Picture this -- reading, tasting, looking around

Dinner with the pirate chef

2011-05-28T11:43:00.000-07:00

Lafitte
Pier 5, The Embarcadero
San Francisco

Chef Russell Jackson invites adventurous diners to approach the plank, a six-seat bar at the edge of Lafitte's open kitchen. There he seems to compose dishes on the fly, combining disparate ingredients that sometimes meld, sometimes shout, but always excite.

Lafitte, at Pier 5 on the Embaracadaro, opened a little more than a year ago. Its market-driven menu changes daily and harks back to Chef Jackson's days as the Dissident Chef at the helm of SubCulture Dining, an underground supper club. Subscribers received passwords and were instructed to call a phone number to learn the secret location of each night's meal.

As we perused Lafitte's intriguing cocktail menu, the chef claimed to have no idea what he was about to set before us. "You're early," he commented, not at all fazed. He chortled as he rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out mostly unidentifiable bagged foodstuffs.

My drink, the Mohawk, smoothly blended sweetness and a hint of spice with Russell's Reserve bourbon and a generous twist of lemon. The chef was carefully carving slices of hard cheese, which he combined in a bag with sprigs of fresh thyme and olive oil and set to simmering in sous vide.

The first plate started things off with a flourish: a rosy chunk of pate de fois gras, a spoonful of house-made applesauce, crystalline cava jelly, Chinese fleur de sel, and Italian orange oil drizzled over all. A lively bundle of flavors, but they played nicely with each other, and the fois gras was superb.

As I watched Jackson compose the next course, all I could think was, "How is that going to work?" A thin slice of pure white Iberian lardo went down next to a similar portion of compressed cucumber, adorned with pickled lychee, crushed hazelnuts, extra-virgin olive oil, and slivered Italian prunes. It was smooth, chewy and crunchy; rich, nutty, tart and fruity. Each bite held your interest, and how often can you say that about a salad?

"Spicy time!" the chef announced, presenting grilled padrone peppers, quail, and cherries resting on a wash of pepper jelly and spiked with fresh marjoram. The first-of-the-season cherries were meltingly soft from the grill and moderated the heat of the padrones. Jackson described finding the unusually large peppers in the farmers' market and surmised that a week of warm weather had given them extra bite.

The sun went down and the Bay Bridge lit up, framed by large windows set in bare concrete walls. We watched Jackson sampling ingredients as he plated, smiling broadly. Once he tasted, frowned, then pitched that bag in the trash. "Candied fennel. Didn't work out."

A heavenly, lemony scent wafted from a bowl of fresh pasta, twisted tubes topped with shreds of braised rabbit, peas, and dollops of ricotta that had been soured with Meyer lemon juice and dressed with the reserved whey. I was so enraptured that I didn't put my fork down 'til the big bowl was empty (thus, no picture!).

Next came... hmmm. Pork with anchovies? Intensely meaty Iberican pork tenderloin held its own against the salty briny flavor, along with onions, capers, and radishes washed in a poussin demi-glace. "A marriage made in heaven," Jackson declared. "Surf and turf." I wasn't so certain; it made me think of those couples whose relationships seem to consist mostly of high volume and drama. A little too much excitement for my tastes.

Jackson handed us porcelain spoons, each holding a smooth brown sphere. "Chocolate fois gras salty ball," he intoned, gravely advising me to eat it in one bite. He cackled at my reaction when the ball popped like a balloon in my mouth, spilling liquid salty chocolate richness.

The cheese finally re-appeared. It was Manchego, and the warm bath hadn't softened it at all, just infused it with herbal flavors, with the added touch of a cherry reduction.

Our final course was startling: a gin cocktail and a Meyer lemon souffle. The Corpse Reviver, despite its name, was a softly fruity, floral drink. I admit a bias against souffles that don't contain chocolate, but this one was perfectly textured, pure lemon sweetness.

It was a roller coaster of a meal, but hugely enjoyable, and a fascinating glimpse of an original chef in his element.

Cuisine Contra + PinkLine Project = Valentine fun

2011-02-17T13:46:00.000-08:00

Cuisine Contra
Mexican Cultural Center
Washington, DC

Valentine's Day has always left me cold. Too many expectations, too much drama. It's the worst night of the year to go out for dinner. (OK, maybe New Year's Eve is worse.) Diners in search of a romantic evening face crowds and overpriced prix-fixe menus.

Cuisine Contra's Valentine event was the perfect antidote to stale custom and saccharine sentiment. Grown-up but not fuddy-duddy. Zesty but not outré.

You have an idea that you're going to an interesting event when you're asked to submit, along with your payment, a story of a time that you tried to seduce someone. (If the stories were ever made public, it occurred late in the evening, after I left the event.)

We were in good hands when it came to the food. Top Chef contestant Mike Isabella, formerly of Zaytinya, was trying out dishes for his new restaurant, Graffiato, set to open this spring in Penn Quarter.

We sampled a homey pulled-chicken dish, cheesy grits, garlicky shrimp and a light creamy pasta. A charcuterie platter held thin slices of an intriguingly spiced meat that looked deceptively like bologna. A server claimed that the delicious beet salad contained chocolate; as in a Spanish mole sauce, the flavor was imperceptable. The sole concession to Valentine tradition, tiny cups of chocolate-hazelnut mousse, was sumptuous.

I lingered in the solarium/cafe, drawn by the cocktails made from St. Germain elderflower liquor and sparkling wine. There was a sleek and simple DIY photo booth, and books of romantic and erotic poetry on every table. When was the last time you went to a party where guests actually read aloud?

Cuisine Contra is part of the Pink Line Project, which describes itself as "a catalyst for the culturally curious" and a booster for the local arts scene.

The woman in the flowered skirt (chicken wire covered with paper flowers) was acting as Cupid. If you spotted an interesting stranger, she would deliver a message from you, along with a flower. If the targeted stranger was intrigued, s/he could meet the sender by searching for the person with a matching flower.

Speakers spark

2011-02-08T13:54:00.000-08:00

What can you say in five minutes, and how would you say it?

Five minutes, 20 slides. That’s the premise of Ignite DC, a high-energy gathering of people with ideas and the courage to put them out in front of 300+ strangers

Ignite DC #6, held last week, had the flavor of a Tweetup and the velocity of a speed-dating event. Sixteen speakers each had 20 slides, which advanced automatically every 15 seconds.

Who were the speakers? Ignite’s Web site promised “artists, technologists, thinkers and personalities.” I heard from a marketing student and a life coach, a DJ and a policy analyst, an artist and a hacker, among others.

The evening’s organizers -- DC entrepreneur Jared Goralnick and public relations strategist and local blogging guru Geoff Livingston – kept the program moving. None of the 16 speakers went over their time, I noticed with admiration. Each presentation was focused, well paced and delivered with verve.

If your time is brief, an introduction with a catchy title creates a flurry of interest right at the start. Here are some of my favorites from the event:

- Why Jack Bauer Needs a Nap: He’d make better decisions if he could get out from under that 24-hour stress, which must be wreaking havoc on his mind and body. Life coach Alison Elissa made her point with humor and offered a gentle reminder to all.

- Heather Coleman titled her presentation simply “Help!” then grabbed our attention with her first sentence: “If you saw a naked woman running down the road, would you stop your car?” Any snickering stopped as she revealed that she had been that woman, in the grip of severe postpartum psychosis. Tragedy was averted only by a traffic jam and some helpful strangers.

- I Suffer from… FOMO: Right away, the listener wonders, what is FOMO? Should I be worried? FOMO is Fear Of Missing Out, Shana Glickfield opined in a cheerfully self-deprecating sketch. Glickfield, an online communications consultant, described overbooking herself, spending too much money, and stressing out friends and relatives in an attempt to avoid what she described as “the worst thing a person with FOMO can hear: `You should have been there!’”

Glickfield ended the program with laughter and a light-hearted reminder to look away from the screen once in a while, pay attention to the live world around you.

2941 for $20.11

2011-01-26T11:25:00.000-08:00

2941
Falls Church, Va.

There's a fair amount of griping in the blogosphere about DC's annual Restaurant Week: the menus are uninspired, the crowds are annoying, the service is poor, the prices aren't that great. But I don't think anyone left 2941 dissatisfied last week, judging from the meal I enjoyed and the full house at a weekday lunch.

The chestnut velouté was the perfect starter on a bitterly cold day. Rich and slightly sweet, it could have been dessert, but for its garnish of savory sauteed mushrooms. Hidden beneath the mushrooms was "Armagnac custard," another sweetish note, a spoon-sized flan.

The other appetizer on the three-course set menu ($20.11 during Restaurant Week) was a colorful paté de compagne studded with chopped pistachios. My dining companion left no trace of it behind.

I wavered between the three entree choices. I rarely turn down scallops, and I almost ordered the lemon risotto just to see how it incorporated the bizarre citrus fruit called Buddha's hand. But in the end I chose a quintessential winter dish: quail wrapped in bacon, served with kale and white beans. It was a rich and comforting delight.

If I could have asked for seconds, I would have done so for the dessert. I nearly headed straight for the chocolate dacquoise, thinking that an Earl Grey pot de cremé might be too much of that distinctive bergamot flavor. But this dessert was sublime. I alternated bites of the perfectly smooth custard with the delicious walnut brioche bostock, like an airy madeleine.

The service was leisurely -- OK, it was slow. But I was savoring the last of my dessert, lingering with good friends over coffee, so you won't hear any complaints from me.

Beguiling Zola

2010-12-29T18:42:00.000-08:00

Zola

800 F Street NW
Washington, DC

Perhaps it was Zola's location next door to the International Spy Museum, "where nothing is what it seems." Or maybe I was a little light-headed, as it was lunch time and I had not yet eaten that day. Somehow, I had no idea what I was actually ordering at Zola, yet my meal turned out remarkably well.

