts by taking us places we’ve never traveled before, can develop connections with their customers that become deeply personal. This is particularly true when the occasions spent within their walls are ones as momentous as the anniversary of the date on which you pledged your troth to another human being until the end of time. Those moments become the touchstones of our lives, and the surroundings are carried in the memories. Precious and permanent. Whenever we conjure up the memory, we cannot help but picture ourselves in the surroundings where that memory was born.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
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My husband and I went to Cyrus. And we fell in love. With the food, with the decor, with the people who run it, and a little bit more with each other. And now it will be gone.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TW21ldpOl2c/UDbdeYBfWMI/AAAAAAAADEg/kGV92M84O1M/s1600/0.sm.cav.28.anniv.Healdsburg+025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TW21ldpOl2c/UDbdeYBfWMI/AAAAAAAADEg/kGV92M84O1M/s320/0.sm.cav.28.anniv.Healdsburg+025.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caviar, <br />
Egg,<br />
Powdered Creme Fraiche<br />
Blini</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b><i> Don't you sometimes wonder if it's worth all this? I mean what you're fighting for.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Victor Laszlo:</b><i> You might as well question why we breathe. If we stop breathing, we'll die. If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b><i> Well, what of it? It'll be out of its misery. </i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Victor Laszlo:</b><i> You know how you sound, Mr. Blaine? Like a man who's trying to convince himself of something he doesn't believe in his heart. </i><br />
<br />
THE USUAL SUSPECTS<br />
<br />
Douglas Keane and Company have been fighting a battle with their landlord for years, almost since they opened the doors to this intimate little jewel in the sleepy California town of Healdsburg. For reasons known only to them, they have finally given up that battle against the forces that have for so long wanted them gone. They have decided that it is no longer worth the soul-sucking battle and sleepless nights to remain in a location that is hostile, though they had over a decade remaining on their lease. This saddens me, both because these people are delightful, and what they made of the place was remarkable, and also because in my own small way, I felt I was part of the battle. A cheerleader on the sidelines, but invested in their continued success. It was their destiny to continue, as it was mine to enjoy the fruit of their labors. So I am left with what feels like a destiny thwarted.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Egg & Noodles</td></tr>
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<b>Rick:</b><i> [scoffs] You understand how I feel. How long was it we had, honey? </i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Ilsa:</b><i> [on the verge of tears] I didn't count the days. </i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b><i> Well, I did. Every one of 'em. Mostly I remember the last one. The wow finish. A guy standing on a station platform in the rain with a comical look on his face because his insides have been kicked out.</i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Ilsa:</b><i> Can I tell you a story, Rick? </i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b><i> Has it got a wow finish? </i><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"></span><b>Ilsa:</b><i> I don't know the finish yet. </i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">THE END OF A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP?</span><br />
<br />
It’s never easy to accept an ending. I’ve never been good at it, and though I have lost my share of beloved eateries in my day, this is a particularly hard one to take. I know that when one lives long enough this is going to happen occasionally, but it has never happened to a place as vital as Cyrus. It feels as though it would have been easier to accept if they were at the end of their journey instead of so close to the beginning. But as much trouble as I’m having, I have to assume it has been a much more challenging journey for the staff who have poured their lifeblood and creativity into the fruition of this magnificent establishment. But I also know them to be passionate people, who have to have thought a lot about this decision before choosing to pack up their kitchen. I don’t know how they are handling it internally, but I’m sure it’s with the grace and aplomb with which they do everything else. As for me, I’m still stuck in one of the early stages of grief. Denial. And I’m acting out by returning in October for a last meal. <br />
<br />
Certainly our most recent meal was enough to inspire anyone’s life-long dedication. We began with the caviar tasting. Mounds of tiny little briny eggs atop these incredible house baked blinis. Amuse after amuse, follow by an incredible salmon (for my husband the fish lover) and a chicken for me. By the time the chicken rolled around I’d eaten so much that for the first (and I hope last) time ever I couldn’t finish my main course. It was so good I didn’t want to stop but there comes a point when a girl knows she’s met her match. Another reason to go back. Well, that and the amazing flavors. Douglas Keane’s menus are a thing of wonder and beauty.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7GU5EsIjBZ8/UDbdiSfGsFI/AAAAAAAADE4/_zOwFT3pRBw/s1600/0.sm.soup.salad.28.anniv.Healdsburg+030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7GU5EsIjBZ8/UDbdiSfGsFI/AAAAAAAADE4/_zOwFT3pRBw/s320/0.sm.soup.salad.28.anniv.Healdsburg+030.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cold Soup "Salad"</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><b>Rick:</b><i> Tell me, who was it you left me for? Was it Laszlo, or were there others in between? Or - aren't you the kind that tells? </i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">AS TIME GOES BY<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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In spite of the news of the imminent extinction of this magnificent place (or maybe because of it), I decided to write about our most recent meal at Cyrus. To celebrate the perfect night. It will be perfect in my memory, no matter what comes afterwards, because when we ate there that blissful June night, we had no idea of what was to come. Anything was still possible. We could imagine returning year after year to celebrate our special day with these wonderful people in those beautiful surroundings. I will continue to imagine it until they make a return.<br />
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I believe in the culinary skills of Chef Keane and Company. And because I do, I don’t believe this will be the final chapter in their story. Maybe you’ll think I’m in denial, but I think they will be back, and they will be better than ever. In October, after the final diners have finished their meals and paid their checks, I imagine Doug and Nick walking off into the fog together. They will figure it out. And while they do, I will continue to dream of my next meal at their table. I will wait, if not patiently, for a reunion. I’m guessing I won’t be alone. From my perspective, this has been, and will continue to be, the beginning of a beautiful friendship. So check it out, if you can, before October brings the run of this magnificent establishment to a close. And don’t forget to ask Nick to pour the good brandy.<br />
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CYRUS Healdsburg<br />
(until 10/31/12): 29 North Street, Healdsburg<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moist roast chicken, skin crisped to perfection<br />
sits atop a bed of greens</td></tr>
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(after 11/1/12) coming to a theater near you...*<br />
*the Cyrus name and brand have retained by Douglas Keane & Nick PeytonThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-28408815863667710372012-08-16T20:44:00.000-07:002012-08-22T11:04:54.724-07:00EAT REAL 2012 - Oakland’s Jack London hosts Food-a-Palooza! Sept 21-23, 2012<br />
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WHETHER DINING WITH THE “STARS”<br />
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I met a reader recently who told me she wished she had my life. While reading my blog I suppose one could be led to believe that I lead this idyllic existence, blithely roaming from restaurant to restaurant, meal to meal, cocktail to cocktail. It certainly seemed to her that my world was one of constant fine dining and never-empty glasses of champagne. Nothing could be further from the truth. But since it isn’t the first time I’ve left folks with this impression, I have to assume its something about the way I recite my adventures that convinces others that my life is an effortless one of food and fun times. That’s not to say I don’t eat out more than most, though my eldest daughter’s recent nuptials have me brown bagging it more often than not. Not that I’m complaining. I find a meal of home-cooked succotash or soup as enjoyable (well okay almost) as a meal prepared by an artiste like David Kinch, whose Michelin-starred Manresa provided the backdrop for a recent triple birthday celebration. (That details of that particular adventure, however, will have to wait for another blog).<br />
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I think it’s because I believe in thoughtful eating. If a meal is experienced and savored, even a meal prepared at home from fresh but simple ingredients has as much opportunity to spread the love as a more formal repast. Eating well is less about spending money or dining out, than it is about eating attentively. Be present in the experience. Take a breath. Sit down. Savor each and every bite. Lastly, share your meals with someone whose company you truly enjoy. That’s my recipe for great dining. If I can pass on anything worthwhile, it is that our lives are too short to pine away for whatever it is you think yours may be missing. Enjoy what you do have with those who love you, be it over a flute of French champagne and a plate of foie gras — or a glass of Two Buck Chuck and a burger.<br />
<br />
OR DINING WITH THE MASSES<br />
<br />
The perception that dining at a Michelin-starred restaurant is the only way to enjoy a brilliant bite of food is something of a fallacy. Though I hope I am fortunate enough to continue to dine with the best Chefs this country has to offer, I am no food snob. One of my readers who owns a food truck once remarked “You eat so well, I’m jealous” I had to laugh a little at this. I replied to her “But I am eating well because I am eating this” and pointed to the sandwich she had just handed me. I was actually jealous of her, up in her truck window, handing out the tasty magic. To me that is a charmed life indeed. But that’s my point. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Senor Sisig's magic is well worth<br />
the wait. In the long, long,<br />
long long line...</td></tr>
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The fact is, I like to eat much too much to confine my culinary entertainment to something I can only enjoy three or four times a year. Fortunately for me, there are many levels of fine food, and not all come at Michelin prices. <br />
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ENTER, EAT REAL FESTIVAL, OAKLAND. September 21, 22, 23, 2012<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The staff at Tamarindo will<br />
serve up nothing less than perfection</td></tr>
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Held at Jack London Square in Oakland every September Eat Real is a celebration of so much of what it is I enjoy about the Oakland dining scene these days. All that is vibrant and vital and good about my little home town. Oakland may be San Francisco’s under-appreciated baby sibling, but these days she’s got as much to offer as her Big Sister City, especially when it comes to less expensive establishments, and that includes the proliferation of food trucks (although she still needs a giant clue when it comes to allowing the trucks a bit more leeway to serve up their wares). <br />
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A Chef doesn’t have to have a Michelin-star to rock my world, or even my tastebuds. All he or she needs is good ingredients, imagination, and most importantly --- skills. Like any other art form, cooking with enough inventiveness to create a point-of-view is a skill that can’t completely be taught, so not every culinary school graduate can make the magic happen.<br />
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Eat Real has vetted its participants the best way possible, happy customers. This food festival is jam-packed with the best-of-the-best of all the aforementioned food trucks, local brewers, as well as representatives from some heavy-hitters in Oakland’s bustling restaurant scene. Every participant brings their A-game in eats, many offer classes in all manner of food-related curiosities. Cheese-making, bread-baking, you name it. This array of talented culinary artisans coupled with California’s gorgeous Indian Summer weather all comes together to create that which is at the heart Eat Real— a three day journey to a heavenly food-centric Mecca. <br />
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I suggest you make time to experience it. Chop Bar of Oakland will be serving up some (whole roasted) pig; there will be crepes from Brittany Crepes and Galettes, roasted corn and yams by Ear-Good Corn Roast, Indian street food from Curry Up Now! and, if memory serves me right, Little Green Cyclo and Senor Sisig will be serving up the longest lines (and some of the most amazing grub) ever to be experienced.<br />
<br />
Admission is free. Food is inexpensive (though it does add up) and cash is best.<br />
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For a full schedule of participants visit www.eatrealfest.com<br />
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Check it out. Make a memory, and learn to make a loaf of bread. Or make a memory about making a loaf of bread with a loved one!The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-10169442943702221782012-08-08T22:25:00.000-07:002012-08-08T22:25:50.931-07:00GUEST CHEF: Imaginative Concept Restaurant Graces Oakland<br />
BE OUR GUEST ....<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CZv5ev4330c/UCM7qlpmWRI/AAAAAAAADDQ/Q4Zoezp3ju0/s1600/0.watermelon.ab.Guest+Chef+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CZv5ev4330c/UCM7qlpmWRI/AAAAAAAADDQ/Q4Zoezp3ju0/s320/0.watermelon.ab.Guest+Chef+002.jpg" width="320" /></a>My daughter’s favorite film in all the world is Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, and one of the best moments of that movie is the scene where Belle is treated to dinner by the talking household furnishings. Lumiere, a charming Candelabra insists that no one be served bread and water when a true repast can be prepared, while arguing with Cogsworth (the clock) who is afraid to treat the young lady to a proper meal should they be caught doing so by their Master, the Beast. The scene is followed by much singing and dancing (all done by table ware), but the point is a good one. To be a host is a sacred duty. It is not sufficient to feed to sustain, it is incumbent on the parties responsible for feeding their guests to provide more. To provide an experience that will be memorable.<br />
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At Guest Chef in Oakland, that concept has been taken to another level. Every two weeks, a new Chef, or team of chefs, is permitted to run the kitchen for the diners who book their menu. Each menu is seasonal, and the chefs themselves are vetted for skill and inventiveness. The concept presented an opportunity for a lovely adventure with which to celebrate the BH’s birthday, so we booked ourselves a table and checked it out. Not surprisingly, our experience with the restaurant, and the meal served us, was indeed, delightful.<br />
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THE TEAM AT FRESH CANVAS<br />
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Our meal was served by the team of Chef James Koskiniemi and Sous Chef Paul Dioguardi and it was a refreshing meal of unparalleled summer bounty. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scallops and Orchids</td></tr>
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At the young age of six, Chef Koskiniemi won first place in a men’s cooking competition and a culinary award from the famed Alice Waters. It appears that this was all the inspiration young James needed, as he went on to study at the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco. After graduating at the top of his class, Chef K was the 2010 recipient of the San Francisco Chefs Association Chef of the Year. Chef Koskiniemi has worked at several of the Bay’s best restaurants, among them Boulevard and Chez Panisse. Currently Chef James and Chef Paul run Fresh Canvas, a catering company that can be hired to bring one of their magnificent meals to fruition for anyone who’d like to experience their extraordinary brand of culinary acumen.<br />
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THE MEAL<br />
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Whenever the opportunity presents itself, the BH and I have learned to plant ourselves at the Chef’s Counter to watch the magic happen from the front row. It’s like having tickets to see a great piano player, the closer the better. There’s nothing like that personal interaction with Chef K and Paul were charming, and in addition to finding their fare delightful, I thought they were great entertainers. Forthcoming with information and passionate about the food they prepare. In my book, it doesn’t get any better than that. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crunchy Corn Beignets <br />drizzled in Honey<br />and set off with grapes</td></tr>
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We loved our first visit so much, we took our daughter back to catch the “show” before closing night. Having a theatrical background (I spent almost 20 years costuming stage productions) I love the sense of urgency. The audience only has so long to appreciate that once in a lifetime show. The actors will never be the same, and each performance is different. Cooking is indeed, live theater, and the best acts just keep it coming.<br />
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On our second visit, we began our meal with a lovely amuse of watermelon and corn “beignets” which were an incredible cross between the light batter of a beignet and the textured crunch of the sweet corn within. Delectable. We continued on with several appetizers, an heirloom tomato salad with fresh burrata, and some beautiful bay scallops. <br />
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Our youngest daughter and oft-dining companion is deathly allergic to fish rather than seafood, so was unable to taste my better-half’s delectable salmon which had been crusted with macadamia nuts and gently laid on a marvelous bed of farro. I had a perfectly prepared filet and the Baby Lawyer had this marvelous vegetarian dish which was wrapped up beautifully in a phyllo shell and despite my bias toward dishes with animal proteins, I found absolutely delicious.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salmon & Farro</td></tr>
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The whole experience was somehow heightened by the immediacy of knowing the Chefs were there for such a brief time, and they made full-use of that “one night only” feeling that the Guest Chef model creates. After spending those two visits bonding, I came away determined to return for another new experience and wishing both Chef Jeff and Chef Paul enormous success. Were they to open an establishment of their own on a more permanent basis, I’d be first in line on opening night.<br />
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It’s a great idea, an incredible experience, and is reasonably priced. I should also mention that the lovely young woman working both FOH and table service, was great at her job and added immensely to an already perfect experience.<br />
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Check it out, make a memory. Then go back in two weeks and repeat. No two memories need be the same. Cool.<br />
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THE DETAILS<br />
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Guest Chef<br />
5337 College Ave, Oakland, CA 94618<br />
Email: info@theguestchef.net<br />
Phone: (510) 658-7378<br />
Web: http://www.theguestchef.net<br />
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Hours<br />
Tuesday – Thursday<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>5:30 – 9:00<br />
Friday - Sunday<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>5:30 – 10:00<br />
Currently Not Serving Lunch<br />
Closed Monday<br />The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-68272565690961732292012-08-06T21:32:00.000-07:002012-08-06T21:32:56.455-07:00FULL CIRCLE - Healthier Eating is just a mouse-click away.<br />
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EVERYTHING OLD IS NEW AGAIN<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When I was a child I remember the milk man coming to the front door. He brought his chilled bottles of the fresh, cold white beverage to be poured over our cereal. My mother would go to the front porch for the delivery and bring the carton of misty-chilled glass bottles into the house and set them on the kitchen counter. I thought it was magic.<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But of course it wasn’t magic, it was good old American entrepreneurship. Farmers milked their cows, the milk was processed for consumption and delivered as fresh as possible to the doorsteps of happy consumers. Then came the mass production of containers, the longer shelf life of food products, the advent of TV dinners. Convenient, certainly. Healthier? Not so much. There’s a lesson there for the health-conscious. The longer the chain of custody between consumers and the food they eat, the more those consumers lose in the health value of the foods themselves. Preservatives gave us more time, but along the way, we lost out on nutrient value in many foods, nutrients that were supplanted by chemicals in our systems that we have come to learn are not the best for preserving own longevity. And then there’s the loss of flavor over time. I mean, is there any comparison to truly fresh corn?<br />
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FRESH PRODUCE STRAIGHT TO YOUR DOORSTEP!<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Recently I was offered a marvelous opportunity by Full Circle, a company dedicated to resurrecting the home delivery of recently harvested local produce. Their program includes dairy, as well as other delectable offerings from farmers all around the state. They offered to give me several months of membership at no charge, so that I might help them test out the system as Full Circle expanded their successful home delivery program to include the Bay Area. Being a food writer, I’m offered a lot of opportunities to try products, or to judge events, but few have changed my life so dramatically as this one.<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After several months of receiving produce on my doorstep early each Tuesday morning, I’ve found that I’m cooking more, inspired by the ingredients that arrive fresh from the farm. No remembering to swing by Whole Foods to get those tomatoes I’ve forgotten to replace after the last salad. I’ve made sweet corn right on the cob, steak slathered in fresh-picked mushrooms and salads piled high with ripe juicy tomatoes.<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And the fruit! Strawberries that need only to be rinsed and popped into the mouth to thrill the palate beyond measure. The BH enjoys his grapefruit, and we’re drinking fresh squeezed orange juice with breakfast on the weekends. It’s been quite the revelation. So much so that I’m determined to make it a habit.<br />
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THE DETAILS<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Full Circle membership is a reasonably priced alternative that is easy to manage. One can turn off any single delivery with a visit to the member login portion of the site and a click of a mouse. In addition to weekly deliveries of produce (which come in various sizes: Seed, Sprout, Garden & Harvest) the site offers the option to shop at their grocery, featuring local cheeses, jams, pickled goods, and all manner of other goodies. The size of delivery can be changed as often as desired, to accommodate a small family or a one-time large family gathering.<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s something to be said for cooking meals inspired by what’s fresh and available rather than using prescribed ingredients to suit the demands of a particular recipe. It allows for more creativity certainly, but it also provides a more nutritious and satisfying meal. <br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My “free time” was up several weeks ago, and I’ve decided to keep Full Circle in my regular line-up of food acquisitions. It’s simple, it’s delicious, and it’s fresh! Maybe I just miss the days of the milk man, but I say bring him back. It’s more exciting than waiting for the ice cream truck!<br />
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Full Circle can be found at www.fullcirclefarms.com - Check it out for yourself and make a memorable meal!<br />
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<br />The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-64307257830482304992012-06-29T17:42:00.000-07:002012-08-09T15:23:39.711-07:00After the Fest Has Gone - (New Orleans Part Two) <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boudin Sausage Plate @ Cochon Butcher</td></tr>
