Fair Weather Vegan

And You Thought Cafe Gratitude Couldn't Get More Annoying

Many San Franciscans already avoid the original because they believe in having their food cooked, and are really nonplussed at being forced to order things with silly names only by the silly names.  In case you don't know anyone who's been there, Cafe Gratitude serves dishes with names like "I Am Enlightened" or "I Am Compassionate," and if you don't order them in exactly this way, if you say 'I'll have the bean dip" or whatever, they won't serve you.  This sort of thing would have lasted about a week in Manhattan.*  Now the ownership has opened a companion vegan, organic Mexican place at 2211 Mission.  It is called, get ready, Gracias Madre.  It is going to be a stretch to get me into a place with a name like that because at some point I'll have to say it.  I can't go around calling it 'the Cafe Gratitude Mexican place' forever.  Which is a true shame because the menu looks awesome.  I will no doubt have to swallow my aversion in order to also swallow some cashew cheese and butternut squash quesadillas. 

*Although they do tolerate Shopsins.  Manhattan likes its eccentrics only in rude genius form. 

Why Is My Food Cold, Zante?

You are seven minutes from my house.  Five, the way most delivery people drive.  Why has your customer service gotten so terrible?  And why is it not that great food, either?  In short, new management is not doing so well. 

I have done almost nothing interesting viz. food in the past few weeks but hope to change that soon.  The plan is to make PPK's seitan stroganoff.  I have the seitan, now let's get cracking on the stroganoff. 

No Need To Choose Between Sweet and Savory

University Cafe has solved one of the most longstanding problems of brunch enthusiasts: do we go with something bathed in syrup or hollandaise sauce?  As part of what I believe is an expansion of the menu (I  don't remember it being this lengthy before or consistently referring to bacon as 'bacons', but I haven't lived full time in Palo Alto for more than two years so I could be wrong), the Cafe serves something called a 'semi-vegan platter.'  We presumed this name was a joke, or that the term 'semi' was being used rather expansively.  While the plate does include a slice of cantaloupe and your choice of either asparagus or spinach, its main attraction is a combo of a pancake, two pieces of brioche french toast, and an egg benedict, which for twelve bucks is one of the better brunch deals in town.  My companion forewent the pancake, dropping the price a dollar, and kindly allowed me the last half-slice of the brioche, which was excellent.  I ordered the free-standing salmon benedict and was quite happy with it, though they might want to check the functionality of their toaster as one half of the English muffin was too crisp and the other was underdone.  Also they need to head down to Joannie's for a tutorial in breakfast potato production: I couldn't manage to cut mine with a fork and they were incredibly dry on the inside.  Still if my central item is successful I'm happy.  University Cafe is a standby, sort of the Cafe Borrone of University Ave. The coffee and smoothies are good, and there is usually interesting people-watching.  Not only has this blogger met with a member of the CIA there, on this particular morning we were sitting next to an all Pac-10 softball player.  The knocks are that it can be a bit pricey, is too loud to be a good work environment, and the food has been unspectacular in the past.  It seems to be moving in the right direction now. 

Just How Sassy Is The Dungeness Crab?

Sometimes, as one of my friends put it, a restaurant makes itself a gimme.  The California Cafe is ripe for mockery, with its categorical arrangement of plates not just by element (earth, fire, etc) but also by its description of appetizers along an adjective spectrum.  Scientists are still at work trying to figure out the difference between 'sassy' and 'lively.'  Nouvelle Cuisine maintains its last fingerhold at this self-important chain, where it would take two entrees to satisfy the appetite of most human beings.  However the opportunity to ask a noted Israeli writer 'how's the salmon?' is one which I've not been afforded elsewhere (sadly he wasn't just hanging out in the restaurant; he was dining with our party).  I must have been quite hungry at that point, because I thought the salmon was pretty darn good, sauced with a creative strawberry buerre blanc and accompanied by a (tiny) portion of beautifully cooked potatoes, although the few leaves of spinach could have spent more time in the pan.  Surprisingly for a place that stakes its claim to the state name, vegetarian options are slim: a small and boring salad, a soup or two, a and margherita pizza that you could get anywhere else cheaper. Prices are outrageous in relation to portion size.  If your department is picking up the tab, this place might impress out-of-towners, but you can get way better value elsewhere for individual dining. 