Perhaps chef Bryan Moscatello wants Zola diners to be caught off guard. Zola's menu underwent a "rejuvenation" in November, resulting in a prix-fixe evening menu, served in the Chef's Tasting Room, and an a la carte menu for the Bar Room, an "innovative bold American mix of casual and heartier fare." I was seated in the bar, an elegant, comfortable space with floor-to-ceiling windows.

When I chose the Baby Green appetizer, I was expecting a layered pastry structure filled with vegetables. The menu described the dish as "candied endive-pecan strudel, roast shallots, pomegranate vinaigrette." What I received was a salad, and I almost told the waiter that he'd made a mistake. But then I looked closer.

The "strudel" was actually a novel take on a crouton, nutty rich bundles of phyllo with a slightly sweet filling. The overall color of the salad was unfortunately brownish gray, rather like gravy, due to the thick dressing, but the roasted-shallot flavor was very tasty. Pomegranate seeds added welcome color and crunch, so important in a winter salad.

There was something for every taste in the bread basket. The pumpkin bread was flavorful but undistinguished. I preferred the chewy olive rolls and the spicy paper-thin seeded flatbread. (The little pyramid in the picture is butter, flavored with pink salt.)

As I ordered my entree, I managed to overlook both the term "orata" and the menu heading that clearly stated "fish and meat." All that registered was "sunchoke tortellini, lemon sabayon, spinach garlic chips," and I was looking for a plate of pasta. The tortellini did turn out to be the highlight of the dish, but I also enjoyed the nicely cooked fish and its rich and buttery broth, which was delicious with the spinach.

When the dessert menu appeared, I was tempted to order "peanut butter and jelly daggers," described as "mini air baguettes filled with peanut butter mousse and house made jam." Curious! Alas, I couldn't do any dessert justice that day.

The cocktail menu was alluring, too, featuring locally produced mixers such as almond-based orgeat syrup and cinnamon-infused Grenadine.

I plan to return some evening and investigate both menus further.

CSA week 8.5: Okra

2010-08-08T15:01:00.000-07:00

Oh, my. It's fuzzy.

That was my reaction when I stuck my hand in the bag I'd brought home from the farmers' market. What had possessed me, to buy a bag of damp, soft, furry vegetables? I grew up in Ohio, for cryin' out loud; what do I know about okra?

But this recipe for Indian-spiced okra was calling. Specifically, it was saying, "Your mother is coming tomorrow for a week-long stay, and she doesn't want to eat okra, although she might fib and say she doesn't mind."

I made two changes to the recipe. I didn't have jalopenos, so I used two small banana peppers. I also added a white Asian eggplant that I forgot to put on the grill earlier in the week.

More forgetfulness: I didn't realize that half of the onion was supposed to be fried 'til crispy and reserved to garnish the top. I left the browned onions in the pan; added the paste made of pureed onions, garlic, peppers and spices; then put in the okra and eggplant with some water to cook for 10 minutes.

At this point, I noticed that there was no picture accompanying the recipe. The dish had a nice lemony, spicy aroma, but it looked rather muddy, despite the bright green okra. I kept waiting for okra's notorious slimy side to appear.

My final verdict: not bad. The okra was lemony and tender, not slimy (although I could see it heading that way if I'd cooked it any longer). The spice balance wasn't quite right -- I was rushing to get dinner on the table -- and it needed the zing that jalopenos would have provided.

I'll give okra another chance, but probably not with this dish.

CSA week 7: Succotash

2010-08-03T19:21:00.001-07:00

There wasn't much cooking going on this week, as I cleaned out my fridge in the aftermath of a multi-day power outage.

After cooking dinner for friends one night, I had several ears of corn left over. This made me think of a delicious succotash I had once, made with fresh lima beans.

Limas can be pretty starchy, and I don't think much of them when they've been frozen. The fresh beans are a different matter. I sauteed chopped onion in olive oil, then added lightly steamed lima beans, minced garlic, the corn, and some farmstand tomatoes.

I modeled my succotash on this recipe from Epicurous. Topping the vegetables with slivered fresh basil was a nice touch. It made for a fresh-tasting side dish with grilled chicken and shrimp.

Not-so-fun fact: raw lima beans can be toxic! Lima beans are one of many plants that protect themselves from herbivores by storing a naturally occurring form of cyanide. Cooking the bean destroys the toxin.

Mussel Bar conquers Bethesda

2010-07-30T17:56:00.000-07:00

Mussel Bar
Bethesda, Md.

The long-awaited Mussel Bar in Bethesda, Chef Robert Wiedmaier's latest venture, has been hopping from the start. A few weeks after opening, at 7 pm on a Friday night, there was an hour-long wait for a four-top, and they're not taking reservations.

Last Thursday at noon, however, there was no wait for a table. The gastropub's decor is dark and comfortable, with simple wooden booths, black and white photographs on the walls, and a sculptural metal light fixture adorned with beer bottles.

I was surprised to see Chef Wiedmaier himself -- at a weekday lunch service? -- intently surveying the dining room, occasionally stopping a waiter to examine a plate or alter his serving technique.

I don't normally drink beer at lunch, but I couldn't resist a citrusy, spicy Blanche de Bruxelles Belgian wheat beer. Just reading the Mussel Bar's beer menu is entertaining: Delirium Tremens, Gouden Carolus Hopsinjoor, Ommegang Hennepin, Corsendonk Agnus Dei, Allagash Curieux, Unibroue La Terrible.

The mussels were so fresh, sweet and briny that I ate more than I intended. The "classic" broth of roasted garlic, shallots and sauvignon blanc was worthy of sopping with bread or frites.

The frites were good, not great. They arrived wrapped in a paper cone, in the same specialized metal server that I remembered from Brasserie Beck. There were holders for three types of mayonnaise for dipping, but our server contained only one. (By the time I noticed this, there were too few frites left to make it worth mentioning.)

The most eye-opening dish was this salad of roasted beets with grapefruit, cumin-spiced yogurt, preserved lemon and golden raisins. The mingling of earthy, tart and sweet flavors was incredible, first bite to last.

I'd happily return to have that salad all to myself and try another Belgian witbeer. I'd also have another go at the mussels; imagine red Indonesian curry with peanut essence, or grilled pineapple with sweet chili garlic. The pizzas coming out of the wood-fired oven also looked like fitting accompaniment to a good beer.

CSA week 6: Rainbow chard

2010-07-24T16:00:00.003-07:00

Photo by Strata R. Chalup, My Bay Area Garden

A refrigerator drawer full of vegetables, and what did I do? Bought some more!

I was shopping at MOM'S Organic Market for a few things I can't find anywhere else, and I was attracted by some beautiful rainbow chard. It looked so bright and fresh that I picked it up, even though I wasn't sure what I'd do with it.

I turned to Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, a great resource for simple, appealing recipes. There was a dish of braised chard with cilantro, and I followed its lead, even though I had no cilantro. I liked that that the recipe called for dicing and slow-cooking the colorful stems along with the sturdy leaves. Some little onions and garlic from the CSA went in the pot too, along with... paprika? Hmm.

After 45 minutes on low heat, the stems were tender and the greens had cooked down yet still had some texture. "The chard should be silky and very fragrant," Madison says. Not sure I quite achieved that, but it was hearty and tasty with some steamed new potatoes.

I learned that chard is a type of beet, chosen for its leafiness rather than its ability to grow tasty roots. Chard provides lots of vitamin A as well as calcium, iron, magnesium, phosphorus and potassium.

Next time, I think I'd try wilting the greens after sauteing the stems in olive oil. Maybe that would preserve some of the stems' brilliant color.

CSA week 5: Purslane

2010-07-06T13:40:00.001-07:00

For our holiday weekend barbeque, I wanted to feature summer vegetables alongside the grilled chicken, and I was determined to find a way to use two weeks' worth of purslane.

I've decided that Wikipedia is not a great source for culinary inspiration. Here I learned that purslane is "considered a weed in the US" and is known for its "musilaginous" quality, as a thickener for soups and stews.

On the positive side, however, it has more omega-3 fatty acids than any other green leafy vegetable, and it's a good source of vitamins A, C, E, as well as iron, calcium and potassium. The raw leaves taste like watercress, but less peppery and more lemony.

This recipe for purslane-potato salad suited my menu, and allowed me to use Yukon Gold potatoes and cucumber from this week's CSA share. I prefer vinaigrette to mayonnaise-based potato salads, and a light dressing of olive oil and lemon juice complemented the purslane nicely.

This summer vegetable gratin did a lot to raise the profile of zucchini in my house. (A teenage visitor who reportedly does not like cooked tomatoes ate two large helpings.)

Baked zucchini can turn into soupy glop, but this recipe called for salting and draining the sliced tomatoes and zucchini before assembling the dish. The result was juicy, but not watery.

There's a layer of caramelized onion between the zucchini and tomatoes, which really enriched the flavor. It's topped with Parmesan bread crumbs, and some chopped fresh basil added after baking.

CSA week 4: Fava beans

2010-06-30T20:59:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday, and that means it's time to clear out the produce drawer before the next CSA share arrives. Fava beans, garlic scapes, spring onions, chard...

Preparing the fava beans was an interesting process. I was fascinated by the fuzzy white inner lining of the pods: nature's perfect packing material, and it's compostable!

I may have boiled the beans a little too long; removing the outer husk squished some of the beans and split others in half. The beans had a bright, fresh flavor that was sweet like garden peas, only stronger. (Later, I learned that fava beans actually belong to the pea family.)

My smallish bunch of young chard looked a little wobegone and wilted, but I went ahead and sliced it, separating the leaves and stems. I chopped up garlic scapes and sauteed them in olive oil with the chard stems, then added the chard leaves, onions, and a couple of shakes of crushed red pepper.

The chard smelled great. The greens cooked down quite a bit, but adding the beans made a fairly substantial plate, with an ear of corn on the side. Next time, I'd skip the onion; I preferred the flavor of the garlic with the chard.

