Retro Eats

Work made me do it.

I tested two recipes for our Mother's Day reader write-in. The staff-photographed art did not make it into the paper, but of course I had to document these zany-looking dishes myself.

Bun Bo Hue

Last weekend I embarked on one of my occasional cooking projects. I call them projects because I find myself baffled over where to find ingredients at the store, and exhausted but still standing at the kitchen stove past 1 a.m. At that point I’m bemoaning my weary feet and reminding myself how hard it would be on my body if I cooked for a living. (I have to tell myself this every so often because I find the thought of owning a pastry shop very enticing!)

In February, I was up past midnight churning raspberry lambic ice cream for DessertFest2007. Saturday and Sunday, it was all about Bun Bo Hue. This spicy beef and pork noodle soup is a specialty of Hue in central Vietnam. It’s the dish I often beg my mom to make when I visit her in L.A., and it’s the dish I gobbled up two mornings in a row when I traveled to Vietnam in 2005.

I started off studying Andrea Nguyen’s wonderfully detailed cookbook, Into the Vietnamese Kitchen, for what to buy and basic technique. Her cookbook is an invaluable resource in these instances; asking Mom would take too long and test our patience greatly.

Like most of my Vietnamese cooking endeavors – not that there have been that many – I drove to Hong Kong Market for ingredients. At the store, though, I realized I had no idea what banana blossoms/buds look like. Since I’d only seen them thinly sliced in restaurants, I called my parents to confirm. It would be the first of three consecutive calls.

I wandered over to the vast meat department. I don’t buy much red meat, so I spent some time searching for beef bones and such. I called my parents again, first to see if pork hocks cut earlier the same day were OK to buy and again to discuss seasoned ground pork. I only needed a small portion of beef, but the butcher guy wouldn’t cut me one, so I had to swing by Kroger for a piece of steak.

Bun Bo Hue requires an intense broth cooked for hours. My mom does simmer her version for a long time, but she also uses a prepackaged flavoring base to move it along. I decided that I would mostly follow Andrea's recipe and take no shortcuts. Plus, simmering beef bones would give me delicious bone marrow to enjoy! In short, I sautéed chopped onions with annatto (seeds that impart an orange color), then seared pork hocks and steak in the same big pot. Next, in two 5-quart pots – because I didn’t have a large stock pot -- I tossed in the onions, pork hocks, parboiled beef bones, lemongrass, fish sauce, rock sugar and other seasonings, and let them simmer for an hour. For the second hour of simmering, I replaced the hocks and bones with the beef. I strained and refrigerated the broth and finally settled into bed after 2 a.m.

Here’s the thing about me and Vietnamese cuisine: I’m usually familiar with the dish I’m attempting and have witnessed my mom making it a number of times. Yet there’s generally an ingredient or two I’ve never cooked with. This time, it was those banana blossoms/buds; I didn’t remove all the flowers as I should’ve. Cooking Bun Bo Hue reminded me, once again, how much time my mother used to invest in preparing beautiful dinners for our family every day.

Sunday, I made the lemongrass-chili oil with three tablespoons of red pepper flakes and added lots of freshly ground pepper to the seasoned ground pork before dropping balls of it into the boiling broth (after skimming off a bunch of fat). I also cooked thick round rice noodles and prepared a garnish plate of banana blossoms/buds, mint, cilantro and lime wedges. I sliced up onions and scallions, but omitted the traditional bean sprouts – ick! – and romaine lettuce, instead chopping up Napa cabbage for YouKnowWho. (There were probably more steps, but everything’s a blur at this point.)

Delicious! Not to toot my own horn, but this is a meal I no longer have to beg Mom for. So satisfying. I decided to pack leftovers for CabbageLover and NoLaNative and also ate some more last night.

This morning, I had my blood drawn for cholesterol testing. Oh, boy.

cafe tiramisu

janel suggested attending a web 2.0 mixer at 111 minna gallery, last thursday. somehow she got ellie, gary (ellie's recently relocated boyfriend) and myself to go along. none of us been to this monthly after work mixer where random startups showoff their wares. at the event, hendricks gin gave away coupons for free gin cocktails which we, er, abused. after loading up on free gin cocktails, we all got a bit hungry. we definitely need to pad the stomach a bit since there wasn't any food left at the mixer... how cheap!

we brainstormed for dinner ideas and eventually wonder toward belden street, an alley street with a san francisco mix of cuisine — italian and french. the once top 100 restaurants, plouf resides in the middle of the alley. after looking at a series of menus (the ladies were picky)... we settled on tiramisu because their black olive gnoochi with shrimp caught both my eye and gary's (i'm guessing dorks like to eat the same things). the owner's brother runs another italian restaurant, belden tavern, just two doors away from tiramisu.

while the girls excused themselves, gary picked out a bottle of wine. i wasn't really paying attention to the wine selection but the restaurant was out of stock. right before the girls came back, a "similar and same price" wine bottle was delivered. i can't remember the wine but it was medium-bodied and had a dry finish. after taking awhile reviewing the menu, we ordered. yup, gary and i ordered the same dish, the black olive gnoochi with shrimp. ellie ordered the campanelle bell-shaped pasta with mushroom and ahi tuna while janel ordered eggplant mozzarella ravioli with garlic pesto chips.

everyone's plate arrived ten minutes later. and we quickly dug in since we were all hungry. the gnoochi dumplings were tinier than the tip of your thumb. your typical gnoochi is yellowish and potato-ey but these black olive ones were dark, spectacled and carried a hint of olives. the shrimp were tender and absorbed some of the tomato sauce. everything worked well together and was just perfect. if cooked a bit longer, the gnoochi would have been smooshie and the shrimp tough. i honestly can't give a review on janel and ellie's dish since i didn't eat enough of their plates to really taste, however they enjoyed their dishes.

sea breeze cafe

the outer sunset is the sleepy part of san francisco with neighborhood cafes, small markets and tiny restaurants. thanh long is the only recognizable restaurant. everything else is a local secret. my friend millie was over and we were seeking food.

i recommended a small place that was an easy walk from my place. sea breeze cafe is really the local favorite whether you want to take it easy and enjoy the weather or nurse a hangover. since the day was warm, we sat outside. the restaurant's menu is heavily-spanish/mexican influenced brunch. if you want eggs, you'll get eggs.

millie ordered eggs benedict with chipotle hollandaise sauce while i ordered a chorizo sausage with a cheese scramble and tortilla. both dishes came with home-styled potatoes. we were pretty sleepy so we both ordered coffee and lots of it. while we talked about newspapers and journalism, our brunch arrives. the smells were amazing. her eggs benedict was drenched in chipotle hollandaise sauce. drowning in sauce! my chorizo sausage were thinly sliced and topped on cheesy scrambled eggs. it didn't look as cool as millie's.

first bite of my dish inspired a "mmm... food good." i usually don't use the tortilla because it's just extra carbs. yes, i do think about my carbs intake. but today, i gave them a try. sadly, they were really dry and stiff. they didn't fold around the chorizo egg cheese stuffing very well. i exiled them to the dark side of the plate. the home-styled potatoes were crispy and well-seasoned. millie's eggs were well poached with a custardy interior. the chipotle hollandaise sauce was good. it soaked deeply into the bread, adding to the flavor. it was peppery, instant, smooth and buttery.

