Posted by Anita on 09.07.06 4:23 PM
After waiting expectantly for word of the Bourbon & Branch grand opening, we made reservations a few days ago. We received an email moments later with the speakeasy’s top-secret address — but alas, no secret password. We arrived a bit early for our 8pm reservation last night, and found the location without much trouble, thanks to an amusing sign. After buzzing the doorbell, we were admitted to an incredibly dark space and greeted by the bartender; a hostess asked for our reservation details and seated us after some initial confusion.
As our eyes adjusted, we saw that our booth’s table was actually a tapered, foot-wide plank with an inset mirror. It was difficult to read the menu — a multipage tome housed between wooden covers with the new B&B logo laser-etched into the grain — by the light of the small oil candle, but we recognized a few worthy favorites from our Zig Zag days, including the Aviation and the Drink with No Name.
Once we fully got our bearings, the space felt more than a little hokey, like a community-theater set for a working-class ’20s bar. We both loved the pressed-tin ceiling and the multilevel layout, but the red flocked brothel-style wallpaper seems rather twee, and the whitewashed brick wall behind the bar, garnished with votives in glass holders, feels more Southwestern than speakeasy. Even the bathroom design was more than a little off: black walls, black floor, black loo, black basin… lit by four candles and a single dim bulb. Honestly, is it too much to ask for a little light?
After a thorough perusal of the menu — accomplished while twitching every time my eyes lit on one of a dozen typos — I opted for a drink called The Avenue: Bulliet bourbon, Calvados, passionfruit juice, grenadine, and orange-flower water; Cameron asked for an Aviation. Our waitress (a laconic Latina sporting a plunging neckline and an utterly unnecessary push-up bra) returned a few moments later, letting me know that they were out of the juice for my drink. I reverted to my standby, the Old Fashioned, heartened by the menu’s claim that B&B uses the original recipe. I also asked for a glass of water, and she offered still, sparkling, or tap. Maybe I don’t get out enough, but this was a first for me: Paying to stay hydrated in a bar.
Drinks arrived promptly, and we started to notice the table’s flaws. Even with only two of us at a four-top, it seemed impossible not to find something — a glass, a candle, a bulky menu — to knock, nudge, or otherwise propel into the darkness. Cam pronounced his Aviation heavy on the juice; I thought it tasted good, if not particularly balanced. My OF was served in a properly sized glass, a diminutive single-rocks number. As I sipped it, it became apparent that its only fruit was the wide lemon-twist garnish… no muddled orange!? Believe you me, I despise those fizzy messes of mash that most bars pass off as Old Fashioneds, but this vintage version was a bit too austere for my tastes. (Still, it’s hard to complain too much about a barkeep reverting to an antique formula.) My water was refilled as needed; Cameron was never even offered his own glass — a mortal sin in my book. Good bars serve water without asking, and keep glasses full; you’re happy while you’re drinking, and you’re even happier the next morning.
Our second round included a Vesper for Cameron — not listed on the menu, but properly concocted (with perhaps a gilding of orange bitters?) and served in a petite v-glass — and a Spanish Rose for me. The latter was noted in the menu as one of the bar’s signature “drinks from people we like,” credited to a former Enrico’s cocktail-slinger. The recipe included Plymouth gin, Licor 43, lemon (juice, presumably?) and a sprig of rosemary. Sounds good so far? Picture it served in a tip-prone red-wine glass, over an astounding amount of ice. It tasted pretty good, but I was utterly embarrassed to drink this foofy pink monstrosity in a place that’s so damned cocktailian that they prohibit patrons from ordering a Cosmo.
We gave up our table well before our two-hour slot elapsed, having run out of excuses for staying. We’ll come back and give B&B another whirl some night at the bar — the folks up there definitely seemed to be having a more interesting time.
