Food and Drink
I wouldn't claim to be a die-hard foodie, but I've worked in wine retail, live with a chef in Berkeley's 'Gourmet Gulch', and have written food and drink reviews for Shecky's, Citysearch, and Not For Tourists.
So, if you're thirsty, I can probably point you toward a suitable watering-hole.
The Bay Area
Hog Island Oyster Farm
(not for tourists, 29 february 2008)
In
a day and age when food is full of additives, it's a good lot to know
where your grub is coming from. Here is one solution: Head north to Hog
Island's oyster farm on Tomales Bay. There, the oysters are pulled
right from the water, and after spending 24 hours in a
quality-controlled bath, are prime for the shucking. This is a skill
that you'll have to acquire quickly, as there are no waiters at the
farm. (This ain't the goddamned Ferry Building, city slicker.) It's a
very do-it-yourself experience, and folks get creative with the picnic
area's open-flame grills to personally prepare oysters by stewing,
skewering, and pan-frying. A popular method is to just cook the oysters
right inside their shells, which results in a brine-steamed oyster and
delicious sea broth. To reiterate: Hog Island provides the oysters,
shucking equipment, scenery, and seating. Everything else, from beer to
mignonette, is your responsibility. Reservations are required. link
San-Tung's original dry-fried chicken wings
(jet blue, san francisco, 1 january 2010)
SF foodies wear comfortable shoes to endure long wait times and sheath themselves in thick skins to allow the cursory grunts of gruff wait staffs to slide off their backs like tablespoons of grape seed oil. Both garments have come in handy at the Inner Sunset's San Tung, where patient, calloused foodies brave sub-prime conditions to feast on "Original Dry-Fried" chicken.
These Chinese chicken wings are less fried than seared, at a volume of BTUs high enough to melt the Transamerica Pyramid. This method of frying results in wings that are crispy and sticky, hot and sweet. One nibble and you'll wonder why Americans waste their time perfecting buffalo wings; the garlic-and-ginger lacquer renders bleu cheese dressing useless. The wings are spicy enough as is (some like it "mild"), and the roasted red peppers served atop the dish are for serious heat-seekers only. read more
Cafe
Bakery
(not for tourists, 1
october 2007)
The menu of this generically named Cafe Bakery boasts that
ther "house famous specialty" is the "B.B. Q Pork Bun." And if that
isn't enough to get you in the door, let me point out the light price
tag: a buck and a dime. These roasted pork buns (cha siu baau in
Cantonese) are not the steamed variety favored at dim-sum restaurants,
but the baked variety found--where else--in bakeries. What really puts
these guys above the multitude of buns that I've gorged on is the
generous meat-to-bun ratio. Many cha siu baau suffer from being too
doughy, which makes the hunt for pork like the hard-fought quest for
the pearl at the center of an oyster. But the cha siu baau at Cafe
Bakery is loaded with the good stuff: chunks of pork, saucy but not
drowning. The egg-wash that glazes the bun is stickier and sweeter
than usual, which is a fine compliment to the 'cue. The great thing
about Chinese bakeries is that they provide a steal for
pinny-pinchers, and a feast for the prodigal. So try anything that
looks delicious or downwright weird. You won't be out more than $1.10. link
Seoul on Wheels
(not for tourists, 28 november 2007)
Shuffling my feet underneath
the Bay Bridge with a wad of
cash in my pocket, I couldn’t help but hum drug-deal ditties: “Pusher
Man,” “Grindin’,” “I’m Waitin For The Man.” I was waiting for Seoul on
Wheels, a slick roach coach that makes the rounds through SoMa each
weekday to deliver the goods (Korean BBQ) to hungry office folks and
construction workers. Proprietor Julia Yoon, after the dot bomb and an
unsatisfying turn as a paralegal, heard the call of the road, and now
she’s cooking rib eye, chicken, and spicy pork in Hunter’s Point at
3:30 each morning before cruising up to her first stop (Bryant and
Main) at 6:45. The “regular” rice bowl is stacked high for a cool
$5.50. And the BBQ sandwich, a French roll smeared with mayo and chili
paste, is pretty darned swell. Either get your kimchee fried right into
the rice, or have a portion on the side for a quarter. As the maxim
goes: If you can’t find the kimchee, let the kimchee find you. Seoul on
Wheels—That’s innovation! A tip: Keep your eyes peeled; Julia can’t
always get the same parking spots. Giants’ game days are especially
difficult. link
Philz
Coffee at Mission Bay
(not for tourists, 5
october 2007)
Philz Coffee--if
that name doesn't send shivers through your
caffeine veins then get stepping to SoMa right now. Phil Jaber
has
been preparing his secret blends in the original Mission location (24th
and Folsom) for 33 years. This is Phil's first foray into the area and
he should be a welcome newcomer to J-Train and Caltrain commuters. The
new
location is housed inside of the Mission Creek Senior Center, and if
there's one demographic that truly deserves early-morning
access to jolting coffee,
it's the elderly. But really all brewheads are welcome to help
themselves to the "one cup at a time" style that put Philz on the map. link
Bin 38
(not for tourists, 7 november 2007)
As Lombard St.