sea breeze cafe is really quaint. its menu hasn't changed since it opened. the food is consistent. the serve is great because the same tiny hispanic woman runs the place. as the world changes around very quickly, you can depend on sea breeze to deliver the comfort food you need in this sleepy side of san francisco.

roadside bbq

my pulled pork, brisket, mac & cheese and potato salad

for the past week, ellie and i were talking about bbq. gary, originally from florida, wanted some bbq in the san francisco area. as if the stars were aligned, my buddy jay and i talked about trying bbq around the city. after living in texas for two years and some time studying in florida, i kinda know something about bbq. jay travels around the states for business, knows his bbq food well and just needs to satisfy his desire for bbq meats. two places came to mind since the san francisco chronicle's 96hours had a brief review of few bbq places — roadside (in inner richmond) and memphis minnie (in lower haight).

this past friday (apirl 28th), ellie, gary, yumi and i headed out to an art opening at park life which is directly across the street from a great american comfort food restaurant, Q. after loading up on some beers at park life… and me spending a few hundred bones on a painting, we decided to walk over to the nearby roadside bbq.

roadside bbq is something you would miss as you drive down the busy geary street. there's nothing that shouts out bbq except for it's street sign. as you walk into the wooden panel interior, you smell bbq, see brisket and rolls of paper towels and drool. here's me being picky about the interior... it looks half-assed with cheesy texas license plates and southern-looking items with southern state names on them. the menu is a big billboard with their items on wooden blocks. as we were ordering, one of the cooks pulled out a brisket and started slicing. all of us pretty much dropped our jaws.

ellie's baby back ribs, corn on a cob and [yikes] cole slaw

for some random reason, gary and i order pretty much ordered the same thing again — the memphis pulled pork and texas brisket. [ellie, could you tell your boyfriend to stop copying me?! stop it!] ellie had the baby back ribs (in an obvious attempt to regain her eating championship belt) while yumi ordered the smoked bbq chicken. each plate comes with two sides and a corn bread muffin. the order came in five minutes with someone shouting out your name and order.

so how's the food? well, it's good but it doesn't knock your socks off good. the place claims it's "authentic bbq." authentic what? texas bbq? southern bbq? KC bbq? the word, authentic, sounds like a gimmick. everyone agreed the pulled pork was great. it's moist, juicy and flavorful. however, i wasn't too keen on the brisket. i ate one strip of the three or four. the smoke ring wasn't prominent which means it lacks the smoky flavor. and dry too! the brisket was probably sitting around in the smoker for too long. and the bbq sauce was pretty bottle standard. their brisket would have been better as a chopped brisket sandwich oozing with sauce... sadly they don't serve that. ellie's ribs and yumi's chicken weren't bad though but i didn't eat enough to judge. the baked mac and cheese was average since i like the gooey soul food version. the peppery potato salad was well done. the corn beard muffin could have used a bit more corn meal for that crunchy texture. i avoided ellie's cole slaw since cole slaw scares me. and yumi's french fries were sweet and crispy.

boy, was i stuffed. i haven't eaten so much meat in a long time. my diet is heavily seafood-based since returning to san francisco. so, should you go? well, i recommend checking the place out and sticking with the pulled pork. if you're not familiar with real southern bbq, then you'll enjoy it. however i'm still fixin' for damn good brisket in san francisco.

Choctal ice cream

This treat is worth it in a stranded-on-a-deserted-island way. (Or, more appropriately, dessert island.) Smooth and velvety, without seeming too rich. The Ghana chocolate is great, but the Madagascar vanilla bean, with the crunch of the seeds, is unrivaled. Makes me swoon.

The only catch? Choctal claims 1 pint holds 5 servings! Yeah, right.

Cooking with Artichokes

My latest food story: The artichoke exposed.

Lexington Eats

CabbageLover and I journeyed to Kentucky last weekend for LexingtonNative's wedding (gorgeous in every way: weather; cute, countryside church; reception site with a dynamite patio; the wedding dress and killer shoes!). On the Friday flight over, I salivated over Bon Appetit's special Travel issue, which featured Shanghai soup dumplings. Can't wait to try these in China next month.

When we arrived, we headed straight for Billy's Bar-B-Q.

I couldn't wait to try the dill-ickles (or frickles, depending on which menu you're reading), banana pepper rings, garlicky cheese grits, coleslaw, green beans, pork ribs and a pulled pork sandwich. My favorites were the banana pepper rings -- tart and thinly sliced -- and the airy white-cornbread that came with the ribs. (CabbageLover and I agreed Mardi Gras Grill fries a superior, crispier pickle.)

At the wedding, we feasted on tasty Southern staples including shrimp and grits, biscuits and ham and a delicious passed hors d'oeuvre that reminded me of a dressy Bagel Bite. I can't remember what the waitress called it, but it oozed cheese and bacon and tomato atop a crispy phyllo tartlet shell. I washed all that down with champagne, then bourbon and 7-Up. And ended with some yummy cupcakes.

On Saturday, it was off to Keeneland for the races. Of course I was more interested in the KY specialty called burgoo, a meaty stew, than betting. It was good, but I have to admit that the fat beef frank that CabbageLover ordered was even more satisfying.

Those were mere snacks, though. We left the races a bit early to make a pilgrimage to White Castle. It was my first time, and it was sooo worth it! For once I enjoyed onions on my cheeseburger (or, more accurately, slyder). Other slyders I also tried: chicken ring, bacon cheeseburger and fish. I couldn't be stopped. As we left, I checked out the breakfast options. Bologna! CabbageLover, I declared, we're coming back here tomorrow morning.

Amid all this eating I had developed some cold symptoms, so I skipped the post-wedding bar outing that night and took a nap. Then I consumed a midnight meal at Waffle House. It was my first time at the chain, though Houston does have locations. My chocolate chip waffle was not fully cooked and a little too chocolatey, but still, I could tell it had potential. CabbageLover's sweet cream version was near perfect.

The White Castle folks greeted us again for breakfast. The fried(!) bologna, egg and cheese was Oh.So.Good, and the sausage, egg and cheese worth the trip, too. Sadly, the bacon, egg and cheese was kinda dry. Hash browns were greasy but fabulous, crisp on the outside and moist on the inside.

Then it was off to Midway, a picturesque, small town with fun shops and casual/upscale-ish eateries that weren't open around noon. We wandered into Quirk, a charming cafe with a downstairs bookshop. Quirk had high, airy ceilings, great natural light and an appealing menu.

I asked for a mug of apricot tea and a bourbon chocolate chip scone while CabbageLover got some coffee and a cherry scone. This time, my chocolate chip-studded food was much better, though the chips dominated the pleasing bourbon flavor too much.

Next, we drove to Versailles to visit Woodford Reserve Distillery. Essentially old gray buildings smelling of alcohol, but much cooler than that sounds.

The Bible Belt law prevented us from an undoctored taste of the bourbon (it was Sunday), but the chocolate bourbon balls we were allowed were delightful. (So, too, the nonalcoholic peach tea.)

Before heading to the airport, we returned to Midway to Wallace Station for sandwiches -- meatloaf & cheddar and Aussie grilled cheese with tomatoes and pesto -- and vinegar coleslaw. The sandwich fillings were good, but I absolutely loved the light but thick, toasty bread, with its excellent sandwich-pressed crunch. We topped that meal off with a scoop of Valentine's chocolate bourbon ice cream. What a buzz!