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The City has quieted down somewhat since the festivities have concluded. The loud whirring of the refrigerator truck that was keeping mountains of Abida beer chilled and at the ready for the crowds along Royal Street, has been replaced by the strains of a lone accordian player who has perched just below the ledge of our hotel window to serenade the few passers by. This particular musician has mastered only the chords of a single song, so the melody is unchanging, which as time passes becomes somewhat monotonous. This is unusual for New Orleans, the buskers here are generally very, very good. Nevertheless, I find the music soothing as it vibrates through the closed window of our hotel room overlooking the busy corner of Chartres and Madison, now nearly abandoned. Yesterday the sound of the party could be heard outside our window into the wee hours of the morning. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duck @ Herbsaint</td></tr>
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Nevertheless, we are able to get some much-needed rest before we head back out into the city for the second part of our stay, which, not surprisingly, also consists of unwinding with food and drink. This is, after all, what one does when in New Orleans. There will be just a little less street music as the City hunkers down in preparation for Jazz Fest, the musical equivalent to the "eye of the storm" as we pass through from one festival to another. Though we have enjoyed our whirlwind tour of the music and dance of our beloved New Orleans, we are ready for some time in the City that is all our own.<br />
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We have a grueling schedule ahead of us: shopping, stopping for drinks, visiting the cemetery and a lineup of reservations at some of the finest restaurants in the City. Poor me.<br />
The Monday after Fest, we take a ride on the St. Charles Streetcar up to the Garden District to visit one of our favorite haunts, [Emile] Commanders’ Palace. The restaurant is a fixture in the city — having been run by the Brennan family for the past few decades. Its kitchen has been a training ground for such chefs as Emeril Legasse and Paul Prudhomme. Commanders is one of the original New Orleans fine-dining establishments. Currently led by Chef Tory McPhail, the kitchen behind those familiar swinging doors is a place both inventive and traditional. Behind these heavy black doors (one marked YES and the other NO, to assist in warning off potential oncoming traffic and averting culinary disasters), is a staff capable of the most current of dishes, while managing to evoke in every plate something of the lazy hot Mint-Julep Sundays of centuries passed. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The" Bread Pudding Souffle<br />
@ Commander's Palace</td></tr>
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There are a lot of newer restaurants I will talk about in a moment, but Commanders bears mentioning, not just because it is established, representing the pinnacle of all that which is "Gone With the Wind" but because it is has managed to remain so, fulfilling the expectations of those who cling to a Southern milieu, while at the same time re-inventing itself . Chef Tory takes the traditional flavors and ingredients one expects in New Orleans and blends them into dishes that are light and flavorful and captivating. His style could be termed "Traditional FRESH." Behind the familiar bright turquoise exterior, lays a restaurant capable of delivering as memorable a gastronomic experience as any one of the newer, "hipper" restaurants that have sprung up in the Crescent City post-Katrina, such as Cochon and Stella! New Orleans takes such pride in the history of its food that familiar memes will surface in each of the restaurants around town in one form or another. Occasionally this repetition can seem a bit worn, but nothing in this restaurant will fail to deliver the potency of flavor that wasn’t around in such delicacy of layering even two decades past. <br />
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In addition to the plates at Chef McPhail’s table delivering consistently great food, Commanders is also beautiful. Inside, it boasts a glistening interior full of mirrors and linens and twisting passageways, evoking the essence of the mid-forties Deep South. The ambience providing the diner the means to time-travel back to an era when ladies wore gardenias in their hair and carried parasols to keep their skin unblemished by the sun, each accompanied by a gentleman in a Panama shade hat, who would never think to be without a [linen] coat and tie in the dining room. And Commanders maintains all of this historical elegance without for a minute giving the visitor the sense that they’ve stumbled into grandmas’ musty parlor, on the contrary, one is living in the moment — a moment preserved from a beautiful past, but as vital, alive and a part of the present as it ever existed in memory.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lobster @ August</td></tr>
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Commander’s Palace is a restaurant we have visited on every single trip to New Orleans. It remains our touchstone for the "City that Care Forgot," like standing at the foot of the Tour d’Eiffel in Paris or crossing the Plaza at the head of Main Street just beyond the entrance gates to Disneyland, one hasn’t really been to New Orleans until one has been back to Commander’s Palace.<br />
We ate light on this occasion (or as light as we could given that forgoing the Bread Pudding Souffle at CP is simply <i>not</i> an option), as the longer we stay in NoLa, the harder it gets for us to maintain our Olympian-level eating skills. Commander’s bread pudding may be the best dessert on the planet. It is certainly the best version of bread pudding I have ever tasted. It encompasses everything about this staple of the South. Lovely spiced bread, slathered in butter and soaked in milk until it turns the consistency of pudding, then gently coupled with whipped egg whites and baked — a concoction so light and airy one would think it had been whisked by the wings of heaven’s happiest angels. At tableside, the souffle is gently broken open in the top center with a large silver spoon, the waiter then pouring a creamy serving of bourbon sauce from a tiny white pitcher directly into the steaming finished product. Like a saucer of milk beckons to a litter of hungry kittens, we lap it all up compliantly. Purr-fection.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sUYQmSef4LE/T-5IStoGMNI/AAAAAAAADAo/L3VR6-Q6NRM/s1600/0.sm.gnocchi.Herbsaint.420.12+321+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sUYQmSef4LE/T-5IStoGMNI/AAAAAAAADAo/L3VR6-Q6NRM/s320/0.sm.gnocchi.Herbsaint.420.12+321+%25282%2529.jpg" vca="true" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gnocchi @ Herbsaint, slathered in cheese!</td></tr>
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Full and sluggish, we cross the street to wander the Lafayette Cemetery. It is our custom to visit here each time we dine at Commander’s, after which we venture out into the Garden District to stroll amongst the homes that themselves are the stately remains of old Dixie. There are flowers everywhere, in this climate that encourages a multitude of foliage. I assume this plethora of beautiful growing things is how the area got its name. Indeed, the blooms are abundant.<br />
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That evening (it is the Monday after Fest) Herbsaint is our destination of choice, which is why we tried so desperately at lunch to "save room for dinner." Originally the brainchild of Chefs Donald Link (Cochon) and Susan Spicer (Bayona), Herbsaint is an upscale "bistro" style resto in the CBD, just down the street from John Besh’s August. Though she was part of the team that helmed the restaurant in its infancy, Chef Spicer is no longer associated with the restaurant creatively, now concentrating her artistic efforts on Bayona, which is her original enterprise. Bayona is in the heart of the Vieux Carre and is an excellent spot to dine, but it so happens we didn’t visit it this time down South. It’s a shame, but I simply can’t eat twice a night. My bad. </div>
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The following day we slept in a bit before undertaking our annual walk down to Magazine Street for a little shopping and more eating. I would suppose that many of you might prefer a taxi, as it is a number of miles and quite a hike, but we look forward to the long walk past Canal, the Central Business District and into the quaint section of town that lies just outside the Quarter. We actually met a regular visitor to the City who had never been further out of the French Quarter than Cochon in his five trips to NoLa. I found that more than a little bit shocking, not to mention short-sighted food wise. There is so much to eat beyond the tiny square of French-infused New Orleans. There is the rest of a big, vibrant and beautiful City.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tUhz3oU0Umk/T-5IQdcjM4I/AAAAAAAAC_0/tIfI-VVqORI/s1600/0.duck.breast.August.420.12+335+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tUhz3oU0Umk/T-5IQdcjM4I/AAAAAAAAC_0/tIfI-VVqORI/s320/0.duck.breast.August.420.12+335+%25284%2529.jpg" vca="true" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duck Breast ala "Besh" @ August</td></tr>
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We arrived at Cochon Butcher if not starving, certainly ready to dive into a good portion of the offerings to be found at this local treasure. Cochon Butcher is the tiny "hole in the wall" that is part butcher shop, sandwich counter & wine bar that will be found tucked into a tiny space (just a bit bigger than my dream clothes closet will be) at 930 Tchoupitoulas Street. The eatery is helmed by Link’s current partner, Chef Stephen Stryjewski. His food is straightforward, but chock full of complex flavors. And like any good wine bar in New Orleans, they also serve hard liquor. To geaux, no less. Absolutely divine. Nuff’ said. <br />
<br />
Our evening reservations for Tuesday were at Chef John Besh’s August, a jewel in the C.B.D. crown. Having visited last year with our kids, we decided we had to make a return trip to see if it was as good as memory served. It was. We even had the same amazingly gifted server, who took us through the meal like a pro. Halfway through, I look up to see a tall (very tall) man in white with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen on another human being. They were like big blue high-beams. It was his Besh-ness. In person. I confess that my feminine heart was a-flutter as he welcomed us so personally to his restaurant. Nice touch. <i>Ladies, I cannot stress enough. His Besh-ness is as impressive as his food.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZJoY9xWXyhPDk1Ldj3qdxQHz5yJpByV8BhDQeD-YWnolnZ94v2d98CmT6jZH-L7-wTx26ftif1kyKhpi_xPoBnKAaIKCLjOjissXJJJ09nBCNoKlhiDaPLvC7gP3xcDP0JMmgRrkua1R/s1600/0.duck.soup.RootNola.420.12+344+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZJoY9xWXyhPDk1Ldj3qdxQHz5yJpByV8BhDQeD-YWnolnZ94v2d98CmT6jZH-L7-wTx26ftif1kyKhpi_xPoBnKAaIKCLjOjissXJJJ09nBCNoKlhiDaPLvC7gP3xcDP0JMmgRrkua1R/s320/0.duck.soup.RootNola.420.12+344+%25282%2529.jpg" vca="true" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duck in Broth with dumplings <br />
@ Root</td></tr>
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The following day we wandered the Quarter, making sure to hit all our favorite t-shirts stops, including any new ones that had particularly fetching versions of "I left my heart in New Orleans’ or any iteration thereof, for our friends back home. There is one worth mentioning, called "Fleurty Girl" that is chock full of lovely tees adorned with all the best inside jokes favored by the natives of the Crescent City. If you hanker for the Vo-dou (Haitian original of Voo Doo) there is a charming little authentic shop run by practitioners directly behind the Place d’Armes called Voo-Doo Authentica. All are definitely worth a look see. <br />
<br />
We continued to wander the French Quarter looking for carry-away gifts until late in the day. Too late for a major meal as we’d secured reservations that evening at the new hot spot, Root; but the BH was hungry so with dinner still a few hours away, we pondered our available choices. We both suddenly realized we hadn’t yet taken a "ride" on the Carousel Bar at the Hotel Monteleone. We immediately headed up Royal toward Canal and stopped in for a drink. The bar was almost empty, which is rare, so we sat at the center of the "carousel" and let it carry us away. I had a milk punch, a new staple this trip, and the BH enjoyed their version of a Hurricane. The bar is circular, overhead is the topper to an old-fashioned merry-go-round; the seats each carved to resemble various animals seen on the familiar ride. It rotates, giving those in the seats surrounding the bar an opportunity to peruse the room from all angles (or just to become dizzy with booze consumed at its counters). This is a landmark destination in the City, and though the bar is novel, customers come mostly for the music. The piano bar is legendary, hosting such incredible talent as Tom McDermott and Jon Cleary. It had, in fact, been packed the entire trip, as it was one of the destination locations for local musicians at Quarter Fest. Newly renovated, the piano bar is now twice its former size — allowing a much more comfortable view of the entertainment. Perfect break in a long day. We left refreshed, both our buzz and our moods were significantly improved. And the bear was no longer hungry.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HraaRXE0AWiBhlQFwK80rC8kIQHj2Z_A0Wtw0eLfbVdPss7ZGzShRJdmj9liYlOVw0BnQDoOgprDgrXu4ABXkKonsNzlg1kSQvAM_wiGNiN9dSd-S06PE7bkyaMrR5tBijw0n0hMskEn/s1600/0.sm.meat.plate.RootNola+%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HraaRXE0AWiBhlQFwK80rC8kIQHj2Z_A0Wtw0eLfbVdPss7ZGzShRJdmj9liYlOVw0BnQDoOgprDgrXu4ABXkKonsNzlg1kSQvAM_wiGNiN9dSd-S06PE7bkyaMrR5tBijw0n0hMskEn/s320/0.sm.meat.plate.RootNola+%25288%2529.jpg" vca="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meat & Pickled Bits Sampler @ Root<br />
(absolutely to DIE for)</td></tr>
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We got back to the hotel and had a brief siesta before dressing for dinner. Root was recommended to us some time ago by Chef Dean Dupuis (formerly of Pican in Oakland) who had heard multiple glowing reviews of the place and insisted we put it on our itinerary. Trusting his judgment in all things culinary, we headed to Root expecting to be pleased. I had no idea just how much so I would be. The decor is extremely modern chic, capturing an underground vibe, its green and wood interior recreating in my mind a space that felt much like a cave at the base of a tree. I had the feeling I was visiting an upscale hobbit nest in New York City. Only I was above ground, and in New Orleans. It’s absolutely one of the most successful interior decorating efforts I’ve encountered to date. Magical as Disneyland and extremely inviting. Now for the food.<br />
<br />
The menu is varied, with plenty of choices for everyone, but one of their features is a "meat platter" that is a mountain (and I mean a mountain) of meats and pickled goodies. We had a modestly priced version, as we wanted to try other dishes, and it was almost too much for us. There is a $50 dollar version I am dying to try, as this was such a memorable food experience it still keeps me up nights salivating just thinking about it. The meats were house-cured and varied, tongue, liver, salumi, you name it. The assortment of pickled accompaniments were likewise varied, containing pickles, onions, peppers, vegetables of all shapes and consistencies. If it can be pickled they will bring it. The pickling itself was perfectly acidic, some of the selections a bit spicier than others. They also brought this miniature tube of a lovely house mustard to be applied as desired to the combinations. Perhaps it was the "Choose Your Own Adventure" aspect of the serving methods I liked as much as the food, but whatever the reason, I was seriously overwhelmed by the heavenly variety of goodies in my mouth. This is a dish to be had, and had again... and again. They also do a magnificent scallop surprise in a box that is as imaginative in presentation as it is delicious. Do not miss Root if you are ever in New Orleans. Seriously, y’all, <i>do</i> it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GkkbEhZqo4I/T-5IPF8FfJI/AAAAAAAAC_Q/8tOhU-2GLp8/s1600/0.bananas.foster.decon.August.420.12+335+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="157" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GkkbEhZqo4I/T-5IPF8FfJI/AAAAAAAAC_Q/8tOhU-2GLp8/s320/0.bananas.foster.decon.August.420.12+335+%25281%2529.jpg" vca="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deconstructed Bananas Foster @ August</td></tr>
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That was our last evening in the city, and as we packed up our room, we couldn’t help but comment on what a perfect rip this had been. Music everywhere, plenty of booze, great food and for the most part perfect weather (except the two-day thunderstorm, it was clear for 8 days, which never happens). We took one last walk down to the Riverfront before catching our cab to the Metairie Airport. There is just something about the Mississippi. The familiar smell off the water, carried along on the cool breeze as one walks down Decatur; the calming sound of the water as it laps the rockbed on the shore as one approaches the foot of the steps that take all travelers who venture it, right down to the water’s edge. Her gifts are my last bit of lagniappe before leaving the city I love like home. As we turn to go, The Mighty Mississippi calls on the breeze, she whispers "Don’t go. Stay and rest yourself a bit longer. But if you must leave, do come back. I’ll be here to welcome you when you return. Always." And she is, with her magic and her quiet and her ghosts. I gaze out over the expanse, remembering in the silence all those lost to her waters just seven years ago. They are here in spirit, keeping watch, as the water whispers "Always..."</div>
<br />
"Y’all come back..."<br />
<br />
Root<br />
200 Julia Street (in the Warehouse District)<br />
New Orleans, LA 70130<br />
504-252-9480<br />
<a href="http://www.rootnola.com/">http://www.rootnola.com/</a><br />
<div id="primary">
<div class="website">
<br /></div>
<div class="website">
August</div>
<div class="website">
301 Tchoupitoulas Street</div>
<div class="website">
New Orleans, LA 70130</div>
<div class="website">
504-299-9777</div>
<div class="website">
<a href="http://www.restaurantaugust.com/">http://www.restaurantaugust.com/</a> </div>
<div class="website">
<br /></div>
<div class="website">
Herbsaint</div>
<div class="website">
701 Saint Charles Ave</div>
<div class="website">
New Orleans, LA 70130</div>
<div class="website">
504-524-4114</div>
<div class="website">
<a href="http://www.herbsaint.com/">http://www.herbsaint.com/</a></div>
<div class="website">
<br /></div>
<div class="website">
Cochon & Cochon Butcher</div>
<div class="website">
930 Tchoupitoulas Street</div>
<div class="website">
New Orleans, LA 70130</div>
<div class="website">
504-588-2123</div>
<div class="website">
<a href="http://www.cochonrestaurant.com/">http://www.cochonrestaurant.com/</a> </div>
<div class="website">
<br /></div>
<div class="website">
Hotel Monteleone</div>
<div class="website">
214 Royal Street</div>
<div class="website">
New Orleans, LA 70130</div>
<div class="website">
504-528-1019</div>
<div class="website">
<a href="http://www.hotelmonteleone.com/">http://www.hotelmonteleone.com/</a> </div>
</div>The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-77327881972744818782012-06-09T22:47:00.000-07:002012-06-29T17:43:00.851-07:00GREAT FOOD AND HIGH PURPOSE: Culinary Clash in the Kitchen@812<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rDrhZDFpcQU/T9QvEtkJwDI/AAAAAAAAC-8/LtcFdFCBXvE/s1600/sm.us.foods.larder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rDrhZDFpcQU/T9QvEtkJwDI/AAAAAAAAC-8/LtcFdFCBXvE/s320/sm.us.foods.larder.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pantry donated by<br />
US Foods</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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There is nothing quite as inspiring as people coming together to work hard for a good cause. The Kitchen@812 in Pinole is just such an inspiration. In a climate where America’s blue collar workers have been abandoned by the collective psyche of this country in favor of worshiping at the altar of corporate greed and a fast buck, it’s nice to find people who are focused on something other than themselves.<br />
<br />
A project of the Business Development Council (BDC) the Kitchen@812 is <i>“a nonprofit food business incubator, enabl[ing] local entrepreneurs to turn their passions into profit by helping them launch and develop their food ventures. This shared-used commercial kitchen also serves as a place where small business owners can learn more about the technical aspects of food production and receive individualized business assistance.”</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-20XfZeY5UPw/T9Qu31GlpnI/AAAAAAAAC9c/Ka8ARjktSTc/s1600/sm.ian.marks.ismael.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-20XfZeY5UPw/T9Qu31GlpnI/AAAAAAAAC9c/Ka8ARjktSTc/s320/sm.ian.marks.ismael.2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chef Ian Marks (left) and<br />
Ismael Macias (right)</td></tr>
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These days everybody is a “foodie.” We all have to eat, and finding the joy in the basics of life is an obvious “go-to” when money is tight and people find themselves having to cut back on other indulgences. But food can sustain us in more ways than just giving us pleasure in the consuming of it. It can bring people together. It can energize a whole community to help others feed themselves, while also feeding that part of us that is alone by our very nature. That part of us that comes together around the table to seek companionship, conversation and yes, that perfect bite of food to experience — together. An outreach program designed to tap into this and help those who have chosen the culinary industry as a means of self-support seems to me to be very “Circle of Life.” Helping those who want to feed others, in order that they in turn might feed their own families, all coming together to form a perfect circle, in a beautifully symbiotic and productive manifestation of the best of the human condition. There’s something truly remarkable about this effort that deserves our support. After all, whether we like it or not, we are all ultimately part of the food chain, and thus, all part of the community of food.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fr9k2WuT7dM/T9Quu5I5fSI/AAAAAAAAC8Y/RPEUMP2rqZQ/s1600/sm.adriana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fr9k2WuT7dM/T9Quu5I5fSI/AAAAAAAAC8Y/RPEUMP2rqZQ/s320/sm.adriana.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Father-Daughter Team<br />
Adriana Lopez-Vermut<br />
& Leopoldo Lopez<br />
of Pica Pica</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The event I attended in May was the Kitchen@812’s first “Culinary Clash.” A dramatic “Iron Chef meets Top Chef” style battle that was hosted by BDC and several like-minded corporate sponses, it was a fundraiser for the organization’s scholarships. These scholarships provide kitchen-time in their fully-equipped industrial facility to qualified applicants at no cost, as a way to get them up and running in their chosen field of culinary dreams. Simultaneously, business experts and those currently engaged in the profession offer counseling and guidance to give the fledgling Chefs a solid base on which to begin his or her food-based enterprise. Any funds not needed for such scholarships will go towards more equipment and supplies. As a note of encouragement to any of my food-related readers who might have sources for donations of first rate (unused or “as new”) kitchen equipment, please contact them at the number(s) below. Pay it forward people.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PjIIjH0VH4c/T9QuvkcyFuI/AAAAAAAAC8g/Gawc1kfbQGM/s1600/sm.beast.hare.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PjIIjH0VH4c/T9QuvkcyFuI/AAAAAAAAC8g/Gawc1kfbQGM/s320/sm.beast.hare.2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian Marks of Beast & Hare's Entry<br />
(the onion puree was to die for)</td></tr>
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My experience as a judge at this event was a highlight of my career as a journalistic-observer who has become joyfully infatuated with this industry. Ordinarily, my comments are directed at established restauranteurs. I share the pleasures I find at the tables of some of the world’s greatest cooks with my readers, in order that they, too, might partake of the best of the best. On this occasion that remained true, the Chefs who had donated their time and talents to promote this event were all established and gifted. Their edible offerings remarkable down to the last bite. Above and beyond my being thrilled to consume and attempt to quantify their relative successes during the contest itself, I was also struck by their generosity with one another. My deepest impression is that in the chef community, there is a camaraderie and brotherhood not always seen in other industries. Yes, these men and women had come to be judged and to promote their own restaurants. But they had also come to share their gifts not merely to inspire others to join them, but to actually help make that possible. They gave freely of their cumulative knowledge and skills to allow struggling newcomers, people they may never even meet, a fair shot at the opportunities they themselves have experienced at the hands of the “food gods.” During the competition itself, they were among the classiest competitors I have ever seen, generously offering each other ingredients or pointing out the locations of equipment without any thought of giving up a competitive edge.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3ewoo24HORA/T9Qu6ZJnPzI/AAAAAAAAC90/-8H7NgF1N3M/s1600/sm.lark.steak.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3ewoo24HORA/T9Qu6ZJnPzI/AAAAAAAAC90/-8H7NgF1N3M/s320/sm.lark.steak.2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steak carpaccio over a bed<br />