Bourbon & Branch
a secret location near Jones & O’Farrell
San Francisco, CA 94102
bar culture, downtown SF, drinks
2 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 09.06.06 10:50 AM
Mom had a craving for pizza, but we wanted to stick around the house to be with Dad. It was way too hot to turn on the oven, so we considered the grill. Cook’s Illustrated had a grilled pizza recipe [*link removed] that sounded pretty good (and less elaborate than the Mario version in Food+Wine), so off we went.
We had a little chicken left from dinner the previous night, and plenty of basil from a friend’s garden. Mushrooms, fresh tomatoes, and mozzarella cheese rounded out the toppings.
The dough’s pretty wet, so it takes a well-floured hand — and all the tricks listed in the recipe — to get it rolled out. Even then, three of the four pizzas more closely resembled free-form amoebas than nice, round pies. But they sure did taste good… maybe not as good as real pizza, but a nice weeknight option (and a great way to use up leftovers).
—
* Edited to add: We removed the link to the Cook’s Illustrated pizza recipe in July 2008 in protest of their bullying tactics.
cooking, family
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Posted by Anita on 09.06.06 10:01 AM
Everyone knows about the natural affinity of pears and blue cheese, but unless you’re a fan (as I am) of the Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market Cookbook, you might not have though of trying peaches avec bleu.
This recipe is good even when you make it with supermarket stuff, as we did… finding local produce in Vegas is virtually impossible. But I promise that you’ll make little grunty noises if you try it with good gorgonzola, perfect peaches, and Acme bread.
Peach Bruschetta with Bleu Cheese
Adapted from Becky Smith’s recipe, as told to Peggy Knickerbocker
4 slices country bread, or 12 slices good baguette cut on the diagonal
2 of the best peaches you can find
extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 pound soft gorgonzola
Halve peaches lengthwise, and remove the pit. Cut each half in half again, and peel each peach quarter. Cut the quarters into 1/4-inch slices, keeping them as flat as possible.
Place the bread slices on a medium grill, and cook until golden brown. Remove from heat and brush with olive oil. Spread with the cheese, and top with the peaches. Eat standing over the sink, slurping the peach juice from your hands.
cookbooks, cooking, farmers markets, recipes, shopping, Vegas
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Posted by Anita on 09.06.06 9:54 AM
…melons.
(apologies to Depeche Mode)
C’mon, it’s Vegas… you didn’t expect a melon joke?
levity, shopping, Vegas
2 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 09.06.06 9:52 AM
Ever since she was a little girl, my sis has been an egg-o-maniac. I know my memory’s got to be faulty, but it seemed that soon as she was tall enough to reach the stove, she was whipping up gorgeous fried eggs every morning before school.
In our house, Cameron has the egg juju (in addition to the biscuit hand and many other culinary skills I covet), and my already mediocre skills have lapsed into downright dustiness. So it stands to reason that when I’m visiting family, it’s Patti who gets called on to turn oeufs into omelettes. I’m tasked with sauteeing mushrooms, pouring juice, or setting the table… and happily so, ’cause I know what’ll be on my plate in mere minutes.
breakfast, cooking, family
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Posted by Anita on 09.06.06 9:43 AM
Pardon my tardiness with the next couple of posts… I’m clearing out a post-holiday backlog. (Or is that back-blog?)
If I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes, I might not believe there really is a restaurant called El Jefe’s. It made me want to walk right up to the hostess desk and ask, in my best Chevy Chase voice: “Do you have anything here besides… Mexican food?”
But the place is indeed real, and, in fact, they do have plenty of things on the menu that would confuse the heck out of the denizens of San Poco. The decor‘s your first clue that perhaps this isn’t your typical combo-plate shack. Obviously, these guys have pretentions, and it shows in the menu.
Now, I’m no purist when it comes to my comida: I love my gringified Mexican places as much as the next SoCal emigrant, and I’m even pretty fond of Mexican fusion, when it’s done right. But even given the fact that they’re obviously shooting straight for my demographic, I couldn’t find anything to latch onto at El Jefe’s. The chips and salsa they brought to the table didn’t give me much hope: The chips were made from a strange combination of flour and corn masa, giving the impression of eating the wrapping from a greasy chimichanga, and both green and red salsas were obviously sweetened.
