Posted by Anita on 11.01.05 5:51 PM
Last spring, we took a Chinatown Food Tour with an outfit called Local Taste of the City. It was so eye-rollingly bad — incorrect facts, overt pushing of unrelated purchases, and ever-so-gently racist commentary — that Cameron and I are still making jokes about it, 6 months later.
All you have to say to one of us is “durango melon” — the guide/owner’s name for durian — and we will bust out laughing. We also get a kick out of reminding each other that the reason why the buildings in Chinatown are built so close together is because the women had bound feet and couldn’t walk very far.
Think these are bad? They’re the tip of the iceberg, I assure you.
—
Edit by Cameron:
Our guide (aggressively shaven eyebrows and questionable personal hygiene) began our food tour of Chinatown with a 40 minute sit down at the Viansa tasting room, where we were subjected to a brief and yet amazingly incoherent history of SF. While being encouraged to taste and purchase wine that, “you’re just not going to see in stores.”
Yeah. Viansa. You know, you’re right. I’m not going to see that in the store.
The next stop on our our food tour was one of the hysterically cheesy “antique” shops that line Grant Street just inside the Chinatown gate. Here, our guide misidentified a large, labeled, stone statue of Kwan-Yin (female) as the Buddha. And then rattled on about various artifacts as we slowly drifted past a huge glass case of erotic statuary and appurtenances. Not a problem for us, but this is the kind of tour that someone from the Heartland might take their kids on.
Things sort of become a blur until we arrived at our first food stop of the day, supposedly the oldest Chinese bakery in Chinatown. Or something like that. I can vouch for the fact that neither the floors nor the tabletop had been cleaned since the 19th century, and the food stuck under the plastic covering the menus looked to be just as old. Just different cultural ideas about sanitation? Wrong. We received a tasting plate of n-a-a-a-sty little bites (think dim sum), one of which contained shrimp that was distinctly rotten. I discreetly (I hope) nudged my fair wife under the table and urged her not to eat that particular morsel.
Out into the street for more gibberish, puncutated by sudden stops in the middle of the street by our guide, who remained oblivious to the human traffic that would then pile into all of us.
More blur, then a quick visit at a fortune cookie factory. After a quick look at the machines, we were treated to an excruciatingly long shaggy dog story from our guide (who had tipped over from harmlessly eccentric to actively irritating) about both the San Francisco and Oakland airports requiring all travelers leaving the Bay Area to each have…A BAG OF FORTUNE COOKIES!!! Said bags were then presented with great flourish.
The cookies weren’t even all that good.
Somewhere in here, we were treated to the information that the buildings in Chinatown were, indeed, built closely together so that the poor Chinese ladies with their bound feet could walk easily between them.
In what we desperately hoped would be the climax of our day — meaning that we could part company with this very strange, very confused man — we began to tour a few food markets. As we toured, our guide helpfully misidentified oh so many wonders. Durian became durango melon. Burdock root became taro. After a while, my brain stopped functioning and I just nodded and smiled.
After five hours of this, we managed to break away, saying that we had made plans with friends for dinner and really needed to get back to our hotel. The alternative was to accompany our guide to dinner, which was part of the tour. I don’t know where we were to go, and I really don’t want to.
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Edit by Anita:
You forgot the part about how he repeatedly answered personal phone calls on his cell throughout the tour.
And the part where every last shopkeeper who saw us coming rolled his or her eyes and muttered under their breath.
And the stops outside numerous retail establishments that were, alas, closed. (None of them had anything to do with food, so I suppose this is just as well.)
And the part where we were told not to mind the smells in a certain butcher shop because “…These People just don’t have the same hygiene standards as we do.”
And how “the Buddha” had coins in her lap… because you know the Buddha is all about money.
downtown SF, levity, travel
2 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 10.29.05 3:44 PM
Tonight we made Crab & Crimini Bisque — What a disappointment! Expensive, time-consuming, and ultimately blah. There were too many mushrooms and way too much crab for the amount of soup… the garnish was overwhelming.
Also, they didn’t have you season as you went — only asked for salt & pepper at the very end — so the whole thing was flat and bleh. Too fishy and stringy from the crab, too.