makes its bid for domination over the Marina
scene, this new bar will no doubt become a neighborhood favorite. Bin
38 is a wine bar that sheds pretension and opts for comfort over
stuffiness. Sunday night beer swillers will appreciate the fact that
here you can take the missus out for a respectable evening and still
drink a beer without offending the grape gurus--in fact, the beers are
plugged right into the menu as recommended pairings.
Following the Garret Oliver (of Brooklyn Brewery) school of thought on
this matter, beer is given nearly equal billing to wine.read
more
Blue Bottle Coffee at Mint Plaza
(not for tourists, 3 april 2008)
Farmer’s Market weekenders rejoice at the news of a permanent
Bluebottle coffee location. Now you no longer have to wait in the
chilly bay breeze for 30 minutes to get your coffee; nope, now you can
wait for 30 minutes indoors (just kidding, wait time has been
appreciably reduced, especially considering that the Bluebottle coffee
remains top tier java). While all the usual Bluebottle options, like
New Orleans chicory coffee, are available, the new hit is the siphoned
coffee. The siphon bar is the only one of its kind within United States
borders, and has the visual mystique of an alchemist’s lab. With the
price tag of the machine soaring into the fifth digit, The New York
Times joked that this is the first “$20,000 Cup of Coffee.” Not to be
passed up for the myriad bars in the hood, Bluebottle is appealing to
the SOMA workforce on both ends of their commute: Between 3 and 7 pm,
wine and charcuterie are served.
New York
Domaine Bar a
Vins
(citysearch, 2006)
This bar's
namesake is a now-vacant field in the French
Pyrenees, where
co-owner Pascal Escriout's grandfather once ran a vineyard, nicknamed
"Le Domaine" by the friends who gathered there to freely imbibe.
Continuing the familial tradition, the bar serves carafes of country
wines from southwest France alongside other international selections.
Monkeytown
(shecky's 2007 new york guide to bars, clubs, and lounges)
Monkeytown is an impressive manifestation of conceptual
dining. It's like indulging in fusion food in a funhouse: While
relaxing, even lying down on the back room's cozy futons (which are
squarely arranged), diners are treated to a film, a performance, or
live music; leisurely service encourages aesthetic indulgence. The
creations of Chef Coleman Lee Foster (Chanterelle, Gramercy Tavern) are
delicious, if sometimes too mild. Still, dishes like pulled pork and
milk-chocolate curry mousse intrigue, and in a neighborhood where sushi
and comfort food are the norm, making a trip to Monkeytown is a welcome
departure. Reservations are suggested for the back room.
Bar(n)
(citysearch, 2007)
In Short
An offshoot of next-door srtisinal eatery Flatbush Farm, this
lofty
space maintains the same country aesthetic. Candles and low-wattage
lightbulbs create its dirt-road setting, and, rather than putting the
MP3 player on autopilot, the bartenders flip an eclectic mix of LPs.
The bar has concocted its own organic menu, but pulls the treats from a
common kitchen; the pair also shares an immense backyard garden, with a
canopy of trees that produces solitude a stones-throw from Flatbush
Avenue.
What to Drink
Their
in-house Limoncello is served straight up, and in two
cocktails: Ciccone room (with Prosecco) and the pear martini (with
vodka and Doc's pear cider).
On the menu
The
generously portioned snacks range from bowls of olives and almonds
(each $4) to daily takes on the farmhouse toast ($5) and sandwich ($10).