French Toast stuffed with roasted pears and cream cheese

CabbageLover treated me to a fantastic Sunday brunch of French toast stuffed with roasted pears and cream cheese. I topped each slab with Frentel butter while he drizzled on a ginger-infused maple syrup with a touch of apple juice. We also gobbled up some bacon, cantaloupe and berries.

Oh, yum!

CabbageLover, I said, this is delicious! A dish I would order at a restaurant. Would you be interested in guestblogging about your creation?

Well, no, he said, because then you couldn’t rave about my creation. So humble, no?

Anyway, he woke early Sunday to roast Asian and Anjou pears with vanilla and spices including cinnamon (he really wanted fresh peaches, but they weren’t in season). He cut thick pieces of French(?) bread, then butterflied each portion so he could smear cream cheese and tuck in the pear slices. (In full journalistic disclosure, this account is a recreation based on noteless reporting, as I was not privy to any of it firsthand.)

CabbageLover arrived at my pad with the bread already stuffed. He soaked each piece in an egg wash that included milk and half and half, then fried the bread in an oiled nonstick skillet. A beautiful golden brown crust developed. I ate two pieces Sunday. And another Monday.


CabbageLover, I said, what’s on the menu next week?!

Ouisie's Table

NoLaNative and I joined her buddy, CrabCakeLover, at Ouisie’s Table for brunch Saturday.

NoLaNative picked out the restaurant, a belated birthday gift to herself. I’d always been curious about Ouisie’s, but had never been there. It’s always seemed so River Oaksy for an everyday gal like myself. But we had a lovely time. Our late brunch in the bright, enclosed patio room was very relaxed. The service was pleasant and the bottomless mimosas the perfect ratio of OJ and champagne.

CrabCakeLover started with – surprise! – crab cakes while NoLaNative and I split a plate of cornmeal-crusted oysters. They were excellent, crispy on the outside, soft on the inside and not a bit greasy. I could’ve eaten waaay more than two.

I’d heard the shrimp and grits – one of my favorite Southern dishes – are good here, but the moment my menu-scanning eyes landed on “seafood crepes,” I knew I had to get them. I’m a sucker for any kind of crepes. These were dressed with a bechamel sauce.

The crepes were nice enough, but they cried out for a little acid and kick; I should’ve request a lemon wedge and some cayenne. CrabCakeLover got a chicken dish, which didn’t excite me, seeing as I almost never order chicken (especially white meat!) anywhere except for Tapioca Express, where the pepper crispy popcorn chicken rocks. NoLaNative nabbed the shrimp and grits, which I regretted not ordering.

But that wisp of disappointment disappeared the minute I slipped a piece of tres leches cake in mouth. Oh. So. Good! (When I first tasted tres leches cake a long while ago, it was another one of those eye-opening, I’m-so-glad-I’m-in-Houston moments, right up there with boiled crawfish.) Though I had my doubts about ordering it at a very unLatin establishment, this cake was super moist and milky. No complaints. NoLaNative got the chocolate raspberry crème brulee – decent, but I’m all raspberried out since DessertFest2007 – and CrabCakeLover got the eggy house custard.

Ouisie’s, I’ll be back.

millie's belated birthday @ first crush

whoops forgot to finish writing this blog entry. it's been sitting around as a draft for awhile. sadly i've also forgotten the details of the delicious march 4th dinner. ironically i started the entry with a definition of "belated."

belated. adj. Having been delayed; done or sent too late: a belated birthday card. - Answers.com

it's almost three weeks since my friend, colleague and former floridian roommate, millie celebrated her birthday. when i say belated, i just said "happy birthday, millie." a week ago, i called her to say, "i didn't show up for your birthday shindig. i'm taking you to dinner." first crush came to mind since we tried to go a few months ago but the restaurant was closed.

i originally heard of first crush from my friend christine. we were both bay area native kids, living in houston. one evening, we were talking about restaurants in san francisco. "have you eaten at first crush?" she asks. "it's the perfect date place. great french californian food. you must go." and her expression lights up. you have to go has never left my head. when i moved back to san francisco, i took a friend to try the place. i honestly can't remember what we ate. but i do recall we both were satisfied and very pleased by the meal. we both noted we have to come back.

millie was running late for our 7p reservations which gave me the chance to review their meal posted outside. their menu has change since the last time i dined there. the winter menu has heavier meatier-sounding items. she finally arrives looking like lois lane coming off an assignment.

after reviewing the menu, millie said "let's go with the small plates. and then we can share." i nodded. "mmm, the duck sounds good."

we ordered:
"crush" oysters — a cheese covered cooked oyster
trio of roasted squash — slices of squash and one of them was a spaghetti squash dressed over the others.
pan seared scallops — scallops with a pomegrante sauce.
tender duck confit phyllo

aeropress follow-up

this morning, i made a cup of coffee with my aeropress, following yesterday's formula. but this time i'm using my favorite organic/fair trade hazelnut blended coffee. this hazelnut blend is lighter in roast than yesterday's costco branded super dark french roast which isn't my favorite. wow... the aeropress hazelnut coffee tasted smooth, no hint of bitterness and clean. and this is better coffee than the french press. but the bean's oils which heavily characterizes a french pressed coffee is gone. the color was surprisingly dark yet clear (imagine tawny port wine). with my usual amount of milk and sugar... the coffee was even smoother — no harsh bitterness!

i don't have a solid conclusion of which is better. i need to conduct more comparisons with the aeropress and the french press. experimenting with coffee makers, how fun!

fact: the makers of the aeropress created the aerobie frisbee!

french press vs. aeropress

french press vs. aeropress

not too long ago i read about a new coffee press called the aeropress which combines the techniques of both a paper dip and a french press. the aeropress forces the water and ground mixture through a paper filter into a mug. the company of the aeropress claims it'll create a "richer, smoother cup of coffee." i like that sound of that.

also recently, i was concerned about health issues from french pressed coffee. according to wiki and a research study linked on 'french press' wiki, french pressed coffee "increases LDL ("bad") cholesterol levels... The French press method allows certain Diterpenes, such as Cafestol and Kahweol, to remain in the coffee while other brewing methods either remove or limit these chemicals." this is very dishearting (no pun intended) for a person who enjoys using the french press. with that information, i decided to look into manual paper filtered coffee.

this past saturday, i came across the $30 aeropress at sur la table while my buddy min was shopping at west elm in corte madera. out of the box, the aeropress looks like a syringe or in my brother's words, "a penis pump." the aeropress has four parts — plunger, chamber, cap and filter. after looking over the instructions, the aeropress was easy to use... so i bought it, figuring that i'll do a comparison of results with french pressed coffee.

brewing with the french press & aeropress

the french press is the simplest manual coffee maker. scoop some grounds into the press cup, add water, stir, cover with press plunger/filter, brew for a couple of minutes, push plunger and pour.

with multiple parts of the aeropress, it's not quite as easy. you place a filter into the cap, lock cap onto the chamber, place chamber over a mug, drop scoop of grounds into the chamber over the filter, pour desired amount of water, stir, insert plunger into chamber and press. once you start pouring water into the chamber, it immediately starts to drip into the cup. the plunger forces the water and ground through the filter.

french pressed coffee & aeropress coffee

here are the results (drinking both black): the french press coffee was muddy and dark looking with grounds. the taste was smooth and slightly bitter with character. the aeropress produced an amber clear coffee, looking more like bourbon. the taste was clean, very bitter and smooth. the characteristics of the beans weren't as prominent as the french press. i assume the filter took away some of coffee bean oils.

i prefer the french press for the bean's character. i didn't like the strong bitterness from the aeropress. however my brother prefers the penis pumped coffee for it's clear and clean taste. i'll post some more tasting notes after trying them with milk and sugar.

xiao long bao

just want to note that i had xiao long bao this saturday at yank sing with my friends chloe and min. we had three steamers worth. mmm... yum yum. i wish i had more.