Fava beans -- also called broad beans, windsor beans, horse beans and pigeon beans -- are a good source of fiber, protein (1 cup = 12g), and folate.

While learning about fava beans, I stumbled upon Chef In You, a blog filled with vegetarian recipes and lovely pictures of fava beans in all the stages of shelling and cooking.

Spring Poste

2010-06-28T15:42:00.000-07:00

Poste
555 8th St NW @ Hotel Monaco
Washington, DC

Chef Rob Weland of Poste urges visitors to "eat simply and elegantly," and on a recent weeknight visit we did just that. The simplicity of the meal lay in the freshness of its seasonal ingredients. I wouldn't call these dishes simple, though.

My first course was a chilled soup of English peas and nettles, topped with sheep's milk yogurt "sorbet" and tiny crispy lardo croutons. Anyone who thinks peas are bland would be startled by the intense flavors of this soup. It was springtime in a spoon.

I hesitated to order rabbit -- for some reason, I think of this ingredient, of any braised meat, as cold-weather fare. But I was intrigued by the accompaniments, and the result was a happy combination.

The rabbit was braised in red wine and served with caramelized fennel, poppy-seed tagliatelle, and hen-of-the-woods mushrooms. The fennel was a revelation, and the poppy seed was a striking counterpoint to the rabbit. The crispy roasted mushrooms were practically addictive.

I took tiny bites of everything on my plate, trying to make it last longer. I also enjoyed a taste of the buttery asparagus carbonara, with white and green asparagus and lightly charred ramps.

Chef Weland offers farm-market dinners on Thursdays through the summer and fall. Guests accompany Weland to the Freshfarm Market in Penn Quarter and select ingredients for that night's five-course tasting menu. They might also tour the restaurant's on-site organic garden.

Sounds like a good excuse to check out a new farmers' market. Or maybe I'll get a group of friends together for the Poste Roast, a family-style meal served in the garden and highlighting meat and fish spit-roasted over an open fire.

CSA week 3: Escarole

2010-06-28T11:29:00.000-07:00

I was starting from scratch with escarole: a large leafy head, and no idea how to prepare it.

Escarole looks like romaine, but it's a type of endive, broad-leafed and a little bitter. I knew I wanted to cook it, finding it too sharp as a raw salad.

My mom recalled a Rachel Ray recipe for escarole with lemon bread crumbs. I've never watched Ray's TV show or tried any of her recipes. But this recipe's combination of lemon and olive oil, with a touch of honey to "mellow" the greens, sounded intriguing.

I sliced the escarole into ribbons and wilted it in a large skillet, with olive oil, salt and freshly ground pepper. Next I simmered the greens for just a few minutes in chicken broth and a touch of honey. (I used much less broth than the recipe called for, noting several reviews that deemed the dish too soupy.)

The cooked greens are topped with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a mixture of butter-browned bread crumbs, lemon zest, and minced spring onions (also from my CSA share).

The flavors of honey and lemon blunted the bitterness of the greens and made for a great combination. I was a little disappointed that my big pan of escarole cooked down to a shallow soup bowl. Here's hoping for more escarole this week!

CSA weeks 1 & 2: Lamb's-quarters

2010-06-17T20:50:00.000-07:00

For the first time in several years, our family is staying in the DC area for the summer, and I'm participating in community sponsored agriculture -- a CSA. For a flat fee at the beginning of the summer, I get a weekly share of the farm's harvest, a grocery bag full of fresh vegetables, eggs and fruit.

I like that I know where my vegetables were grown (on Allan Balliett's farm, near Shepherdstown, WV), that they are grown biodynamically, and that they were harvested the same day I receive them.

Fresh & Local CSA's Web site promises "over 150 varieties of vegetables, fruits and herbs" in the course of the season, but I was still surprised by the quantity and diversity in the market bag when it was all spread out before m.

There were spring onions and shallots, fava beans, purslane, lamb's-quarters, chard, escarole, heirloom lettuce (Simpson), mixed baby greens, and basil. What to do with this bounty?

I had to go online and find images to identify the purslane and lamb's-quarters. I learned that lamb's-quarters is also known as pigweed, dungweed, or goosefoot. This did not immediately inspire me to start cooking.

Some online sources recommend using tender young lamb's-quarters in salads. I tasted a raw leaf and found it weedy and unappealing. It had a flavor like the smell of a fresh-cut lawn.

Several recipes treated lamb's-quarters like spinach. I took spring onion and garlic scapes from the market bag, minced them and sauteed them in olive oil. I found a yellow bell pepper in the fridge that needed to be cooked, so I diced some of that and tossed it in the pan, mostly for the color contrast.

The lamb's quarters took a little longer to wilt in the pan than spinach would, and it didn't cook down quite as much. I served it with some leftover grilled chicken breast and steamed rice. Cooking mellowed the greens nicely.

According to my favorite veggie cookbook -- "Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone," by Deborah Madison -- lamb's-quarters is an excellent source of beta carotene and antioxidant vitamins C & E. I would continue to use it as an occasional alternative to spinach.

Sips & small plates @ Sei

2010-04-07T12:15:00.000-07:00

Sei
444 7th Street NW
Washington, DC

Sei was glowing and glamorous on a cold winter night. The decor is all warm and creamy whites, with touches of red. Candlelight looked especially good on this space.

Curiosity made me order a cocktail called Hello Kitty: vanilla vodka, St. Germain elderflower liquor, muddled lemon and orange, and hibiscus "bubbles." The list of ingredients sounds overly perfumed, but the drink was unusual and not too sweet. Another time, I would try the Japanese whiskey sour made with five-spice-infused syrup.

Several of the more attention-getting items on the menu were not available that night, probably because the city was still digging out from Snowmagedden 2010. I wanted to try the foie gras sushi with daikon, teriyaki berry glaze, and yuzu; the sea-bass sliders with apricot-chili glaze and yuzu slaw; and a few of the more unusual sushi rolls, but as I named each one, the waiter shook his head, and it became almost a joke between us.

We started with toro tartar (sic), with wasabi guacamole, salmon roe, and lemon soy espuma. It turned out to be something like a briny Mexican seven layer dip, scooped with crispy wontons.

I ordered pork buns expecting to get the fluffy white steamed type, but I was happy with a plate of flaky pastries, stuffed with richly flavored meat. The Kobe beef sliders with tomato jam and tempura onion rings were good, but not too far from what you might get at an upscale happy hour.

The "snow white roll" -- eel, avocado, roasted apple, sweet soy and sansho (Szechuan pepper) -- had no discernible apple flavor, just a mild sweetness that suited the eel. Other dishes -- a hand roll made from a wasabi crepe and duck confit -- and the sauteed shrimp were satisfying but not distinctive.

I would go to Sei again if I was looking for an unusual cocktail and some interesting tapas, Asian style. It was a good setting for a sophisticated, pre-theater dinner date.

Women in science: Dorothy Crowfoot Hodgkin

2010-03-24T10:30:00.000-07:00

Dorothy Mary Crowfoot Hodgkin with insulin model.
About.com: Chemistry

Dorothy Crowfoot Hodgkin (1910-1994) was a founder of protein crystallography.

Hodgkin and her mentor, J.D. Bernal, were the first to successfully apply X-ray diffraction to biological crystals. She identified the structures of cholesterol, lactoglobulin, ferritin, tobacco mosaic virus, penicillin, and vitamin B-12. She also described the structure of insulin in 1969, a problem on which she worked for 34 years.

Hodgkin received the Nobel Prize in chemistry in 1964 for her work on vitamin B-12. Her biography on this Nobel Prize Web site notes, "By choosing projects others considered impossible, she helped to establish one of the characteristic features of contemporary science: the use of molecular structure to explain biological function."

This post was created to mark the second annual Ada Lovelace Day, an international day of blogging to celebrate the achievements of women in technology and science. Read more about Ada Lovelace Day and women in science here.

Gung Hay Fat Choy!

2010-02-14T16:32:00.000-08:00

Tony Lin's Restaurant
12015 Rockville Pike
Rockville, Md.

Some good friends invited us to a celebration of Chinese New Year this weekend, welcoming the Year of the Tiger. We met at Tony Lin's Restaurant in Rockville.

Here is my favorite of the nine courses: lobster with ginger and scallion. It was a little heavy on the ginger, but that didn't stop my from eating my share (and then some).

I'd never seen this type of seafood soup before. At first, we thought we were getting cups of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows! It was a clear, slightly thickened broth, with diced carrot, peas and seafood bits under a fluffy layer of cooked egg whites.

This plate of "cold appetizers" (room temperature, really) included beef that tasted of five-spice powder, various vegetables, and something that may have been spiced tendon. (Even our hosts weren't sure.)

Platters of black pepper steak, steamed whole fish, and Peking duck were in nearly constant motion from the moment they landed on the center turntable. The duck had plenty of properly crispy, burnished skin. The beef had an interesting sweetish charcoal flavor, which one diner compared to the tasty char on the outside of a campfire-toasted marshmallow.

"Chef's bean curd" wasn't the most photogenic dish, but it was satisfying. The tofu was delicately fried, light inside and not too spongy. It went well with the Chinese broccoli underneath and the rich chunks of crabmeat in white sauce.

Two more dishes, meaty Young Chow fried rice and an assortment of stir-fried vegetables, completed the savory courses.

With a fresh fruit platter came baked sesame buns filled with red bean paste and this "eight treasure rice," a traditional New Year's dish. It is made from glutinous rice steamed and mixed with lard, sugar, and eight kinds of fruits or nuts. To this Western-oriented palate, it was only slightly sweet.

Tony Lin's has two menus, one of which is labeled "authentic Chinese." I spotted dishes described as "smelt with peanuts," "pork tripe in red hot sauce," "spicy sliced conch," and "preserved turnip with egg." There's certainly plenty to explore here.