67 Burger
(citysearch, 2007)
Eleven varieties of
burger, including beef, turkey, and
vegetarian, anchor the menu. The Blue Burger boasts bleu cheese and
bacon--in bits rather than strips, to ensure that the flavor infuses
each bite. Herbivores will be pleased: The menu features four veggie
burger options like the English Garden, a rendition of the cucumber tea
sandwich. Spicy curly fries carry the weight of the dry, lackluster
onion rings. The most progressive menu item is the beer milkshake. Made
with Bass Ale, it's malty and refreshing, a fascinating fusion that
deserves the Nobel Prize in chemistry.
Battle of the
Bean -- Who can best define the nationalism of
the caffeinated?
(unpublished, 2006)
...the “America
Runs on Dunkin” campaign has employed the
help of Brooklyn-based music outfit They Might Be Giants, who play hip,
indie stuff (like some of the titles Starbucks stocks) that is quirky,
but inoffensive to a forty year-old (like some of the titles Starbucks
stocks). Currently they are running an ad, popularly referred to as
“Fritalian” that features another irreverent They Might Be Giants
jingle. It begins with the absurd string of coffee qualifiers:
“Mocho-half-caf-latte-cino-mocha-duet-avec-moi.” A befuddled cast of
characters in a modern coffee shop then proclaim: “My mouth can’t form
these words / Is it French, or is it Italian? / Perhaps Fritalian.” An
announcer appeases them: “Lattes from Dunkin Donuts. You order in
English, not Fritalian.” The commercial demonstrates an intolerance for foreign languages that
is nothing short of xenophobic. While at the same time it suggests that
latte is an English word....
Elsewhere
Absinthe:
The green fairy
that gave birth to an artistic revolution
(city smart, october 2007)
...Manet and Picasso
were more interested in absinthe drinkers
than absinthe itself. Compared to their peers, Manet and Picasso were
teetotalers. Manet’s “The Absinthe Drinker” was rejected by the Salon
jury of 1859 for depicting a character unfit for serious artistic study
(and for lacking technique). Manet expanded the canvas, adding legs, an
empty bottle, and a glass of absinthe; it was clear that the parameters
of realism were not broad enough for the blooming genius, so he
destroyed them while founding modernism. The silver absinthe spoons
that Picasso included in his series of six bronze-cast “Glass[es] of
Absinthe” (1914) helped usher in the era of the “readymade” (a term
applied to found-art by Marcel Duchamp a year later). And between these
bookends are numerous contributions to the study of street life and
cafe society, panhandlers and hookers, and the copious consumption of
absinthe.... read
more
On the Heels of
the Venetian Spritz
(unpublished, 2005)
Recently I’ve
been roaming the canals of Gowanus, Brooklyn,
sipping a spritz that I keep tucked into my blazer, and making believe
that I’m in Venice. [...]The spritz
continues to haunt and puzzle drinkers long after
they have left the lurid shores of Venice. Hours are spent by amateur
apothecaries, whose futile efforts never quite achieve the grandeur and
mystique of the Venetian Spritz. Perhaps these addicted souls expect
Venice to appear before their eyes – Brigadoon style – and once again
open its chasms for the voyagers. Or perhaps the Venetian Spritz is
that choleric element described in Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice – not
cholera, not homosexuality, but a posse of mysterious Italian
aperitivos driving souls into frenzies. Consider the following excerpt
from Mann’s classic: “[He] sat by the balustrade, from time to time
cooling his lips with the ruby-red mixture of [Campari] and soda that
sparkled in the glass in front of him.” Indeed, edits mine, of course,
but the portrait is an alluring one.
Drinking in New
Orleans:
Off the Bourbon-soaked path
(unpublished, 2007)
New
Orleans is famed for drive-thru
daiquiri stands and those
sugary barrel-sized ass-kickers: hurricanes. But the thirsty visitor is
doing their self a grave disservice if their drinking is confined to
Bourbon Street. True, there is a certain charm in seeing doors open to
bars with ever-churning rows of candy-colored daiquiri dispensers,
blaring Aerosmith at 8am, while municipal employees sweep puke into the
gutter. But the real liquor lover will swing by the city during the 5th
annual Tales of the Cocktail festival, this July 18th-22nd. If you can
make the trip, be certain to etch out space in your agenda to prowl the
city and get your hands on the following four drinks...