Posted by Anita on 08.01.06 7:40 AM
Last night after work, we interviewed Architect #3 for the kitchen/bath/laundry remodel (more about that later, and elsewhere). At the end of the meeting, we realized that it was already almost 9pm, and we really had no desire to cook, or to wait around for food to be delivered. We originally were going to go to Valentina, but when we got there, there were only 2 tables occupied, and both of them looked to be near the end of their meals. Not wanting to incur the wrath of the waitstaff — or eat in an empty restaurant — we turned back down Cortland and headed to Chez Maman.
We’ve ended up making Chez M. our default on the hill. The food rates 3 stars, maybe even 2 on a bad day. But the manager, Olivier, is such a sweetheart, and the ambiance is so appealing that you can’t help but be won over. (We haven’t seen Monsieur O. lately, but a co-worker who eats there even more often then we do says we must be going on the wrong nights…) I’m a sucker for their hachis parmentier — who doesn’t love shepherd’s pie with a french accent? — and their croque monsieur. Neither one of them are life-changing, or even worth a drive across town, but that’s beside the point.
It’s maddening when they send out a crepe with the cheese still cold and unmelted in the center, or a salad missing one of its key ingredients. But, on the other hand, at these prices I’m willing to put up with missteps in the kitchen; I just wish they were more of an exception than a rule. They always make it right…. eventually. And you have to love a place that’s open nonstop from coffee through nightcaps.
Every neighborhood needs a bistro, and I’m glad that Chez Maman is ours.
Chez Maman
803 Cortland Avenue
San Francisco, CA 94110
415.824.2674
Bernal, restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 07.14.06 9:33 AM
After our first dinner at Cortez few months back, we were pleasantly surprised. The food was creative without being avant-garde, the cocktails were both well-planned and well-executed, and the service was warm but professional. We’ve gone back a couple of times for drinks at the bar. We love the rosemary popcorn, and the house Manhattan — made with Hirsch bourbon and brandied cherries — is one of my favorite drinks in town.
When we had dinner there last night, the food didn’t seem as inspired (maybe the novelty’s worn off?), but everything was at least good. The hanger steak was a little liver-y for my taste, but the accompanying onion rings remained truly divine. Other standouts included lemon verbena ice cream (which was an accompaniment to a lackluster apricot dessert), and a salad garnished with wafer-thin slices of manchego and serrano ham. The katafi-crusted crab cake was fairly pedestrian and a little heavy, and exterior of the lobster ravioli a bit chewy — although they put the hockey-pucks we had at Mamma Maria to shame. On the positive side, the service was just as wonderful as we remembered.
The decor manages to be modern-contemporary without feeling the slightest bit sterile. The light fixtures are works of art, and the noise is subdued by beautiful cork wallcoverings on the structural columns and doors leading into a private dining room.
All in all, a fabulous pre-theater option, and a great place to have a cocktail.
Cortez Restaurant
550 Geary Street (inside the Hotel Adagio)
San Francisco, CA 94102
415.292.6360
downtown SF, restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 07.02.06 9:17 AM
On the advice of some friends from MouthfulsFood, we made the trek over to the Somerville/Cambridge border for dinner at East Coast Grill and Raw Bar.
Two minor quibbles: First, it's difficult to get to without a car — the nearest T stop is about 3/4 of a mile away, and when it's 90° and 90% humidity, you will feel every one of those 3,960 feet. The other downside is that the place is practically legendary for having lines out the door, but still they manage to have no room to wait in the bar. Those two things — and those alone — are the only barriers between this place and restaurant perfection.
We loved the great white-wine sangria, justifiably famous tuna tacos and "wet bone" ribs; other barbecue items aren't nearly as impressive. The meat in my brisket sandwich was a touch dry, and the sauce was too-sweet and unremarkable. The wet bones have a slightly Asian taste to them, and are much, much better. We were told that the striped bass was a must-order dish if it was available. It was, and it was!
I thought the prices were really a good value for the quality. The decor is a little 80s-dated — Nagel called, and he wants his wall sconces back — but the atmosphere is so funky and friendly that you can't help but be won over.
East Coast Grill and Raw Bar
1271 Cambridge Street
Cambridge, MA 02139
617.491.6568
Boston, food boards, restaurants, travel
Comments Off on The raw and the cooked
Posted by Anita on 07.01.06 9:09 AM
A bit of backstory: Cameron and I went to Mamma Maria on our first serious date, 10 years ago. We've eaten there a few times over the years, and found the food to be as good as we remembered. But, after eating here last month for our 10th anniversary, I have to say that this place seems to have taken a serious turn for the worse.
All of the food was at least a level below the quality you'd expect for the price. In particular, my lobster ravioli were terrible: the pasta was pasty and gluey, the filling was badly seasoned, and the size of them made them feel more like empanadas than anything italian — too huge by an order of magnitude.