of zucchini "pasta", topped with jelly<br />
bean "gelee" from Lark Creek's Macias</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This generosity of spirit is a universal mantra in the food industry. Chefs often refer to one another as “brother” (a term that seems to be universally applied to all, regardless of gender). It reinforces that sense of family, like the "family meals" shared at various restaurants all around the country. Before a service begins, the kitchen comes together. Each member contributes to this family table. A sous chef might bring dessert, a pastry chef might whip up a simple treat of fish or chicken. It is about breaking bread and reinforcing that sense of kitchen community that for me, is at the heart which is at the root of good food. Food is love, yes, but food is also family.<br />
<br />
That spirit was exemplified by the four chefs who volunteered to compete in the event. <b>Patrick Robertson</b> of <b>Pappas Restaurant</b> in Benicia, <b>Ismael Macias</b> of <b>Lark Creek Steak</b> in San Francisco, <b>Adriana Lopez-Vermut </b>(ably assisted by her father, <b>Leopoldo Lopez</b>) of <b>Pica Pica Maize Kitchen</b> in San Francisco and <b>Ian Marks</b> of <b>Beast and The Hare</b> in San Francisco. In my book, every one of them a winner. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ESj6d_MVby8/T9QvA_bBj8I/AAAAAAAAC-g/wQvjSOVoF_s/s1600/sm.pica.pica.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ESj6d_MVby8/T9QvA_bBj8I/AAAAAAAAC-g/wQvjSOVoF_s/s320/sm.pica.pica.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh Strawberries over a jelly bean glaze<br />
and oven fried kale from Pica Pica's<br />
Team Lopez</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The <b>Chef who took home the prized “rolling pin award” was Chef Robertson from Pappas Restaurant in Benicia.</b> Recently seen on the Food Channel’s “Restaurant Impossible” Chef Robertson reports that Pappas has indeed turned around and is again prospering. Chef Patrick used the “mystery ingredient” of green-apple jelly beans (provided by Jelly Bellies, a sponsor of the event) in a delicious Asian salsa over the mandatory protein, a beautiful slab of hangar steak that each Chef had been challenged with reinventing for the evening’s competition. The rest of his team was made up of <b>Sous Chef Ed Sullivan [representing PG&E]</b> and Guest Chef (El Cerrito City Councilwoman) <b>Ann Cheng</b>. Other guest chefs were Pinole City Councilman <b>Roy Swearingen</b>, Richmond City Councilman <b>Corky Boozer </b>(pro: BOO Zay) and Hercules City Councilwoman <b>Myrna de Vera</b>. Luminaries of this community came out en masse to support this incredibly worth endeavor.<br />
<br />
The even was attended by approximately 150 paid guests, all pillars of the community and all delighted with their “small plates” of the evenings entrees at the conclusion of the awards ceremony. The event managed to raise $25,000 net profit, which will translate into approximately twenty scholarships for worthy applicant-entrepreneurs. In addition to myself, the event was judged by <b>Genoveva Calloway</b>, Councilmember, City of San Pablo, and <b>John Strohmeier</b>, Contra Costa MarketPlace Magazine.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9hzjK2TQEv8/T9QurEJqnzI/AAAAAAAAC8A/rBKN4Oap4Ts/s1600/sm.Pappas.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9hzjK2TQEv8/T9QurEJqnzI/AAAAAAAAC8A/rBKN4Oap4Ts/s320/sm.Pappas.2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The winning dish, a perfectly prepared<br />
Hangar steak with a corn salsa flavored<br />
with green-apple jelly beans!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Kitchen@812 is a place where budding chefs from under-served communities, can find a way to turn their talents to profit. They come here to perfect their product and hone their skills by learning the ins-and-outs of a fully equipped professional kitchen. Time in this environment is something that can be difficult to come by, and here it can be had at an affordable cost. For those who qualify for one of their scholarships, it can be had at no cost at all for up to three months. <br />
<br />
Like so many parts of the country these days, high levels of unemployment and low household incomes can serve to create a feeling that there is no way out from under. That nothing can be done to changes one’s circumstances and provide a better life for their children. Here at the Kitchen@812, with the help and visionary leadership of the BDC, they have created an entrepreneurial culture to nurture the culinary dreams of those seeking a better life through hard work. And don’t be fooled by the idea that life in the food industry is an easy one. One doesn’t just need talent with a spatula or a handful of great family recipes. This is an industry that requires dedication, drive, and oftentimes an ability to go without sleep or much pay. The hours are long, and the profit-margins slim. It is perhaps the riskiest, and at the same time most-fulfilling of industries. When done correctly, with a proper understanding of the intricacies of the business, it can at the same time be one of the most rewarding enterprises a person can undertake. And that is exactly what the Kitchen@812 and the BDC want to provide, “access to industry information, business education and support, and an affordable commercial kitchen.” All the tools necessary to make those culinary dreams a practical reality for deserving entrepreneurs.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xtK0RDWbuY4/T9QusvfMcSI/AAAAAAAAC8I/tlmr9d460hM/s1600/sm.Patrick.Robertson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xtK0RDWbuY4/T9QusvfMcSI/AAAAAAAAC8I/tlmr9d460hM/s320/sm.Patrick.Robertson.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The evening's<br />
King of the Kitchen!<br />
Chef Patrick Robertson<br />
of Pappas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Since 1995, the Business Development Center or “BDC” <em>“believes that small businesses are vital to a thriving community. As a nonprofit agency, we are committed to helping entrepreneurs open and operate successful businesses. Our clients, primarily low-income, minority, and women entrepreneurs, benefit from individualized services including business consulting, training, and assistance in securing financing. We believe that by strengthening local businesses, you create job opportunities and empower families – changing lives one business at a time.” </em><br />
<br />
I couldn’t have said it better myself.<br />
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<br />
PROJECT DETAILS:<br />
<br />
Project Need<br />
Kitchen@812, the Business Development Center’s newest project, is designed to help individuals attain economic self-sufficiency through entrepreneurship in the food industry.<br />
<br />
Working in communities with high levels of unemployment and low household incomes, an entrepreneurial culture of residents seeking economic opportunities for their families has emerged. Oftentimes, many families depend on “informal” ventures or part-time self-employment as a means to supplement their household income. For many, these opportunities are found in the food industry. In order to operate a successful food business and increase their self-sufficiency, aspiring food entrepreneurs need access to industry information, business education and support, and an affordable commercial kitchen – three key ingredients recommended by successful food business incubation programs throughout the country.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Kitchen@812 Components<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfy1EBD96hcDELgwfO4Oa3AQZvqbPdtWOCkKEPeAwttmheDYPemHWIU3EY5DBLIM5hS8O4Bv5KFhxLUW5we8-zeuJxAPy3_3QO0zXsoi1z5luUNwmMk17hbc3ApNfd19cnJDK98wpJRjXA/s1600/sm.cakesbyclaudia.4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfy1EBD96hcDELgwfO4Oa3AQZvqbPdtWOCkKEPeAwttmheDYPemHWIU3EY5DBLIM5hS8O4Bv5KFhxLUW5we8-zeuJxAPy3_3QO0zXsoi1z5luUNwmMk17hbc3ApNfd19cnJDK98wpJRjXA/s320/sm.cakesbyclaudia.4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desserts courtesy<br />
of<br />
Cakes by Claudia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our food industry support programs provide participants with the information and resources necessary to effectively launch a food business through four key components:<br />
<br />
Business Incubator: Kitchen@812 is a new shared-use commercial kitchen facility that provides aspiring food entrepreneurs access to cooking equipment, storage space, and culinary training.<br />
<br />
Specialty Food Training: The training component covers essential business topics and critical industry information to help participants assess their readiness and commitment to a new food venture.<br />
<br />
Individualized Assistance: Through one-on-one services, the BDC helps entrepreneurs launch a formal venture and also facilitates access to new markets and business opportunities.<br />
<br />
Scholarship Program: Because start-up capital is a key issue for entrepreneurs, scholarships are provided to a select group of training program graduates that are ready and prepared to launch their businesses. These entrepreneurs will have access to an average of 3 months of kitchen use as they work to develop their products and customer base.<br />
<br />
Project Participants<br />
The BDC targets its services to primarily low-income adults seeking to start or expand their small businesses in Contra Costa County. In 2011 alone, 87% of the BDC’s clients were minorities, 73% were low-income, and 43% were women.<br />
<br />
- Individuals interested in scholarship opportunities should contact Kitchen@812 at 510-327-9466The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-40965779261641715652012-05-09T22:07:00.003-07:002012-05-09T22:11:07.978-07:00HAVEN - Oakland: Memories are Fleeting <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hQt12Cx4zc8/T6dPbG7hnJI/AAAAAAAAC5g/obUjg6esgSo/s1600/sm.Bak.Calif.Haven.5.3.12+017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hQt12Cx4zc8/T6dPbG7hnJI/AAAAAAAAC5g/obUjg6esgSo/s320/sm.Bak.Calif.Haven.5.3.12+017.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday Candle(s)<br />
and<br />
Baked "California"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The other night I took my mother to Haven for her birthday. Haven is one of Oakland’s newest restaurants, the latest in Daniel Patterson’s glittering string of eateries in the East Bay. I’d been to Plum and Plum Bar (both dynamic and delicious). Hearing good reports from friends, I was dying to check Haven out for myself and mom’s big day seemed the perfect opportunity. We met my parents there, as my youngest daughter, the Wandering Lawyer back from Rome, was kind enough to bring them to the restaurant to meet us for an early repast.<br />
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The BH and I were early, but they let us in a bit before opening and allowed us to be seated at the bar. We had cocktails. The BH sampled a Rum Punch and I partook of a lovely little Tequila concoction. Well, mescal actually. They were complex and inventive. The perfect beginning to a great meal.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5_qOf90y0-Q/T6dPiC4S82I/AAAAAAAAC6E/Q2B8SqbsIEg/s1600/sm.beet.Haven.5.3.12+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5_qOf90y0-Q/T6dPiC4S82I/AAAAAAAAC6E/Q2B8SqbsIEg/s200/sm.beet.Haven.5.3.12+009.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beet Salad</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The balance of our party arrived promptly at five and we were shown to a lovely corner table. After a moment of the "who sits where" dance, we began to peruse the menu. Shortly after that we were brought beautiful warm, golden rolls. The chef at Haven is a young woman by the name of Kim Alter. I’d already tasted her cooking, having experienced a pork feast at Plum some time back designed to be a preview of Haven’s offerings. I like the new feature of "pop ups" and "guest chefs" that many restaurants provide. Evenings featuring talented cooks who have yet to land their own establishments, or chefs whose restaurants are some distance away, allow patrons to experience their food artistry without the additional travel and expensive hotel bills. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kRw1pe7pioo/T6dPmntf7aI/AAAAAAAAC6U/1JK8XkDOMzM/s1600/sm.mussels.Haven.5.3.12+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kRw1pe7pioo/T6dPmntf7aI/AAAAAAAAC6U/1JK8XkDOMzM/s200/sm.mussels.Haven.5.3.12+010.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Mussels in Broth</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We ordered, and soon were presented with all manner of delicacies. The WL received a lovely pile of fresh smoked pasta, which had been prepared in-house, and sprinkled with pancetta. </div>
I got the most incredible presentation of fresh beets, with hints of chili, toasted almonds and these chocolate laced "chips," creative <i>and</i> delicious. I adore beets and these were spectacular. The BH had his favorite, a heaping bowl of mussels in a fabulous garlicy broth. So far, so good. Sooo good. <br />
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There were many choices on the menu, and we had deliberated over just what to get. We ended up with a selection of three of the mains between us all, as several of our party went with the "Chicken & Biscuits." I had the Roast Pork and the BH ordered the Bavette. Simple descriptions for very complex dishes. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfBorUfzK27na8VKSNAdosF1eG_iZBWt31g6ZDqFZO7NYNQJcWfb9i0nw49BhrynJOiHxHMOtzrSrpg-qd8cfX0ZDKm4BV9nYnZ0PuWTCQXjJc55wgg8j_GqotMaNwVfjxampzhCnMKNs/s1600/sm.Chicken.top.Haven.5.3.12+014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfBorUfzK27na8VKSNAdosF1eG_iZBWt31g6ZDqFZO7NYNQJcWfb9i0nw49BhrynJOiHxHMOtzrSrpg-qd8cfX0ZDKm4BV9nYnZ0PuWTCQXjJc55wgg8j_GqotMaNwVfjxampzhCnMKNs/s320/sm.Chicken.top.Haven.5.3.12+014.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Chicken & Biscuits</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I’ll start with the Chicken & Biscuits, since it was a crowd favorite. Chef Alter has designed the perfect meal here. Lovely breasts of chicken that arrived smelling like Christmas dinner. Perhaps the most aromatic dish I’ve ever been served. It was delicious. A hint of lemon to balance the rich flavors in the dish. The meat was moist and toothsome and the biscuits were joyful. </div>
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My Roast Pork was likewise moist, the dish itself a study in contrasts. The lean white meat of the pork was accompanied by a crispy slab of caramelized pork belly, dripping fat and flavor equally. A smattering of crispy fried pig’s ears, fresh cold greens, and cauliflower rounded out the flavors. It was perfection on a plate. The fat of the pork belly with the smooth white meat were together a marvelous mouth of food. I’d also ordered my new favorite side, pan-fried brussel sprouts, brown and crunchy and magical. I adore this new preparation of my once most loathed adversary. As a child, the brussel sprout loomed up at me on the plate, bitter and vile, a foodstuff that g-d had certainly developed to taunt me. Who could have imagined they would become the stuff of dreams? </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7RG4JOrramyaA5MUoFdrAZLOqUYQgBX4y-eOpoz2HmCbMIVnl6ujZ4nq_yIZ31dz5fPsUW6Lgekcl_9qpI21cArlHn-UrNkMtCFwkM9zZ7g1ytr3EfQzaYSIB9UrDSA1VyaFctgYKo2o/s1600/sm.pork.Haven.5.3.12+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7RG4JOrramyaA5MUoFdrAZLOqUYQgBX4y-eOpoz2HmCbMIVnl6ujZ4nq_yIZ31dz5fPsUW6Lgekcl_9qpI21cArlHn-UrNkMtCFwkM9zZ7g1ytr3EfQzaYSIB9UrDSA1VyaFctgYKo2o/s200/sm.pork.Haven.5.3.12+011.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roast Pork, Pork Belly<br />
& Ear Chips</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Lastly I sampled my husband’s bavette. Tender strips of steak, cooked beautifully pink, so tender the Chef has added texture by pairing the meat with fresh fried potato chips. The sprinkling of greens a nice cool balance to the warm meat as it hits the tongue. I do love a thoughtful bite of food.<br />
<br />
It was Mom’s birthday after all, so what better excuse to order desserts? We had three between us. Mom and Dad shared an imaginative take on baked Alaska. They call it Baked California, and it’s a pile of beautiful merengue atop house-made ice cream. A smear of avocado gives the plate it’s California touch. Tasty.<br />
<br />
I had a slice of the banana and caramel concoction, delightfully punched up with whiskey and rum. Slices of banana with caramel grilled onto the surface, sitting on a sort of a stiff pudding cake affair, with a sauce of boozed up sugar. Booze, sugar and fruit, it all reminded me in the best possible way of the flavors of a New Orleans bananas foster. Yum.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-auLkm7_QG7A/T6dPdEdIDyI/AAAAAAAAC5s/fQC5yh2mBJQ/s1600/sm.banana.dessert.Haven.5.3.12+019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-auLkm7_QG7A/T6dPdEdIDyI/AAAAAAAAC5s/fQC5yh2mBJQ/s320/sm.banana.dessert.Haven.5.3.12+019.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banana Caramel madness!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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BH is a registered choc-a-holic, so he had the Chocolate. Perfect name, since all he ever does when looking at a dessert menu is look for the word. This made his decision SO much easier. This was a dense cake, made crunchy with hazelnut and covered in a dark sauce that could only have been made of the marvelous cacao as well. Chocolate with chocolate with more chocolate. He smiled and consumed every last bite. We were sated, and happy. And then I began to think...</div>
<br />
Memories are beautiful things. They are the stuff of this blog. Pages and pages of my recounted reminiscences of lovely meals spent with even lovelier people. They are gifts life gives us to carry us forward. They are the pillars we lean on in times of sadness. Some last a lifetime, others are fleeting, but together they make up the fabric of our lives. <br />
<br />
As the meal came to a close, and we all pushed away from our seats with our tummies full and our heads a little foggy with imbibed spirits, I couldn’t help but recognize a sad truth. My Step-dad. He’s been suffering from Altzheimers for a few years now, so his memories are being taken from him in ever-increasing numbers. He is visibly slowed now, and often confused. Slowly and persistently, this terrible disease is removing from his life that which I hold most dear. What must it be like to lose the gift of recalling a favorite shared moment? The recollection of a smile from a loved one fading into oblivion? I began to grow sentimental, and was momentarily saddened by the thought of his losing recall of those things that are the threads that bind us to those we love, shared experiences. It broke my heart a bit. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LfFg8eV140I/T6dPkO7uTzI/AAAAAAAAC6M/I_qBVYrYKEc/s1600/sm.choc.desset.Haven.5.3.12+019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LfFg8eV140I/T6dPkO7uTzI/AAAAAAAAC6M/I_qBVYrYKEc/s200/sm.choc.desset.Haven.5.3.12+019.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But we aren’t quite there yet. He’s still with us, still telling his famous jokes and stories. Sometimes he tells them more than once, but we all laugh just as loud the second time. That’s the only gift we can give him at this point. The only way to combat such a disease is to compensate. To make more memories, to live in the moments that we have, and to be his collective memory for as long as we can. We can still share a meal. We can still recall and repeat for him that which he can no longer summon for himself. And so we do.<br />
<br />
When I suggest to my readers that they should make a memory, perhaps now they won’t hesitate. I strongly suggest to all, that you not wait until a tomorrow you may not have to experience something you may wish to enjoy. Every day when you break bread, look across the table and be grateful. For the faces that smile back at you while they are still there as you enjoy a meal.<br />
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My advice today is to enjoy it at Haven. Chef Alter’s grasp of the perfect repast is significant, and Matt Tinder is no slouch at designing treats for those with a sweet tooth. Check it out. Make some memories of your own.<br />
<br />
Haven<br />
44 Webster Street<br />
Oakland, California 94612<br />
(510) 663-4440 <br />
<a href="http://www.havenoakland.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">www.havenoakland.com</span></u></a> <br />
Chef: Kim Alter<br />
Pastry Chef: Matt TinderThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-35960921334580061412012-04-24T22:54:00.001-07:002012-04-24T22:54:29.850-07:00NEW ORLEANS: The City Where Care is Forgotten - Part One: Doing the Big Easy Dance <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglple3j9y7gzNsWjLRTwqU2gRocHUhY65MOtADGLmsfcMvPGzdW_YSI3DR4JRamgYF7PEY2tD4QnIGyU4y8XyVAUIhHWe3dj0mDH-AgqXbs9vvPohFM2JdMgaVUoS167nC4UpHn0heV1du/s1600/sm.Bloody.Stanley..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglple3j9y7gzNsWjLRTwqU2gRocHUhY65MOtADGLmsfcMvPGzdW_YSI3DR4JRamgYF7PEY2tD4QnIGyU4y8XyVAUIhHWe3dj0mDH-AgqXbs9vvPohFM2JdMgaVUoS167nC4UpHn0heV1du/s200/sm.Bloody.Stanley..jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bloody Mary<br />
at Restaurant Stanley</td></tr>
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My sandals catch in the cracks of the uneven sidewalks, even though I’m walking slowly. The wind blows in gusts that tug at my shade hat like invisible fingers, causing me to cup my free hand over my head to keep it on. My other hand is clutching my "to geaux" cup, but I am successful in maintaining my shade, as the sun is bright. My skin feels covered in what can only be described as dusty butter. I am sticky with the cling of powdered cobblestone and Mississippi mud. It is as though the mud-butter <i>is</i> my skin, and I think for a moment that I may never feel clean again. The air here is heavy, so the breeze off the river that follows me down Decatur is a welcome one.</div>
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I’m a bit unsteady on my feet. Perhaps it’s the "jungle juice" we got from the vendor at Jackson Square. Iced, fruity comfort (laced with Everclear) to fend off the hot spring sun of New Orleans. Several sips and I no longer mind the heat. In fact, my mood is spectacular. That’s the magic of this place. There’s a "to geaux" cup for everything, even worry, in the "City that Care Forgot."</div>
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We arrived for Quarter Fest on Thursday afternoon, and after rapidly checking into our room at the Place d’Armes, were off to catch a set by <span style="color: purple;"><strong><em>Amanda Shaw</em></strong></span>, a red-headed Louisiana teen who plays cajun fiddle. In fact, she plays it very, very well. Walking back toward the river, a now familiar journey that signals our arrival we pass the gates at Jackson Square, which are festooned with an abundance of colorful local art. Like the entrance to Disneyland, this spot connotes for me a passage. From my daily life to something more personal, a place that welcomes me with open arms, and brings my spirit immediately to a place of inner peace. Where the people are convivial, the music is abundant and the food (oh the food) is plentiful, and always good. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4x6tbgtX5fw/T5eGVeGnypI/AAAAAAAAC3c/MVrtLOPk1GE/s1600/sm.beignets.DuMonde.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4x6tbgtX5fw/T5eGVeGnypI/AAAAAAAAC3c/MVrtLOPk1GE/s200/sm.beignets.DuMonde.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beignets<br />
at Cafe DuMonde</td></tr>
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Bright canvases, their colors the vibrant primaries in a box of melted crayons, evoke images of cast-off mardi gras beads sparkling in the Southern sun. Depicting mostly musicians, familiar street scenes (and signs), the paintings are displayed along the fence with a determined brand of New Orleans abandon. There to be enjoyed, but also purchased, as indicated by the hand-lettered placards requesting "no pictures, please" to remind the visitor that such sales are the sole means for the artists here to make their living. Taking a picture is like stealing a canvas. The sign translates "A little respect, if you will, traveler." The many fortune-tellers that line St. Anne bark their services with various levels of intensity at passers by. "Let me tell your fortune, if I’m not a hundred percent accurate, it’s on me," a bearded man in a blue shirt, fisherman cap and shorts shouts at me with a crooked, cigarette-stained smile. I smile in response. I think to myself if you only knew. In another life I told fortunes. "I’d rather not know how the rest plays out, but thank you!" I cheerfully respond. He smiles and wishes me good day. There are musicians. Clowns. A magician with small children crowded around him. So much talent. Like a traveling circus, no two shows alike at any one time, but many I have seen before, and I am sure, will see again. They crowd together to fill the open space beside the park. A large sign now proclaims "No traffic after January 2012. Strictly enforced." It’s new. I can’t imagine how they ever let traffic through all the people, but apparently the City just gave up. Or gave in. To itself. To a part of its identity.<br />
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By the time I reached the stage <span style="color: black;"><strong><em>Amanda </em></strong>and her band</span> were performing on I felt like I should have reached Uptown already. Or at least the Garden Distrist. It was the far end of the River Walk, almost to the Casino, but our jet lagged feet felt every step. Until we were we at the stage and she began to play. There’s something in the music here that makes the feet move. You see it everywhere. They dance. The music starts somewhere and people’s feet move as though they all wore a pair of magic red slippers, but there is no force. No fear. Only joy. I had it too. The fiddle started and I began to dance. The reality began to sink in. I was back in the Big Easy. And it was time to eat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V4WCgX_voNU/T5eGU3lZI6I/AAAAAAAAC3I/1H5UGPNIcmk/s1600/sm.BBQ.shrimp.Muriels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V4WCgX_voNU/T5eGU3lZI6I/AAAAAAAAC3I/1H5UGPNIcmk/s200/sm.BBQ.shrimp.Muriels.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BBQ Shrimp <br />