Spaghetti & meatballs for dessert

2009-10-15T13:42:00.000-07:00

IndeBleu
707 G St. NW
Washington, DC

Indebleu gets you talking about your food, and the conversation won't be dull.

When my friend insisted that we have spaghetti and meatballs for dessert -- at an Indian-French fusion restaurant? -- I figured it was a typo in her e-mail. Not at all. The server brought a potato ricer to our table and held it over a plate. The product looked like pasta, but it was saffron-cardamom ice cream, delicious with the gulab jamun "meatballs," donut balls in a not-too-sweet syrup. Next time, I'm not sharing!

We swooned over the sauteed fois gras topped with chocolate and served on brioche with a port-wine reduction. Imagine the richest chocolate croissant you've ever had, but meaty. (I will not be sharing this one, either.)

I didn't catch the name of the co-owner, a cheerful woman who stopped to ask if we were enjoying our meal, but I flagged her down the next time she passed so that I could rave about the spring-mushroom pasta with English peas, crispy greens and a bit of curry. I think I said something like, "This is what all pasta aspires to be." I can't remember the last time that a bite of pasta cleared my mind of all coherent thoughts other than "ummmm."

Some of the more exotic-sounding dishes (snow pea nest, curried shrimp fries) were tasty but not stand-outs. Half of the dinner menu was small plates, encouraging experimentation.

I'm trying to imagine "duck chili relleno," a chili pepper stuffed with duck confit, spinach and queso fresco, topped with basil vermouth cream and sherried cashews. I'm not certain that the chef can achieve fusion here, but I'd be willing to give it a chance.

Playing with our food @ Alinea

2009-07-30T09:45:00.000-07:00

Alinea
1723 North Halsted
Chicago

A meal at Alinea is surprising and funny. Nothing is what you expect, but when the dishes are revealed, they are thought-provoking and delightful.

This was my second visit, and I enjoyed all the little things that impressed me the first time. The plain storefront that you might easily pass by if not for the smiling valet who opens the door. The tunnel-like foyer that seems to close around you as you walk forward, searching for the entrance, and the unexpected sliding door that opens automatically, silently at your left. The plenitude of sharp-dressed staff who greet you with impeccable yet informal courtesy.

B & I opted for the full tour, 22 courses. This sounds like a stupendous amount of food, but most dishes consist of just few intriguing bites or sips.

The unusual serving pieces pictured above conveyed Alinea's version of bacon and sweet potato pie. The strip of bacon was flavored with butterscotch, apple and thyme. The "pie," in its whisk-like cradle, arrived with a smoldering cinnamon stick as an accent to the flavors of bourbon and brown sugar.

Here are more of my favorite plates from the evening.

Pork belly was served in a delicate cup formed from pressed iceberg lettuce and cucumber. A "Thai distillation" was a non-alcoholic shot that somehow gave a whirlwind tour of a Bangkok kitchen in a single swallow: lemongrass, chili peppers without the heat, fish sauce. It reminded me of Willy Wonka's chewing-gum meal, without the unpleasant side effects. (See "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," by Roald Dahl.)

Our server seemed to enjoy describing this "edible utensil." The dish began with yuba, also called tofu skin or bean skim, a thin sheet that forms when soy milk is boiled. The yuba was rolled into a stick and deep-fried, then wrapped in shrimp with miso and togarashi, a peppery Japanese condiment.

Here we have steak and potatoes, Alinea style. We were encouraged to dip bites of Wagyu beef into the sprinkle of powdered A-1 sauce on the plate.

This sweet dish of rhubarb, goat milk, and onion was accompanied by "lavender air." The plate rested on a cloth pillow, which emitted the scent of lavender blossoms as it gradually deflated.

Another sweet course was this arrangement of pound cake, strawberry, lemon and vanilla bean.

The penultimate dish was literally all over the table. Servers removed everything from the table, then spread a new covering of velvety silicone. Chef Grant Achatz arranged our dessert directly on the silicone, applying dollops and swirls of blueberries and sauce, whipped cream, and gel bubbles filled with essences of maple and tobacco.

Just in time, a server brought an odd frosty chunk, which the chef placed in the center of his creation and cracked into smaller pieces. It was chocolate mousse that had been frozen with liquid nitrogen. The final touch was more blueberry, dried into translucent sheets and stuck upright like sails. The frozen mousse softened quickly, and it was fun to scoop up spoonfuls of the sweet fruity rubble.

I asked Chef Achatz why he chose to compose the dessert this way. He talked about how he wanted to remove the restrictions imposed by a plate or serving platter. Later, I found an article by Achatz describing how this "plating" evolved in his kitchen. The essay is on the Web site of The Atlantic.

Have a look at Alinea's Web site for beautiful photographs of the food and the restaurant itself.

Things I didn't notice the first time

2009-05-13T16:22:00.001-07:00

I took these photos all within a few blocks of my home. I must have walked by more than once before I really saw them.

On the front porch of a Cowper Street cottage

This dome tops the building across the street from my apartment. Sometimes the window beneath the dome is lit at night. When I researched the dome online, all I found was the Flickr page of a renter in the building, who relayed the rumor that the top-floor apartment was the residence of the building's eccentric owner. Wonder if s/he owns a telescope.

The sushi at this University Avenue restaurant is okay. I like the cranes better.

These fellows are in the front yard of a nearby residence. I find them a little disturbing.

Changing the sound of the train

2009-05-07T17:09:00.000-07:00

From my fifth-floor apartment, I hear trains sounding their horns, all day and into the night.

I used to like the sound. It's just a commuter rail line, but those long, low signals reminded me of speed, of my favorite cities, of travel to exciting new places.

Now the trains sound mournful, even threatening, and I think about the despair of a boy, a stranger to me.

Two days ago, a 16-year-old high-school student was killed at a train crossing, in what appears to have been a suicide.

As I sat in my car at a red light, taking my son to school, this boy's life ended, a stone's throw away. When I passed the crossing a few minutes later, on my way home, the police cars and ambulances were just arriving.

The Web site of the local newspaper contains an outpouring of shock and grief. Classmates and parents post tributes to the boy, and condolences to his family and friends. All describe him as friendly, funny, bright and caring. Could he not see how much he was valued? Or was it just not enough to hold him here?

I can't get away from the sound of the trains, so I am trying to change the meaning of that sound.

What I'm trying to hear is, simply: stop for a moment. Be here now. Feel the sun and the breeze, hear all the sounds. Gaze at the mountains, taste the food, sit in comfort, write with a pen, dance on strong legs, talk with a friend.

And I keep returning to the words of the boy's high-school principal, in a message to her stricken community: "It is very, very important that we look out for each other... No problem is so big that a solution cannot be found if people ask for help and support. Please look after and take care of each other. Each of you is precious to us."

Calafia bounty

2009-04-21T13:49:00.000-07:00

Calafia Cafe
855 El Camino Real
Palo Alto

Calafia opened earlier this year, heralded by full-page ads in the local newspaper. Chef Charlie Ayers is known for being the original chef at Google and, before that, personal chef to the Grateful Dead.

The spare interior is inviting. A communal table at the front of the room is made of reclaimed redwood; overhead is a long chandelier composed of 66 amber glass milk bottles.

A first visit for brunch, about a week after the opening, revealed a few rough edges. French toast had a lovely orange-cinnamon aroma; inside, however, it lacked the proper egg/bread fusion. Sourdough pancakes were fluffy and generously sized, but one was frankly burnt and should not have reached the table.

The best dish was chicken fideo, a spicy noodle entree. A cumin-scented tofu scramble looked a little messy but tasted great, and came with a good-sized portion of crispy-velvety hash browns.

I returned for a mid-week lunch and was greeted in the parking lot by a lovely smoky scent from the woodburning oven. My affable server confirmed that my choice of small plates would not be an overwhelming amount of food for a solo diner. He also made wine recommendations confidently and offered a second choice if I wasn't pleased by my first selection.

If all vegetables were as delicious as my bowl of braised greens with almond butter, no one would have trouble getting their recommended daily allowance. The chard was cooked with onions and turmeric, lightly sweetened with dried cranberries and topped with toasted walnuts.

Lamb meatballs looked like party food, skewered with cubes of toasted bread and Manchego cheese, then dipped in a sweet and savory tomato sauce. I was glad I didn't try to resist the crispy fries; I ate more than I intended, trying to decipher their spice mix. Garlic, definitely; cumin, maybe; sweet paprika?

Calafia's pyramid of "death by chocolate" is worth the caloric binge. Real whipped cream, intense chocolate flavor, super-strong (not burned) coffee... sip, repeat.

I've been back since then for an evening meal, and every dish has been a winner. Thoughtful touches abound. Nearly half of the seats in the house are barstools facing the shiny open kitchen, but there are purse hooks and a thick wooden beam at the ideal height for a footrest. The hostess who seated us saw me shrugging off my jacket and returned to hang up my coat.

Servers take your order on hand-held devices that allow you to settle your bill at the table. Coffee is brewed a cup at a time using a Clover machine, an $11,000 built-to-order device revered by coffee fanatics.

Even the servers' uniforms are designed with the customer in mind: The T-shirts helpfully provide a phonetic spelling on the back, "kal-uh-fee-ya."

Ame: Amo, amas, amat

2009-04-20T11:14:00.000-07:00

Ame
689 Mission St
San Francisco

My delightful evening at Ame began with "forbidden fruit," a cocktail composed of pear-spiced vodka, cinnamon quince puree, apple and lemon juice, apricot brandy, and Angostura bitters. It smelled like an exotic flower, but the taste was not overly sweet.

I almost didn't order this drink, because it sounded like too many disparate ingredients. Likewise, Ame's Web page describes the approach of chefs Hiro Sone and Lissa Doumani as "a refined blending of local ingredients with the flavors of southern France and northern Italy, filtered through Hiro's Japanese culinary sensibilities." Somehow, this succeeds.