Pulcinella Ristorante

NolaNative and I stopped by Pulcinella in Katy for dinner Saturday.

Houstonians in the far-flung suburb of Katy, you ask? Happily, we were in the neighborhood of a popular Neopolitan-style pizza joint there, thanks to our shopping expedition at Katy Mills (where I gave into my usual, insatiable mall/airport craving and downed an insanely unhealthy MochaLatta Chill from Cinnabon).

Our menu:
Antipasto
Pizza Margherita
Pizza Quattro Formaggio

We chose the antipasto because neither of our pizzas contained meat, and we wanted some. The assorted cheeses, meats and olives were good, but I’m still battling a monthslong, self-inflicted prosciutto fatigue, so please don’t make me dwell on this topic…

Now I know that Neopolitan-style pies are not supposed to be drowning in cheese and toppings like their American counterparts, but I couldn’t help wishing the restaurant had been just a little more generous with the mozzarella on their otherwise tasty pizzas. At least give me a smidge of cheese in each bite of Margherita –- would that have been so hard? I also wished the four cheeses -- provolone and mozzarella, ricotta and bleu -- on the Quattro Formaggio had been better distributed, with at least two cheeses partyin’ in each bite. It’s a good thing the antipasto platter had the delicious bleu, because I never got to taste it on the pizza. And because of the hearty dollops of ricotta, NolaNative likened it to lasagna (which was fresh on her mind, since she had just baked a pan recently).

The next day, I upped the cheese-crust ratio and gobbled down three leftover slices with some melted slivers of a young, semisoft pecorino (noticeably more assertive than the aged stuff). Now that’s good eatin’.

Frentel butter

I keep overeating.

I blame Frentel.

Frentel is a French butter that I grew up eating in America, thanks to my dad, who grew up eating it in Vietnam. It comes in a red can, which would last quite a while in our family fridge. I remember my father would put dabs of the addictive stuff on cooked veggies, in banh mi thit, even on some piping hot Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. Everyday butter makes everything better, but Frentel is so, so much better still!

I hadn’t eaten it for years when I spied the familiar red can on a recent Asian grocery trip. I have been smearing it on everything imaginable since. Even Wheat Thins taste wonderful with a curl of Frentel. Instantly flavorful, this butter quickly coats the tongue and finishes a little salty. Food has become a mere a vehicle for my rediscovered love.

On Friday, in honor of retro dining and for an upcoming expose (ha!) on low-sodium soups, I slid a sliver of Frentel into a bowl of Campbell’s chunky chicken noodle -- Healthy Request, OK? (Alongside a poached egg, of course.) Mmm.

I only ate half a can, so guess what’s for dinner tonight?

yuanyang

some time ago, my dad and i were talking about the coffee beans we bought on kona. we're big coffee drinkers. somehow the conversation lead into tea. "have you hear of yuanyang?" my dad asks.

"no. what is it?"
"it's a coffee tea drink. very popular in hong kong."
my mom had to inject something into the conversation, "i had a co-worker who drank that all the time."

afterwards, i got interested in the idea of mixing coffee and tea. i googled around to learn more about it. and finding out how to spell 'yuanyang' wasn't easy. eventually, i found it on wikipedia. however there wasn't much to go on. [read yuanyang wiki] it's funny how 'western' society debates if the drink was invented in hong kong. my mom later added that the co-worker drank yuanyang during the '70s. she also mentioned during the sf muni bus strike of that era, her co-worker would go out to by a cup of coffee and tea and mix the two at her desk. the actual origin or history of yuanyang is pretty much like the chicken or the egg question.

using my french press, i decided to try it. i'm probably doing this all wrong but who cares. i took a scoop of my free-trade 'organic' hazelnut coffee and several pinches of black tea leaves from mariage freres into my french press. poured some boiling water. and waited for four minutes.

the color is different. with my grounded coffee alone, it has a brownish muddy appearance. but this yuanyang has the clarity of tea appearing more blackish than the usual dark red color of black tea leaves. the taste is definitely more coffee than tea. maybe the balance wasn't right. after the tasting, i add some milk since i don't usually drink coffee black.

i will have to try again to strike the right balance for the "yin and yang" of coffee and tea.

guest blogger: golden chopsticks

friday evening, my brother alex and i attended my uncle's 60th birthday dinner bash at a tiny chinese restaurant which the extended family easily filled. i didn't eat much and was too busy taking pictures of my 4 month old niece with my cousin's nikon d50. here's a review from my brother:

The quality of an unknown Chinese restaurant may be best determined by the number of Chinese construction workers partaking in the victuals therein, my parents like to say. Those men need large helpings to supply the energy they need to make it through the day, my mother reasons, and, furthermore, those men work so hard for their money that they look for the best bargains possible.

Of course, this criterion invariably leads to a certain kind of restaurant. It is often cramped and dirty with terrible service. One proprietor, who happened to be my best friend’s father, made a terribly impolitic report about my weight before I ate, making me suffer through every wonderful dish of bubbling sauces and inviting meats. But with five construction workers spread out at the other tables, I knew better than to casually dismiss the eatery for its affront to my appetite, for surely to eat is merely an act of survival! And I try my best to survive.

Tonight was a wholly new experience at the immaculate Good Chopstick on the northeast corner of the intersection of Balboa Street and 18th Ave. It seems to me that after years under the yoke of emperors, Confucianism, foreign imperialists and, finally, fascist communism, Chinese restaurant proprietors in America offered just the right amount of rudeness — a sort of ironic “bite the hand that feeds” — to its customers. You want us to refill your tea kettle? You’ll have to ask at least twice and wait five minutes before it’ll happen. You want us to remove your plates piled high with fish bones and lobster shells? Well, we’ll give you half-clean plates that you’ll have to wipe with your table napkin before being usable.

All in all, reasonable.

But the purveyors of the Good Chopstick were eager to please, clearing off our encumbered plates four times through the course of the evening in a most un-American manner (surely they can better revel in their newfound freedoms than this helpful politeness).

The highlight among the dishes was the second appetizer, a plate of shrimp and string beans alongside nuggets of deep-fried sweetened milk. After chewing through through the salty shell, the inside burst apart into a kind of tapioca, giving me hope that my friend, journalist Dan Verel, will someday fulfill his ambition to deep fry mayonnaise and market it to Southerners and the Irish.

Otherwise, the food was merely pleasant.

But what can you expect? There weren’t any construction workers in the building.

raspberry lambic ice cream

you'll get dizzy watching the raspberry ice cream spin.

shortly after telling janel that i'm writing a food blog with my friend MV, she actually read it. the idea of making raspberry lambic ice cream got stuck in her head when she read a beer cooking article by MV.