at Muriel's Jackson Square</td></tr>
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The first place we stopped was not our usual Coops. We were tired and there was a very long line. So we walked back down towards the hotel and tried <b><span style="color: blue;">Muriel’s</span></b>, which though smack in the middle of the quarter, is actually a decent restaurant. We ordered drinks, of course. After all, we were in New Orleans. A <b>hurricane</b> and a <b>brandy milk punch</b>. For appetizers, we started with Muriel’s specialty, a <b>goat cheese and crawfish crepe</b>. I also had a lovely <b>blackened catfish</b> covered in perfectly sweet, moist blue crab. The BH had ::drum roll:: a plate of beautiful <b>barbequed shrimp</b>. I’ve had beautiful versions of these dishes elsewhere, but frankly, they just don’t taste the same anywhere else. <br />
After our meal, we wandered down to the river, our annual pilgrimage to <b><span style="color: blue;">Café du Monde</span>.</b> There is no better way to polish off a meal of spicy Southern food than with a little fat fried dough and some cane sugar. <b>Beignets</b> are steaming hot puff-pillows of sugary perfection. They should be their own food group.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7NPGKNZSTO8/T5eGXLknfbI/AAAAAAAAC4A/cDWU8tAODJg/s1600/sm.meatplate.Cure.Nola.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7NPGKNZSTO8/T5eGXLknfbI/AAAAAAAAC4A/cDWU8tAODJg/s320/sm.meatplate.Cure.Nola.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charcuterie<br />
at Cure Nola</td></tr>
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The next morning was Quarter Fest, so we needed to eat and hit the road. We didn’t have to rise early, since our first show was <strong><span style="color: purple;"><em>Irene Sage’s tribute to Coco Robichheaux</em></span></strong>. If you know where to go in the city, eating well can done efficiently, even without a reservation. We made a bee-line to <b><span style="color: blue;">Stanley</span></b> and hit just after breakfast and before the lunch rush. They don’t take reservations, but they serve the same menu until closing, so nothing was lost by going just at 11:30. We breezed to a table and I had my annual <b>Breaux Bridge Benedict</b>. It may be the prettiest breakfast dish on the planet, and it tastes as good as it looks. This delectable concoction is a mashup of Charlie T’s Boudin sausage, some smoked ham, served with a perfect gravy of creole hollandaise and American cheese, set within the puffiest flaky bread towers on g-d’s earth. With this feast I had my first <b>Bloody Mary</b>, which in the south always comes with pickled peppers and loads of spice. After we ate, we hit <i><strong><span style="color: purple;">Irene Sage’s</span></strong> </i>set right on time. It was set for 2:15 and amazingly the acts were starting on time this year. We were able to stay almost to the end before hitting <i><strong><span style="color: purple;">MyNameIsJohnMichael</span></strong></i> who was playing at the Mint at the other end of town, where Decatur collides with the sea of sound that is Frenchman Street. Hang a right to No. Peters and there’s the Mint, with it’s lovely stages on the grass, the smaller crowds and the best views of the stage. When we got there, we managed to catch the end of <i><strong><span style="color: purple;">Cosimo Effect</span></strong></i> a great little cajun band whose music again set my feet to tapping. I pulled into the park for an <b>Abita Purple Haze</b> and settled into the grass for some music. What a spectacular day that was, and we’d been in New Orleans less than 24 hours. Life was Big Easy good.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy82gFV4z1AlBjKGyhLEC1l_XcJy__8intJXhhZgIuvz4DoTuR61Yue0ngbmSmlNSKVvWnaweXEhchWz3ALBD4bK-lDIWbVkVlF693g7kz8p3nvHeT-1zsIscWF5RhqVna612WQybDOdVZ/s1600/sm.foie.Galatoires.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy82gFV4z1AlBjKGyhLEC1l_XcJy__8intJXhhZgIuvz4DoTuR61Yue0ngbmSmlNSKVvWnaweXEhchWz3ALBD4bK-lDIWbVkVlF693g7kz8p3nvHeT-1zsIscWF5RhqVna612WQybDOdVZ/s320/sm.foie.Galatoires.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seared Foie<br />
at Galatoire's</td></tr>
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After a nice afternoon siesta, we headed to <b><span style="color: blue;">Cure</span></b>, a sleek new hipster joint uptown, at the recommendation of @Mr_Cocktail, master of Tales of the Cocktail. When the Quarter is crowded and music schedules prevent the tight-schedule of reservation, it’s good to know a few locals. Cure is primarily a wine bar, but don’t let that turn you away if you’re in need of a stronger libation, as the mixology here is superb. Their full menu of small plates the perfect foil for our burgeoning appetites, we ordered three: the <b>Charcuterie Platter, Valdeon & Tomato Salad </b>and some <b>Bacon & Bleu Cheese Tartines.</b> <b></b>It was definitely the <b>Cure</b>. Delicious and fulfilling. After eating, we took a cab back to Frenchman Street. There’s always music at Frenchman, and much of it can be experienced for a only small cover. (But if you enjoy the set, please tip the band). We’ve enjoyed various artists at Snug Harbor, the Blue Nile, and d.b.a. There is always something that appeals at one of them, and tonight was no exception. We quickly discovered <i><strong><span style="color: purple;">Kermit Ruffins</span></strong> </i>was blowing at Blue Nile. The traveler in line before us wanted to know if the act within was "Dixieland," and when the attendant said no, he moved on. We were amused and gleefully turned over our ten bucks each. More room for us. Once in the Nile, Kermit shouted his famous "All Aboooaard!" and the party was on. The whole place was rocking and rolling to the strains of jazzed up standards and some of Kermit’s original pieces. Our own private dance party. And dancing has never been— So. Much. Fun.<br />
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Saturday morning brought with it another perfect day. Sunshine sky, the temperature hovering just around 80 and the humidity tolerable. This time of year is usually fairly turbulent, thunderstorms and sun, sun and thunderstorms. But Saturday was picture perfect. We were off to see <i><strong><span style="color: purple;">Kelsey Mae</span><u> </u></strong></i>at the Mint. Folk music fills the air as I sit on the grass, and stare up at the bright sun shining through the lush Louisiana trees. Kelsey sings a song about trees and sunshine. I drink an Abita, I dance, I repeat. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F_cafJSkzrk/T5eGWwJZV3I/AAAAAAAAC30/FU6Nkoka7Xc/s1600/sm.bleu.cheese.bacon.tartine.Cure.Nola.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F_cafJSkzrk/T5eGWwJZV3I/AAAAAAAAC30/FU6Nkoka7Xc/s200/sm.bleu.cheese.bacon.tartine.Cure.Nola.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bleu Cheese & Bacon Tartine<br />
at Cure Nola</td></tr>
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With a nice break before we were scheduled to check out our next selected act, we dropped by the famous <b><span style="color: blue;">Johnny’s Po-Boys</span></b>. My younger generation had checked them out on our last visit and reported that they were indeed all their illustrious reputation would imply. After about fifteen minutes in line, we were able to place our order. The menu is a bit confusing, as it is extensive and questions are greeted with something between disdain and boredom. Most of the older "fast food" places in New Orleans are like this. The employees don’t seem terribly happy to be dealing with so many tourists, but they turn out a beautiful product, so who cares? It’s not a white table cloth kind joint and the price reflect that. We ordered the <b>Muffaletta</b> and the <b>Sausage Po-boy</b> and both were delicious, tho the portions were impossibly large. What makes a po-boy special is the bread, the meat and the toppings, otherwise it just another sandwich. Their bread is fresh and warm, their meat all home made or locally-sourced, produce is properly ripe and the olive "dressing" tapenade used on their muffelata is the most flavorful version of this ingredient I’ve tasted to date. Well worth the wait, folks.<br />
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After a day in the sun we have learned a valuable lesson. Drink a lot of water to offset the alcohol and the heat. Dehydration is a bitch in the humidity of the South. A short nap can’t hurt either. On our way back to our room, we stopped at Jackson Square to catch Irvin Mayfield. This bandstand is a little harder to negotiate than some of the others, as it is tucked away in a far corner and requires threading through the hordes of people to find a place on the pathway where the musicians can be seen. But the best part of festivals is that one can hear the music, even if the view isn’t perfect. We didn’t really mind the crowds, as somehow they make the Square come alive. All of us together, listening to music and walking on history. Magical stuff.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5DMiQpIWkHy1rBKQUQa_XEC63OCQzawc0zuybGSikza1cr7epcIBif-36CyDeIloi-LIQpx6YWcI2mvCHA5x6WM7KBFS3ncMU_99y-WnbhWyK1YiguJvpfB4sFnZ51TX9egBk5R4kyVP/s1600/sm.scallop.maque.choux.Marigny.Brasserie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5DMiQpIWkHy1rBKQUQa_XEC63OCQzawc0zuybGSikza1cr7epcIBif-36CyDeIloi-LIQpx6YWcI2mvCHA5x6WM7KBFS3ncMU_99y-WnbhWyK1YiguJvpfB4sFnZ51TX9egBk5R4kyVP/s200/sm.scallop.maque.choux.Marigny.Brasserie.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scallops & Corn Maque Choux<br />
at Marigny Brasserie</td></tr>
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That evening we were again on our own in a crowded Quarter seeking food without reservations. My plan had been to head out of the Quarter during Fest, but I wondered if Frenchman was far enough away from the crush to find an early dinner. It was. I’d heard good things about the <b><span style="color: blue;">Marigny Brasserie</span></b>, and they had a table. We walked over to the edge of the Treme and were seated promptly. We shared an appetizer, <b>Scallops with Corn Maque Choux</b> and I had an <b>Angel Hair Pasta with Blackened Chicken.</b> Food lived up to its rep. Solid, well prepared and delicious. Bar made nice cocktails, what more can a girl ask?<br />
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Sunday morning already. Fest was ending all too soon, but at least it was time for our planned brunch at <b><span style="color: blue;">Galatoires</span></b>. When in Rome... well, okay New Orleans, ya gotta do one of the big three. <b>Arnaud’s</b>, <b>Galatoire’s</b> or <b>Antoine’s</b> at least for cocktails, although my recommendation would be to check out a classic Southern jazz brunch. Music, champagne and something with eggs. Galatoire’s has racks for the men’s hats and still requires suit jackets for men, ties optional. I haven’t seen the "jacket closet" in a restaurant since I was a kid and Man Men was for real. Their seared <b>Foie Gras was </b>to die for. And yes, I had foie gras for Breakfast. See above. I’m in New Orleans, y’all.<br />
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Sunday brought both the end, and the best, of Fest, a performance by local favorite <i><strong><span style="color: purple;">Susan Cowsill</span></strong></i>. Her voice carries out over the Mississippi as she sings love songs to the City that claimed her brother in ‘05, another victim of Katrina’s raging floods. They never found his body, so she sings to the River that took him, and I swear the Big Muddy answers back. "I've got him, girl. He's with me now." the River whispers in the breeze that blows her hair across her face as she sings. The thing that broke her heart now cradles her brother in its tides. It's Circle of Life thing. Susan's songs reflect an understanding of that circle that is at the same time heart-wrenching and uplifting.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ogOiyN10HRg/T5eGUxPYGiI/AAAAAAAAC3E/dQJEZCBa00Y/s1600/sm.BreauxBridge.Stanley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ogOiyN10HRg/T5eGUxPYGiI/AAAAAAAAC3E/dQJEZCBa00Y/s320/sm.BreauxBridge.Stanley.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breaux Bridge Benedict<br />
at Restaurant Stanley</td></tr>
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We closed our Sunday with a trip to <b><span style="color: blue;">Upperline</span></b> for a late dinner. It’s been on my list since my last visit, where the waiter at <b>Pascale’s Manale</b> said it was his personal favorite in New Orleans. I always listen to the locals for food recommendations and this place was a great find. Joanne, the owner, makes the rounds to every table, checking on her guests. Part Grandmother, part Queen, Joanne embodies Southern Hospitality, but in a lovely folksy, Berkeley sort of way. A former costumer herself, we exchanged stories of shows we’d done and life upon (or in the wings of) the wicked stage. Her chef is a master, and I was treated to another magnificent <b>Foie Gras</b>, a <b>Beautiful Fillet of Drum</b> that blew my mind, and several stolen bites of the BH’s immaculate <b>Sweet Potatoes</b>. Sweet, succulent and butter they melted on my tongue in the most pleasant sensation of fluffy, spicy goodness. My BH adored them, and he just doesn’t eat orange food. We agonized over the formidable dessert menu, finally deciding on simple. BH had the <b>Sundae Eugene</b> and I had the <b>Bread Pudding with Caramel</b>. Have you ever had bread pudding? It’s the best of the sweet tooth comfort food, and like so many things, it's better in New Orleans. Both desserts were simple in their elegance, and completely satisfying. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyN8DM3VBA2ImN47ybJuVGyUC5tRWhJzv1qwmCKNLAWrs5DDTqKfq7Abfr4iyVITppdeFUUr2KCelb5ueu4vV-UWrBTAx9gbv5GvixwsWnfoiF9XxWmrPSszzoKM6keaAV9dXxioc5fXNk/s1600/sm.seared.foie.Upperline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyN8DM3VBA2ImN47ybJuVGyUC5tRWhJzv1qwmCKNLAWrs5DDTqKfq7Abfr4iyVITppdeFUUr2KCelb5ueu4vV-UWrBTAx9gbv5GvixwsWnfoiF9XxWmrPSszzoKM6keaAV9dXxioc5fXNk/s200/sm.seared.foie.Upperline.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seared Foie Gras<br />
at Upperline</td></tr>
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We caught a cab back to the hotel and collapsed on our beds, exhausted after four marvelous days in the sun. Fest was over, but our visit to New Orleans had just begun. Now for the serious eating...</div>
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—end of Part One.<br />
Below are the addresses of the restaurants at which we ate during Quarter Fest. (Part Two coming soon. I promise)<br />
<b><br />
Cure<br />
4905 Freret Street <br />
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New Orleans, LA 70115 </div>
(504) 302-2357 <br />
<a href="http://www.curenola.com/">http://www.curenola.com/</a> <br />
<b><br />
Galatoire’s</b>209 Bourbon Street <br />
New Orleans, LA <br />
504.525.2021 (No reservations for Sunday Brunch)<br />
<a href="http://www.galatoires.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">http://www.galatoires.com</span></u></a> <br />
<b><br />
Johnny’s Po-Boy</b>511 St. Louis St <br />
New Orleans, LA 70130 <br />
(504) 524-8129 <br />
<a href="http://www.johnnyspoboy.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">http://www.johnnyspoboy.com</span></u></a><br />
<b><br />
Marigny Brasserie</b>640 Frenchman Street <br />
New Orleans, CA 70116 <br />
(504) 945-4472 <br />
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<a href="http://www.marignybrasserie.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">http://www.marignybrasserie.com</span></u></a> </div>
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Muriel’s Jackson Square</div>
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801 Chartres St </div>
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New Orleans, LA 70116 </div>
(504) 568-1885 <br />
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<a href="http://www.muriels.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">http://www.muriels.com</span></u></a> </div>
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Restaurant Stanley @<br />
547 St Ann St <br />
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New Orleans, LA 70116 </div>
(504)587-0093 <br />
Chef: Scott Boswell <br />
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<a href="http://www.stanleyrestaurant.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">www.stanleyrestaurant.com</span></u></a></div>
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<strong>Upperline Restaurant</strong></div>
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1413 Upperline St</div>
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New Orleans, LA 70115</div>
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(504) 891-9822</div>
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<a href="http://www.upperline.com/"><u><span style="color: blue;">http://www.upperline.com</span></u></a> </div>
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</b>Jackson Square </b> New OrleansThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-76146534132975556052012-04-11T14:56:00.001-07:002012-04-25T16:03:40.159-07:00BELLANICO Restaurant & Wine Bar - A Wine Enthusiast’s Mecca<br />
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Are you one of those people who just doesn’t feel confident discussing wine? I know I am. I never fancied myself much of a wine connoisseur. It’s overwhelming. There is so much information to be digested, so many variations in the grapes, the weather, the year any particular wine was produced. And don’t get me started on the regions, or for that matter, the various countries. It feels as though if one isn’t a full-time student of wine, one has no business assuming any posture on the beverage. It's not that I haven't enjoyed a glass of good wine in my time, but frankly, other than the way it tastes, I never really understood the mechanisms with which we are supposed to judge its qualities. It wasn’t that people didn’t try to convert me. I had a good friend in the early 80s who would tell me at length about the various wines he had acquired to add to his rather spectacular collection. He would go on at length about what was special in each of them. I will say that those wines he chose to share with me were indeed enjoyable, but it seemed to me that he was a little obsessed. He was talking way over my head. I just couldn’t relate.<br />
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But in the process of tasting his, I learned a little something about what I like in a wine.<br />
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Some time later, while passing Superbowl Sundays with another good friend, I received a “class” in this most complicated of beverages at the hands of a yet another self-professed wine connoisseur. A former colleague of my husband’s who had purchased some acreage in Anderson Valley and had begun to grow his own grapes, this guy had taken things a step further. He had begun to make his own wines. As such, he’d managed to accrue quite a few bottles of rather nicely-aged home-made wine. Opening one was always a bit of an adventure. In the early stages of learning to bottle it, many of the corks were imperfect, causing some of his product to sour. So we would either pop the cork on a bottle of a well-aged and lovely red, or we would find the bottles contents were not potable. The wine we could drink was actually pretty good. The oldest of his stash had the most unusual quality, a sort of buttery, almost dusty softness in the consummation. It’s hard to describe when one is accustomed to younger wines, but a lot of the crispness, the acids I suppose, melt away and leave an almost powdery smooth taste on the palate. I’ve never forgotten how mellow an old red can actually get, though I rarely experience that sensation as old reds generally come with a hefty price tag. I continue to search for an affordable older wine.<br />
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That was decades ago. Now that friend sells those very grapes to local vintners I often see on my grocery story shelves. On any given day, one might go into a wine or liquor store and purchase a bottle produced in the Anderson Valley that is made up of this guy’s grapes. Many of these vintners’s products are considered top of the line. With prices to match.<br />
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Again, learned a little more.<br />
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But I remain overwhelmed every time I look at a shelf full of wines. The necessary knowledge is vast and tackling the understanding of it seems a complicated and impossible task. Maybe it’s because I’m not very math-brained. I absorb things in pictures and flavors, not formulas. Understanding wine seems to me a little too much like being a good chemist. So I wasn’t sure I could relate to those who are so passionate about the details of the vintner. Could relate to people who seem to have a genuine appreciation for the art of making wine. It looked to me a little like trying to learn how they do all those really tough magic tricks. Never seemed worth the effort. That is, until I met Elizabeth Frumusa.<br />
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Our meeting was one of those random twists of fate. I was on the hunt for the next great place to eat in Oakland, someplace I could feature in my blog. Elizabeth and her husband Chris own a lovely little bistro in the Glenview District of Oakland called Bellanico. The other is Apierto in San Francisco’s Potrero Hill District. Glenview is a part of Oaktown I am familiar with, having grown up on Lakeshore. The restaurant is coincidentally located not far from my day job downtown. On the occasion of my first meeting with Elizabeth, my pals and I had ventured up to Bellanico rather late in the lunch hour. Bellanico is a popular destination, so upon arrival we found the place was bustling. No tables. The BH and I are usually fairly determined table-dwellers, but on this occasion our dining partner suggested we try the merits of dining at the bar. Close to the action and wine-glasses easily refilled. Being Irish, it’s his favorite place to be at any given time. So since he was convincing, and bar seats were all that were available, we took it as a sign. We took three seats open at the far end and began to peruse the menu.<br />
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We didn’t know it then, but Elizabeth was behind the bar that day. So it was Elizabeth who served us our lunch, answering our many questions about the various dishes which are all written up in Italian. After we gave her our preferences, she suggested some we should try. We sampled an egg dish called Malfati, a bowl of pasta with spicy tomato sauce and Italian bacon they call “Pepati” and one of the creamiest burratas I have ever tasted. The food here is truly magnificent, but this article is about the wines, so I won’t belabor the point.<br />
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After striking up a conversation (Elizabeth is delightfully forthcoming with information and extremely personable) we learned that she had lived in Italy for some time to study wine and the culture surrounding it. Before quitting to manage the family’s second restaurant, she was also a wine vendor. Well, that settled it. We were definitely having wine with lunch. The look on Elizabeth’s face as she describes a wine in her flawless Italian would have to be described as a “lit from within.” Her enthusiasm is more than infectious. She’s got a gift for describing wines that has a way of captivating the listener. You just have to taste anything she describes. She talks of the grapes grown near fruit trees becoming imbued with the flavors of the fruits. She rattles off names in Italian that sound provocative, mysterious and that carry with them the promise of liquid magic. The best part? She delivers.<br />
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Elizabeth is Italian-American, as am I, so we really hit it off. But liking her is a bonus. I remain impressed by her gift for understanding the grape, and for interpreting each guest’s likes and dislikes into a glass of something they will relish. It is remarkable. So as always, I say, get there yourself. Check out her stash, I can guarantee you won’t regret it.<br />
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Cheers.<br />
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Bellanico<br />
4238 Park Boulevard<br />
Oakland, CA 94602<br />
(510) 336-1180<br />
www.bellanico.netThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-54438680489329901262012-03-17T21:50:00.000-07:002012-03-17T21:50:24.024-07:00BAUMÉ: My dinner at Baumé, or “Please Don’t Eat the Towels”<br />
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The evening began quietly with a drink in a neighborhood bar. The BH and I, discovering quickly that we had arrived too early for our five-thirty reservations at Baumé, ducked into a neighboring Mexican restaurant and bar for a pre-meal cocktail. After checking our watches after every other sip, we decided we’d burned enough time to check again so we trundled off down the street to our destination. This time we were greeted with success, and allowed access to the interior of Baumé, no longer to remain wistfully beyond its doors.<br />
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When we entered the small, inobtrusive building in Palo Alto that houses Baumé Restaurant, we found Chef Bruno Chemel’s establishment it to be beautifully appointed and overtly welcoming. My memory recalls a golden hue, the restaurant’s interiors lit by beams that bounced off the red curtains to warm them to a rosy glow, an effect that suggested to the visitor that they had entered the chambers of a beating heart. But it was the beating heart of a lover engaging in a stolen kiss beneath the shadow that falls under a misty bridge at sunset, not the chaotic red of some tortured teen’s vampire crush fantasy. It set the mood beautifully for another birthday to celebration. My birthday always starts the New Year off right when it begins with a romantic dinner with my own immortal beloved. <br />