It looks better than it tasted, and frankly it didn’t look very good. If I’m in the mood for a creamy mushroom soup, I’m fairly sure I will stick to
Bourdain’s version in the future.
cooking, recipes, Soup o' the Fortnight
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Posted by Anita on 10.23.05 5:59 PM
From our housewarming open house — alas, no photos, as we were busy entertaining.
- antipasto platter: marinated peppers, artichoke hearts, bocconcini, cured meats, olives
- sesame crackers with fromage d’affinois and blood-orange marmalade
- manchego-stuffed dates wrapped in bacon
- Vietnamese summer rolls
- Mini ‘BLTs’: pain de mie, avocado, bacon, tomato-bourbon jam
- Coronation chicken-salad tea sandwiches with whipped cream cheese on walnut bread (open-face)
- tomato/fontina/roasted garlic tartlets
- camembert with walnut-pear filling and basalmic syrup
- phyllo triangles: mushroom and feta, and rosemary ham with halloumi cheese
- red curry chicken wings
- croustade cups filled with honey-cirtus ricotta and a raspberry
- French-style apple tart
entertaining
4 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 10.03.05 1:58 PM
Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary has added nearly 100 new words. Food-related terms for this update include:
- Amuse-bouche (noun): A small complimentary appetizer offered at some restaurants.
- Brain freeze (noun): A sudden shooting pain in the head caused by ingesting very cold food (as ice cream) or drink
Sampling of new words
levity
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Posted by Anita on 09.27.05 6:11 PM
Last year, we used Italian-style prune-plums, as they’re abundant (to say the least) in our old Seattle neighborhood; we used to get giant bowls full from neighbors who begged and pleaded with us to take more. This year, we used more typical round plums — both red and black varieties — that came in our CSA produce box.
They’re good right away, but better after a couple of weeks. Honestly, the plums are fine — they make a great substitute for cherries in clafoutis — but the real draw is the plum-infused brandy cordial.
Leftover infused brandy is great in soda water or champagne, or over ice cream.
Madison Valley Brandied Plums
3 pounds plums
1-inch-long stick of cinnamon
2 cups sugar
1 cup water
1/4 tsp salt
2 cups brandy
Boil a stockpot of water as deep as the shoulder of your canning jar. (I use a 2-quart hinged-lidded jar for a full recipe — you can always portion into smaller jars for giving away once they’re done.)
Wash and stem plums. Prick several holes around stem ends. Pack plums into the canning jar. Quarter and pit remaining plums and re-pack, placing quartered/halved pieces in gaps that form between whole plums. Add cinnamon stick.
In a 2-quart saucepan, bring sugar, salt, and 1 cup water to a boil, then turn to low and simmer 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Let cool for 10 minutes, then stir in brandy. Immediately pour liquid into jar up to 1/2 inch from the rim.
Partly close jar, leaving room for steam to escape, and place in boiling water for 5 minutes. Carefully remove jar with a jar-lifter or 2 sets of tongs, and close the lid. Cool to room temperature, then refrigerate.
preserving & infusing, recipes, Seattle
1 Comment »
Posted by Anita on 09.10.05 10:12 AM
Another unfortunate instance of a Top 50 restaurant that isn’t even close to hitting the mark: Town Hall.
Our server was nowhere to be found for the first 15 minutes we were seated. We weren’t even offered water or drinks. When he finally did appear, he brought the cocktail list (oh, so they do have one! why wasn’t it left with the menus?) that listed some pretty bizarre combinations, including a gin-based drink called The Big Easy — um, gin? New Orleans? — and a margarita-like tequila concotion made with cointreau, lime juice, and Falernum. They all sounded so poorly conceived that we stuck with wines by the glass.
My starter was Smithfield ham and cheese toast with jalapeno cream…. which really tasted like something you’d get at TGI Friday’s. It was positively sodden with pepper-infused bechamel (interesting but about 10 times the amount needed) and sprinkled with cold, flabby rings of jalapenos that had been breaded in the style of fried green tomatoes. Cameron’s appetizer, billed as “barbeque shrimp” was also served on toast, also with a drenching of sauce. He definitely got the worse end of the deal: his pool of brown sauce tasted of nothing except salt and worcestershire. Ew.