B and I ordered the tasting menu, the prudent choice for both the indecisive and the adventurous. The colorful first course offered three goodies: scallop ceviche with candied jalapeno and watermelon radish, seared tuna with ponzu vinaigrette, and trout sashimi served with roe, asparagus and heart of palm. Next came oxtail soup with green garlic and farro verde, and rich oxtail tortelloni.

Another brothy plate followed: broiled sake- marinated black cod in shiso broth. The fish was slightly sweet and very lightly cooked.

My favorite savory plate was the grilled beef strip loin steak with poutine and green onions. Traditional poutine, I discovered, is Canadian comfort food: French fries topped with fresh cheese curds and brown gravy. This version was more elegant, but just as comforting, with a bed of crispy-starchy cubed potatoes beneath the well-marbled beef.

Desserts did not disappoint. I enjoyed the frozen banana cream pie parfait with white chocolate and rum caramel sauce. But when I think "pie," I think of flaky crust -- not an artistic dusting of crumbs on the plate. Why not just call it a parfait? And I would have liked more than a few dots of sauce on the plate.

B kindly let me taste his dessert, but he was quick to move it back to his side of the table, and I didn't blame him. Semolina pudding fritters were a little like beignets, and the lively citrus salad and elderflower soda pop kept the taste buds interested throughout.

If we hadn't ordered the set menu, I might have tried the "staff meal:" cuttlefish noodles tossed with sea urchin, wasabi, and umami soy sauce. Even though I'm not that crazy about sea-urchin sushi. Even though I can't quite imagine cuttlefish noodles.

Or perhaps the chawan-mushi, Japanese savory custard with sea urchin, geoduck clam, shimeji mushrooms and mizuna sauce. Again, my imagination fails.

Ame's Web site has beautiful pictures of the jewel-box room and the food -- much better than I could manage with my iPhone in the dimly lit space.

Midday meditation

2009-04-17T09:17:00.000-07:00

For my second visit to Jin Sho, I sat at the sushi bar, thinking I'd have a simple lunch. Instead, I decided spur-of-the-moment to ask for omakase, a Japanese phrase that means "It's up to you" (from 任す, entrust).

To a sushi chef, omakase means, "Serve me whatever you choose, whatever is best today." Jin Sho's best is very good indeed. This meal was so pretty and flavorful that it was like a little midday meditation.

I watched the sushi chef assembling this attractive little bowl and hoped that it was for me. When it was placed before me, I found yellowtail tartare, topped with a dab of caviar, and a small pool of wasabi soy sauce. I was instructed to save the small red fruit for last: it was yamamomo, a soft-fleshed fruit rather like kiwi in texture, equally tart and sweet.

Next was tuna sashimi salad, a dish I tried on a previous visit and was happy to see again. The fish was slightly seared and coated in crushed peppercorns, with just enough bite to accent the sesame dressing.

The rock shrimp tempura didn't look all that remarkable on the plate, but it was a perfect blend of crunchy, creamy, cool and spicy. It reminded me incongruously of a New Orleans po'boy in the way it combined crispy seafood, seasoned mayonnaise and lettuce.

The miso-marinated black cod was another fascinating fusion: sweet and salty, earthy yet delicate. It was followed by a bowl of miso soup and a sushi plate: tuna, white tuna, ocean trout, and the freshest, sweetest scallop sushi I've ever tasted.

Late cherry blossoms

2009-04-08T21:18:00.000-07:00

Pale petals drop, as
directed by a wind chime:
ding, release, float, fall

Geek girl, circa 1830

2009-03-24T08:02:00.000-07:00

Ada Augusta Byron, Lady Lovelace (1815-52) has been described as the first computer programmer.

She was the daughter of the poet George Gordon Byron. Her mother, who was briefly married to Byron and wanted to stamp out any poetical tendencies in their daughter, encouraged Ada to study mathematics and sciences.

Ada met mathematician/inventor Charles Babbage and was fascinated by his design for the analytical engine, a machine for making numerical calculations. She published an annotated summary of his work, adding (with his approval) several pages of notes on a method for calculating Bernoulli numbers, a sequence of numbers important to number theory.

Lady Lovelace took Babbage's ideas one step further, speculating that the analytical engine could be used for "developping [sic] and tabulating any function whatever," including music composition.

Today, March 24th, is Ada Lovelace Day, an international day of blogging to draw attention to women excelling in technology.

Read about pioneering computer programmer Admiral Grace Hopper and other women scientists at the Women in Science site, sponsored by the San Diego Supercomputer Center.

Supersize sushi

2009-03-12T16:06:00.000-07:00

Momoya
570 N. Shoreline Blvd
Mountain View, CA

Is bigger better when it comes to sushi? Momoya left me uncertain. Here's my working hypothesis: If you're going to serve platter-sized sushi rolls, they'd better be made of the freshest ingredients. As far as I can tell from one visit, Momoya accomplishes this.

The location, in a shopping strip dominated by a Safeway, could lead you to expect a neighborhood pub behind the dark exterior. Inside, the walls are painted a startling deep sea green, sparsely decorated with a few framed posters and signs advertising sushi specials.

First I tried the spicy super poki roll, filled with tuna and topped with grilled eel. This was almost a meal in itself with a side of steamed and salted edamame, fresh and sweet as just-picked corn.

Curiosity led me to keep ordering. The "smash roll" was shrimp tempura surrounded by eel, avocado, eel and iceberg lettuce. The whole thing was dredged in "crumb;" at first I thought it was tempura batter, but a friend later suggested panko crumbs, and I think she was right.

I admired the creativity, but really, the thing was ridiculous. There was no good way to eat it: crumbs flying everywhere, too big to eat in one bite, too loose to make two or three bites out of a slice. I ate it anyway, of course, with no attempt at style. Good thing I had a nice dry Asahi beer to cut through the crumb.

I didn't try any nigiri, but from my seat at the sushi bar I saw some being made, and the portions were astounding. Slabs of fish hung over the shaped rice. It would have been vaguely unappetizing if the fish hadn't been so fresh. Generous, but not pretty.

If I hadn't been dining solo, I would have ordered some other interesting combos, like the Gilroy roll, with fresh garlic and basil, or the Las Vegas, which combined fresh lobster, avocado, tuna and mango.

A friendly neighbor at the sushi bar told me that Momoya supplies the sushi for Google headquarters just down the road, which allows them to buy in sufficient quantities that their fish is always the freshest. If you go, show up hungry, and the friendly servers and chefs will take good care of you.

March rose

2009-03-11T14:50:00.001-07:00

700 block, Webster St
Palo Alto

Flavors of place @ Coi

2009-03-04T17:17:00.000-08:00

Coi

373 Broadway

San Francisco

An evening at Coi will expand your culinary vocabulary. At a recent visit, the 11-course tasting menu was a progression of fascinating flavors, textures and scents. Several times I had to quiz the obliging waiter about ingredients that I'd never encountered before.

Daniel Patterson, the chef at the helm of Coi (pronounced "kwah"), emphasizes "flavors of place" in his menu, which changes daily. Coi's Web site elaborates on this point, describing the chefs' use of "the best ingredients we can find in our area: cultivated plants grown from heirloom seeds; wild-harvested leaves, flowers, barks and roots; local fish, seaweeds and coastal grasses; pastured meat, poultry and eggs from small farmers"

When the server presented the first course, a salad of pink grapefruit, ginger, tarragon and black pepper, he pointed out a dot of oil at the side of the plate. This oil had been infused with the ingredients on the plate before us, and we were encouraged to enjoy the scent, even to dab it on our wrists if we wished. It made a pleasant spicy perfume, but it faded too quickly from my skin.

(The restaurant reviewer for the New York Times felt "a little absurd" when he was served the same dish during a visit to Coi. I guess I like playing with my food. He also explained the restaurant's name, derived from an archaic French word for tranquility.)

A dish described in the menu as "shiny beets" turned out to be thin slices of beet topped with a layer of citrus scented gel and seasoned with vadouvan, a roasted curry powder that is the French version of Indian masala.

Then we had a "tart" of goat cheese and paper-thin black olive crisps, decorated by a salad of chicories, green apple and mint (picture at left).

The course that followed may have been my favorite: young artichokes poached in olive oil, with fennel, puntarelle (a type of chicory, a leafy green with serrated leaves), slices of a very yellow-fleshed potato identified as "rose finn apple," and the zest of rangpur lime, an orange-colored hybrid of a mandarin orange and a lemon.

The next three courses each offered a choice of two dishes. First was an "abstraction of garden in winter," which turned out to be a salad of root vegetables. We couldn't decide why it was deemed an "abstraction." Perhaps this meant a reduction of the dish to its most basic, fundamental ingredients.)

Also served at this point in the menu was a crab melt, "California style." What made it Californian? Generous amounts of Dungeness crab meat, wheatgrass, sprouts? The other main ingredient, lardo, isn't particularly Californian.

The poetically named "earth and sea" was a small bowl of tofu-based soup with fresh seaweeds and mushroom dashi (Japanese stock commonly made from edible kelp). The yuba (tofu "skin") formed ribbons similar to pasta, only chewier.

The next course was lovely on the plate: vivid green cannelloni made from nettles and filled with ricotta cheese and wild mushrooms. Tiny oxalis (wood sorrel) flowers were scattered over the pasta.

I've eaten abalone before, but I never understood why it was considered a delicacy. This abalone was delicious, sauteed and served with escarole and "caper berry-sea lettuce vinaigrette." I'm still not sure what qualifies as sea lettuce -- "edible green algae" doesn't sound all that attractive -- but the tart and tangy dressing was plate-licking good.

The final entree course included a beef sirloin steak and an egg dish. I was startled by the accompaniment to the beef: the menu said only "marrow, cauliflower puree," and I was expecting something vegetal when I tried a forkful. But it was overwhelmingly rich and meaty, nearly pure marrow, much better when spread on bread. The slow-cooked egg was served with green farro (whole-grain wheat), chard, and brown-butter Parmesan sauce.