"it's so red!" she said, sounding like it's our mission to make this rosy red beer ice cream. however the original recipe had gelatin. janel is vegetarian so bone marrow-based gelatin was a big no-no. "gelatin in your ice cream?! that's not very 'cream' at all." over a series of conversations, we planned to modify the ice cream recipe, using our previous knowledge and attempts of ice cream-making.

we decided to make a 'true' cream based lambic ice cream, bypassing the use of gelatin. here's what we came up with:

• 1/8 cup sugar
• 3 egg yolks
• 3/4 cup whole milk
• 3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
• 6 ounce raspberry puree (frozen or fresh. we used frozen.)
• 1/2 cup (more give than take) framboise lambic beer
• makes 1/2 quart in a cuisinart ice cream maker
  

we're not professional chefs so we winged much of the process. first, we puree the raspberries into her tiny generic magic bullet blender with spoon of sugar and short pour of lambic. "not too much!" janel warning me. "blending fuzzy stuff will explode!"

"don't worry," i said as i poured while she ran around the corner. "well, i'll be the one covered in lambic and raspberry guts," i said while blending. and of course, not bad happened. and a good thing too... i hate to ruin my favorite western shirt. the non-explosive raspberry puree was placed in the freezer. i just like scaring her.

"shouldn't we strain the seeds out of the puree," questions janel.

"what? we'll lose the crunch and texture," i rebutted. she gave me a look of 'are you crazy? it's your fault if the ice cream sucks.'

next we needed to build the cream base. janel cracked the eggs and juggled the yolks out from the whites into a bowl. we added a spoon of sugar while beating the eggs which we set aside.

for the cream, janel suggested a double boiler technique to prevent over cooking. we took a large pot filled with water and let it boil. in a smaller pot which will float on top of the boiling water, we added all our milk, cream and sugar. we slightly simmered the cream. with the medium hot cream, janel slowly poured half into the eggs while i stirred the mixture. the cream can't be too hot otherwise the eggs will cook. once the cream and eggs are incorporated together, pour that egg/cream mixture back into the small pot with the remaining cream. now you have the bases of the custard. slowly stir and simmer the custard until it's thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.

with the thicken cream mixture, we had to quickly cool it and place it in the fridge. to prevent skin forming on the cream, we covered it with plastic wrap. "in france, milk skin is a delicacy," says french-blooded janel. "you spread the skin and butter on bread. it's so gross." yup, gross.

much of the hard work is done now. since i bought a really big bottle of lambic, we served ourselves a glass and toasted each other for a job well done.

while the main components of ice cream are sitting in the fridge, we played a card game of spit to pass the time. this was our first rematch since new year's. she won last time. and i'm determine to win. with her smooth confidence and reining championship spit title, she easily won the first game. "two out of three!" i whined.

"begging to lose," she replied with her hyper-competitive eyes.

in game two, i gave her a challenge. "let's check on the ice cream." she must be stressing over the possibility of losing to me. i agreed. the components were still warm so we continued the game of spit and wits. some time passed. this second round is getting intense. then, i lost. "ok, let's check if the thingies have cooled."

the ice cream components were indeed cold. we took them out of the fridge and stirred the two together. the rosy bright red puree swirled into the yellowish cream. the properly mixed "ice cream" is slowly poured into the ice cream maker. there's nothing like the noise of making ice cream. it's basically a loud motor noise. we stood around the kitchen chatting. "we should make a syrup!" said janel, looking at the leftover lambic.

"sure. that would be great." we poured the remaining lambic into a small pot. we heated the lambic with about 1/2 cup of sugar until it reduced. after thirty minutes, the ice cream was ready and the warm syrup was cooling in the freezer. "i'm feeling a hungry. should we save the ice cream for dessert?" i asked janel. she mildly agreed, looking as if she wanted to eat the ice cream first. we packed the ice cream into a contain and hide it in the freezer.

we combed through her pile of menus for places around her apartment. but nothing seemed to interest us. so we walked out into the cold and headed downtown. we eventually settled to eat at le colonial where i order a pan-seared salmon in curry while janel order sea bass steamed in banana leaves. both were good. dinner ended with former sf mayor willie brown coming into the restaurant greeting diners at the table next to us. he noticed that i was looking at him. he says "hi. how are you?" and i replied a respectful nod.

raspberry lambic ice cream topped with blackberries and raspberries.

we quickly walked back to the ice cream. we warmed to two scoops of raspberry lambic ice cream that was dressed with fresh raspberries and blackberries. we dripped the lambic syrup over the fruits and ice cream. our version of the ice cream is much more pinkish than the rosy red gelatin version MV made. i think it's due to hers gelatin vs. our full cream base. we brought the ice cream to the table and continued another round of spit. the silky tasting ice cream was creamy and bursting with strong raspberries. however light on the lambic. maybe i like that fuller robust taste of alcohol in my food. the seeds did give it a crunch and texture which janel liked. she retracted her ealier comment about the seeds. from the look of her expression, she enjoyed her ice cream along with the taste of victory.

keller + french = burgers

it seems if you're a big time chef with the last name of keller and cook french, you're destined to open a burger place. hubert keller of fleur de lys in las vegas said he wants to bring a burger joint to san francisco called burger bar. wasn't it just last year, thomas keller of french laundry fame wanted to open a burger joint?

source:
1. Keller bringing Burger Bar to San Francisco
2. An ad hoc look at Ad Hoc

basil thai

wok-fried catfish and sticky rice. photo by janel

following the allagash + chocolate event at city beer store on thursday night (read allagash + chocolate posting), janel and i went across the street to basil thai. she said she went there once with ellie once and thought it wasn't bad. since we were hungry-ish (and probably lazy to walk anywhere else), we gave it a shot.

as you walk into basil thai, you notice the modestly light contemporary decor, reminding me of those 'cool hip' restaurants opening during the dot-com era (yes, i was once a dot-commie). basil thai opened around the height of the SOMA rebirth and death of the dot-com... yet it remains unlike it's many cohorts. we were seated at the back end of the restaurant next to a large party. the second thing you were notice is the noise level. it's loud. it was hard to hear janel but don't worry, i was listening.

their menu was big and very thai. "there's more to the menu?!" said a surprised janel. it's more gourmet than your usual small local thai places. apparently the kitchen was closing in fifteen minutes after we were seated. and our waiter was kindly rushing us to order (mean really really kind "i'm so sorry to rush you" bowing kind). we shared an order of pla-doo pad-pik (wok-fried catfish in red curry and peppercorns), pak rad kang (various vegetables in green curry), jasmine rice and sticky rice.

in the middle of a great conversation, dinner arrives. we pause. you can smell the thai curries. the rice plates were smaller than we imagine. the sticky rice was in a small ball and looking dry. no doubt that sticky rice is the leftovers from the night. remember we were eating when the kitchen was closing. although the lighting was yellowish dim, the color from the plates strikes you — reds, greens, yellows. "there's bell peppers!" warns janel. i hate bell peppers. red bell peppers are fine and i'll eat them but green, eck! i hate that raw grass taste.

the wok-fried catfish was crispy and covered in a beautiful red curry sauce. janel pointed out the peppercorns. there's a nice spicy peppery hotness to the catfish. the eggplant in the dish soothes the heat while it absorbed the surrounding flavors. that's one thing cool about eggplant... it takes in the flavors well while it has no 'real' distinctive taste of its own. the vegetable curries was also good, filled with eggplant, zucchini, mushrooms and sigh, bell peppers. the creamy green curry was nicely done to satisfy that thai craving without being runny and thin like bad thai places. it was a nice mixed with the spiciness of the catfish dish.

the night was getting late (11:45p). we finished a good portion of our dishes but not all of it. the service was polite but it's obvious that they wanted us out to close the place down. the restaurant crew were around the bar eating. we weren't the last two in the place... there's a party of four at the front end who were loud and deeply planted in their seats. after the third time, we've asked if we wanted to pack the dinner... we let them. i wish we were there a bit earlier because i wanted to see their dessert menu. but i bet it's pretty standard thai items. definitely a place to go for great thai food after some beers at city beer store. food: A-/B+ service: B+/A-

allagash curieux + chocolates

thursday janel got a last minute emailed newsletter on a city beer store & tasting bar event: "Properly aged in Kentucky bourbon barrels Allagash Curieux is a beer begging to be paired with rich dark chocolate. Awaken your curiosity with a marriage of chocolate and beer from 5:00-9:00pm," stated the email.

