Fair Weather Vegan

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. 

How Could I Forget The Soup?

Before I had one too many clever ideas about yesterday's post, I was going to lead with a warning to anyone who took liquid Benadryl as a child.  Most children's medicines taste awful, but Benadryl was in a class by itself, which no fake fruit flavoring could conceal. If they would have bothered with such a thing.  Which they clearly didn't.  It made you long for the days when they just gave everyone quinine. If you were one of those children, and you see that Bistro 501's soup of the day is  chilled almond and apricot, run in the other direction.  The stuff is like Proust's madeleine.  Poor Papa Louie, whom my mother calls The Man With The Cast Iron Stomach and who has no such unhappy associations with medicine, was the one who ordered it and pretty much thought it was the worst soup he'd ever tasted.  No wonder they make cyanide from apricot derivatives. 

Touring Lafayette's Gourmet Corridor With The Elderly

[Note- edited several times at the behest of my family, although I did fight for the literary quality of the thing to very little avail.] 

There are Lafayette fixtures and Lafayette fixtures.  I mean, I've lived in or visited the area for 27 years and never been inside the Triple X (perhaps because I've never shaken the belief I'll be arrested going in, despite the fact that it's a burger joint).  But I'm a regular on the street that contains both Kokoro and Bistro 501, even if like most locals I fear that Crazy Tony of Kokoro is going to throw me out of his place on some pretext or other.  Most vegetarians are not big fans of traditional French food, because there's nothing for them to eat.  Bistro 501 always at least has a veggie version of its cassoulet.  But its lunch menu, is, surprisingly, not French at all.  They serve croques monsieur and madame and a daily quiche, and that's about it.  There are a large number of vegetarian options from salads to eggplant and portabello sandwiches to a thai pasta made with lemongrass and coconut milk.   

Conversation In The Valentina Kitchen, Part Two

Waiter: Oh my god, it's that blogger.   
Chef: How do you know it's the same one? 
Waiter: I just heard her telling the old guy not to order something with salmon and asparagus.  It's got to be her. 
Chef: Why would she be here again, anyway, she doesn't even like us. 
Waiter: And she had to be here on a night there's a party of twenty.  Look, she's taking an aspirin. 
Chef: She doesn't like my food, she can wear it home.
[Waiter brings back plates into the kitchen]
Chef: What happened to the wild boar bolognese?
Waiter: It was there, and now it's not there. 
Chef: Amazing.  I've done it again.  Now close the place before another party of twenty comes in. 

Leftovers Are For *After* The Meal

The West Portal branch of Roti is in many ways a pleasant surprise.  It's a pretty interior, with a menu that doesn't simply mimic every other North Indian restaurant.  If all the samosas I'd been served had a distinct filling like theirs and not a mealy mess I wouldn't be so down on the genre.  Korma is creamy and sweet as it should be, and the breads are excellent.  The only problem was that the paneer that accompanied my palak was not in its first bloom of youth.  Although Roti boasts of making its own, homemade paneer should be softer than its store-bought counterpart, not tough and rubbery. 

It's not just Roti, however, but Indian restaurants across the bay which are in deep trouble if more locals try the Cowgirl Creamery's latest offering.  It's officially called paneer, but its true sobriquet is You Have Never Tasted Anything Like This In Your Life.  Another in the Cowgirl's line of spreadable cheeses, it is almost indescribably delicious, with a smooth yet firm start and a pure cream finish.  I don't know if it's going to be a perminent offering or something seasonal, but it should make plenty of restauranteurs nervous. 

Slanted Door As Advertized

Considered one of the gems of San Francisco dining (perhaps not on the same level as MIchael Mina or the Zuni Cafe), this Vietnamese fusion restaurant is the only fancy sit-down experience in the Ferry Building.  If you like intimate settings with unobtrusive staff, you will probably be surprised that it has neither, at least at lunch.  Despite an open and airy room on the water which would seem like an oasis, the restaurant is loud and crowded.  The staff also has been trained for the robust tourist trade. You are encouraged to run your order by them for judgment on its appropriateness.  Although this is somewhat helpful given that all dishes are family style and it's not always easy to judge when you've ordered enough, the wait staff is also supposed to check for 'balance' among the dishes, and that's something that can make the diners feel patronized.  Our server was very pleasant apart from following the rules on that score (I know how to order for my dietary restrictions, thank you). 

Hot and crispy imperial rolls were a good veggie starter, with a lettuce leaf wrapped around to provide contrast and structural integrity.  The Slanted Door serves vegetables as distinct plates and sweet white corn with green onions and diced chanterelles was the highlight of the meal.  My father and I found the catfish artfully prepared in a clay pot with hints of ginger, although my mother found the chiles a bit overwhelming and was also surprised that the catfish had been prepared like any other fish, being used to restaurants trying to hide its 'catfishiness.'  Watch out for bones in this dish, and watch out also for being pushed to order rice, which is extra.  The one entree that rivaled average take-out fare was the chicken stir-fry noodles, which I thought were undercooked and supplemented with chewy chicken and not enough of the other ingredients. 

In terms of portion sizes, don't eat a starter on your own (I had almost all the rolls because my parents shared a shrimp-and-pork crepe) before attempting the rest of the meal.  None of us had room for dessert, but my father has been waiting eagerly for four years since his last Vietnamese coffee and I convinced him to order it iced.  Heaven for sweet bean lovers, as it is filtered right at the table and then poured over sweetened condensed milk (Paddington's favorite, I believe).  I kept sneaking the glass away for another sip.  The perfect end for a meal that pretty much lived up to expectations.  And of course it has the perfect location to tempt you afterward with more culinary treats. 

Jeanty At Jack's Closes, Moonbean's Forced Out

The best steak in the city and its cozy, classy environs are gone.  Even worse is the news that Moonbean's was underbid for its iconic spot between the Stanford libraries.  By Coupa, of all cafes, which at best serves decent (powdered) chai.  Even though Moonbean's signature chai mocha was just Oregon chai mixed with chocolate milk, I have honestly thought on many occasions that if I had to die drinking something, that would be it.  I have also been trying to find the supplier of their awesome spinach and cheese empanadas, but no definitive answer yet.  Last word is that they are trying to find a new campus location.  Keep your fingers crossed. 

Burma Superstar: Now With Less Singing

A return trip to the Inner Richmond standard found the vegetarian fare uninspiring.  We did arrive only five minutes before closing so I appreciate the staff's willingness to seat and feed us, but even if our meals had been sitting out waiting to be served, as I'm sure they were, that's no excuse for my bland, soft tofu in nondescript brown sauce and undercooked mass of watercress. My companion's noodles looked better but were such a small portion for the price that she ate a bit of my tofu and a good half of the cress (and welcome to it, I might add).  The meal's only upside was the order of vegetarian samusas, also overpriced, but actually better than their Indian counterparts: thinner and crisper, rather than overwhelming the eater in mealy potato.  If you are a full time vegetarian, however, Burma Superstar may not be the best value for you, as the only dish I've had there that was more filling involved chicken. 

On the way back to the bus stop my sweet tooth led me to Toy Boat dessert cafe, a family-operated concern filled with geek brick-a-brack that seems to be primarily a local ice cream shop serving the Double Rainbow brand and also milkshakes and floats.  My cupcake mission beckoned, however, and I sampled a devil's food cupcake with vanilla icing.  My first, pleasant surprise was that the icing was substantial and cream cheese-y rather than that airy nonsense you often get.  The cake was fine if a bit stale.  But the icing did eventually have a slightly chemical aftertaste.  All-in-all, a one fifty cupcake at a two twenty-five price.