FWV Shorts: Kitchenette, Lulu Taqueria

Depending on your perspective, the abundance of secret hipster hangouts is part of San Francisco's charm or yet another sign of its exclusionary cooler-than-thouitude.  Having taken a route through one of the city's few working class black neighborhoods to reach Kitchenette, the lunch counter housed in a Dogpatch loading dock, I was acutely aware of the spectacle of BMWs pulling up to disgorge well-dressed white inhabitants set to grab expensive sandwiches at this spot one generally learns about through one's social network.  The only black customer I saw wore a shirt and tie and drove an Audi, and I wondered if he'd ever visited the neighborhood just a few blocks away.  The fact that this "spontaneous organic cover nourishment" is located itself in a seriously transitional district is probably the only reason most patrons ever visit the Dogpatch.  They come for the city's obsession: food.  Vegetarian dining can be deathly dull, but Kitchenette's Friday fare was one of the most imaginative sandwiches I've had in a while, an intriguing mix of "slow-cooked cauliflower, broccoli, and pecorino cheese" provided the savory contrast with sharp hits of olive and sweet bits of pepper, all presented on a crusty baguette.  Non-veggies could be treated to Marin pastrami.  Desserts are small but refreshingly cheap and might include an organic brownie which tasted like it was made with Vahlrona chocolate.  Kitchenette serves a limited daily menu weekdays from 11:30 until it runs out of food or 1:30, whichever comes first. 

Kitchenette's industrial 'bench in the parking lot' ambiance couldn't have been more in contrast with another common Bay Area destination, the upscale outdoor mall, although both are surrounded by fancy cars.  Thursday saw me tackling one of my favorite local specialties, the Mission-style burrito.  Sadly I was not in the Mission at the time, and all foreign burritos must be viewed with a certain amount of suspicion, especially if they're being served in a place like Town and Country center in Palo Alto.  Lulu's Taqueria, which also operates a successful Menlo Park branch, maintains a small storefront there.  Trying to find something to fill my stomach and warm my hands before what promised to be a brisk evening of soccer, I took a gamble on that all-time great, the chile relleno burrito.  I really wanted a chimichanga but normally those only have chicken in them, and what better way to test the place than to choose a burrito I know well?   Lulu's does your initial prep in the back kitchen, then adds toppings at the counter, which means I didn't get to see the relleno being produced, heated or sauced.  They also broke the rules of wrapping, with a flimsy inner coat of paper and a poorly constructed layer of foil, both of which came apart almost immediately, as if they expected patrons to eat their burritos with a fork (for shame!).  That said, my first cranky impression that I'd paid ten plus dollars for a terrible burrito was unfounded.  I'd paid ten plus dollars for an inferior burrito to my local version, with much less robust and flavorful beans and rice, too much cilantro, and an undercooked chile, as well as no sour cream to speak of, but since my local version is the city's best the bar is high.  It was a perfectly adequate quick dinner, but since only South Bay denizens would refer to Lulu's as reasonably priced, it didn't give great value for the money.  I'm not writing the taqueria off yet until I try the chimichangas, which do in fact come in a cheese version, but thus far for quick, cheap meals it's not the best local bet. 

Bay Area Pizza Update

FL: Where's this pizza from?

Start-Up Dude: Ramona's.  It's New York style.

FL: It's really good, and I like it.  But no, it's not.

Start-Up Dude: You know, you're right.  

I must have passed Ramona's a hundred times because it's right off California avenue, but I never went in.  While not New York pizza (it's too thick and the cheese consistency isn't the same glorious greasy mess), Ramona's makes a pretty decent slice.  I especially enjoyed the mushroom-pineapple combo, a pleasant mix of savory and periodic bites of sweet.  Other party-goers raved about the Greek, which included feta and spinach.  It was a bit sharp for my taste and I wasn't sure the ingredients hung together that well, but that may just be the opinion of a topping wimp.  