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Seated at a secluded table in a small room enclosed within a cocoon of silken draperies, the adventure began with a Kir Royale cocktail. Simple enough, a Kir is a cocktail of fine champagne set off with a hint of Cherry Cassis. At Baumé they make their own “cassis” consisting of fresh currants reduced to a frozen gel stick that slowly dissolves at room temperature into the bubbly liquid. The alchemy began at once to transform the effervescence of my champagne from its natural golden glow to a darker ruby hue, in my mind mimicking the sunrise on a Santa Barbara beach. The perfect mood for making another memory.<br />
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We are unabashed foodies. The excitement and anticipation that builds when one is waiting to be amazed and thrilled by the talents of a chef whose food has yet to be experienced, is always something we allow ourselves to enjoy, and we make no effort to hide our childish glee. The waiter soon brought out a pair of dishes with a single white puff on each. Expecting an amuse bouche, we leaned forward to catch any possible whiff of what was to come. It’s an action as routine as it is familiar, that first bite... They were ready for us. The maitre d’ spoke softly, but firmly and the smile on his face was intriguing. “We ask that you don’t eat this one. They’re towels.” We burst into giggles. Freeze-dried towels? This was a new one, even for us, and we’ve dined at the table of Wylie Dufresne, whose mad genius in molecular gastronomy is legendary, and whose dishes bend the mind to places one would never imagine in the world of edible art. But even Wylie didn’t present us with tiny towels that came with a warning announcement. I found it delightful.<br />
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Moments later, the amuse arrived, and it was eminently edible, a lovely treat to start off our palates for the evenings’ entertainment. And the evening was most certainly entertaining. The meal was one blissful dish after another. I can’t recall all the ingredients perfectly. As every meal is prepared by the chef each evening with the freshest and most unique foodstuffs available to him on any given day, there isn’t a regular set of dishes so even if I were to taunt and tantalize my readers, their own experience would be quite different upon dining at the restaurant on any other evening. <br />
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What one will find if he or she dines at Baumé, is that Bruno Chemel is an artist and food magician. Every mouthful was heavenly, the service delightful and the ambience inviting. Go and check it out for yourself. Make a very special memory of your own. What lingers for me is the experience, the conversation and the incredible talents of Chef Chemel.<br />
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Baumé<br />
201 S. California Ave, Palo Alto, CA 94306<br />
Tel 650.328.8899<br />
info@baumerestaurant.com<br />The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-11473387951681074852012-02-28T20:34:00.001-08:002012-03-06T23:00:54.361-08:00TASTE TV's Spring Chocolate Salon - Fort Mason - 3/4/12<br />
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Spring is around the corner, and with that comes the 6th Annual International CHOCOLATE SALON which will be held at Fort Mason. Instead of cherry blossoms, my thoughts at this time of year turn to always to chocolate. It is the knowledge that I will not be disappointed that brings me back every year. <br />
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TASTE TV's Chocolate Salon is like walking into Willie Wonka’s factory with your own golden ticket. The Olympics for chocolate artisans, this event brings chocolatiers from across the globe to compete. They are there to have their point of view experienced, to promote their businesses and express their passion for making the perfect bite of chocolate. They have all got a unique voice. Some have discovered new ways to incorporate more brilliant color in the shell of a truffle, some are masters of shape, some are alchemists of substance. Others have tried combining spices and ingredients as yet unseen in a chocolate mixture, allowing the attendees to try new recipes at the event, sometimes for the first time. <br />
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These inventive and inspired chefs will be bringing their A game to the Salon. Many of the vendors compose a new generation of earth-conscious entrepreneurs who inspire us by their insistence on using beans from free-trade farms, which along with green technologies are re-inventing the industry as we know it. Some have even gone to great lengths to ensure that the populations of their source countries will share in the profits. <br />
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Many of these chocolate companies are family run, and their generational pride is palpable. Treasured recipes, perfected for decades and passed down through family members are perfected and served up at this elite event— the perfect opportunity for these pioneer chocolatiers to share their recipes with the world. They offer their confections with such genuine enthusiasm that one cannot help but taste it in each truffle, bar and every tiny chip of chocolate. Siblings, cousins, couples and friends have come together to collaborate and along their journey have discovered much, all of it meant to be shared with the world. They are inspiring.<br />
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Offerings feature ingredients sourced from places like Bolivia, Venezuela, and Trinidad; much of it organic. Cacao beans from the hidden forests of the Amazon are processed into treats of remarkable flavor and depth. A myriad of chocolate treats are presented to the public: raw, milk, dark, light, soft, crunchy, even sweet and savory. Among my favorites in the past have been Snake and Butterfly hailing from Campbell, California, Vice Chocolates from Oakland and newcomer Sixth Court Artisan Confections. Amano Artisan’s product is outstanding, and their fair trade program is particularly ambitious in its goal to uplift the humble cacao farmers with whom they do business. Toffee Talk simply makes the most amazing toffee. A basic time-honored treat, it has the perfect chew and is always a pleasure to eat. I have difficulty stopping at one piece, as with one bite, I am six years old again and sitting at my grandmother’s knee. There are so many that I couldn’t possibly list them all here, but take my word for it, there is something here for everyone. Even those who don’t like their candy very sweet.<br />
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Each vendor is seeking a way to make the world a better place: whether by furthering an understanding of where this mystical substance comes from, and what it takes to bring it to table, or just to make the perfect piece of candy. All hope to be elected that year’s reigning Salon Winner, and every year picking a winner gets harder and harder on me, so I can imagine it’s the same for all judges. I am grateful that I have been lucky enough to participate as such for the past several years.<br />
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What will you experience if you attend? Truffles in every color of the rainbow. Bars of every shape and size. Flavors spicy, sweet and savory. The palate is assaulted with it all - coconut, ginger, jalapeno, pineapple, mango, coffee- and it just goes on from there. This is a place where the air is laden with the scent of cacao, and the artisans who have found their muse in this mythical substance of history, have outdone themselves to come up with a new and intriguing variation on ways to reinvent it for the world.<br />
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These photos are from the Fall Chocolate Salon. Enjoy, then I’d suggest you buy a ticket and check it out for yourself. Make a memory of your own.<br />
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These are just a few of the magnificent artists that will populate this affair, among them culinary artisans from across the country and around the world: <i>21st Amendment Brewery, Alquimia Organic Tequila; Amano Artisan Chocolates; Alter Eco Fair Trade Chocolate; Be A Gourmet 25yr old Balsamic Vinegars; Bread Project (non profit); CC Made; Christopher Michael Chocolates; Chuao Chocolatier; Clarine's Florentines; COCOA; CocoTutti; Dandelion Chocolate; David Bacco Chocolatier; Farm Fresh To You; Firehouse Grill and Brewery; Guittard Chocolate Company; Jade Chocolates; Jerk'NPickle artisan beef jerky; Kallari; </i><i>Kika's Treats; La Chatelaine Chocolat Co.; Monterey Chocolate Company; Neo Cocoa; </i><i>NewTree; Nicole Lee Fine Chocolates; Quady Winery; R&B Cellars; Rigolo Café; Saratoga Chocolates; Sixth Course Artisan Confections; Skylake Ranch; Slo Down Wines, Pacific Grove; </i><i>Snake & Butterfly; Socola Chocolatier; TeaRoom Chocolate Company; Toffee Talk; Toffeeology; Truffles in Paradise; Urban Legend Cellars; Vice Chocolates; Victoria Chocolatier; William Dean Chocolates; Winery SF (Treasure Island)</i><br />
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More information can be found at http://sfchocolatesalon2012.eventbrite.com.The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-19122639807384429642012-01-26T21:45:00.000-08:002012-03-06T23:02:15.426-08:00FIFTH FLOOR - Foie Fest 2011 “Twitter” pated by Chef David Bazirgan<br />
Every once in awhile the stars align to bring with them an opportunity. As it so happens, astral chance provided one such gift to my lovely little family over the holidays. I must say that we took full advantage of it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8nCTDKYr3z7SlX6nRuuj0C2AJlUO_ma8_AJkCVBEKQPY-Qe6wxxO9jHkSokhwZ1BftaptfdmUTQpBkAAYN7GXp-xe_8J2VAj6FVzbv8pu_F22OvTOsoEpn70VQWOk6BNEdCvP493DoRX/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252816%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8nCTDKYr3z7SlX6nRuuj0C2AJlUO_ma8_AJkCVBEKQPY-Qe6wxxO9jHkSokhwZ1BftaptfdmUTQpBkAAYN7GXp-xe_8J2VAj6FVzbv8pu_F22OvTOsoEpn70VQWOk6BNEdCvP493DoRX/s320/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252816%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heavenly Oyster</td></tr>
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Twitter is an unusually chaotic form of communicating, but the connections that “tweeting” can form between members various groups of similarly interested people is impressive. For some, the spontaneous voice it fosters can lead one to trouble, for others it can lead to delightful opportunity. It’s all about thinking before you tweet, people. Careless words can fly out into the Twitter-sphere to linger, haunting one with missteps. But a thoughtful query can reward us with a new form of genuine human connection. Some people might toss off a tweet as casually as a hat flies onto a coat rack; but my advice would be to pay a bit more attention. Remember that what is made public remains so in perpetuity. Our comments often land with unexpected affect, especially in the Land of Twitter. <br />
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In my case, a particular Twitter conversation between myself and @theDapperDiner, a fellow foodie particularly astute in where to find great dining, led to the most wondrous of offerings. I’d thrown him a challenge: find me a resto where my daughter could have some yummy foie over her Christmas holiday in the States. Visiting from Rome, Italy, she was in the mood for loads and loads of the soon-to-be-banned substance. @TheDapperDiner responded quickly to my query, mentioning several possibilities. Among his suggestions were Lafitte’s on the Marina and Fifth Floor. As the discussion progressed, @bazsf (aka FF’s New Executive Chef, David Bazirgan) jumped into our twitter thread with an offer to prepare a 12-course Foie Dinner for me and mine. After pinching myself heartily in disbelief at receiving such a generous offer, I discovered I was indeed, awake. So before he had time to reconsider, I responded with an enthusiastic Yes! It was on...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MQ1s3L-dj_s/Tvj3ZWUFScI/AAAAAAAACSM/afhg7_0PMPQ/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252817%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MQ1s3L-dj_s/Tvj3ZWUFScI/AAAAAAAACSM/afhg7_0PMPQ/s200/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252817%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Untweeted Course, Part One: <br />
Seared Foie Gras</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RyoZ3BfMwUg/Tvj2_tZ1ekI/AAAAAAAACSE/mV2S1V2KyzA/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252818%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RyoZ3BfMwUg/Tvj2_tZ1ekI/AAAAAAAACSE/mV2S1V2KyzA/s200/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252818%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Untweeted Course, Part Deux <br />
(Terrine of Foie Gras with Toast)</td></tr>
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A few weeks later, in the dark, wintry cold of California December in San Francisco, we arrived at Fifth Floor. The wait staff appeared green with envy at what we were about to enjoy, mentioning that Chef Baz had been laboring intently over various ways to present the delicacy to his guests. (Pinch self again, at being the actual “guests”) Chef had, indeed, worked up an imaginative and unusual tasting menu that began with an apple cider concoction and ended with foie ice cream and cake! All but one course featuring foie gras (Chef Baz in his wisdom opting to omit the foie from the palate cleanser). <br />
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After the cocktails were brought out by the waitstaff, I looked up to hear the next course presented and did a movie-worthy double take. I was dumbfounded to see that we were being served by Bazirgan himself. That delightful gesture was a thread throughout the evening and I was thrilled. I like to think it was because I’m special, but in reality, he’d just worked up the menu, and may have been the only one he felt could describe his preparations correctly. Whatever his reasons, it made for a very special evening, indeed. We felt like a thrilling combination of family and the judges on Iron Chef, as he showered us with the fruits of his labors. As it happens, Chef Bazirgan live-tweeted the event, so rather than my feeble attempt at reciting the menu, let’s recap in the Chef’s own words:<br />
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<b><u>Tweet one</u>:</b><br />
<b>@bazsf (david bazirgan)</b><br />
<b>Aperitif , foie gras hot toddy http://pic.twitter.com/w93rO5ey</b><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YnQWEKsjJNk/Tvj3pG_I6yI/AAAAAAAACSs/EyvH4gSD1bk/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252826%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YnQWEKsjJNk/Tvj3pG_I6yI/AAAAAAAACSs/EyvH4gSD1bk/s320/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252826%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nantucket Bay Scallops</td></tr>
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An imaginative cocktail that tasted of apple and a hint of buttery foie, it was intriguingly flavored, its heat nicely warming any lingering chill from our brisk walk in the December cold. The fatty richness of the foie was nicely offset by the spices in the beverage. The cocktail reminded me a bit of an apple pie that had been subtly laced with bacon, but the flavor profile was a bit more elegant and complicated than my clumsy description might suggest. It was a lovely way to begin a meal held in the frigid heart of winter.<br />
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<b><u>Tweet two</u>:</b><br />
<b>@bazsf (david bazirgan) </b><br />
<b>First course , island creek oyster, bearnaise glacage, grated foie, grey mullet bottarga http://pic.twitter.com/8k8OYLp3 </b><br />
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Chef Baz prepared each of us a blissful oyster, still in the shell and presented appetizingly on tiny plates, cuddled in their shells and bathing in a blanket of foie-flavored goodness. These single bites of delectable perfection glided creamily over the palate. The perfect opener for our delectable adventure. <br />
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<b><u>Tweet three</u>:</b><br />
<b>@bazsf (david bazirgan) </b><br />
<b>2nd course; winter harvest, foie mousse , pomegranate gastrique , za'atar , walnut http://pic.twitter.com/zG8kScmX </b><br />
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This leafy salad of bitter greens, was crisp and refreshing after the rich and creamy oyster. The wonderfully acidic gastrique of pomegranate, the nutty sesame of the za’atar and walnut all blending into a rewarding flavor profile. And we can’t forget the foie gras mousse. Another hit... what could be next?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0TXVERzv_CI/Tvj4pDje8HI/AAAAAAAACS0/BQYMJ6qmu4A/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252830%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0TXVERzv_CI/Tvj4pDje8HI/AAAAAAAACS0/BQYMJ6qmu4A/s320/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252830%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pheasant Roulade</td></tr>
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<b><u>Tweet four</u>:</b></div>
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<b>@bazsf (david bazirgan) </b></div>
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<b>3rd course Nantucket bays, blood orange gel, sea cress, Vin Jaune foie monte , satsuma http://pic.twitter.com/aC8yf1jc </b></div>
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The tiny Bay scallops were perfectly cooked. The tiny buds of briny fish were complimented beautifully by the richness of the foie, and the acid of the various citrus components added up to culinary magic. </div>
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<b><u>Tweet five</u>:</b></div>
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<b>@bazsf (david bazirgan) </b></div>
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<b>4th course Pheasant roulade, prune, candy caps, crosnes, purple mustard greens, squash gnocchi @FoodAprecianado need a picture posted! </b></div>
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The pheasant was mad good! Rolls of beautifully prepared roulade covered in jus, the greens and the squash another perfect balance. I love a well done bird, and this concoction was particularly toothsome, blending blissfully with the hint of fruit in the prunes... and the tiny gnocchi were killer. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xsv57sKAPqw/Tvj3fxP6NQI/AAAAAAAACSk/s-Ragv8YTYY/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252832%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xsv57sKAPqw/Tvj3fxP6NQI/AAAAAAAACSk/s-Ragv8YTYY/s200/1Foie.Fest.2011+%252832%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Venison</td></tr>
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<b><u>Tweet six</u>:</b></div>
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<b>@bazsf (david bazirgan)</b></div>
<b>5th course Venison Loin, grains of paradise, celeriac, foie powder/espuma , chestnut, pain d'epices </b><b>http://pic.twitter.com/yoHkAX6X</b><br />
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Venison carries with it the flavors of the hunt. The meat’s natural flavor is almost spicy, the elements of the forest the animal consumes forming in alchemic fashion flavors that have always reminded me vaguely of cinnamon. The venison in this dish was so moist that its natural juices melted into a lovely gravy, enhanced by the requisite foie in the foamy espuma. The toasted slice of nut-crusted pain d’epices providing a lovely textured crunch against the toothsome slices of meat. We were getting full, but that’s never stopped us before!<br />
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<strong><u>Tweet seven</u>:</strong><br />
<strong>@bazsf (david bazirgan)</strong><br />
<strong>Dessert ; foie GRAS ice cream lolli, cotton candy, yuzu/ foie gras cake foie gras buttercream , yuzu mousse,Francis Ang http://pic.twitter.com/gSMCx5ey</strong><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ItSZbZSPCjw/Tvj2NbNVgwI/AAAAAAAACRs/OH9PXmwTQNk/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%25287%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ItSZbZSPCjw/Tvj2NbNVgwI/AAAAAAAACRs/OH9PXmwTQNk/s200/1Foie.Fest.2011+%25287%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foie Cotton Candy</td></tr>
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The first of these two dessert treats was a lovely cotton candy dish that was both light as air and fantastically plated. The second was a tiny little cake made with, you guessed it, foie gras. It was rich but not overly sweet, which was good because by this point we were near to bursting. The two desserts were topped off by a platter of fruit gelatins or pate de fruits. Tiny, succulent sugary treats to conclude a magnificent feast. <br />
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As I recount an evening filled with such delicacies, I can’t help but think of the impending ban of foie gras that will hit California this July. Spear-headed by vegetarian/vegan zealots, and mast-headed by several well meaning celebrities, it is a short-sighted and outrageously misplaced law. I respect those who choose not to consume animal proteins, but resent the desire others seem to have to impose their own morality on those around them. The subject is less a debate about the alleged cruelty of foie gras production than it is about the almost religious posturing of people who believe the consumption of any animal protein is immoral. The anti-foie group would outlaw any meat if they could, foie is simply the easiest target because it is a small industry without high- profile lobbyists and a history that is too easily misrepresented or misunderstood. Much of the horrific facts that are presented as truth are, in reality, a fairytale.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3n9RCSPfCHA/Tvj1sa4kgfI/AAAAAAAACRM/dqzX2Q7sUyU/s1600/1Foie.Fest.2011+%25285%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3n9RCSPfCHA/Tvj1sa4kgfI/AAAAAAAACRM/dqzX2Q7sUyU/s200/1Foie.Fest.2011+%25285%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foie Cake</td></tr>
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Some online resources to better inform the diner:</div>
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http://www.artisanfoiegras.com/about/</div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
http://incanto.biz/2009/02/01/shock-foie/</div>
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMA5J3gfxNQ&feature=player_embedded <br />
http://www.zesterdaily.com/zester-soapbox-articles/1173-don’t-ban-foie-gras<br />
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/16/us/in-california-going-all-out-to-bid-adieu-to-foie-gras.html<br />
http://la.eater.com/archives/2011/10/17/local_chefs_rally_to_keep_foie_gras_legal_in_ca.php<br />
http://restauranteugene.blogspot.com/2011/07/foie-gras-our-story.html<br />
<br />
SIGN THE PETITION TO STOP THE BAN: http://artisanfarmers.org/<br />
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To say that this was an unusual and imaginative journey in food preparation would be an understatement. Chef Bazirgan was on a mission to create, to amaze and to entertain and he succeeded brilliantly. When I thanked him via Twitter, he responded with<br />
<br />
@bazsf (david bazirgan)<br />
@FoodAprecianado Right on, So stoked to cook with that much foie , you are much appreciated!!!<br />
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What a host! My recommendation? Stop by Fifth Floor, Bazirgan is as talented as he is easy on the eyes. Check it out, make a memory of your own.<br />
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Fifth Floor Restaurant<br />
(Within the Hotel Palomar)<br />
12 Fourth Street<br />
San Francisco , CA 94103<br />
Phone: 415.348.1555<br />
www.fifthfloorrestaurant.com<br />
@bazsf<br />
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</div>The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-24356561644432126622012-01-06T14:09:00.000-08:002012-01-06T21:49:11.973-08:00ATELIER CRENN: An Evening of Art and Alchemy<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TMDhTwqY-Cg/TuRXd8KL1PI/AAAAAAAACLQ/NtqvuStS7No/s1600/sm.pumpkin.foie.amuse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TMDhTwqY-Cg/TuRXd8KL1PI/AAAAAAAACLQ/NtqvuStS7No/s320/sm.pumpkin.foie.amuse.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Opening Notes, Foie & Pumpkin caviar...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Some people are born possessed of a boundless desire to make beautiful things and to share that beauty with the world around them. It is how they communicate. I have always identified myself as an artist. When I was younger I envisioned my future self living in a dark and barren garret, filling canvas after canvas with mood, beauty and emotions — my world view would be realized in oil paint. I imagined I would sell these paintings to earn my way in the world. I took every class offered in high school and applied to be accepted at what was then the California College of Arts & Crafts. For a young painter, it seemed the Julliard of its time. Though I was accepted, I never made it to art school. When it came time to put down the deposit, my father casually informed me that he could no longer afford it. He’d paid an overdue bar tab with the monies in a trust account reserved for my tuition. Visions of my garret faded as life took me on another journey. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0wOMR7b-o8/TuRXWVi3kdI/AAAAAAAACJw/1Ua6tmRqzKo/s1600/sm.char.skin.bites.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0wOMR7b-o8/TuRXWVi3kdI/AAAAAAAACJw/1Ua6tmRqzKo/s200/sm.char.skin.bites.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crackling fish skin <br />
and bits of caviar</td></tr>