The service was utterly terrible: Our waiter ignored us for part of the meal, brought Cameron the wrong glass of wine (and then sneered at us when we pointed out his error, insinuating that we couldn't tell one wine from another by taste alone), and didn't do anything at all other than take our order and bring our food — at this level, the server should be an active part of making the dining experience pleasant, which he certainly was not.
We left without ordering dessert, sad to see such a sentimental favorite fall so far.
Mamma Maria
3 North Square
Boston, MA 02113
617.523.0077
Boston, restaurants, travel
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Posted by Anita on 06.29.06 9:39 AM
We’ve talked about going to Chanterelle for years, ever since we bought David Waltuck’s Staff Meals cookbook and fell in love. Anyone who cooks this well for their own employees, we reasoned, must do truly amazing things for their diners.
We’ve been to NYC a few times over the years, but something always conspired to keep us from visiting Chanterelle. We were determined that this time, we’d go. And so, exactly a month before our arrival, I called and made a reservation.
And now we’re here. Since it’s about a gillion degrees outside — and probably a gillion and twenty in the subway — we sprung for taxi from the flat we’re renting with family, determined to arrive relaxed and cool. The driver dropped us at the corner, and we spent a few puzzled minutes trying to find the place. Surely it couldn’t be the unmarked place over there that looks like a gay banker’s boudoir?
But, indeed it is. The atmosphere is odd — the gauzy balloon shades covering the windows look like they haven’t gotten an update since the place opened in the 80s, and the wide-open room seems sparse, not elegant. No banquettes or booths… just a few tables, overly fragrant floral arrangements, acres of plush carpet, and deathly silence. Very much the old-school stuffy French restaurant vibe: I kept expecting John Belushi to pop up and ask “how much for your weemin? how much for the leetle girl?”
We opted for the tasting menu and wine pairings. I’ll try to find the copy of the menu that they gave us — unrequested, I might add — and report back. At the moment, though, nothing really stands out about the food, other than that the foie gras course was appropriately sized (unlike the usual trying-too-hard gigantic slabs that ruin your appetite for the rest of the meal), the cheese trolley selections were impressive, and the basil souffle for dessert was very strange. Service was good overall, with a few glitches: More than once, our wines didn’t make it to the table before the course they were supposed to accompany; we got served the same wine twice — once with the foie and once with dessert — by mistake; and we kept getting handed from server to server when our main waiter would disappear.
In short, it just wasn’t quite the impressive experience you’d expect at these high prices. And high prices they are: We spent almost $600 for two, after tax and tip. Nothing was bad, almost everything was quite good, but nothing was amazing, stunning, or otherwise impressive. And frankly, I’d rather have three $200 meals — or two trips to the French Laundry — than eat here again.
Chanterelle
2 Harrison Street
New York, NY 10013
212.966.6960
cookbooks, NYC, restaurants
Comments Off on Great expectations
Posted by Anita on 06.04.06 9:52 AM
Where, oh where, to begin?
We arrived at Quince — one of SF’s newish hot tables — a few minutes before our 8pm reservation, and were asked to wait… in the doorway. The hostess apologized multiple times (to the point where I finally told her to stop) and brought us a wine list. But still, we’re standing in the doorway — there’s no bar, no waiting area, not even a chair to perch on. We ended up getting seated about 15 minutes after 8, and summarily ignored by our server for another 10 minutes. Adding to all the fun, we were seated millimeters away from a boistrous table of two couples in their late 40s, bragging about their European second homes and the new-college-grad offspring they were intent upon supporting because “there’s no need to torture them” with hourly-wage work. (roll eyes)
The food was… well, not up to the hype. There were a lot of pristine ingredients, and a lot of pretty plating techniques, but not a whole lot of interesting tastes happening.
First courses: The asparagus and deep-fried egg starter was lovely, but nothing that anyone with access to good produce couldn’t accomplish at home. And frankly, it needed salt. Cameron’s pig-foot salad was more like two mini crabcakes with a garnish of leaves around the band of the plate — it had nothing of the lip-smacking, porky, gelatinous beauty of the trotter about it, and the sauce was underwhelming. (And no, I don’t mean “subtle”.) And, I’m sorry — I appreciate the idea of variations on a theme — but something described as a “salad” on the menu should have some vegetable matter on the plate other than parsley.
Pasta course: My spaghetti amatriciana was my favorite part of the dinner, but it was so sloppily presented — especially compared to our first courses and other plates I’d seen go by — that I couldn’t help but wonder how it got smacked into the bowl. Served on a lukewarm plate, slightly undercooked and tepid spaghetti was topped with a lovely sauce of tomato, guanciale and red peppers… it made me want nothing more than a real bowl full of it, with a side of bread and a big jug of chianti. Cameron’s papardelle with quail was also too al dente, and oversalted to the point of being practically inedible (and we love salt, trust me).