Even though I wasn’t particularly hungry, I ordered a “Mexican chopped salad” to hedge my bets. The spicy mix of chicken, lettuce, poblanos, pepitas, hominy, and apples wasn’t bad, although, again, someone in the kitchen used a very heavy hand with the sugar when mixing the dressing. For my main, I went with mole chicken enchiladas. They arrived in a soup plate, swimming in sauce and “artfully” drizzled with crema. The chicken was good, if not particularly interesting; the sauce would have been a perfect balance of smoky, spicy and rich, if it hadn’t been marred by an odd fruity sweetness. Accompanying pintos were bland, and white rice was waterlogged… and unnecessary.
The whole experience made me want to go back into the kitchen and ask: “Could it be that you are angry for something else, and you are taking it out on me?”
El Jefe’s Mexican Restaurant & Cantina
9925 S. Eastern Avenue
Las Vegas, NV 89123
702.453.JEFE
Mexican, restaurants, Vegas
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Posted by Anita on 09.05.06 8:29 PM
To a friend’s new job, after a long search.
To my dad being out of the hospital.
To spending time with family.
To my wonderful husband, who takes care of me when I am beyond taking care of myself.
And, last but certainly not least, to finally deciding to quit my job…
Life’s too short — drink bubbly on a weeknight.
family, wine & bubbly
3 Comments »
Posted by Cameron on 09.03.06 10:18 AM
Joni Mitchell Syndrome is one of the hazards of having lived in several different neighborhoods in the same city. The main symptom is the unconscious romanticization of old stomping grounds (see “Both Sides Now (Clouds)”). It’s particularly frustrating around mealtime, when the first option that pops into your mind–and will not be dislodged–is a favorite nook that used to lie within walking distance but now entails a 30-minute trek by car, motorcycle, or public transit.
With that in mind, you’ll understand how excited I was on Friday night. I was suffering from an acute case of JMS, longing for a quick, informal dinner. “Oh, that I still lived in the Lower Haight,” I moaned (to…to myself. Like Mick.), “I could grab a falafel at Ali Baba and wash it down with a few pints at the Toronado.”
Happily, at that moment I remembered VinoRosso, a wine-bar-plus-nosh that had opened recently on Cortland, the high street of Bernal Heights. Wine instead of beer…salumi instead of chickpeas…sold!
It was awful.
The space was cute enough, and I thought that I’d scored when a couple along the banquette got up to leave just as I walked in, opening a cozy nook that seemed ideal for a light, relaxed, dinner (I’d brought a book). I remember noticing a couple of babes-in-arms at other tables but didn’t give it much thought, as it was early. I could not have been more wrong. I’d only just ordered a glass of pinot grigio and a caprese salad when the little one to my left started screaming…followed by a chorus from the three at the table of parents in a window seat. Mind you, this is not a large restaurant. My table in the back of the main seating area was no more than three or four strides from the door.
I’ve watched very young children melt down in restaurants. Once the volume goes up and the tears start, the civilized thing to do is to gather the bairn up, walk outside, and commune with the night air until the tantrum has waned. Playing airplane, making whooshing or cooing noises, and offering favorite toys or foods are all acceptable variations, so long as they occur outside.
But while the parents at VinoRosso were in full distraction mode, it was all happening inside the enoteca. Everyone was determined to plow through whatever bottles of plonk that they had just overpaid for. The din was horrific. It was so loud that I couldn’t taste the wine. Much to my dismay, I did taste the caprese when it was delivered: rock-hard supermarket tomatoes accompanied by mozzarella so old that it had developed a rind.
A rind. On mozzarella. Ew.