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Although my imagined successes in art school failed to materialize, the need to express myself artistically never diminished. I continued to interpret life via my muse, and the mission to create tangible beauty fueled many youthful decisions. It shaped who I became. Born with an artist’s brain, I struggled with math, yet could focus for hours on a pencil sketch in an attempt to capture the shadowed minutia of a human hand; the gentle slope at the nape of a neck. A free-spirited child of the seventies, the only college classes I never missed were art-related. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-It_YCE-0LPg/TuRXftUNcHI/AAAAAAAACLk/V2jR3_3vn3Q/s1600/sm.white.choc.liquor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-It_YCE-0LPg/TuRXftUNcHI/AAAAAAAACLk/V2jR3_3vn3Q/s200/sm.white.choc.liquor.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A tiny bubble of chocolate, <br />
more fragile than an eggshell, <br />
meant to be lifted to the mouth<br />
where it exploded in a burst<br />
of liquid ambrosia <br />
spilling across the palate</td></tr>
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Once I started working there was less time for painting, but I always managed to find some outlet, eventually becoming a professional designer of theatrical costume. Manipulating the fluid and dramatic lines of fabrics and millinery to enhance an actor’s performance on the stage was a rewarding pursuit indeed. There were moments of personal and professional triumph that will last me a lifetime. Before retiring several years ago, I was fortunate to find myself mentoring the next generation of talented young designers. Watching these gifted young women flourish as they expressed themselves in the creation of beauty was inspirational. We experimented together. We shared successes and failures. We grew. We spoke the language of art, and it was good.<br />
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Unable to live a life absent some artistic endeavor, I now use language. My labor of love is to craft a sentence precisely, to capture the essence of the emotional flavor of everything I experience, and to share that joy with others. There is no success greater than having made the effort. No matter the medium, the process of translating life to art has always felt familiar, coming to me as naturally as I breathe. I am connected to it, and it to me. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s8xa8O9tjSg/TuRXYupEE_I/AAAAAAAACKY/bjFgIoVrU-Y/s1600/sm.foie.log.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s8xa8O9tjSg/TuRXYupEE_I/AAAAAAAACKY/bjFgIoVrU-Y/s320/sm.foie.log.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The infamous Foie Gras Log. Nuff said</td></tr>
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When I stepped into Atelier Crenn in San Francisco for a holiday meal with my visiting daughter, the Wandering Lawyer, I was flooded with a palpable sense of connection to Chef Dominique Crenn's sensibilities. It was clear we shared a kindred spirit. Atelier is French for “workshop,” but I believe its usage in this context more closely resembles what we would term an “art studio”. Her father was an artist, his Atelier Papa Crenn providing the inspiration for the name of her own establishment, which is decorated throughout its minimalist interior with an artist’s eye for detail. The furnishings are precise, there is no doubt that a great deal of thought went into its layout. Sprinkled with sleek, amber tables whose wood glows beside soft green walls, the back wall is glass and provides a view into the kitchen, where Chef Crenn can be seen darting about, working her magic. Occasionally one can hear a vibrant voice shout something in French. The frenetic activity behind the glass is mesmerizing. The restaurant manages to be clean and modern without being cold or dispassionate. One wall is lined with elaborate lamps, sconce-less crystal spirals in appearance more fuse than lightbulb— they are intriguingly beautiful. There are personal touches— a small oil painting of a sailboat that hung on the wall just by our table. Signed only “D. Crenn, 1973.” <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1lmrHXLoqhU/TuRXaygCU2I/AAAAAAAACKo/QfRJejsExRE/s1600/sm.mushroom.forest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1lmrHXLoqhU/TuRXaygCU2I/AAAAAAAACKo/QfRJejsExRE/s200/sm.mushroom.forest.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magic Mushrooms. Flavors varied from woodsy<br />
to something perhaps reminiscent of marshmallow<br />
then to an herbal acidity... mind-boggling<br />
in its complexity</td></tr>
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<br />
I recognized something of myself in that simple little painting. I have small canvases tucked away in corners of my home, recalling a time when I sat in my mother’s house and created for creation’s sake. It is easy to imagine a young Dominique standing at an easel in her father’s atelier, painting to pass the time, sharing a passion with a parent. My mother was a painter. That’s how it starts. If one is inclined, any exposure to art leads to that self-awareness: the knowledge that this is what one was born to do. Starting a fire that burns for a lifetime. I smiled in the realization that she’d been born to it, too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jEw3xRqDXqY/TuRXeOAz-TI/AAAAAAAACLM/E5Fan2h2TfE/s1600/sm.quince.brew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jEw3xRqDXqY/TuRXeOAz-TI/AAAAAAAACLM/E5Fan2h2TfE/s320/sm.quince.brew.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Alchemy Machine<br />
prepares a warm concoction<br />
of cinnamon and citrus</td></tr>
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That Chef Crenn’s world view is that of an artist is unmistakable in everything she does. Throughout our meal we were presented with one remarkably expressive dish after another, each stunningly beautiful. It was December, so her visuals on this visit recreated a lengthy foray into a dark and wint’ry forest. My palate was tantalized as the various combinations of flavor danced on my tongue, daring me to experience them, to give myself over and succumb entirely. Often these flavors seemed to me to defy any single identity of taste. A plate of mushrooms, tasted at one moment of umami and earth; the next bite of the same dish gently sweet and effervescent. It was a little like listening to a carefully orchestrated piece of music, the melody pleasing to all but each of us hearing a slightly different song. Sirens performing variations on a forest. <br />
<br />
Chef Crenn succeeds on a grand scale. The thoughtfulness in her dishes dares her diners to travel down that forest road beside her. I could hear the wind in the trees. I felt the roar of a campfire. I experienced this meal with a sense of wonder, at her almost alchemic skill with ingredients. Maybe her mushrooms were, indeed, magic.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FIlxCcE52D0/TuRXcsRQNRI/AAAAAAAACK8/zXuMEe1A3s8/s1600/sm.pear.icecream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FIlxCcE52D0/TuRXcsRQNRI/AAAAAAAACK8/zXuMEe1A3s8/s320/sm.pear.icecream.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Re-purposed Pear... in appearance a faux fruit, <br />
in taste a heavenly ice cream<br />
in a bed of powdery goodness</td></tr>
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Her website says it beautifully: “Atelier Crenn, a painting. An empty white canvas. With tools... a brush, paint and a vision, creativity is given its breath. Here from this place, the artist can suggest emotions. A lasting moment from childhood... little drawers of heartbeats.”<br />
<br />
I couldn’t have said it better myself.<br />
<br />
Go. Treat yourself to an experience that will last a lifetime. For myself, I can’t wait to see where she’ll take her diners in the Spring. A budding garden? The French countryside? Wherever it will be, it will be an adventure not to be missed.<br />
<br />
Atelier Crenn - Poetic Culinaria<br />
3127 Fillmore<br />
San Francisco, CA <br />
415-440-0460<br />
<br />
Note: Parking is non-existent, so the restaurant shares valet services with the Balboa Café at Filbert and Fillmore for $16. <br />
<br />
Service: Excellent<br />
Noise level: Perfect for conversation<br />
Price: $125/pp for pris fixe - excluding wineThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-76355118597931968742011-12-17T17:49:00.000-08:002011-12-17T17:49:49.659-08:00FAMILY & FOOD IN THE AGE OF MAD MEN<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CPUwU8Gcvw8/Tu1FVjtmI1I/AAAAAAAACPM/caNGi_w7MPI/s1600/Ang.fridge.edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CPUwU8Gcvw8/Tu1FVjtmI1I/AAAAAAAACPM/caNGi_w7MPI/s320/Ang.fridge.edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My fascination with food began fairly early...</td></tr>
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Recently while watching an episode of AMC’s hit series Mad Men, I came to a strange and somewhat unsettling realization. I was Sally Draper. Or she was me. The life this little girl on the television was living was an eerie parallel of my own. Her struggles were much like mine, her experiences with family, certainly the history that was shaping her childhood. All mine. That got me to thinking about what it meant to grow up in the time period from the late fifties through Woodstock. The fifties were a time defined by a strong iconography, particularly in advertising. It is no wonder that a television show has now been crafted around those vivid images. Reflecting back on that decade of glossy ads in bright, primary colors, they spoke of a simpler time. Photos of a poised and smiling wife and mother beaming over her stove in crisp white apron, her lipstick and coiffure perfectly in order, seemingly belied the reality we know must have existed for those women. Yet the facade of perfection perpetuated for some time. We wanted to believe life could be effortless, so we told ourselves it was. Mother continued to effortlessly deliver her flawless roast beef dinner to the bread-winning master of the house. <br />
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That veneer soon began to crack, as veneers unfailingly do. The illustrated perfection fed us by Madison Avenue eventually gave way to a generation unbound, as the early sixties brought with them societal turmoil. The pill brought a new freedom for women. Great leaders inspired our young people to hope for a better world. The Civil Rights movement gained momentum in the year of my birth, as a soft-spoken, exhausted and profoundly courageous Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white man. Events began to tumble and plummet, as we were carried forward by time throughout the next decade and a half. The times they were a-changin’ — suddenly Mother had a voice.<br />
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But back to Little Sally. She was six or seven when her parents parted ways, I was not quite three. My father might have been Don Draper, the handsome roué with a gorgeous head of black-brown hair and piercing blue eyes. My mother might easily have stepped into the role of Betty: she was likewise bright and beautiful, and may also have felt a little smothered by the role of housewife and mother thrust upon women of her time. Lucky for me, if she was, she never let on. It was against this complex and tumultuous backdrop that we all experienced Camelot; together we “had a dream.” We flew to the moon together, only to come crashing back to earth as our inspirational leaders were murdered one after another. 1955 to 1970 was a decade and a half of hope and assassination. Turbulent, magical and heartbreaking.<br />
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So how does any of this apply to eating, you ask?<br />
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People share joy and cope with tragedy by coming together and that almost universally takes the form of also sharing a meal. The picture-perfect fifties were moving from an unattainable ideal to a more accurate reality. The apron Mother wore was stained and greasy, and as she removed a roast from the oven, she was wiping real sweat off her brow. Suddenly the way we saw ourselves was in conflict with who we were becoming. Change is a recipe for the instinctive return to the comfort of traditions. When we feel threatened, we come even closer together. We celebrate our rituals. Inevitably, we eat.<br />
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In these times when families were still regularly observing the formal family dinner, it was customary to expand that gathering to larger groups for the holidays. Though I was perhaps at least as restless as the next kid — maybe even more so — I cannot recall ever wanting to get away from the family table during a holiday meal. It might be because there was no playmate waiting patiently outside for me to join her, or maybe it was because it was a special occasion, with all of my extended family gathered together. At Grandpa Johnny’s, it might have been because I was with my father, an event that did not happen as often as I might have liked in the post-divorce years. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because on these occasions even the adults were genuinely happy.<br />
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Being gathered around that table in the bosom of my family for a holiday dinner was a joy I anticipated all year long. Though we spent most holidays with my mother’s people after my parent’s divorce — the somewhat fractured holiday schedule usually allowed for Christmas dinner to be spent with my Father’s large and boisterous Italian family, particularly when I was very little. Ours was typically a fairly robust gathering, at any given time there might have been fifteen of us all seated around my Grandmother’s table to share the feast. Italian relationships most definitely revolve around the culture of eating. I can hear him now once we were all seated and the food had been placed on the table. “Mangia(re)! Mangia(re)!” he would exclaim.<br />
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These early gatherings are vividly recalled whenever I think on them. Recently, I ran across a photo taken of this beloved Italian menagerie at Christmas dinner circa 1957 or so. Of the multitude seated at that table, only my mother remains alive. The table itself had been decked out in Louise’s finest linens, sterling and china — elegant — the way she’d learned to do things in America. The menu for the evening was however, uniquely Italian, resplendent with our shared Genovese heritage. The food of Northern Italy.<br />
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First to be brought out of that kitchen were Lou’s depression-glass plates, all piled high with a rustic, vegetable-rich frittata, a moist, savory concoction that to this day is an unfailing delight. Next would come a steaming platter of hand-made ravioli, generously slathered with Johnny’s mouth-watering mushroom sauce, each toothsome pillow generously sprinkled with fresh grated parmesan cheese. Another platter would soon follow that one, perhaps containing hot linguini with clams and garlic, again layered with a gentle yellow snow of the precious cheese. Sometimes one of the women would make a Cima, an old country staple that was eaten sliced and cold. It is essentially a pistachio-stuffed veal breast, the preparation of which involves a week or more of stuffing, aging and pressing. Food just kept coming until no one could possibly eat any more. <br />
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(Both my grandparents were marvelous cooks, and both of them had me working in their kitchens the moment I could steadily hold a chopping blade. I will never forget my first successful solo attempt at browning an onion for the evening’s meal. The look of pride on my Grandmother’s face when I showed her how nicely I had caramelized the onions was one of my proudest moments. To win her approval was the ultimate reward.) <br />
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After the classic Italian dishes came our nod to the New Country. Usually a fat roast turkey, but occasionally for a slightly smaller gathering Lou might offer her guests a beautifully prepared roast beef. To my three-year old self, it all seemed limitless. After the turkey came more platters, these with side dishes— potatoes and salads. There was wine in abundance, and with dessert came coffee and Galliano. My grandmother believed there should always be more than enough food for company. If the guest list was eight, she cooked enough for 14, nearly doubling every recipe. If anyone were to have left her table remotely unsatisfied, that would have for her, been a fate worse than death.<br />
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Dining with a large, boisterous crowd of friends and family is at the heart of all that is best about life. These gatherings are potent, marvelous, enchanting. They are so rife with sensory and emotional pleasures we can become intoxicated by the event itself. The palate is intrigued by the smells of the abundant meal as soon as you enter the home. The heart is warmed with the sounds of beloved family gathered in every room happily chatting in anticipation. There is an excited electricity as parents reunite with busy adult children they don’t see as often as they might like; youngsters of various ages scramble for a coveted position on a beloved grandparent’s lap; teen cousins bond over shared perceptions of the adults in the room. There are new babies to enjoy. There are faces missing, as beloved elders are lost and new members to the family join the throng. Some changes are inevitable as babies turn to teens and loved ones are lost, but at the root of the holidays is that thrill, the knowledge that for a little while, on this occasion and in this moment, we are safe. We are together. We are united in one another’s glorious company.<br />
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There is nothing more natural than dining— and thus bonding— with immediate family. Certainly those of us who belong to the Mad Men generation are seeking a route back to those simpler times — before the shattering of family food rituals began to shatter our connections to family. We are beginning to realize that the preparation of food, and nurturing of a home, can all be liberating. There is something to be said for the way June Cleaver rocked those pearls while tossing a salad. When Mother discovered the TV dinner, it was a mixed bag. Though the convenience of these instant meals represented a form of rescue for the newly working parent at the end of a busy day, the self contained meals began to erode the ritual of a formal family meal. Decades later, we are coming full circle as people begin to rediscover the pleasures of dining together. They are realizing that the act of breaking bread with others is as critical to human nourishment as the food itself. Today’s foodies (and foomies) are seeking a return to a time when we were united at family dinners, celebratory get togethers and holiday tables a good deal more often. <br />
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For this holiday season, the recipe for Peace on Earth is a simple one. Find a friend. Share a meal. Make a memory.<br />The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-79557665663441578212011-11-28T20:28:00.001-08:002011-11-28T20:45:20.362-08:00MANRESA - On the Occasion of My Last Winter Garden<br />
A little over a year ago, I had the privilege of dining at Manresa in Los Gatos. It was my birthday celebration, and what could possibly be more special than dinner for two in one of the world’s premiere restaurants?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An Imaginative Amuse Bouche</td></tr>
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While sitting in the tiny foyer waiting for our table, my glee at glimpsing the kitchen preparing the night’s repast became evident to the well-dressed man who I mistook at that time for the Mâitre d. He approached and we chatted. Being a food writer, I asked about the restaurant’s upcoming plans, and he told me that they were building a sort of garden bar, the specifics of which he did not disclose as it was to be something of a surprise. Polite and informative while holding back any real detail about the planned project that might spoil it’s launch, I found him charming. I’d met him before, on a previous trip to Manresa, and he was no less gracious on this second occasion, remembering me and addressing me by name. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grapefruit & Fennel Ceviche of Scallop with Truffle</td></tr>
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At some point during the meal, Michael and I (he’d introduced himself by this point) got to talking about the wait staff. I’d become increasingly transfixed by their orchestrated movements, the way each one always came in one side of the room and left by the other, circling the tables as naturally as water flows downstream. They were graceful, more graceful than many I’ve seen, and I’ve been to quite a few Michelin-starred establishments. It appeared to me that they were actually choreographed. Since I have a theatrical background, I wondered if they were indeed rehearsed in this seamless ebb and flow of perfect service. I asked Michael if this were the case. He smiled, beaming, clearly proud of the effort and pleased that I had recognized this attention to detail. I asked him if I might come back and interview them (and him) on the intricacies of their specific routines. He replied that I would be most welcome to do so. I wish now that I had managed to find the time to schedule the interview. The opportunity has passed.<br />
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Michael Kean was Manresa’s Manager, but he was more than that. Losing him, they lost a friend and a presence that cannot be replaced. Certainly the restaurant will not suffer any lack of attention to detail, nor will it become less than it was, they will see to it that a great talent is brought in to fill the void. But I felt it important to take a moment to let the world know that anyone who missed out on an evening with Michael Kean, missed something truly remarkable. <br />
<br />
He wasn’t just the Manager, he was your host for the evening. The kindly uncle who politely saw to it that each patron’s experience was something better than flawless, something even bigger than memorable. I met him only twice, but he knew who I was on that second occasion, and I felt as though the restaurant was open just for me. That everyone else dining there were guests at my table. I'm sure all the other guests were made to feel the same way. And that’s just how Mr. Kean would have wanted it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXvFLzm7pBSgg7tVwss3xnTTvH_WxV4bF6StSZTChKX37QK6vuHRvBwiDU-PfpB1IsAf-mHy8ID5abqN9vT5BcVpgO7X-c75QIBdvxBBLo1TuHzNFzpLzpaKpi0ydZzAaWbsQmNTfGknw/s1600/sm.garden.Manresa.1.7.11+047+%252834%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXvFLzm7pBSgg7tVwss3xnTTvH_WxV4bF6StSZTChKX37QK6vuHRvBwiDU-PfpB1IsAf-mHy8ID5abqN9vT5BcVpgO7X-c75QIBdvxBBLo1TuHzNFzpLzpaKpi0ydZzAaWbsQmNTfGknw/s320/sm.garden.Manresa.1.7.11+047+%252834%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into the Vegetable Garden</td></tr>
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At the conclusion of this magnificent meal, Michael asked me if I would like to stop by and visit the Chef in the Kitchen. An invitation to The Inner Sanctum! Of course I said “yes!” faster than a smitten teenager responds when first invited to the prom. I cannot emphasize enough how lovely the experience was, and how much it was enhanced by Mr. Kean’s smooth management of the environs. We rarely notice those who manage. We don't notice because nothing goes wrong. The people who make things run smoothly, who spot problems before they happen, who solve, who labor to protect us from the things that might lessen our adventure protect us from the things that might spoil the moment. Michael Kean was such a man, more guardian angel than administrator, he cradled you in the warmth of blissful abandon inside the cocoon of experience that is Manresa, until it was time to return to the less than perfect world outside those doors. It was for me a perfect birthday, in large part, because Michael Kean had made it so.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, the meal was remarkable as well. Chef Kinch is a master of the perfect meal. We began with petit four of “red pepper-black olive” which was a red bell pepper pâtes de fruits mingled with black olives. Next up were garden beignets seasoned with a lovely concoction called “vinegar powder.” The wine that was poured to accompany this delectable treat a Bailly La Tiere.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enchanted Oysters</td></tr>
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The oyster, aptly titled “elemental oyster” arrived on a bed of seaside rocks, looking hand sculpted of some beautiful, exotic stone --- opening to reveal a large and luscious bite of meat. Salty, seaworthy, the water refrain continued.<br />
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Next was a red enamel bowl of raw milk panacotta, and beautifully prepared Monterey Bay abalone, the hint of radish giving the briny dish a bit of earthy balance. It was followed by a lovely garden green velouté, a sort of soup with Orleans mustard cream, assorted vegetable purees, and a delightful Riesling from Marin County. The wine pairings are as precise as the feet of the dancing waitstaff.<br />
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We savored the scent of house made bread and sampled our Nantucket Bay Scallop Ceviche, delightfully enhanced with grapefruit, fennel & black truffle. Divine. As we nibbled we sipped a crisp, refreshing Ryan Chenin Blanc from Monterey, our wine tour of California landing in every major wine-producing port.<br />
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The shellfish in bonito butter was a mix of octopus and dungeness crab accompanied by a Cheverney Domain de Sabard Sauvignon Blanc. <br />
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One of the highlights of the meal was the next dish an amusing and whimsical salute to the winter “garden” theme of the evening: a platter of warm greens on a bed of faux “dirt” — picturesque and toothsome. The wine, a Chenin Blanc, Chateau de Pierre.<br />