For my main, I had a hard time choosing something that sounded appealing. There were no pork options, and no beef, either. Not wanting to wimp out and order the chicken, and not liking the sound of any of the seafood, I opted for the rack of veal. It arrived pre-sliced (arrrrgh!), slopped onto the plate looking like someone’s leftovers, and garnished with one raggedy bone from the rack! And, once again, cold plate, lukewarm food. It was also noticably -under- salted, just like my appetizer. (Can’t someone figure out how to season back there??) The accompanying potato “gratinata” was closer to the mark, but rather grainy and chalky. Cameron’s sweetbreads were overdone, and nothing to write home about.
By the time we got to dessert, there was a pileup of people waiting to be seated, at least a dozen people crammed into the doorway and hovering over the short glass partition in front of our table. Some of them had been waiting for 30-45 minutes by the time they took their seats, and were visibly peeved. Making people wait? OK. Making people wait without a place to sit or stay out of the way? Possible…but borderline. Making people wait for 45 minutes without a place to sit at a high-end place? Unforgivable!
Oh, and did I mention that it’s SO LOUD in there that we literally couldn’t hear one another across a very small two-top?
Not really satisfied by our dinners, we glanced at the dessert menu. I opted for the meyer lemon tartlet with raspberries, and my husband ordered the profiteroles. My dessert looked lovely, but featured an inedibly bitter and burnt crust, amatuerish lemon curd, and disgustigly underripe berries. (I spit out the first bite into my napkin, and nobody ever asked me if anything was amiss.) Cameron’s profiteroles came with a layered terrine slice of three gelati — a delightful cacao-nib flavor and two other forgettable riffs on chocolate. Unfortunately, the profiteroles themselves were no great shakes, and the cherries were so flacid that they weren’t worth eating.
Service was bizarre, starting with the hyper-apologetic hostess, and continuing through the nervous-tic rearranging of glasses and silver by the manager (stop touching my tableware!), and our server’s spokesmodel-like flourishes when presenting wine bottles for approval.
Price for all this was $320 (including tax and tip) for 4 courses, plus 2 stems of prosecco, a half bottle of french Rose and another half of Merry Edwards Pinot Noir.
The food was generally tasty, and the level of execution would have been fine — even remarkable — at a neighborhood restaurant. But at these prices, food should be uniformly lovely, interestingly prepared, and properly seasoned. We definitely won’t be going back for another round.
Quince
1701 Octavia Street
San Francisco, CA 94123
415.775.8500
restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 05.02.06 10:35 AM
Always on the prowl for better breakfast, we tried out Ann’s Doughtnut Sandwich Shop for breakfast last weekend (based on a postive review on Yelp), and.. wow… I mean, I never though I would get nostalgic for the mediocre eats at Al’s Cafe Good Food.
First of all, service was surly. We were grunted to a table, and had threadbare menus shoved at us. Actually, make that ‘menu’, singular — did the waiter really want us to share? Uh, yeah. Sorry, I don’t read upside-down in the morning. After trying unsuccessfully to get the waiter’s attention, we got up and got a second menu off the counter.
Then we tried to order, only to find out that they don’t make poached eggs?? WTF!? I thought this was a coffee shop. Given the choice of scrambled or over-easy, I went with scrambled. No English muffins or sourdough, either — you’ll take white or wheat …and *like* it.
We were practically the only people in the place, but for some reason our food took forever to come. When it finally materialized, it looked like a dog’s breakfast. The hashbrowns were cooked in nasty artificial-tasting griddle grease, and were totally pale, cold, and underdone. The eggs, on the other hand, were rubbery and over cooked. I don’t expect much from diner corned-beef hash from a can, but it should at least be heated through and preferably a little crispy (this was neither). Oh, and as for my toast? Nasty bread with cheap margarine. (–shudder–)
While we were attempting to eat, a guy came in and sat at the counter, and asked for eggs with three slices of bacon, instead of the two slices listed on the menu.
Waiter: “No, it comes with two.”
Customer: “Well, I’d like three.”
Waiter: “No!”
Customer: “What do you mean, “No!”? I’ll pay for it!”
Waiter: “Get out of here!”
(customer gets up, slams menu on the counter, and leaves)
Waiter: “And DON’T COME BACK!”
I felt sick most of the day after eating here. I can put up with mediocre food, as long as it’s made with love. But this meal was obviously made with an extra helping of contempt.