My main was a peanut-and-tasso-crusted Niman Ranch pork chop. The chop itself was brined to within an inch of its life… it was overcooked but still eerily moist…. spongy, salty, blech. The elements of the crust were so large that they fell off as soon as I cut into the chop. The accompanying mashed potatoes were good, but such a small serving that I literally had to lift up the pork chop to see if they’d been forgotten.
Cameron had a a trio of rabbit: hilariously tiny frenched rack of ribs, roulade of breast with unidentifiable stuffing, and another roulade of leg wrapped in bacon. What was billed as mustard spaetzle were scattered across the top as garnish. The vegetable was lightly-mashed peas and a celeriac puree. All of the meat was completely unsalted and basically tasteless, and the breast roulade was utterly overcooked and dry. Needless to say, neither of us ate much of our mains aside from the vegetables.
Since we were still hungry at this point, we split a butterscotch-chocolate pot de creme, garnished with buttercrunch. Sadly, this as the highlight of our meal, and it wasn’t even good. The “pot” was actually a two-layered cereal-size bowl of pudding (nothing creme-y about it) and the top layer tasted exactly like butterscotch pudding from a box.
Service never improved from the early missteps: Plates were dropped off uncerimoniously — it might have been nice to have an explanation of what the trio of rabbit included, for example — and we got the distinct impression that our server would have rather been somewhere else for the evening. At least we had that in common.
The high-ceilinged space is decorated in an eclectic vein that feels historic without degenerating into old-timey kitsch. The light fixtures in particular — including a Rube Goldberg-esque chandelier over the bar — are particularly striking. The entry area was jammed with people waiting for tables and having drinks at the ill-placed bar, but the restaurant tables were only a little bit crowded. On the downside, the lack of booths and window coverings combined with brick walls makes for a very loud space with unforgiving acoustics — there’s no prayer of ignoring the coversations of the people on either side of you. Still, it managed to feel warm and urban and inviting… I only wish the food had been the equal of the space.
Town Hall
342 Howard Street
San Francisco, CA 94105
415.908.3900
downtown SF, restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 07.03.05 2:05 PM
All of these from the same table last night, sitting next to us at Blue Plate:
Diner: “What’s this guanciale stuff?” [fair question, so far]
Server: “It’s the cured jowl of the pig.”
Diner: “Ew, OK, I’m gonna not let that freak me out.”
He proceeded to order the dish in question, then muttered through the whole meal how he didn’t know his dish was going to have BACON in it.
Two other gems:
“Tuna loin?! How can a fish have a loin?” (while smirking and gesturing to his crotch)
“Halibut cheeks? Who would want to eat cheeks. And, aren’t they kinda small?”
And then at the very end of the meal, he pronounced his dinner “the absolute best meal I have ever eaten.” Uh, dude, you need to get out more often.
levity, restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 04.11.05 3:41 PM
Oaxacan Black Bean: it was delicious. Cam just finished the last of it for lunch today. (Well, not quite… there’s another 2 servings in the freezer for one of those “I dunno, what do you feel like eating” nights.)
Next time I would probably add a bit more chorizo, or perhaps sautee another 1/4 pound of it for garnish… most of the long-cooked stuff simmered down and/or got pureed so smoothly that you didn’t know it was there. Garnished with some mexican cheese, crisp tortillas, and a little bit of avocado. Mmm….
There’s a really dumbed-down version of the recipe I used here. The real version calls for avocado leaf instead of fennel, and pasilla oaxaquena instead of chipotles; the shrimp (which I didn’t use) are optional.
cooking, Mexican, recipes, Soup o' the Fortnight
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Posted by Anita on 03.27.05 10:54 PM
Was sitting here, jonesing for Mexican food — even though I have dinner already prepped to go in the oven in a few hours — and I thought of my friend Jaymes’ quicky chilaquiles. Boy, am I glad I did! They’ve been the subject of some serious “more Mexican than the Mexicanos” backchat on Mouthfuls, as they’re made in the microwave with storebought ingredients.
I just have one word for the naysayers: Yum.
Salsa verde (tomatilla sauce); torn tortilla chips; queso manchego (or asadero, or ranchero, or fresco, or any other Mexican white cheese that you like); and sour cream.