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The garden itself was followed by another bowl of liquid enchantment, the Winter Tidal Pool, warm, inviting and delicious. The colors somber but the flavors inviting and reinvigorating. Served with an Arvois red wine from the Jura region.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea Bass</td></tr>
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After warming us with the soup, we were presented with a lovely serving of black bass, set off with sweet onion and marrow broth, and seasoned with chervil, and smoked lentil. The next dish a crispy roasted portion of squab, on a bed of carrot, potato and truffle croquettes. The wine a Sangiovese Pleiades.<br />
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As our evening drew to a close, the dishes got richer, each portion a partner in a dance, the music lasting just long enough to tantalize before that particular partner was whisked away to be replaced by another. Our plates suddenly contained a roast rack of veal prepared tonnato, chilled and drizzled in a sauce of tuna. The veal atop a mixture of assorted garden cabbage, porcini mushrooms & onion.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squab</td></tr>
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After a moment to breathe and to acknowledge the journey our tastebuds had been on, it was time for a palate cleanser, this time a lychee champagne gelee with lychee ice cream, and a kiss of rose foam. And then, of course, the elaborate red cheese cart rolled up to the table. Manresa has a beautiful hand tooled cart, as lovely to look at as the wide variety of cheeses that ride its surface like Cleopatra on her palanquin. We sampled a Cow’s milk from the Loire valley, that had been aged in abandoned railway tunnels. It had a beautiful hazelnut and butterscotch quality, the humidity of the tunnels having provided the perfect environment for its maturation. Next a cheese whose name sounds a bit like “de la vorc” with a similar flavor and texture to a parmegian. Also a fudgy-textured delight with a nutty profile from the Western Pyranee’s Basque region; a Pireille papillion from Rouillard France (its double buttercream texture holding nuances of truffle and mushroom); a Goat’s milk Cyrus Gouda (the goat’s-milk is produced locally but aged in Holland); a Cel Courshare, also from the Loire valley. This cheese has a wood ash rind of blue mold, which makes it tangy with a nice runny interior; Finally a Trepa fuillard robiola – the mix of sheep/cow/goat, mingling to make it firmer than a triple cream. This kind of world tour of cheeses is one of my favorite parts of any fine-dining experience.<br />
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Dessert was light and refreshing, a panacotta of orange, meyer lemon and vanilla ice cream & honey over a light graham cracker “crust.” Simple, sweet, delectable.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXB7iVc2n8BBl7qymSc31hkRTL9IM3uNEaENVctpbZgQMYFFKpPN5Z-G9mcE7VrIqtu-RSNwuYZxL8axyl2xzVgeCOwtmnLmrsWKSwhJjVDWNGxzWDa0Z4GgYfchWMYGH04UdQsCq9fJl/s1600/sm.cheese.cart.Manresa.1.7.11+047+%252845%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXB7iVc2n8BBl7qymSc31hkRTL9IM3uNEaENVctpbZgQMYFFKpPN5Z-G9mcE7VrIqtu-RSNwuYZxL8axyl2xzVgeCOwtmnLmrsWKSwhJjVDWNGxzWDa0Z4GgYfchWMYGH04UdQsCq9fJl/s320/sm.cheese.cart.Manresa.1.7.11+047+%252845%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheese Cart Magic </td></tr>
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There are many things about that wonderful meal that I have long-since forgotten. Details of presentation and preparation that elude me with the passing of time. But the experience, the memory that I was warm, and comforted and dining on something like edible magic, that has not dimmed.<br />
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As we left, and Michael handed us those lovely envelopes that contain the evening’s menu, my copy thoughtfully signed by each member of the staff with birthday wishes, I had no idea it would be the last time he would do so. So if you haven’t been to Manresa, or to any other special place you’ve always wanted to experience, don’t wait. The lesson is, there is always a beautiful experience to be had, but just like live theater, no two shows are ever the same. I’m glad I was afforded the opportunity to enjoy the Michael Kean experience, and will cherish my memories when I return.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQhT36hmJvzeQhYgz44YKUVbBunWcCVRcZNzH_l0bWx8fJZ6Hh8eUqdHpHPVnCzcL47fgTrnWB1mE-bhdRDIr_Qye1uFNNZqDxRcOCuiubadSR268wgePfW-qtE0v7xbSrj-4H8MtG1Ux2/s1600/sm.dessert.Manresa.1.7.11+047+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQhT36hmJvzeQhYgz44YKUVbBunWcCVRcZNzH_l0bWx8fJZ6Hh8eUqdHpHPVnCzcL47fgTrnWB1mE-bhdRDIr_Qye1uFNNZqDxRcOCuiubadSR268wgePfW-qtE0v7xbSrj-4H8MtG1Ux2/s320/sm.dessert.Manresa.1.7.11+047+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Sweet Finish</td></tr>
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Go to Manresa as soon as you can. Do not wait. Life is short and meant to be lived with abandon. Ask Michael, he’d have told you the same thing.The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-37882185394951360662011-10-31T17:14:00.000-07:002011-11-12T19:39:43.596-08:00FALL CHOCOLATE SALON - San Francisco - November 13, 2011<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-opumF-_uF2Q/Tq45vs70JFI/AAAAAAAACCk/S_oB63QAnd0/s1600/sm.Ghirardelli.Chocolate.Salon.4.17.11+118+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-opumF-_uF2Q/Tq45vs70JFI/AAAAAAAACCk/S_oB63QAnd0/s200/sm.Ghirardelli.Chocolate.Salon.4.17.11+118+%25284%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a>As the seasons change and we approach the holidays, I’m usually not thinking about Christmas. The first Halloween pumpkins and water-cooler chatter of the possibilities of who can make the most inventive costumes doesn’t bring me straight to Christmas trees and sugar plums. But my thoughts do turn to something sugary. Here in the Bay the approaching year’s end can mean only one thing: the Fall Chocolate Salon put on by Taste TV at Fort Mason. Cause they, well, they have chocolate.<br />
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And not just any chocolate. TASTE TV’s Fall Chocolate Salon is the Willie Wonka of chocolate experiences. The World Cup of Chocolate Salons. Held at Fort Mason, artisans from all over arrive with all manner of magical concoctions and set up their wares to be tasted. They are there to be experienced, to be promoted and to be judged. Since it’s a competition of sorts, these artisans have delivered the best of their best, in the hopes of being among the chosen. But they are also there to expose us to the unimaginable variety of choice that is the face of modern chocolate manufacturing.<br />
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In this big sprawling room can be found an array of the best chocolates available in the world today. Concoctions featuring sourced cacao from places like Bolivia, Venezuela, and Trinidad; some even from the hidden forests of the Amazon. These beans have been harvested from across the globe and have been processed to make a myriad of chocolate treats: raw, milk, dark, light, soft, crunchy, even sweet and savory. <br />
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I was not surprised to discover that many of these chocolate companies are family run, and their pride is palpable. Treasured family recipes have been perfected for generations. Elite events like this are the perfect opportunity for these proud descendants of pioneer chocolatiers to share their bounty with the world. They offer their confections with such genuine enthusiasm. They are not merely selling, they are aglow with the joy of what they offer. They are inspiring. Some have developed new or perfected versions of beloved childhood favorites, some have invented completely new recipes. Siblings, cousins, couples and friends have come together to collaborate and along their journey have discovered much, and all of it should be shared.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNM2BcsR4ZLEQYdzXEgugtCNUHURktMtu7z7YvcyWcxvJhVnHrxD8CrtJ8k6tMiyoy4Ku1kGu6URmsIWKKnFRqDIqMzZmdSKphuNP7mg5vL6YyY5EoISeV8EnagHYzVZVIcBcQibrzktGP/s1600/sm.Wm.Dean.Chocolate.Salon.4.17.11+042+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNM2BcsR4ZLEQYdzXEgugtCNUHURktMtu7z7YvcyWcxvJhVnHrxD8CrtJ8k6tMiyoy4Ku1kGu6URmsIWKKnFRqDIqMzZmdSKphuNP7mg5vL6YyY5EoISeV8EnagHYzVZVIcBcQibrzktGP/s200/sm.Wm.Dean.Chocolate.Salon.4.17.11+042+%25281%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a>These are magnificent artists. They have discovered ways to incorporate more brilliant color in the shell of a truffle. These are inventive and inspired chefs who have found flavor combinations as yet untasted. And they will often be presented here at the Chocolate Salon. Among the vendors can also be found a new generation of earth-conscious entrepreneurs who inspire us by their insistence on using beans from free-trade farms, and green technologies, ensuring that the populations of those source countries will also share in the profits. They want in their own way to help the world benefit from our global delight in chocolate. <br />
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This fair is more than merely a contest or a “candy” extravaganza. It is a giant tent of love, full of amazing expressions of human inventiveness manifested in chocolate. Truffles in every color of the rainbow. Bars of every shape and size. Flavors spicy, sweet and savory. The palate is assaulted with it all — coconut, ginger, jalapeno, pineapple, mango, coffee— and it just goes on from there. This is a room chock-full of chocolate, but it is also a place where the air is laden with the scent of cacao, and the artisans who have found their muse in this mythical substance of history, have outdone themselves to come up with a new and intriguing variation on ways to reinvent it for the world.<br />
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More information can be found at http://www.fallchocolatesalon.com. I suggest you go and check it out. Make a few memories of your own.<br />
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Postscript: It’s a great place to shop for the holidays, if you can think about them while overwhelmed with the glory of all the chocolate. The packaging is gorgeous, sexy, pretty and inventive. A little something for everyone.<br />
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Among the participants this Fall are <i><b>Amano Artisan Chocolate, CocoTutti, ChoclatiQue, Snake & Butterfly, Permano, Willet's Mini Creations, Leonidas Fresh Belgian Chocolate, Saratoga Chocolates, Victoria Chocolatier, Nicole Lee Fine Chocolates, Sterling Truffle Bar, Toffeeology, The TeaRoom Chocolate Company, Monterey Chocolate Company, Marich Confectionery, Sixthcourse Artisan Confections, Toffee Talk, Dandelion Chocolate, MDP Signature Chocolates, Au Coeur Des Chocolats, Seattle Chocolate Company, Butterfly Brittle, Be A Gourmet, Jack & Jason's Pancakes & Waffles, Urban Legend Cellars, The Winery SF, Jerk'NPickle, TasteTV</b></i>, and more.<br />
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More information can be found at http://www.fallchocolatesalon.com. I suggest you go and check it out. Make a few memories of your own.The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-17995688072368464252011-10-05T13:40:00.000-07:002011-11-09T15:40:59.644-08:00PLUM Oakland - (Pork) Belly Up to the Bar<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1d_ujnCzwAW3nO4bC2gmc4LFS4NNGwy_wZNY-8OM3dIE4sCJNewJjFDe74rG_T4O-ZFeT9vrDpvVHfG_xjcWjfJSUOKfho2SFZlW4_G7J_4EhaJ-9C0hHlM58lXC0hli0KzfRogFJuGjT/s1600/sm.rose.IMG_7028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1d_ujnCzwAW3nO4bC2gmc4LFS4NNGwy_wZNY-8OM3dIE4sCJNewJjFDe74rG_T4O-ZFeT9vrDpvVHfG_xjcWjfJSUOKfho2SFZlW4_G7J_4EhaJ-9C0hHlM58lXC0hli0KzfRogFJuGjT/s320/sm.rose.IMG_7028.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Rose....</td></tr>
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It began with an email. I get a lot of email, and even though most of it is information I have requested in one form or another, life just never seems to allow me to read every article on every new opening. Hard truth is, there just aren’t enough hours in a day. The fact that I managed to receive this particular invitation was a combination of luck and timing. Guess some things are just meant to be. <br />
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One of my favorite new restos in Oaktown — Daniel Patterson’s, Plum, helmed since shortly after opening by the incomparable Charlie Parker — was having a special prix fixe dinner. The first of a series of such meals to be held on Monday &Tuesday nights, which will feature local-grown produce and proteins. What could be more enticing? Great food that supports local farmers. Everybody wins.<br />
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The star of this particular dinner was to be The Pig. A local pig butcher who’d worked with <b>HAVEN</b> Chef Kim Alter during Eat Real was sourcing the pork. (Now, I’m a girl who loves pork in almost all forms. Despite my decades old conversion to the laws of Moses, I still consume pork. Raised Italian Catholic, giving up prosciutto seemed worse than cutting off an arm. I was prepared to make the sacrifice, but my BH wouldn’t have it. Fortunately the rabbis never asked me that question.) Tantalized by all the potential in that “other” white meat, I made a reservation within seconds of receiving the emailed invitation. Didn’t even run the menu by the BH. We were down on the dance card. All that was left to do was to wait and show up.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGCAkjETiff2J6TNqFwBAj2khtRwdYAhFIVOaseBWSqy_wF8-kXIhrT_mvXTaBVXT6XgVqo-tPXiXE_TZuOMaqk0EThm7H-_V9it8YWAzymSChlUFEmeZngossudXMbnS7Fcts1VnupQY/s1600/sm.cucumber.IMG_7026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGCAkjETiff2J6TNqFwBAj2khtRwdYAhFIVOaseBWSqy_wF8-kXIhrT_mvXTaBVXT6XgVqo-tPXiXE_TZuOMaqk0EThm7H-_V9it8YWAzymSChlUFEmeZngossudXMbnS7Fcts1VnupQY/s320/sm.cucumber.IMG_7026.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beattie's Cucumber Cocktail</td></tr>
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We arrived on the evening of our reservation, and after a brief delay while we waited for the hostess to deal with a fairly hostile walk-in, we were seated at the chef’s counter. The counter is my favorite place to eat at Plum, or any other place that offers one. I love sitting where I can watch the magic, the food becomes a lovely bonus while watching the best show ever. <br />
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There’s a certain kind of playful risk in a prix fixe meal. Whether it consists of a simple and straightforward handful of courses or the more elaborate eleven-plus course “Chef’s Tasting,” one must be willing to submit their entire dining experience into the hands of another. The patron has only one choice — to participate or not — he or she must become a guest at the table, dining at the pleasure of the Chef. I find it invigorating. Some Chefs are expanding on that experience, limiting their menu descriptions to suggestions of what is to come. Recently, while being seated at Saison in San Francisco, we noted the “menu” contained only a single word to describe each course. Last fall at the re-opening of service at the newly refurbished Eleven Madison in Manhattan, the diner was given a cryptic table, looking more like a game of tic-tac-toe than a menu, which contained several words in each line, supplemented by lithographs of seasonal symbols. The diner was to select one word from each line, creating a mystical menu laden with unknowns, the words suggesting little more than which protein or other single ingredient might be in the dish. The rest was left to the imagination. Adventurous. In the words of Anthony Bourdain “...your body is not a temple, it's an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.”<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L4Hpq4Nu7O8/Toygdvxu3tI/AAAAAAAAB5g/FBLBeCkLMvY/s1600/sm.pigs.ear.IMG_7029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L4Hpq4Nu7O8/Toygdvxu3tI/AAAAAAAAB5g/FBLBeCkLMvY/s320/sm.pigs.ear.IMG_7029.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pig's Ear Chicharrones</td></tr>
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For the record, although the pig dinner was the first, there will be more of these collaborative prix-fixe dinners coming to Plum at the hands of <b>Guest Chef Kim Alter of HAVEN</b>*. These neighborhood celebrations will each focus on local-sourced ingredients, whether from farmers, beer and winemakers, or any other talented vendor with wares worth experiencing in a meal. Showcasing that which is locally available to the consumer and giving each a featured moment at a particular meal is a wonderful way to teach people what they can find in their own backyard, as well as allowing them to experience those ingredients manipulated into something delicious by some spectacular local talent. It’s also a pretty genius way to introduce folks to new talent. Personally, I want to be first in line when HAVEN opens later this fall. The five course menu offered last week was also priced very reasonably at $49 per person. <br />
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Another fabulous addition to Plum: the long-awaited bar next door is about to open and is currently offering mixology through a delightfully “speak-easy” styled service window that opens into Plum. The as yet untitled saloon is another of D. Patterson’s brainchilds, and brings to Oakland’s bright mixology landscape the substantial talents of Michael Lazar, gifted mixologist who will be serving masterful concoctions prepared by himself and which will incorporate recipes from the renowned Scott Beattie of Spoonbar (formerly with Cyrus). Lazar is an expert in liquors, most particularly Bourbon. Mr. Beattie’s artistic input comes in the form of recipes from his vast array of seasonal recipes, and yes, they’ll have the familiar floral garnishes and elaborate ingredient preparation that have become legendary in the modern mixology movement. Cocktails with flourish. Look for the bar to be opening within the next few months. I know I’ll be there!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WUONfWCeTxI/Toygc4v59HI/AAAAAAAAB5U/KsaNjaujwBU/s1600/sm.bloody.IMG_7030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WUONfWCeTxI/Toygc4v59HI/AAAAAAAAB5U/KsaNjaujwBU/s320/sm.bloody.IMG_7030.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bloody, Bloody Mary</td></tr>
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Though I love a good glass of Malbec, and am fond of the occasional IPA, I cannot resist a fancy cocktail. To complement my Pig, I chose one of Mike’s inviting libations, a little something titled “<b>By any other name</b>” which was a lovely ambrosia of vodka, I believe, if I am remembering correctly. The drink had hints of rose that made it very special indeed. The BH ordered the simpler-titled, Cucumber Collins, which he found refreshing and much to his liking. Mine was a Lazar original, his a recipe by Scott Beattie. Both were perfection. <br />
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Now to the meal. The first course description read: “<b>PATÉ CAMPAGNE - bloody mary, chicharrone</b>.” We were served a lovely little plated containing a miniature house made Bloody Mary (a shot glass containing vodka, spicy tomato juice, seasonings and a dash of pig’s blood), which featured a cube of rustic paté on a toothpick with an olive, several haricot verts and a pickle as a “garnish.” In appearance an invitingly precious mini-rendition of the cocktail. The paté was rich and flavorful, seasoned beautifully and with a perfect mouthfeel. This tasty little mashup of meats and herbs was a complete success in my book. The chicharrone were fried pig’s ears, which looked like crushed onion rings and tasted almost like bacon, but not as fatty nor as naturally rich in flavor. While pig’s ears are not a food group I would seek out, I found the presentation inviting and the flavors appealing. See what I mean about adventure?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vIdTTvVbDbY/ToygeNkifPI/AAAAAAAAB5s/fVR9gomwwog/s1600/sm.salad.IMG_7032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vIdTTvVbDbY/ToygeNkifPI/AAAAAAAAB5s/fVR9gomwwog/s320/sm.salad.IMG_7032.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomato & Bread Salad</td></tr>
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The next course bore the title “<b>TOMATO & BREAD SALAD pancetta vinaigrette, flatbread, crema, arugula</b>.” This dish arrived on a share plate. Broken flatbreads hot from the oven, mingled with a nicely tossed salad of the above ingredients and several chunks of gorgeous, chewy pancetta, beautifully browned, and crispy in the mouth. The acids in the dressing mingling perfectly to balance the fat in the salad. Lovely.<br />
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The next savory dish was titled: “<b>BACON & EGG “salad lyonnaise”, braised bacon, fried egg, chicory</b>.” This dish was a one-per-customer affair. A thick crispy slab of pork belly, a bed of luscious greens, all topped off by the perfectly-cooked fried egg. <br />
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We watched them fry the eggs from our vantage point at the counter. First they are cracked one at a time into a glass dish and the thinnest part of the whites drained away; then the egg is slid carefully from the dish to be fried for just about a minute on the hot steel griddle, and lastly broiling it in a hot oven for another few seconds to seal in the yolk, keeping it soft and runny in the center with the whites neatly cooked to perfection. Tricky, smooth, intriguing. The end result went beautifully with the pork, which was crispy and delicious. The BH insisted he didn’t like any kind of egg that was loosely cooked. I insisted he try it. He ate it all, and says he’s a bit of a convert. Personally, whenever I am offered the option, I “egg” it. Always.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ZtvhP7ie8o/ToygdkjPduI/AAAAAAAAB5k/VNS-V33Ya8w/s1600/sm.pork.loin.IMG_7040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ZtvhP7ie8o/ToygdkjPduI/AAAAAAAAB5k/VNS-V33Ya8w/s320/sm.pork.loin.IMG_7040.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loin of Pork over kale</td></tr>
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The last of the four savory dishes was the “<b>ROAST PIG fork mashed potato, braised kale with apple, crispy pig</b>.” A moist perfectly prepared loin slice of pork over a buttery mashed potato on a bed of kale. Simple, juicy, toothsome. We polished them off in moments.<br />
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We were just about stuffed by now, but the sweet tooth had been activated. It’s like a little button in my brain that goes off when I eat that well, everything on my palate teased to perfection except that one place that needs a hint of sugar to finish off the meal. The dessert that evening was prepared by pastry chef Matt Tinder from COI. The menu read: “<b>PECAN PIE smoked lardo crust, chicory cream</b>.” The BH also decried pecans. He announced before we began the meal that he hates them, particularly in pie form. Has never eaten a bite of pecan pie on any holiday event, not since he was a kid and gagged on a mouthful of the most loathsome preparation. Or so he says. When the subject first come up (he’d finally got a look at the menu) I’d reassured him that we’d order him something else. When we realized upon arrival that that wasn’t an option, I kindly offered to eat his, and whip him up a proper dessert when we got home. The dessert plate hadn’t been before him for two seconds, when he said with a sly grin “You’re not getting any extra dessert tonight.” I love being right.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ezxI4Owwwgw/ToygdGunNFI/AAAAAAAAB5c/orcfkS7Z1wo/s1600/sm.pecan.pie.IMG_7041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ezxI4Owwwgw/ToygdGunNFI/AAAAAAAAB5c/orcfkS7Z1wo/s320/sm.pecan.pie.IMG_7041.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pecan Pie & Chicory Cream</td></tr>
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The pie was excellent. Rather than being overly cloying, it was just sweet enough, the fresh frozen cream served with it forming a milky marriage of flavors. Along with the ice cream was a powdery dusting of something that was delicious when mixed in with a bite of the pie and the chilly cream. Not sure if it was lardo hit with a blast of nitro, or some other magical concoction because the waitress forgot to come back when I sent her to ask the kitchen. No worries though, it added to the mystery. I don’t need to know why everything tastes delicious, or even what I’m eating, as long as it’s served by a trustworthy chef. It heightens the adventure, and I’m all about adventure.<br />
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If you’ve got an evening with nothing to do, and you are thinking about going home to waste an hour or two on reality TV, do yourself a favor. Check it out. Make some adventure memories of your own.<br />
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Plum Oakland<br />
2214 Broadway<br />
Oakland, California<br />
510.444.7586<br />
info@plumoakland.com<br />
Twitter: @plumfooddrink<br />
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<b>*HAVEN will be opening in November and will be located in the new space adjacent to the Oakland Train Station at Jack London Square, in the same facility that now houses the Farmer’s Market.</b><br />
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<b>Soapbox Sidenote</b>: <i>The walk-in was so rude and clueless that it made me wonder, again, if there is anyone left on the planet who recognizes that they are not the only person living. She stormed into the place ahead of those who’d been waiting patiently in line and had made reservations, demanded a table, and refused to listen to the hostess as she attempted to explain the format for the evening. When she finally did pause long enough to understand the meal was a set menu for the evening, she tossed the menu back in the face of the hostess (who remained patient and polite throughout) and stormed out. There’s just no excuse for such rude and thoughtless behavior. Ever.</i><br />