Ann’s Doughtnut Sandwich Shop
4488 Mission Street
San Francisco, CA 94112
415.334.1761
breakfast, restaurants
Comments Off on A side order of angst
Posted by Anita on 03.16.06 10:17 AM
Don’t underestimate how hard it is to get a table at Dosa: Kathy, Neil, Cameron and I tried to walk in and eat here a couple of weeks ago, and gave up. Trying to work within the system, we gathered up 2 more friends — Dosa takes reservations for groups of 5 or more — and emailed early the next week to get a table. After 3 days without a response, I called and left voicemail. A very sweet woman called me back and apologized for the problem, and found us a table at the time we wanted.
Needless to say, my expectations ran pretty high after all of this rigamarole. Largely, I think they were met. The food is interesting, tasty, flavorful without being incendiary, and thoughtfully presented. Service was crisp but a little stand-offish, and our server was very helful when it came time to figure out what (and how much) to order — once we asked.
I was really pleased with how reasonable the prices were. For less than $45 per person, including tax and tip, we had 2 bottles of wine and a handful of beers, plus a ton of food. Our order included a refreshing chickpea salad, a pair of appetizers — crispy-spicy potato croquets and lush lentil dumplings — three dosai (paneer, egg, and rava masala), and two of the curries: a deeply spiced Tamil lamb, and a prawn coconut masala… oh, and a giant bathura. Each dosa came with its own bowl of sambar, plus two smooth chutneys: a gingery coconut one and a spicy tomato version. Needless to say, we didn’t have room for dessert, although I was tempted by the cardamom ice cream.
On the downside: The tables are awfully close together, the noise level is out of hand, the decor is warm but a tad bit stark — some art on the walls would help. Worst of all, the hordes of drooling, hovering patrons (staring daggers while you try to enjoy dinner) is really, really annoying. The hosts were letting people hang out in the dining area, not just the bar, and I found that extremely inappropriate.
If I could make a reservation for a party of 2 or 4, or better yet, walk in on a weeknight with a reasonable expectation of a table becoming available within the space of a leisurely cocktail, I’d become a regular. But given the hassle factor, I can’t imagine it being more than an occasional thing. I hope that once things calm down a bit, the owners might consider opening at least a few tables to reservations, while leaving the majority open for walk-ins.
Dosa
995 Valencia Street
San Francisco, CA 94110
415.642.3672
restaurants, The Mission
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Posted by Anita on 03.15.06 10:02 AM
Back in the ancient days, before I was Mrs. — yea verily before the dot-com boom — Boulevard was the place we always went for special occasions. We dined here Monday night to celebrate Cameron’s newfound employment, and it tickles me to no end that Boulevard is just as good as ever.
The service has gotten a little more sniffy, the clientele noticeably more swank, and the prices (never a bargain to begin with) have climbed proportionally. But the Beaux Arts decor is still gorgeous, the wine list is still deep without being impenetrable, and — most importantly — the food’s still creative without being too far out in left field.
There were a couple of missteps in our recent dinner — a desperately over-dressed salad, a server who left us sitting without water or drinks or so much as an “I’ll be right with you” for nearly 15 minutes, an awkward gap between the appetizers and the mains — but all was forgiven when our entrees arrived.
My heirloom pork chop was easily the best pig I have eaten in the states, perfectly cooked and richly porky with a perfectly salty, herbal flavor. And the accompanying pyramid-shaped raviolo was like a minature meal in itself: mascarpone mashed potatoes on the bottom, with shredded wild boar ragu in the top. Yum!
It’s nice when old standbys age well. I hope that Boulevard will still be around serving excellent food when we’re celebrating our 20th anniversary.
Boulevard
1 Mission Street
San Francisco, CA 94105
415.543.6084
downtown SF, restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 02.16.06 10:23 AM
We had a lovely dinner at Mamacita for my birthday. The food was great, and the waitstaff was competent and helpful.
We started with an order of very good guacamole, then some chilaquiles. The latter was very spicy and a little odd — creamy chipotle sauce? — but reasonably tasty. I wouldn’t order them again, though. Good carnitas tacos, perfectly prepared Rancho Gordo frijoles de olla, and a surprisingly good bistek. We didn’t have room for dessert, not that they looked terribly interesting.
The server told us off the bat we’d probably only want 3 items for the 2 of us, so we weren’t surprised that we’d ordered too much food. Still, with 2 margaritas and 2 cervezas, the bill was really reasonable… somewhere in the $60-70 range. Considering the location and the level they’re playing at, we were very, very happy with the value.
I think the only downsides were the snotty hostess who kept talking to all the Marina chickies who came in after us before deigning to ask us what the hell we wanted, the clueless Marina clientele (I could almost hear them thinking “Ew, this isn’t like El Torito!”), the parking, and the lackluster margaritas.
We’ll definitely go back…
Mamacita
2317 Chestnut Street
San Francisco, CA 94123
415.346.8494
Mexican, restaurants
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