"this sounds fun... interested?" she asks.

anytime anyone has the idea of going to city beer store, i'm interested. located on the northern edge of soma (south of market), city beer store is a hidden gem for beer drinkers and beer nerds. the owner craig opened the shop under a year ago in a storefront of a "hip" loft complex. craig's idea came from wine tasting and wine bars which flooded every corner of this city like starbucks and locusts. his unique idea has created a beer cult. i don't visit city beer often but you'll see locals and familiar faces from previous visits. the shop has five fridges cooling selected beers while in the back corner have shelved individual bottles. you can either buy an bottle or a pack. the beers ranges from almost every country to every style of beer, depending what craig could get his hands on. in the center is a counter with small fridges where craig will chill your opened bottles along with four taps that rotates weekly. besides selling beer, there's a few beer glasses and books for sale.

[photo of the store by janel]

the event itself was a cool idea although i'm generally weary of anything pairing with chocolate. wine and chocolates? hell no. maybe vintage port. chocolate and bourbon? i don't know. wine and beer? what the?! chocolate usually works best on its own. luckily i was in good hands. janel was a former chocolate taster and has a stern palatte.

the first time i had a brew from allagash was around christmas. janel and ellie bought me a bottle of their curieux as a gift. allagash curieux is a tripel stored in bourbon casks for a few weeks. from the tap, the allagash tastes a bit different by being a little smoother. the color on first pour is a golden amber with a medium head. the scent was heavily fruity and citrus... with no hint of bourbon?! strange, where's the vanilla?! i recall from the bottled allagash that there was a subtle bourbon nose. did the kegged version lose it's bourbon-ness from storage? i don't know. however the fruits nose lead to a pear/apple taste which was crisp and malty without the bourbon flavors. has my tongue and nose adapted to the actual high proof bourbon? and hinting of bourbon doesn't really register with my senses?

so how did the curieux pair with the chocolates (80%? dark, cappuccino dark and milk)? not every well. craig said to concentrate on the bourbon vanilla of the beer when tasting. but the two just didn't work together. the dark was just ok. the cappuccino and the curieux was terrible. i recommend: never to leave any amount of cappuccino chocolate left on your tongue when taking a swig of beer. i flinched and scrunched my face... it's probably the same reaction i'll give when eating green bell peppers. the milk and curieux... er, nope. ok, so the pairing wasn't the greatest. however the chocolates were good. i can't remember the name of the dark chocolate one but it was janel's favorite when she was a chocolate taster. she has this expertise expression when she's smelling something. from her eyes, you can see she's registering and thinking about the scents given from the chocolates. whereas i'm like "WOHO! chocolates! me eat! me eat!"

the conclusion: i like allagash's curieux. it's a nice medium bodied beer that drinks well shared with company (like janel or a clone of her). and would definitely pair well with cheese. however the flavors of the beer and chocolates were battling each other like the armies of rohan and gondor duking it out with the hordes of orcs on the pelennor fields.

Mardi Gras Grill

I ate a whole basket of battered and deep-fried pickles.

I didn’t mean to. I certainly didn’t start dinner Thursday night with such a thoroughly unhealthy intention. I didn’t even harbor much of an appetite and had no plans to blog about the meal. (Then again, when has lack of hunger ever prevented me from eating? Plus, it's so rare that I actually get any kind of hunger pangs!)

CabbageLover and I went to Mardi Gras Grill for boiled crawfish. (Boiled crawfish is one of my favorite things about living in Houston.) It was my third time at this joint. The first visit last year resulted in a lame, overpriced experience, when I mistakenly ordered a bland-tasting, unsatisfying entree of crab-stuffed shrimp. I remember leaving and thinking: I would’ve been so much happier with a Sourdough Jack or some Popeye’s Chicken. The second time I went, I was joined by a different crew, including LexingtonNative. We got a bunch of wonderfully seasoned crawfish and a few appetizers, among them LexingtonNative’s choice of fried pickle slices. Yum! She grew up eating the delicacy in Kentucky.

So this time, I knew what to get. CabbageLover and I started with a basket of pickles and two pounds of crawfish. We got two small red potatoes and two tiny pieces of corn on the cob with our crawfish. (I wish they’d give you more veggies, but I guess they don’t want you filling up on the cheap filler.) The pickles arrived first, with a mildly herbaceous buttermilk sauce (um, watery Ranch dressing, perhaps?). Wow! Crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside and not a bit oily – even better than last time! Instantly I knew these pickles would become my next food obsession. As we neared the end of our two pounds of crawfish, I proposed another pound. Then we eyed the empty pickle basket. We wanted more, but could we, in good conscience, continue this deep-fried mania?

Of course. We caved and asked for a half order. Well, Mardi Gras Grill does not do half orders, we learned, so we got a regular, full order. CabbageLover mumbled something about bringing the leftovers home, but we polished them off completely. I bet they are fantastic on a burger.

I am definitely going for fried pickles in Lexington!

t'afia

I don’t get around to many Happy Hours, but of the ones I do, t’afia’s definitely rules in my unwritten book. Fresh, fruity cocktails, at regular price but with free(!), quality bites.

My favorites on the can’t-miss menu:
- chickpea fries with curry ketchup
- pimento mac ‘n’ cheese
- rosemary biscotti with bleu cheese and honey.

I had a very girly, very refreshing Pom-tini (which included pomegranate, orange and grapefruit).

Sorry, no food/drink shots Wednesday; I'm a self-conscious photographer in darkened spaces, but working hard to shed that blog-hindering quality!

Banana chocolate chip cupcakes with chocolate cream cheese frosting

I like bananas, but am not a fan of banana baked goods. Banana bread/pudding/cream pie – ick! Earlier this month, though, I had a taste of Sprinkles Bakery’s banana cupcake with dark chocolate frosting and was hooked. (The irony is I had bought that particular treat for CabbageLover, who could also be called BananaBakedGoodsLover. I cut off a piece before giving him the bulk of it and, when I finally got around to tasting it, wished I had kept the rest.)

So since I do not live near a Sprinkles, I decided to make my own version. The occasion? Bollywood night at BollywoodLover’s pad. What better to go with spicy samosas and Rang De Basanti?

As with almost any of my cooking/baking endeavors, I stopped by Central Market to pick up some key, good-quality-within-my-price-range ingredients, including Callebaut chocolate chips. I based my cupcakes on a recipe for Banana Chip Snack Cake from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook.