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<br /></div>The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-86622910675736404122011-09-22T18:05:00.000-07:002011-11-09T15:39:30.389-08:00OAKLAND’S STAR TURN AS CINDERELLA AT THE (MONEY)BALL<br />
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I’ve spent my whole life apologizing for my hometown. My fifth-grade bestie, a transplant from the City of Angels, once told me to simply tell people I was from “Frisco,” because no one knows where Oakland is, and those who do think it’s a ghetto. Out of the mouths of babes.<br />
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Don’t get me wrong. I was never ashamed of my city, despite her “little sister” status to her famous counterpart across the Bay. Oakland has always been beautiful in my eyes. That doesn’t mean that she wasn’t difficult to introduce to others. Like the witty girlfriend whose great personality one tries to sell to a potential blind date, Oakland was a wallflower who needed to be experienced firsthand to be appreciated. One could spend a lot of time trying to get her invited to parties.<br />
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For as long as memory serves, Oakland has struggled with various mis-perceptions, each holding just enough truth to stick. I often hear that she’s all urban blight — a virtual black hole of decay. While there are places in any city that need to be redeveloped, Oakland is by and large a beautiful place. At her center is Lake Merritt, a lovely free-form crescent of greenish-blue water that is the beating heart of a National wildlife refuge. The lake is surrounded by the “necklace of lights” --- a string of refurbished turn-of-the-century lamp posts that glow after dark like gems the throat of a queen. Oakland’s reputation is that she is a dangerous city, a place that is unsafe to visit. While there are certainly neighborhoods that should not be traveled by those unfamiliar with them, most of Oakland is as safe as any other modern urban location. New Orleans, Manhattan, all have their attractions and their challenges. I can truthfully say in my decades of exploring Oakland, I have never felt any more threatened at night while traversing her streets, than I have in say, San Francisco. Not once.<br />
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One of the main reasons I began writing this blog was to share with the world the changing landscape that Oakland is currently experiencing, and there’s been a lot of that change in the past few years. As real estate became more expensive in San Francisco in recent boom times, many of those businesses moved into Oakland. With those people came a few nice restaurants. And so it began.<br />
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As season-ticket holders for another of Oakland’s best features, the Oakland Athletics, the BH and I were offered an opportunity to purchase tickets to the world premiere of Bennett Miller’s Moneyball, starring Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill. The event was scheduled to take place at the Paramount Theater (another Oakland gem) followed by an after party at the recently restored Fox Theater in Uptown. The chance to attend such an event was an offer too good to refuse. How often does one get the opportunity to attend the world premiere of a Hollywood film? What could better serve Oakland than a full scale industry event? I had to be there. We took them up on their offer and scored seats in the rear orchestra for the big night. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SZv2l0_01u0/Tnu5URmAdAI/AAAAAAAAB20/Fb308XctXyg/s1600/As.Fans.IMG_2123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SZv2l0_01u0/Tnu5URmAdAI/AAAAAAAAB20/Fb308XctXyg/s320/As.Fans.IMG_2123.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fans came decked out in full A's regalia</td></tr>
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When we arrived I was thrilled to see the mini baseball stadium they’d recreated in the parking lot adjacent to the Paramount, a full-on Hollywood style red carpet. We went over to will call and waited for the theater to open. When it did, we were promptly escorted in, and the air-conditioning was a delightful relief from the unusually warm September weather outside. Rows of lovely complimentary cocktails were displayed for the guests. One a notable bright green appletini that had a lovely yellow apple floating in it (a nod to the A’s team colors); the other a nice soft pink tequila number. I chose the latter because, well, the chance of spilling the green on a fancy dress in a crowded room was too high . . . I’m sure you ladies will feel me. The drinks were delicious. I had several. Once we were sufficiently lubricated, we proceeded to mingle. <br />
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Though the biggest celebrities were sequestered down in the green room, we roamed the crowded halls of the Paramount playing a game of identifying various minor celebs, chatting with other fans, many of whom we knew from our many years at the Coliseum. Oakland’s own version of the glitterati were out in force. Various members of the A’s: announcers and players past and present. Mayor Quan. A’s team photographer Michael Zagaris. Even local hero Sully Sullenberger was in attendance. Definitely a happening.<br />
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There were a good number of A’s season-ticket holders in attendance, many in full sports regalia. They had come to cheer on our beloved rag-tag team. I’ve followed baseball since the early 80's. It was the thing my father and I rallied around, a common ground as he was dying of cancer. We went together to a game during the ‘89 World Series. Good stuff, baseball. My dad used to say “It’s a thinking man’s game.” Having played shortstop as a youngster, his love of baseball had even more history than my own. And that’s the beauty of the game. It can pull us in at a young age and hold us for life. It can be the backdrop for family events, uniting young and old in a communal enthusiasm. Much like eating a meal, baseball is a pastime that is meant to be shared, to be experienced together. It has heart. Perhaps that is why it is America’s game.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil9-hz_nWg3UUeWmXEOozj83iDtNQhq8QNRMzc5lNQ5noXxzNXimcseC23bPbA3pRqe1hUy_E_tNErApxaARsTL76zhLGQmhP5kKAunCXNtoNPOAdhgaroxX8KWn-9Y5mjvuCbL9cDcq3w/s1600/Green.Carpet.IMG_2102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil9-hz_nWg3UUeWmXEOozj83iDtNQhq8QNRMzc5lNQ5noXxzNXimcseC23bPbA3pRqe1hUy_E_tNErApxaARsTL76zhLGQmhP5kKAunCXNtoNPOAdhgaroxX8KWn-9Y5mjvuCbL9cDcq3w/s320/Green.Carpet.IMG_2102.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mini A's Field as "red carpet"</td></tr>
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The premiere underscored this universal truth in many ways, but one of the most enjoyable instances was when the crowd would spontaneously burst into the “Oakland A’s chant” at various points throughout the evening. “Let’s Go Oakland” came the voices, followed by the familiar rhythmic clap. It was invigorating. Aside from an event which so beautifully celebrated Oakland, we were all thrilled at the tribute this movie was paying to baseball and our beloved A’s.<br />
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Soon we were seated, and the main event was about to begin. The director was introduced, and after a few words on the making of the film, he introduced the films producers Rachel Horovitz and Michael DeLuca; the screenwriters, Aaron Sorkin and Steven Zaillain; and the author of the book <i>Moneyball</i>, Michael Lewis. Then out came the stars, and they were blinding. The delightful and talented Kerris Dorsey (Beane’s daughter in the film); Chris Pratt (Scott Hatteberg); Phillip Seymour Hoffman (Art Howe); a slim and almost unrecognizable Jonah Hill (Hill plays a fictional character Peter Brand, a conglomerate of the computer geniuses who came up with the Moneyball concept, based primarily on the real-life Paul DePodesta) and then... Bennet began introduction that rapidly turned into “Oh you know who he is... BRAD PITT” ::insert roar of crowd here:: They thanked us for coming. The lights began to dim.<br />
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As the lights went down, the fans in the back began to chant again. “Let’s Go Oakland, Let's Go Oakland” followed by the drumbeat <i>clap clap clap clap clap</i> and as they were descending the stairs, Brad Pitt, Aaron Sorkin and Phillip Seymour Hoffman all paused and spontaneously joined in, essentially leading it for several moments. Golden. Oakland couldn’t have planned a moment like that in a million years. Enthusiasm so infectious that even the larger-than-life Hollywood types could not resist it. The wallflower had been asked to dance. By the Prince, no less. I will never forget it. In those few minutes, it was hard not to be romantic about Hollywood.<br />
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From the moment the lights went out, I was on the edge of my seat. Perfectly paced, engrossing film, the backdrop in every scene authentically familiar. I’ve been going to games at the Coliseum since it was built. Pitt is a brilliant Beane, engaging, reflective, and madly in love with the game. Jonah Hill was funny and introspective, in a perfectly natural way that spoke volumes. The rest of the cast is brilliant, the running jokes funny. The East Bay’s own Stephen Bishop does a turn as David Justice that is believable and entertaining. Inspired. <br />
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If the audience was any kind of a focus group, they have a huge hit on their hands. Being at a premiere is a unique experience as, aside from the glitz, it turns the two-dimensional experience of a film into live theater. The performers are there. They can hear your applause, your laughter, or your disapproval. They get the real-time feedback of a Broadway show, which is of course, one of the reasons they hold premieres. It adds an incredible layer of suspense as the audience becomes a vital part of the show. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and one I will not soon forget. I won’t spoil the movie with details about the plot. Suffice it to say that it’s a compelling story, and they tell it perfectly. If you love baseball, it’s a must see. If you love Oakland, same deal.<br />
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As we left the theater, we remarked on the only theme other than baseball that had permeated the evening. “This is so good for Oakland.” In the theater and outside, everyone was high on the City-that-couldn’t-get-a-prom-date’s evening as Cinderella at the ball. Great stuff.<br />
Now if we could just land a Westfield-style Mall smack in the heart of downtown. <br />
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As we walked to dinner at Picán (obligatory food reference), my husband remarked on how perfect the timing was. He reminded me that even ten years ago, there was not much “there there.” Everyone leaving now had the opportunity to walk to a world-class restaurant to experience a first class meal. Our choice was Picán, but Luka’s, Plum, Flora, Ozumo, Nex, Tamarindo, Hawker Fare and Hibiscus are all within a few blocks, are all first-class and represent a variety of settings and price-ranges. It was a big happy block party, to which everyone was invited. It was evident that no one felt threatened on the streets that night. We could all have been strolling through a boisterous post-theater crowd in Manhattan. Oakland’s glittering coach had pulled up and we were all invited aboard. It was hard not to be romantic about Oakland.<br />
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Bottom line. <b><i> Moneyball</i></b>. Check it out. Make a memory of your own, and while you’re at it, check out the real thing. Go see an A’s game come spring. This could be the year. It’s hard not to be romantic about baseball.The Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4122116860652110072.post-15057934364140467652011-09-07T22:02:00.000-07:002011-11-09T15:39:18.383-08:00FOOD TRUCK MAFIA (NEWARK) - The Dog (and Burger) Days of Summer...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WHo1U1JX1KM/Tmgtroxi1PI/AAAAAAAAB10/CxBsLFd9tD8/s1600/sm.sign.FTMafia+%25287%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WHo1U1JX1KM/Tmgtroxi1PI/AAAAAAAAB10/CxBsLFd9tD8/s320/sm.sign.FTMafia+%25287%2529.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
September.<br />
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The end of summer. Though in California September usually brings the beginning of the hottest season of the year, it officially marks the end of our balmy, beachy out-of-school days. The hours of daylight grow shorter as the bright blue-gold sunlight turns to amber, as though to coordinate with the papery leaves that will soon flutter down from the trees. When I was a kid, summer meant lazy days spent boating, waterskiing the many canals and throughways of the Sacramento River Delta. <br />
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My childhood memories of summer are vivid. The smell off the water, vaguely fishy and tinged with mud, everywhere it ran brown and murky and deep. The yellow speedboat that carried us was fast, so fast everything around was a blur, a rush of reeds, gold and green, like living sunlight as we thumped hard against the river delta. The waves splashing up over the bow left a soft mist on my face that the sunlight and the wind would whip away as soon as it was deposited. Those glorious trips across the open water were something splendid. There was little speaking, just the roar of the engine churning the water, the air rushing against my ears and the constant sun on my skin. And that glorious smell of the rich delta mud. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB8j7Q9vI5SrdcDjb0Gvmy0utmOGfaWuoJzwOb-jCenh-iLcYJDrfLfkeZ3G9ONiH9eYTrmuggiuxf3vPK1Pxg4fVB-w1T1Dg1cUPfWTo80rjxFa0f1l9LIBx0FIcsbOA4BAVzJLv585w/s1600/sm.empanadas.FTMafia+%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB8j7Q9vI5SrdcDjb0Gvmy0utmOGfaWuoJzwOb-jCenh-iLcYJDrfLfkeZ3G9ONiH9eYTrmuggiuxf3vPK1Pxg4fVB-w1T1Dg1cUPfWTo80rjxFa0f1l9LIBx0FIcsbOA4BAVzJLv585w/s320/sm.empanadas.FTMafia+%25288%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot, Crunchy Outside -<br />
Creamy Inside -<br />
Shrimp & Cheese Empanadas</td></tr>
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Our final trip was always in late September or early October. Those last days of summer carried their own kind of magic. My father called them Indian Summer, and they signaled not just a return to school from a time of what seemed like endless freedom, but a kind of communal closure as we all moved into fall together. The drive home on our last outing always seemed to bear a harvest moon. It hung in the sky, large and luminous over the Delta, visible out the back window of my father’s car as we drove home for the final time. That moon in my long-ago childhood memory still lingers in the sky, a perfect orb of yellow gold.<br />
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September begins our journey into fall, and Labor Day weekend signals the dog days are upon us. A uniquely American holiday, this three-day weekend is more than back-to-school specials and furniture sales. It is a shared kiss goodbye to our collective summer vacation. Everyone, everywhere has fired up their backyard grill one last time. Goodbyes are often bittersweet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JZRydXFIYtg/TmgtlZyHjII/AAAAAAAAB1M/Xsjb41tc3m8/s1600/sm.cheesyfries.FTMafia+%252814%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JZRydXFIYtg/TmgtlZyHjII/AAAAAAAAB1M/Xsjb41tc3m8/s320/sm.cheesyfries.FTMafia+%252814%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crazy Fries. Crazy, man.</td></tr>
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This past weekend, the question arose in our household of how to mark this auspicious occasion and give sweet summer a proper sendoff? An effective scout, the BH often discovers foodie-related tidbits while reading his morning paper. Openings, events and happenings. He happened to run across an event that sounded perfect: a gathering of the <b>Food Truck Mafia</b>, culinary gypsies who travel from one location to another to bring their individual brands of tasty treats to the hungry. The Food Truck Mafia was scheduled to be at Newpark Mall on Monday. Being Labor Day itself, this event seemed the perfect way to celebrate the end of summer. After quickly double-checking the schedule we planned our final day off around it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SKstIBVzqlM/Tmgtqw2BGaI/AAAAAAAAB1w/34MfMv7tTFI/s1600/sm.grilltruck.FT.Mafia.outer+017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SKstIBVzqlM/Tmgtqw2BGaI/AAAAAAAAB1w/34MfMv7tTFI/s320/sm.grilltruck.FT.Mafia.outer+017.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grillstars manage a crowd of The Hungry!</td></tr>
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The trucks set up and begin serving at 4:30, running until 9:00 pm. We got there at five, and were immediately greeted by strains of Michael Jackson at a high volume, a heavy-set DJ playing boisterous dance tunes for the crowd. The afternoon weather was gorgeous, more like mid-summer than September, and the crowds were diverse. A collection of every age and color, all gathered under the Blue Top for some grub. It felt like an oversized block party. They had provided several tables to make eating some of the more challenging carry away cuisines easier. Children ran from one truck to another, squealing out their choices for dinner to parents who could barely hear over the booming music. Everywhere a variety of locals and shoppers who had wandered out of the mall to see what was going on were chowing down on a plethora of cuisines. The colorful trucks formed a big “U”, not unlike chuck-wagons circled to feed the field hands after a six-month tour on the cattle trails. Yet there were no marauding Indians in sight. The mood was festive and the smells welcoming.<br />
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In an attempt to be scientific in our ordering, and to make sure we sampled as much as was possible on a first visit, we walked by each of the trucks to absorb their menus before ordering. It rapidly became clear we wouldn’t be able to sample anything close to everything, even one item per truck was overly ambitious. We soldiered on, narrowing our choices to four savory and two sweet dishes. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7fSmqd2eJIY/Tmgtk4l_jmI/AAAAAAAAB1E/r_PEze3BQvU/s1600/sm.butt.shrimp.FTMafia+%252820%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7fSmqd2eJIY/Tmgtk4l_jmI/AAAAAAAAB1E/r_PEze3BQvU/s320/sm.butt.shrimp.FTMafia+%252820%2529.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Butterfly Shrimp</td></tr>
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We began with a threesome of <b>Shrimp & Cheese Empanadas</b>, mini hot pockets of spicy goodness, served hot out of the fryer (and I mean hot) offered up by the first truck whose wares we sampled, <b>Marisco's El Malecon</b>. We found a couple of seats at a communal table and enjoyed a few bites of our empanadas. Since it was their party, we were in agreement that we had to sample something from <b>Grillstars</b> and I’d selected (and ordered) a side-dish they were offering titled <b>“Crazy Fries”</b>. After placing that order, I imagined I would be handed a basket of fries and go off to sit with BH until we polished them off. Best laid plans and all, the wait turned out to be over twenty minutes. (Tho well worth it taste-wise, the standing around was not particularly pleasurable. I wonder if there might be a better way to call out orders to keep people from having to stand while they wait for their meals to come up.) Making the best of the wait, I observed a little of the food truck culture firsthand. The salesgirl from El Malecon came over to order a burger, and Grillstars’ chef insisted that her money was no good there. It would appear to be the custom that food trucks feed one another’s staff for free. Like family. Classy.<br />
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After my twenty minutes of running over to our table for a bite of empanada and running back to the <b>Grillstars'</b> truck to wait on my order, I was at last presented with a gimongous order of hot-out-of-the-fryer french fries, beautifully cradled in piles of smoky grilled beef, creamy nacho cheese, crumbled bacon and a lovely little dollop of fresh sour cream. Every bite was covered with toppings, and every mouthful of the crumbled burger meat carried the lovely smoky flavor of freshly-grilled beef. Absolutely worth the long wait. The cheese was a nice gooey consistency, sticking to the fries without being gummy, the bacon bits and sour cream coming together nicely, adding their own tasty music to the mix. It was the best plate of “topping” fries I’ve ever had. All for around four bucks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twisted Chill serves up organic<br />
Soft Serve</td></tr>
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Next up was the <b>Butterfly Shrimp & Dipping Sauces</b> from <b>Bigg Shrimp’n</b>. These kids know their shrimp— we were served large, beautifully butterflied, whole prawns fried up in a light golden almost tempura-style batter that was almost effervescent. Closer to cotton-candy than dough. The sauces were fresh, made in-house, and just delicious. We tried the <b>Sweet & Sour</b> (reminiscent of a Thai tomato-garlic sauce, it bore no relation to the thick red sauce of my takeout-Chinese childhood) and a <b>Seafood Cocktail Sauce</b>. <b>Bigg Shrimp’n</b>’s Cocktail mixture was mildly spicy, with fresh horseradish being beautifully blended with fresh, ripe tomatoes. Right then I was diggin’ the fresh trend in food prep.<br />
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Next I tried the <b>Lamb Curry</b> offered up by <b>Munch India</b>. The meat was tender and fluffy and the curry mild yet packed with flavor. The basmati rice was aromatic and light, and served as a perfect foil to carry the thick sauce over the lamb. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creamy Soft Serve covered <br />
in yummy strawberries,<br />
toasted coconut & chips</td></tr>
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By the time we’d finished off our four savory treats we were ready to move to dessert. We went first to the colorful blue truck with the pretty girl on the side (fun design). <b>Twisted Chill</b> is run by <b>Jesse Soares & Michael Moules</b> and the duo serves up a non-dairy soft serve. Now ordinarily I’m a fan of “real deal” foods, but their organic take on this American favorite was no joke. The creamy delicious red velvet version was sweet without being overly so, the flavor unique and craveable and the mouthfeel was creamier than a teenager’s pillow. The guys offer up all manner of fresh fruit from within the truck and an assortment of dry organic cereals, chips, sprinkles and other treats in the self serve compartment outside the truck. In addition to serving up great desserts, the guys are affable and informative. I think they will do very well at this.<br />
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Our last stop was at <b>That’s Sweet! Desserts</b>, a cupcake and assorted baked goods truck whose list of wonderful flavor combos taunted us with it’s variety. We settled on a <b>Coconut Chocolate</b>, <b>Chocolate Orange</b>, <b>Sea Salt and Caramel</b> and a mini <b>Peach Pie</b>. The BH and I have at this point consumed every last bite, but I was in love with my first mouthful of the <b>Chocolate Orange</b>. Moist, kissed with citrus and just sweet enough, this gal can bake. Lucky us. We had the Sea Salt later that night and the hint of salt and finish of toasted caramel, still linger on my palate urging me to return for more.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CWGbgOZnTmU/TmgtlBm1l_I/AAAAAAAAB1I/yLeGhHo2N4U/s1600/sm.caramel.cupck.FTMafia+%252830%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CWGbgOZnTmU/TmgtlBm1l_I/AAAAAAAAB1I/yLeGhHo2N4U/s320/sm.caramel.cupck.FTMafia+%252830%2529.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea Salt & Caramel Cupcake</td></tr>
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The experience was a delight. I’m a fan of fine dining, but who’s the rule guy who says a great food experience can’t be found on a truck in paper containers? Not I. These gatherings are a perfect time to gather with friends and family, enjoy the fading sunlight as the days grow shorter until the damp months are upon us and we are forced to retreat back into our homes to shelter in place until the sun, and the trucks return.<br />
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Their schedule can be found on <b>Facebook</b> at the <b>Food Truck Mafia page</b>. Check it out. Make a memory of your own. Have the crazy fries, I dare you!<br />
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Among the Participants:<br />
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Phil Woodman & Patrick Clarke’s <b>GrillStars</b><br />
Food Truck Mafia - Facebook<br />
@Grillstars - Twitter<br />
http://www.thegrillstars.com<br />
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<b>Bigg Shrimp’n</b> - Facebook<br />
@BiggShrimpn - Twitter<br />
http://www.biggshrimpn.com <br />
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Jose Hernandez <b>Marisco's El Malecon</b><br />
Facebook under Food Truck Mafia<br />
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Chef Diana Afroza’s <b>Munch India</b><br />
Munch India - Facebook<br />
@munchindia - Twitter<br />
www.munchindia.com<br />
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Jess Soares & Michael Moules’ <b>Twisted Chill</b><br />
Twisted Chill - Facebook<br />
@chilltruck - Twitter<br />
<br />
<b>That’s Sweet! Desserts</b><br />
That's Sweet! Dessert Truck - Facebook<br />
@thatssweettruck - Twitter<br />
http://www.ThatsSweetBakery.comThe Food Apprecianadohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15239086968284841820noreply@blogger.com0