Back up in the city, one wonders why those who least deserve to have a stellar pizza place always get one.  Patxi's has just opened a new location in the Marina/Cow Hollow district, neighborhood voted most likely to be cheered as it floats away during the Big One.  The first SF location is in the expensive part of Hayes Valley.  Pizza to the people, we say!  I will admit that the area is gorgeous at night right now, courtesy of the twinkly lights, but it comes with such baggage and such a high bill that it's someplace many San Franciscans don't even think of making a destination. 

How To Spy A Special Restaurant

If three separate parties are celebrating birthdays in a small, out-of-the-way place, it's probably pretty spectacular.  Congratulations to K's Kitchen, makers of the Volcano Roll (the best maki in San Francisco), and home of the staff which, if not always efficient, is always willing to make it up to you with free food. 

Sonoma's Okay, I Guess

"I was swimming in the pool looking up at the redwoods," reports my father when he calls to tell me how his birthday trip is going.  My mother had sent him on a golf weekend earlier in the summer (after thirty years in the midwest my dad finally turned into that guy), but the birthday ends in a zero so he's stringing it out a bit.  He'd wanted to go on a wine tasting tour ever since I moved to Northern California, but Mom and I always said we'd prefer watching wallpaper peel.  So I offered to give him one for his birthday, and Mom reluctantly agreed to go along since he'd already had one major event without her and at least it didn't involve golf. 

I suggested Frog's Leap Winery, on the sound principle that I knew nothing about wine so an organic, sustainable place couldn't be too bad.  They found the Applewood Inn in the Russian River valley to stay in.  Thus, while I waited tensely in the blazing sun to be in the front row at the free Third Eye Blind concert in San Jose, only to find that the thousands of people who arrived hours later spent the whole show crushing me into the barricade so that my ribcage broke out in hives, my parents were sipping white wine and hearing about environmentally friendly vine production, and eating what both of them kept describing as the "best" of whatever it is they'd had, ever ("the best lamb chop" "the best pancake").  Not that I begrudge them, since they claim to like my company enough to take me along most places, including a good portion of their thirtieth anniversary trip.  But Stephen Jenkins?  Kind of a preening jerk.  Go to a show at which you can sit down. 

Here are some photos taken by my father at the two locations.

The kitchen and cellars at Frog's Leap:

 
 

 

The gardens and the aforementioned pool at Applewood Inn:

 

 

The Holy Grail

It's not just that Zingerman's is chock full of the best food, from their own breads and cheeses to $150 imported balsamic vinegar (yes, it exists).  The most amazing thing about the deli is that clearly its application process requires you to bring documentation that you are among the ten most pleasant, patient people on earth, otherwise you won't be hired.  If, in the midst of the utter chaos of a line around the block trying to reach the sandwiches, and tributaries breaking through the floodwaters trying to get to the cheese counter and the bread stand, you can treat every customer as if she were the only person in the shop, you are a Zingerman's employee.  The one knock on its family of stores is that it worships the pig, and very few of its products are kosher.  The Roadhouse does serve kosher, hand-dipped corndogs that are next on my list of things to try in Ann Arbor. 

Items at or from Zingerman's that are highly recommended, thus far:

Chocolate chunk sourdough bread
Pumpernickel (try it with the whitefish salad)
Gelato (the dulce de leche rivals the texture of Birite ice cream, and the dark chocolate is better than Ciao Bella)
Piquillo pimento peppers 
any kind of pastry, also brownies 
Papa Louie claims that the corned beef rivals that of Shapiro's, previous holder of the world's best deli title

If you can't make it to Michigan, the mail order catalogue is a decent substitute. 

Zazie and Medjool Do The Right Thing

Business interest group the Golden Gate Restaurant Association is suing the city over its having the effrontery to expect employers to provide employees with health care.  FWV is extremely happy to learn that two eateries, including one of our all-time favorites, have decided instead to join the government's side in the suit, arguing that the law is positive, necessary, and not an undue burden.  Now we'll be forced to have brunch at Zazie to reward them.