In bottom of microwaveable dish, spread a little tomatilla sauce, then layer of tostadas or Fritos, then more sauce, then sour cream, then “bastante queso.” Repeat, until dish is full or ingredients are all used up, finishing with cheese. Microwave one minute, or till chilaquiles are heated through and cheese is melted. You’ll probably have to experiment a time or two in order to get all of the proportions just right. Use as much salsa verde as you wish in order to get it as ‘wet’ as you like.
I used a small rectangular pyrex dish (I’d say 5 x 7″), half a cup of the salsa, three handfuls of chips, and two or three tablespoons of the faux-crema. It took about 2-1/2 minutes, all together, for the cheese to melt and the chips to soften a bit. These quantities made a nice snack for two.
I wasn’t planning to share, but Cam came in and said “Mmm, that smells good” so I gave him half, and still ended up having plenty. (Of course, he has a batch of shortbread cooling on the counter right now, so I know which side my bread is buttered on!) For a full meal, I might try making about 2/3 this much and eating it with an egg. Hmm, that’s a good idea for breakfast tomorrow. I can only imagine how good it would be with the right cheese and homemade salsa…!
I had a bag of going-stale blue corn tortilla chips in the pantry, along with a small can of Embasa salsa verde. Good cultured sour cream (which I thinned a bit with half-and-half) in the fridge; alas, no Mexican cheese, so I had to make due with mild cheddar for this try.
Muchas gracias, Jaymes. It’d never occured to me to try doing chilaquiles the shortcut way, and now I can see this becoming a house favorite.
cooking, food boards, Mexican
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Posted by Anita on 03.26.05 11:04 PM
Originally posted on Mouthfuls’ Perfect Seattle Food Day thread
My perfect day would have to be a weekday (Tue-Fri) because it would involve lunch at Salumi. But if we’re talking about weekend-days, here are two itineraries we’ve done numerous times:
Down to the market, brunch at Cafe Campagne. Spend the middle of the day shopping for dinner fixings, then return to the car and stash the perishables in the cooler (or the chilly car, in winter). Wander around Belltown and the Market area — sorry, I just can’t type ‘West Edge’ with a straight face — browsing and grazing as we go. Perhaps stop by Beecher’s for some mac-n-cheese for late lunch. Wind up for an aperitif at Zig Zag right when they open, then back to the car and home to cook. If we’re having too much fun, they we end up hanging out for another drink (or two), and thn taking a taxi to Palace or walking to a nearby restaurant, and leaving the foraged items for Sunday dinner.
Another variation on this theme: We go to Essential for a great latte and something from the pastry case for a light breakfast, then back home for menu planning, with the entire dining room table buried by cookbooks and magazines. Then we spend mid-day shopping for dinner stuff, and ingredients for the rest of the week’s meals. In the right season, the first stop would be the U District farmers’ market to get the majority of the produce and anything else we can get find there; this time of year, it’s either Whole Paycheck, Uwajimaya, or Central Market, depending on what else we need to get — WF has good cheese, CM has better deli meats, etc. Lunch is grabbed when we start to feel peckish; a recent favorite has been splitting a cheesesteak and an order of fries at Philadelphia Fevre, or each of us going our own way at the Uwajimaya food court. A new find I’m looking forward to adding to this plan: If we’ve got a Mutual Fish (aka ‘Smoochable Fish’) stop planned, I’ll agitate for lunch at the taco bus, El Asadero on Rainier, before heading home to prep dinner.
There’s usually a cheese plate or some other nibbles on the counter while we’re chopping, dicing, fileting, etc. Lately our weekend meals have been big, multi-hour projects: the latest mexican cooking project from the Mexico forum, Cam’s newfound love of wok-frying whole fish on the turkey-fryer burner outside, etc. It’s comforting to me to have a homey project to fill a winter afternoon. I know when summer comes, the meals will be simpler, less constructed… which I am also looking forward to, in its own way.
There aren’t any particularly surprising finds in these ideas, I’m afraid. Still, reading them over pleases me. We’re actually going to do an abridged version of #1 today, so it was fresh in my mind.
bar culture, drinks, farmers markets, restaurants, Seattle, shopping, travel
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Last spring, we took a Chinatown Food Tour with an outfit called Local Taste of the City. It was so eye-rollingly bad — incorrect facts, overt pushing of unrelated purchases, and ever-so-gently racist commentary — that Cameron and I are still making jokes about it, 6 months later.