Our cheese course featured a two-year-aged cheddar, served with rye bread and a tangy little salad of cabbage and grainy mustard.

The picture at the top of this post shows one of the two desserts, quince and huckleberry parfait. I liked the almond brittle that showed up in every bite, and the hint of lemon thyme.

But I was really looking forward to the other dessert, trying to imagine "chocolate-mesquite cake, smoked pepitas praline, Kabocha squash sherbet." Vegetable ice cream, really? Believe it! It was only a little sweet, making me think for some reason of green tea ice cream.

We also enjoyed the drink pairings for this meal. With our appetizer, we were served a cocktail of sparkling Vouvray and hibiscus tea, seasoned with Indonesian long pepper, cassia, and Asian citrus. The combination was refreshing.

Other courses were paired with a Madeira, a nutty sherry, and a very tasty Japanese beer (Hitachino XH) that was new to us, in addition to several unusual wines.

This post probably reads as an interminable recital of bizarre dishes. But each plate held distinct but harmonious flavors that revealed themselves throughout the course, and each portion was exactly the right size. It was an excellent dining adventure.

Not just sushi

2009-02-24T15:12:00.000-08:00

Jin Sho
454 S. California Ave
Palo Alto

Jin Sho's Web site describes the restaurant's style as "executive-class Japanese cuisine," which may come as a surprise to a first-time visitor who glances at the menu and the unassuming storefront.

The sushi and sashimi served at Jin Sho looked very attractive and fresh, but there's much more to the menu.

The chefs who opened Jin Sho last year are alumni of Nobu, the popularly acclaimed modern Japanese restaurant in New York City restaurant headed by chef Nobu Matsuhisa.

The interior of Jin Sho is light-filled and modern, with a dozen seats at the sushi bar facing the open kitchen.

I was attracted by the lunchtime prix fixe menu offering three courses, starting with several seafood-based appetizers. When I ordered "tuna sashimi salad," I expected rosy slices of raw tuna and some greens, so when this plate arrived, I was surprised, pleasantly so. The tuna steak was seared, coated with black peppercorns, and served with an addictive sesame dressing. The pepper was spicy but not too aggressive, and the portion size was just right.

The entree, miso-marinated black cod, was even better. The broiled fish was perfectly cooked, almost translucent and slightly sweet, with a wonderful earthy aroma. I was tempted to order another plate -- not because the portion left me wanting, just because it was so delicious.

The meal ended with a tiny dish of strawberry panna cotta, served in a wooden sake cup the size of a large shot glass. It was creamy with good vanilla flavor and tasted like fresh strawberries.

An amazing platter of fresh corn tempura on the table next to mine looked like golden puffed-corn cakes, piled high and encircled by powdery green trails which my server told me were maccha (green tea) salt. The two men at the table demolished the stack in short order.

I'd also like to try one of Jin Sho's signature appetizers: "yellow tail with jalapeno," paper-thin slices of sashimi tuna dressed with jalapeno, cilantro and yuzu (Japanese citrus) soy.

Oscar movie marathon

2009-02-22T17:04:00.001-08:00

I gave up a Saturday to the movies, but I feel as though I lived several lifetimes in that interval. Or at least a few months, in someone else's life.

Last Saturday, AMC theaters across the country screened all five movies nominated for the best-movie Oscar. The showcase began with "Milk" at 10:30 a.m. and closed with "Frost/Nixon," ending at midnight.

The Santa Clara theater where I went sold out. I saw empty seats, but people were moving around between movies, and it seemed that a good number of them left didn't stay for all of the movies.

"Milk" was moving and unexpectedly funny. Sean Penn portrayed Harvey Milk as engaging, charismatic, and wickedly funny, eager to reach out to others but not shy about drawing a line past which he will not be pushed. Penn created a character who is both humble and appreciative of his political power.

The movie often had the grainy look of a 70s newsreel, even when we weren't seeing historic footage. This effect was used sporadically and wasn't distracting. The director successfully evoked anxiety and claustrophobia in the crowd rally scenes, shooting low and as if being jostled.

"The Reader" was intense and emotional, raising a lot of questions without answering most of them. The audience laughed several times at points that I did not think were funny at all. Perhaps it was nervous laughter, trying to break the tension.

All of the characters are seeking answers, but there are no explanations, no absolution, not even a clear definition of guilt. Why does Michael (Ralph Fiennes) act as he does when he has information that could affect Hannah's (Kate Winslet) future? Does he think he's respecting her wishes, or is he trying to punish her? Why does Hannah respond as she does during her trial for war crimes -- shame, guilt, helplessness, or something else? The movie leaves you pondering these things, and the awesome work by Fiennes and Winslet makes you wish you had the answers, regardless of whether or not you liked their characters.

I was prepared to dismiss "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," with its tagline "Life isn't measured in minutes, but in moments," as too Forest-Gumpian for my tastes, although I figured I'd enjoy the eye candy. And there was plenty of that: At a point in the movie where Brad Pitt's character is about the actual age of the actor, a woman gazes at him and blurts out, "My God, you're perfect!" which got a good laugh from the audience.

In the end, it is a movie filled with what sound like platitudes -- we're all on a journey, taking different roads, you have to learn to let go, don't be afraid to love. But the device of the man aging in reverse, getting younger as he gets older, somehow allows these things to be reconsidered. The pace of the movie is slow, but in a very enjoyable way, lingering over the faces of the actors and the lovely parts of New Orleans.

At this point in the day, I was ready for some Bollywood color and rhythm, a little lightness and romance. "Slumdog Millionaire" is irresistable. The faces are fresh and passionate. There are some horrifying acts of violence, but they don't extinguish the hopeful spirit of the movie, embodied by Dev Patel, the youthful hero. It was everything you could want in a movie: pretty, action-filled, suspenseful, romantic, and a dance number at the end that leaves your toes tapping.

It was the last of the five movies, and perhaps I was tiring, but my attention wandered during "Frost/Nixon," despite riveting moments when the movie focused tightly on the gamesmanship between David Frost (Michael Sheen) and Richard Nixon (Frank Langella).

The semi-documentary style of the film was distracting; I could see what was happening, I didn't need someone telling me what I was seeing. Also, I understand what a handheld camera (or the look of one) can add to a scene -- the immediacy, the you-are-there realism -- but sometimes I just got tired of the jiggly picture. I wanted to say: Quit nudging me, already.

The most compelling image, the one that lingered after the lights came up, was a tight shot of Nixon's face at the end of the interviews, when he realizes that his political career has truly ended and that he has no one to blame but himself. He looks overwhelmingly lonely, defeated, and self-loathing.

It was odd to live in such a timeless space, to spend a day without demands or deadlines. I thought I'd emerge bleary-eyed and mentally drained, but I was just a little tired, and not at all ready for the experience to end.

Yelp me some katsu

2009-02-02T21:30:00.000-08:00

Hattoriya

799 San Antonio Road

Palo Alto, CA

It was lunch time, and I didn't know where to go or what to eat. So I Yelped the neighborhood, and a few minutes later I was eating homey Japanese food in a little place that I would never have noticed on my own.

Hattoriya looks like it was a burger joint or a donut shop in a previous life. If you enter through the side door, the entry is lined with bookshelves, stocked with Japanese-language books and magazines. I received a warm greeting from the lone server and a shout from the chef in the kitchen.

I ordered a dish that several Yelpers had recommended, beef curry tonkatsu. Before I could even finish my appetizer bowl of miso soup, the beef curry arrived in a metal gravy server. Rice was served on a large flat plate, alongside a piping hot tonkatsu (pork cutlet).

The tonkatsu was perfectly fried, crispy, tender and greaseless. The curry was mildly spiced but very flavorful, with small chunks of tender beef.

The server playfully congratulated me for cleaning my plate.

Geometry of pie

2008-11-26T11:37:00.000-08:00

Modular pie-cosahedron

This is pie.

Specifically, it's a pecan pie with the topology of a sphere, made up of 20 triangular sub-pies.

The baker/architect, a professor of computer science at UC Irvine, made isoceles-triangle-shaped pie pans out of sheet metal, then connected them with extra-strong magnets. He reports "surprisingly little slump" during serving.

Beautiful AND edible!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Dance your Ph.D.

2008-11-20T23:24:00.000-08:00

Check out some of the winners of the second annual Science Dance Contest, sponsored by the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS).

Contestants choreographed and performed dances illustrating their Ph.D. theses.

This is my favorite, the winner in the graduate-student division: Sue Lynn Lau, of the University of Sydney, Australia, and some friends interpreted her thesis, titled “The role of vitamin D in beta cell function.”

(The Sugar Plum Fairy is feeding the beta cells marshmallows, a.k.a glucose.)

Go geeks! You never see anything like this on "Dancing with the Stars."

I wouldn't have a clue how to dance this thesis: “Resolving pathways of functional coupling in human hemoglobin using quantitative low temperature isoelectric focusing of asymmetric mutant hybrids.”

But here is the winner in the professors' division, Vince LiCata, a biology professor at Louisiana State University, with his interpretation of said thesis, which he calls, "A Molecular Dance in the Blood, Observed."

The music is perfect; it's Laurie Anderson, "Born, Never Asked," from the album Big Science. (Years ago, I had an excerpt from "O Superman" as the outgoing message on my answering machine for months, until my friends begged me to remove it.)

Nanobama

2008-11-17T13:05:00.000-08:00

John Hart & colleagues, Nanobama

These 3-D portraits are smaller than a grain of salt. Each "nanobama" is a vertical stack of about 150 million carbon nanotubes, unusually strong hollow cylinders about 1/50,000th the width of a human hair.

University of Michigan professor John Hart and his colleagues began by converting Shepard Fairey's iconic red, white and blue poster of Barack Obama to a line drawing. They shrunk the drawing and printed it on a glass plate with a laser. Then they shined ultraviolet light through the glass plate on to a silicon wafer to create a pattern on which to grow the carbon nanotubes.