Because my bananas weren’t as ripe as I needed, I roasted them in the oven to bring out the sugars. The reliable folks at Cook’s Illustrated are always good for tips like that.

For the frosting, I tweaked a cream cheese frosting recipe for carrot cake. I simply melted a chunk of chocolate, chopped, in my Kitchen Aid mixing bowl over simmering water, briefly cooled the bowl in ice water, then whipped in cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, salt, milk and vanilla extract. There’s nothing that makes my body and palate more miserable than excessive sugar, so I halved the amount of sugar the ATK recipe called for, beating in only ¾ cup. Next time, I’ll add unsweetened cocoa powder to deepen the chocolate flavor.

The batch made 16 cupcakes. To transport them 1 ½ miles, I placed 11 cupcakes in a 12-cupcake pan. When I arrived at BollywoodLover’s place, the missing 12th cupcake came up.

You ate it, didn’t you? she and her guests interrogated me.

Yup, I had to make sure I was offering up a decent dessert, I replied.

I didn’t let on that 4 other cupcakes hadn’t made the journey over, either.


Banana Chocolate Chip Cupcakes
Adapted from the Banana Chip Snack Cake recipe in The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook
Makes 16 cupcakes

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 ½ teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
1 ¼ cup sugar
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs, at room temperature
2 very ripe large bananas, peeled and mashed (1 cup)*
½ cup whole milk, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¾ cup semisweet chocolate chips

Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 350 degrees. Line cupcake pans.

Beat the sugar and butter together in a large bowl with an electric mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, 3-6 minutes.

Beat in the eggs, one at a time, until incorporated. Scrape the bowl and beaters as needed.

Beat in the bananas, milk and vanilla.

Whisk the flour mixture into the egg mixture until no streaks of flour remain. Stir in the chocolate chips.

Pour the batter into the liners, filling each about 2/3 full. Smooth the tops. Bake 18-22 minutes, or until a knife inserted into a cupcake center comes out with a few crumbs attached.

Cool the cupcakes on a wire rack before frosting.

*Note: If your bananas are yellow but not ripe enough, roast them unpeeled in the oven for 15 minutes. Cool before using.

Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting
Recipe adapted from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook

palm-size chunk of semisweet chocolate, chopped
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 tablespoon milk
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
pinch of salt
¾ cup powdered sugar (more if needed and/or to taste)

Stir the chocolate until melted in a steel or glass mixing bowl over a pot of simmering water. Cool the bowl in ice water.

Once the melted chocolate has cooled, add the cream cheese and butter and beat until combined. Beat in the milk, vanilla, salt and sugar until the frosting is fluffy.

FuFu Cafe

CabbageLover and I grabbed a late dinner at FuFu Cafe at 9889 Bellaire on Friday. I was pining for xiao long bao and had heard it was on the menu.

CF first told me about xiao long bao years ago, but we could never find any in Houston. I finally had my first taste of it in 2005, at Joe’s Shanghai in New York City. I had just finished dim sum with two cousins and, as we left the restaurant, I realized we were just blocks from a location of the touristy chain. I suggested we go for its famous soup dumplings. My cousins – neither of them a regular dining partner of mine since we don’t live in the same city – thought I was crazy. Admittedly, we were all stuffed. But the sometimes-food-writer-in-me felt it was perfectly normal to visit one restaurant right after another (and another…). So they humored me and went along and we had a fun, delicious time eating too much.

My second taste was when CF and I went to Yank Sing in San Francisco in 2006. I was in town for a friend’s Berkeley wedding, but made sure I had a full day to devote to the foods of SF. It was just CF and me, but we got every piece of dim sum that appealed. I remember wishing we had ordered two portions of those dumplings; they were so good.

I knew not to get my hopes up for the xiao long bao in Houston. If they turned out to be decent enough for a quick fix, I would be happy.

They were. I do wish the dumpling wrappers had been thinner and as delicate as Yank Sing’s, but no complaints about the meat filling and savory broth inside.

CabbageLover and I also tried one of my favorite Chinese dishes, creamy honey walnut shrimp, along with pork lo mein and spicy Beijing noodles. The Beijing noodles were lacking in heat and too heavy on the peanut butter. At first glance, the roast pork and skinny egg noodles seemed utterly boring, but the broth was flavorful and the dish grew on us till the bowl was empty. The walnut shrimp were nicely cooked, but they were so heavily dressed in the mayonnaise-based sauce that I couldn’t truly enjoy the dish.

But back to my beloved dumplings. Next time I’m in L.A., I’m definitely trekking to Din Tai Fung. And you can bet that my trip to China later this year will be full of xiao long bao!

the deadly dinner @ burgermeister

my deadly dinner at burgermeister on 3.25.07

staple. a fucking giant industrial staple was in my cole slaw. how does that happen?! luckily it didn't cut me. luckily it didn't chip a tooth. luckily i didn't swallow it. burgermeister... you're so damn lucky.

the day was pretty busy. the entire afternoon my family were at the cemetery for chinese version of 'day of the dead' which we honor our passed family members. afterwards, we were wondering what's for dinner. we happened to be around the westlake village where a new burgermeister restaurant opened. "i'm dying for a burger," i said to my parents.

"but we're eating at grandpa's for dinner," my mom replied.
"oh, yeah. i wonder if grandpa would eat burger."
"i want a burger."
my dad chimes in, "yeah grandpa eats hamburgers. and i want a hamburger too."
i guess the urge for a burger hit us all.

after a phone call to grandpa, we pick him up from his house. he was napping after the cemetery visit. along the drive, he was reading the burger meister menu. he says "the last burger i had was dry. this better be good."

we sat down my parents and grandpa ordered a regular hamburger with fries. my dad also added a plate of buffalo wings. i ordered a cheeseburger with a pint of fat tire and a side of cole slaw. yes, i like cole slaw. besides there were three plates of fries to pick from. ten minutes later, our dinner arrives. we all were hungry. i even took pictures of the food before we took our first bites.

i steal from fries from my mom's plate and lefted a wing from my dad. watching my grandpa eat a buffalo wing was so funny. i don't think he ever had one. "SO HOT!" he was scrapping the sauce off.

after awhile, i could see the reaction to the food. my mom said "it's good. but a little over cook. i wanted medium and it's well done." my dad agreed. my grandpa didn't look too happy. mumbling in chinese "it's a bit dry."

my mom said " i have to order medium rare next time." my burger which was ordered medium was half pinkish on the medium rare side to well done on the other. how is that possible? no idea. their grill must be wonky.

i already had a few bites into my cole slaw during the meal. with my burger two thirds finished... i need a break from beef. i took a scoop of shaw... chew... "what's this? a bone." chew. "weird." i spat the entire scoop.

"WHOA! what the hell is this?! a freaking staple?!" i was staring at an inch long industrial staple that's typically used for crates. now how the fuck did something like that get into my cole slaw? i tasted metal in my mouth now.

my mom freaked, "did you cut yourself?!"
"no. luckily."
"get our waiter. show someone!"
"ok... that's just weird."

i walked up to the counter where i was greeted by three staffers. one of them being the manager, he said "hi." then looked at me with a "holy shit" expression. "are you ok?! are you bleeding?"

"no. i'm ok. i was just chewing and just noticed something weird. how did a staple get into my cole slaw?"
"i'm so sorry. are you ok? are you injured?" he pauses then answers my question. "it must have been in the package of our lettuce. i just don't know what to say. the dinner is on us."
"just so weird!" i said with probably a bewildered expression. i sat back down. i pushed the cole slaw away.