VinoRosso
629 Cortland Avenue
San Francisco, CA 94110
415.647.1268
Bernal, Italian, wine & bubbly
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Posted by Anita on 09.01.06 9:03 PM
I’m visiting my folks in Henderson, just outside of Vegas, where the temperature — at almost 9pm –Â is currently 88.2 degrees. Eesh! Mom says it’s gorgeous out and perfect weather for a walk; I think it sounds like a recipe for a sweat overdose. My preference: A nice sit-down in front of the computer, under the ceiling fan, with a cool bottle of Rolling Rock… ahh.
Even though this heat is nothing surprising given the location and time of year, I still felt like I was walking into a furnace when I stepped off the plane. (It was only 105 then, at 6pm.) Not really feeling like turning on the oven, or even firing up the grill, we made a nice dinner out of a rotisserie chicken from the market, and a bowl full of orzo salad Mom had whipped up from a Giada DeLaurentiis recipe off of the Food Network site. It was the perfect antidote to the heat — crisp, cool, and satisfying without being too much.Â
Giada’s Orzo Salad
4 cups chicken broth
1 1/2 cups orzoÂ
2 cups garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
1 1/2 cups teardrop or grape tomatoes, halved
3/4 cup chopped red onion
1/2 cup chopped fresh basil
1/4 cup chopped fresh mint (or flat-leaf parsley)
About 3/4 cup Red Wine Vinaigrette (recipe follows)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pour the broth into a heavy large saucepan. Cover the pan and bring the broth to a boil over high heat. Stir in the orzo. Cover partially and cook until the orzo is tender but still firm to the bite, stirring frequently, about 7 minutes. Drain the orzo through a strainer.
Transfer the orzo to a large wide bowl and toss until the orzo cools slightly. Set aside to cool completely. Toss the orzo with the beans, tomatoes, onion, basil, mint, and enough vinaigrette to coat (about half of recipe below). Season the salad, to taste, with salt and pepper, and serve at cool, or at room temperature.
Vinaigrette Dressing
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons honey
2 teaspoons salt
3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Mix the vinegar, lemon juice, honey, salt, and pepper in a blender. With the machine running, gradually blend in the oil. Season the vinaigrette, to taste, with more salt and pepper, if desired.
cooking, family, recipes
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Posted by Anita on 09.01.06 6:02 AM
Flashback: Just as spring ended, we garnished this sangria with pears and citrus for our garden-warming party. It seems only fitting that we bid adÃos to summer with a peachy version.
Both the syrup and the fruit need to be made up ahead of time, so this is a perfect recipe to start today with an eye toward the long holiday weekend.
This recipe is based on Katie Loeb’s version.
Spicy Sangria
750ml bottle of neutral red wine
4oz orange liqueur, preferrably Cointreau
4oz brandy — we use E&J XO
4oz spiced simple syrup (recipe follows)
chopped fruit macerated in additional brandy and/or liqueur
club soda or sparkling water
Make the simple syrup the night before you plan to drink the sangria. If using hardy fruit — such as citrus, apples or pears — macerate the fruit overnight as well; summer fruits like peaches and berries only need a few minutes’ soaking time or they’ll turn to mush.The morning you plan to serve the sangria, mix the alcohols and syrup, and adjust for sweetness and booziness. Chill thoroughly until ready to serve.
Place LOTS of ice in a glass, and add some of the boozy fruit. Nearly fill the glass with sangria — leaving about an inch of head room — and then top with a glug of club soda.
Spiced Simple Syrup
2-3 sticks of Mexican canela (or 1 stick regular cinnamon)
4 full pieces star anise
1-1/2 tsp. cloves
1-1/2 tsp. black peppercorns
1/2 tsp. red chile flakes
one pint of 1:1 simple syrup
Boil the spices in the syrup for 5 minutes, then cool overnight. Strain, then use as desired.
Drink of the Week, drinks, entertaining, food boards, Mixology Monday, recipes, wine & bubbly
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