View more of Hart's nano-art at www.nanobliss.com.

Top Ten Declarations of the 11th Annual Moms' Getaway Weekend

2008-11-11T13:06:00.000-08:00

Anish Kapoor
Cloud Gate
Millennium Park
Chicago

From the home office @ the Hotel Burnham, Chicago:

10. "Crepes." "Grapes?" "Crepes!"

9. "I need socks." "Bill's not here." "SOCKS!"

8. "If you get A27, I'm going to scream."

7. "No one is answering your questions, Marcia."

6. "It's the pickle that you pickle, but it's not pickled."

5. "I almost put my underwear in the minibar."

4. "Nobody puts Rosana in the corner." "I just saw that show!"

3. "I don't want to be in the teddy photo."

2. "He'll have to pry me out with his baguette."

And the number-one declaration of the 11th Annual Moms' Getaway Weekend:

1. "Ladies, have you come to a decision?" "Yes." "But we're not going to tell you what it is."

Google tapas

2008-10-17T09:10:00.000-07:00

Pintxo 47
1545 Charleston Rd
Mountain View, CA

Pintxo is reputed to be the best of the 16 restaurants and cafes on Google's Mountain View campus. It's cafeteria-style, but what you're looking at as you slide your plastic tray down the line is far from standard cafeteria fare.

The plates I assembled on my tray could have used a shot of color. Only the duck leg with pumpkin and cranberries had some contrast, although all of the dishes were appealing.

I started with a cup of parsnip-pear soup, which also contained onions, leeks, and pear liquor. The combination of flavors was unique and harmonious.

Next was an apple and celery-root "remoulade" dressed with Dijon mustard cream. No single flavor stood out; it was a pleasant crunchy salad.

The roasted duck leg was a great fall dish, rich but not overly sweet like duck with fruit can be sometimes.

Parsnip-stuffed cabbage was another surprise. Cabbage doesn't usually elicit a "wow" from me like this plate did. The leaves were stuffed with pureed parsnips and sauced with apple puree and cider reduction, an intriguing combination of sweet and sharp.

I also tried smoked trout rillettes, purple kale risotto, butternut squash ravioli, and a "pintxo" of black bass with artichokes, fennel, Meyer lemon and saffron. Each dish was just a few bites; all were tasty and expertly prepared.

Desserts didn't call out to me, although the cheese board had some interesting choices: a butter-soft Brillat-Savarin; a Spanish goat cheese, Murcia al Vino ("drunken goat"); and Humboldt Fog, a locally produced chevre striped with edible vegetable ash.

(This picture was taken around 11:45 am, when hardly anyone was having lunch yet. At 12 sharp, the line was suddenly out the door.)

For better photos than these, check out CNN/Fortune's take on Google food. (Pintxo is pictured in photos 8-14.)

Flavorful spice

2008-10-12T18:03:00.000-07:00

Flavors of India
26703 Brookpark Rd Ext
North Olmsted, Ohio

Flavors of India is hidden in a nondescript strip mall. It's not even clear from a casual glance that it's a restaurant, except for handmade signs reading, "We serve halal meat," and "Punjabi and Gujarati catering."

Inside, the decor is serene and neutral. The room feels like a family dining room. The thick menu full of colorful photos and the orange cloth napkins belie the budget prices.

Flavors' menu goes beyond the standards. I was surprised to see a page of the Indian street food called chaat. This included several forms of puri, which another reviewer delightfully compares to loaded nachos. Instead of corn tortilla chips, there are hollowed spheres of crispy chickpea batter, topped with potatoes, lentils, onions, yogurt sauce, mint and sweet chutney.

My group began with an assortment of samosas, vegetable pakuras and paneer pakuras. Samosas can be a dissapointment, too greasy or too skimpy on the filling of potatoes and peas, but this platter had the right balance.

The chef at Flavors has two decades of experience at several restaurants in the Washington, DC area. Our server described how all of the sauces are made from fresh ingredients, rather than canned sauce bases. Even a commonplace dish like chicken tikka masala had such a luscious flavor that I kept adding spoonfuls of basmati rice to my plate, the better to soak up the tomatoey sauce. (We didn't order naan, after finishing off our generous appetizer, but we could have used it here.)

We also enjoyed neelgiri korma, boneless chicken in a creamy cilantro-laced sauce with almonds and cashews. The spiciest dish (we asked for "mild" spice in all our dishes) was the navrattan korma, with mixed vegetables, nuts and raisins. ("Nav" means nine, and a navrattan typically contains nine different ingredients.)

You know you've hit on a good restaurant when, sated, you find yourself planning what you'll order next time. As we left, my dining companions were discussing a return visit for the daily lunch buffet ($7.99 weekdays, $9.99 weekends).

Inventive food @ Orson

2008-10-08T22:04:00.000-07:00

Orson
508 Fourth Street
San Francisco

An impulsive choice turned out to be a good way to celebrate my birthday. Orson was fun, and the desserts were genius.

Chef Elizabeth Falkner has been known for her pastries since she opened Citizen Cake Patisserie and Restaurant in 1997.

Reviews of Orson frequently use the words "edgy" and "modern" in describing both the food and the decor. The most eye-catching feature of the place is the 30-seat bar in the round, with a large striking pendant lamp above. (I believe it's a design called "Big Bang.") The interior has the vibe of a hip loft apartment, with bare white walls, dark wood floors, exposed steel beams and abstract art.

The cocktail menu had interesting takes on classic drinks. I was tempted by the celery gimlet -- gin, celery, lime and agave nectar. But I ordered "the modern," curious to see what the result would be with a mix of bourbon, lemon, apple and mint. The drink was refreshing, a little like a mojito, a little like a mint julep.

With our drinks came a small bowl of toasted brown and white rice, a pleasantly crunchy and salty nibble. We asked for the chef's tasting menu, which was described as the chef's choice of dishes of the menu in three courses, but it appeared as a continuous parade of small plates.

First were shotglass servings of different soups, a puree of roasted red pepper and another of pumpkin.

One plate contained hefty beef bones cracked open to serve the marrow. It was like meaty butter, spread on fat slices of grilled sourdough bread and accompanied by half a head of roasted garlic, which I thought nearly overwhelmed the rest.

The most visually spectacular dish was the smoked tempura egg. I had to quiz our server about this; he explained that the egg was soft-boiled, smoked, shelled, wrapped in nori for texture, and fried in tempura batter.

B said the result looked like a chicken, with tempura tentacles forming a neck and wings. From where I sat, it resembled a sea urchin, floating in a sea of scallion broth and a few cooked vegetables. It was smoky and crispy, by turns making me think of American breakfast and Japanese lunch.

We also tasted a summer bean salad topped with nutty-tasting sprouted beans; a dish of melt-in-your-mouth potato gnocchi, served with arugula and sweet corn sauce; and some grilled sardines served with padron peppers and maitake mushrooms.

One entree was perfectly roasted salmon on a bed of brioche-and-bacon dressing. A foam of white vinegar on top offered more texture than flavor.

Since we weren't ordering a la carte, we were pleased to find that the tasting menu included "wondrous pig." How could I pass up a dish with that billing? There was leg and loin, roast and belly, some bacon and a "trotter croquette,"

I was surprised to see a highchair come out at a trendy place like this, on a Saturday night. The party next to us included two young children, who appeared to enjoy their pizza from the wood-burning oven. I wanted to ask for a taste of their French fries, which were cooked in duck fat and served with a browned-butter bearnaise sauce. "I like this butter sauce better than ketchup. May I have some more, please?" one of the kids piped up.

The dessert in the foreground was labelled "the return:" logs of fudgy chocolate, a sprinkle of cocoa nibs, a swirl of deep caramel sauce, a few dates cooked in wine, and a wonderful Thai lemongrass sorbet that had B and I spoon-dueling for the last bites. The crispy paper-thin cracker perched on top was very salty, which contrasted nicely with the rich chocolate.

We also enjoyed the moist apple cake floating in an airy sabayon made from Anchor Steam beer instead of wine. It included a scoop of apple sorbet that was like a condensation of the most intense cider you've ever tasted. Chopped apple in the sabayon had been cooked in root beer; the result was rather like a candied apple.

I wanted to question the creator of this dessert, either chef Falkner or pastry chef Luis Villavelazquez. Did he think: Hmm, what if I made a sabayon with beer? What could I serve that with? Or did it begin with the combination of apples and Anchor Steam? Either way, it was a swell party.

That melon has teeth!

2008-10-08T18:24:00.000-07:00

Recently I attended a fundraiser for presidential candidate Barack Obama in Silicon Valley.

Hillary Rodham Clinton appeared at the event, at the home of California Congresswoman Zoe Lofgren, and gave a short speech.

While waiting for the senator, I was distracted by good Mexican food, a mariachi band, intermittent rain showers, and this pleasant fellow.

I had to ask a server: Donkey's toothsome grin was made with kernels of hominy. I'm already planning next my next jack o'lantern.

I'm not usually star-struck, but it was a little thrill to be able to shake hands and say, "How nice to meet you, Senator." Perhaps I would have felt the same about any senator, but especially so for the most well-known of the 16 women in the Senate. That's 16, out of 100. An all-time high.

... but I kept looking, and found some!

2008-09-30T20:09:00.000-07:00

This is Cupcake Week in Palo Alto -- I have declared it so, and why not, seeing as my birthday is approaching? Sprinkles may be famous and all that, but my new favorite place for a personal-sized cake is Kara's Cupcakes, which opened last week in Palo Alto's Town and Country Village shopping center.

I wasn't sure I was going to like Kara's cakes, based on my first bite. My two boys go for plain vanilla, and neither of them finished their "sweet vanilla" cupcakes, to my surprise. E said they were too sweet, and I had to agree when I sampled (OK, finished) the leftovers. The frosting was pure sugar, held together by a little butter and a solid layer of vanilla sprinkles. The cake had a genuine, home-made flavor.