"but you love cole slaw," said my mom with a laugh.

i took another bite from my burger but i lost all desire to eat. i push away my plate. i taste metal. i taste zinc.

the manager and our waiter comes by and apologizes again, tearing up our check. we eventually walked out. however we left a tip of ten dollars since our waiter was attentive before the incident... also the manager was very heartfelt. it's no fault of theirs but it's so disgusting to discover an unwanted surprise in your dinner.

on the drive home, i felt puke-ish. i taste metal. the idea of a staple and the possibility of swallowing it made me nervous. i gagged a bit. my dad dropped me off at the house before we dropped my grandpa back to his home. i walked into the bathroom and threw up a bit. i rinsed my mouth with three full cups of mouthwash. i taste metal. and i kept thinking about the possibility of swallowing the staple. i kept thinking about the possible dirt and germs on the staple. i taste metal. i walk into my kitchen area and pour a glass of bourbon. i rinse and swallow.

i still taste metal.

burgermeister @ westlake village, you're so damn lucky. whoever is your supplier of chopped lettuced should be scolded. even your cooks should be scolded for not noticing an inch long staple! burger meister... you're so lucky that i didn't cut myself. burger meister you're so lucky i'm didn't create a scene. sorry, but i'm not going back for a long while.

worse, i'm giving up cole slaw.

[writer's note: sorry for the grammar... i'm typing on the fly while the experience is still fresh in my mind.]

Q

mussels eaten on 3.23.07. photo by ellie.

you can't get any simpler than naming your restaurant after an alphabet. located in the inner richmond on clement street, Q is simple american comfort food with a southwestern twist. Q's menu is vasts with a hamburger, pork chops, fried chicken and daily seafood specials. what makes Q so unique about their menu is the listed wine pairing with each item. this is the third time i've eaten here. their brunch is an egg lovers' heaven with your usual omelet to poached eggs on corn beef hash.

my friends janel, ellie and myself went to Q after an art opening at the park life gallery across the street. like usual, there's a line at Q with a 45 minutes wait. yes, 45 minutes. after a few minutes of wondering around waiting, we decided it was too cold to be outside and we settled at the bar. Q has a huge wine list with several beers on tap. janel orders a north coast scrimshaw pilsner while i ordered a deschutes black butte porter which she said was really good. as for ellie... well, she was still looking through the wine list. the porter was really gentle, smooth and hints a bit of chocolate. most porters tend to have a quick bitter kick finish but this one didn't. i took a little sip from janel's pilsner and i was WOWed. this philsner was so crisp, clean, light and hoppy. this is a wonderful pilsner for summer-in-the-sun drinking. janel and ellie took a sip from my porter and gave a nod of approval. eventually, ellie makes a move and orders a glass of wine. but the bar gave her a little hassle for wanting a taste. they were pretty stingy. but we couldn't figure out why. they had a few opened bottles of the same label. the wait was long and filled with a random conversation between the three of us. i finished my porter and ordered a pilsner.

thirty minutes has passed and the waitress seats us. Q is very eccentric. one wall near the bar is a painted blackboard with their specials. along another wall is a series of steel sheets with magnetic letters. there's wrought iron artwork with stringed lights of chili peppers. with whatever letters we had, the girls spells out: "who r u texan."

while we were waiting at the bar, we looked through the menu. so when we were seated... we knew what we wanted. janel ordered the catfish and chips. [i know i mentioned janel was a vegetarian in a previous posting but vegetarianism doesn't mean no fish.] ellie ordered the pork chops. and i ordered the sesame crusted ahi tuna with coconut rice. without any disagreement from janel and i, ellie ordered a dish of mussels.

the mussels were gralicy and spicy. it was worth every bite. i noticed ellie fighting a every single mussel but she resisted and shared. in previous conversations, she mentioned she once hated shellfish (she still does) but grew to love mussels after a trip to france. with all the mussels done, we ordered some more bread to dunk into the sauce.

janel gave me a bit of her catfish which was very light. the taste of catfish is subtle. it's very gentle and not too oily. i generally eat catfish the chinese way: steamed with green onion and coated in a soy sauce/sesame oil sauce. surpringly the frying of the catfish didn't overwhelm the flesh. ellie's pork chops were tender and juicy.

i really like my ahi tuna. i mean really liked. "like it? i love it? ... i want to take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant."* the tuna was thickly crusted with sesame, surrounding really tasty coconut rice, and topped off with wasbi mustard. the presentation was amazing with its pea pods pretending to be sun-rays.

after finishing our meals, we tried to decide on dessert but i think we were take too long. the restaurant crew were cleaning up and preparing to shut down the kitchen. eventually, we told one of the waitress that we're done for the night. B+/A-

* quote from tracy jordan (tracy morgan) in 30 rock from the episode, "hard ball."

Pasha

It’s not every day I fantasize about pickled cabbage.

But that’s what I think about most when I recall my late lunch last year at Pasha, a quaint Turkish restaurant in Rice Village. I had ordered grilled baby lamb chops – good grill flavor, albeit overcooked – and ended up gobbling every last bit of the magenta side of shredded cabbage. As soon as I finished, I wanted more.

So I returned Tuesday, this time for dinner, with CabbageLover.

Our menu:
- hummus
- phyllo-wrapped feta rolls
- baby lamb chops with the cabbage, plus tomato, green bell pepper, red onion and rice
- Turkish pizza with Turkish sausage (spicy, not hot)

The calf's liver appetizer called out to me, but having had a poor liver dish a few months ago at the otherwise swell Mary'z, I couldn't justify ordering another liver dish with only one companion to share the potential artery-clogging misery. It is meant for a bigger group on a different day.

CabbageLover and I had just had Yia Yia Mary’s hummus Sunday, so we couldn’t help but compare the two versions. Pasha’s was nuttier and lacked a lemony bite. We preferred Yia Yia Mary's runnier dip, but both were good (it’s hard to go wrong with hummus, I say). I wonder: Was it a difference in restaurants or countries (or both)?

The cheese in the phyllo-feta rolls tasted more brie than feta to me. That salty kick was just not there and it had a funkiness that seemed odd for feta. Still, we ate all four pieces. Addictive? Absolutely.

The Turkish pizza arrived in the shape of a flattened football. The menu listed a “thick crust” and all I could think about – dread, really -- was if it’d be as thick as the greasy pan Pizza Hut pies of my youth. Thankfully, it was not. It was also sliced into thin strips v. wedges. I longed for some more spice and CabbageLover wanted herbs and feta sprinkled on top. The salty Turkish sausage reminded me of Spanish chorizo. It wasn't hard to grab another piece...and another after that.

I didn’t like my lamb as much this time, maybe ‘cause I specified medium-rare and the chops didn’t arrive very hot, as CabbageLover so thoughtfully noted. I loved the rice, though, which had taken on some of that great grill flavor from the lamb. So it looks like my ideal dish at Pasha is grilled lamb-flavored rice and pickled cabbage. Wonder how much that would cost?

I didn’t get as much cabbage this time, though, because I was with CabbageLover. I very graciously offered him more than half of the pickled side and, no surprise, he took it!

I will have to return without him.

(My once-fabulous camera was on the fritz again, so no food shots. Darn. I actually remembered to bring it this time, too.)