The "grown-up" cupcakes were a real treat. The filling of the passionfruit cupcake was wonderfully fruity and tart, and this frosting was just sweet enough.

The "fleur de sel" cupcake was intense. Dark chocolate cake was topped with bittersweet chocolate ganache and a sprinkle of coarse salt. Inside there's a dollop of caramel. I would have liked more filling in this one; the caramel was a little lost within all of that chocolatey goodness.

Next time, I'll try chocolate velvet (chocolate cake with bittersweet chocolate buttercream) or java (chocolate cake with espresso buttercream).

Baker Kara's bio on her Web site gave me a chuckle. Her father, a dentist, disapproved of sugary treats. "Thankfully... she no longer needs to hide sweets."

A good cupcake is hard to find...

2008-09-26T16:40:00.001-07:00

When I learned that a Sprinkles cupcake bakery had opened in Palo Alto, I was suddenly in need of a sugar fix.

Me and a lot of other people.

My sweet tooth was sated, but I'm still in search of the ideal cupcake.

I tried two flavors, red velvet and mocha. The red velvet had lovely brownish red cake, not food-coloring red. But can a cupcake be too moist? When I peeled off the paper liner, the cake nearly collapsed under the weight of the frosting.

The cream-cheese frosting was achingly sweet. A flat candy decoration on top -- the trademark "modern dot," color-coded for each cupcake flavor -- was stylish, but so hard that I wondered belatedly if it wasn't meant to be eaten.

The mocha cupcake was more satisfying, with delicious frosting. There's no substitute for real butter in cake frosting, and this one had it in spades, with just the right amount of coffee flavor to match the deep chocolate cake.

(Sorry I don't have pictures of the cupcakes. I love my iPhone, but it takes inexplicably bad pictures. No one else I know has this problem.)

Next time I'd try the black and white cupcake, or chai latte (which apparently only makes an appearance on Fridays), or maybe ginger lemon.

I've gone by the store twice, and each time there were lines out the door, perhaps 30 people long. I'm going to have to study that flavor schedule to plan my next visit.

Seen in the city

2008-09-10T22:06:00.000-07:00

If you have a motorcycle, do you even need espresso?
MotoJava, 9th Street @ Bryant, San Francisco

Stick to reusable shopping bags, or become a fashion victim like this poor soul. (It's a little more effective when you see it in motion, but there is a pair of legs underneath the bags.)
University Avenue, Palo Alto, Ca.

Happy hour with a view.
Locals (those of a certain age, at least) call this the "jukebox Marriott," which is just what it looks like from the street.
The View, 39th floor, San Francisco Marriott, 55 Fourth Street

It's just another Westfield Shoppingtowne, but I like the curvy escalators.
Westfield San Francisco Centre, 865 Market Street

Art in the streets

2008-08-28T13:45:00.000-07:00

The Palo Alto Festival of the Arts was a great way to spend a Saturday: enjoying the sun, strolling down the middle of University Avenue, looking at the work of talented artists, and indulging in the sort of food you only eat at street fairs.

Fried artichoke hearts with mayonnaise, fried calamari, kettle corn, skewers of grilled meat. (Where else could you walk around chomping on a stick of teriyaki chicken without feeling self-conscious?)

One block was set aside for Italian street painting, and a vivid patchwork of ephemeral art emerged.

The City from Grizzly Peak, by Tom Killion

I took home this wonderful woodcut print and its mate; together the pair gives a panoramic view of San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the Bay. The artist, Tom Killion, draws on the techniques of early 19th century Japanese ukiyo-ë landscape masters as well as those of early 20th century American and European wood-engraving and book illustration.

Working from his own sketches made on site, Killion carves the images onto blocks made of cherry, linoleum or other materials, using Japanese hand tools. Sometimes a different block is made for each color. Other times, a block is printed with a light color; then parts are carved away and another color is used, overprinting the first.

I enjoyed talking with Killion at his festival booth and looking at his samples demonstrating the complex process by which the layers of color are added to the print. It's wonderful to have a piece of art in your home that you enjoy looking at every day, and it's even more meaningful to have met the artist and listened to him or her describe the creative process.

My new toy

2008-08-27T11:34:00.000-07:00

This was my gift to myself from the Exploratorium.

It's Constructibles, a set of 25 slotted cardboard shapes to build with.

Want a set of your own? Get one through the Exploratorium Store here (and browse through the other cool stuff they have to play with).

Or go to the manufacturer's site, Mudpuppy, for more pattern options.

Please touch the exhibits

2008-08-22T23:15:00.000-07:00

One of the best things to do in San Francisco, whether you're a child or not, is to visit the Exploratorium. It is the most interesting science museum I've ever seen, perhaps because it subverts the traditional idea of a museum. It's more like a playground combined with an art studio and a workshop where you're allowed to use all the tools. Nothing says "don't touch."

To quote the Exploratorium's Web site, the place is "a collage of hundreds of interactive exhibits in the areas of science, art, and human perception."

You can watch a museum staffer dissect a cow's eye or fertilize sea-urchin eggs. Or draw a picture using a fixed marker pen and a three-foot square pad of paper on a pendulum tray.

Once the boys and I were fascinated by a time-lapse movie showing how the body of a dead bird decays. On this visit, we were spent a lot of time peering under the hood of a car and learning how mechanics diagnose mechanical problems by their sounds.

This playspace invited us to "stack the stars" and figure out how to best arrange them so that there was hardly any space in between. The best part, according to C, was the "tunnels" between the structure and the floor. I had to take his word on that, not being small enough to wriggle through.

(If anyone knows what this shape is called, please comment! I forgot the term. It looks like this stellated dodecahedron.)

The box of magnetic black sand always draws a crowd. It feels almost like stroking a smooth furry animal.

The "Mind" portion of the museum explores how we think and feel. Stand in the middle of a bullseye and look up as directed, and you'll see that a grand piano is hoisted directly overhead, hanging by a single cable. How do you feel about this? Maybe you don't care. Or maybe you feel a little strange, like a target, even though your rational mind knows that you're perfectly safe.

I love watching people approach this exhibit's unusual water fountain. It works as you'd expect, but the water spout is attached to a toilet. The display assures you that this is a brand-new fixture, never used for its apparent purpose. Will you drink from it? (I make a point of doing so whenever I walk by, and every time it requires a tiny bit of mental effort.)

Since you're going to be here for a long visit, it's good to know that you can have a tasty meal or snack. If a young companion demands PB&J or pizza, you can get those. But I enjoyed spicy roasted chicken served with wild rice pilaf and an organic mixed greens salad with a wonderful shiitake-mushroom vinaigrette. And a Haagen-Dazs ice-cream chaser.

High wire

2008-08-20T16:03:00.001-07:00

I don't watch many documentaries, and I don't usually write movie reviews, but "Man on Wire" is compelling, and no one whom I've talked with recently seems to know about it.

On August 7, 1974, a man walked a tightrope strung surreptitiously between the towers of New York's World Trade Center. Philippe Petit, a French funambulist, magician and street performer, became entranced by the towers as a teenager and spent years planning the ultimate guerrilla performance art.

The movie does a brilliant job of laying out all the details in the manner of a thriller or a heist film. It shouldn't be suspenseful: we know how it ends. The 50-something Petit gleefully narrates throughout the film. But the viewer is caught up, in the same way that Petit's comrades must have been, by the details of "le coup" and the sheer outrageousness of it all.

As the plan gets more and more complicated, you become convinced that all involved are fools. A co-conspirator baldly admits that he got high the night before the event, that he smoked pot "every day for 35 years, so why should that day have been any different?"

Then one by one, Petit's friends describe how they realized, at different times, that their grand adventure could also be considered assisted suicide. Only one person dropped out because of his misgivings.

I wondered how director James Marsh would present the wire-walking itself, as there is no film footage of Petit on the wire, only still photography. But the photos are unforgettable.

In one picture taken just before the walk, Petit's eyes are huge and his face is like stone. He looks completely terrified.

Halfway across, Petit realizes that the wire is sound and that the thing can actually be done, that he might live through it. A friend of Petit who assisted with the rigging chokes up on the screen as he recalls this moment, when Petit's face lit up, "and we knew he would be all right."

Then there is another photo of Petit on the wire, grinning with what looks like sheer delight. It's the most moving part of the film.

Reality does intrude on the fairy tale; you can't keep it at bay. Several times I resisted the urge to nudge my young companions and whisper: I was there, I walked down that concourse once, I stood on that observation deck, and all of it is gone.

There was a horrid moment at the start of the film where suddenly I was looking at a pit full of rubble. I felt betrayed. I'd read that the movie didn't refer to the destruction of the towers at all, so what was this??

After a second or two, I saw that the footage was obviously old, that what we were viewing was construction, not devastation. Shots of the towers as they rose were paired with pictures of Petit as a child, climbing things and doing magic tricks.

Everyone who witnessed the sky walk seems to run out of words trying to describe it. Even the police sergeant being interviewed for television about Petit's arrest is a fascinating study. He appears to be trying to speak soberly and according to procedure, but he just can't do it. With a deadpan expression, he refers to the "tightrope dancer... because what he was doing, you just couldn't call it walking."

As Petit was put into a police car, to be hauled off for booking and a psychiatric review, reporters shoved microphones into the open window, demanding, "Why did you do it?" Petit found the question amusing, and "very American." "There is no `why,'" he said, chuckling.

At some point during the movie, I stopped asking "Why?" and just appreciated the passion of the man, crazy or not.

Slumgullion by the sea

2008-07-30T22:10:00.000-07:00

Mo's Restaurant
Florence, OR

I'd planned to have a big bowl of clam chowder for lunch. But why just have chowder when you can dine upon slumgullion?

It sounds like something from "Jabberwocky," but results from a little Web-surfing indicate that slumgullion is any sort of thin, hodgepodge stew, usually with beef.

Mo's menu helpfully adds that their version of slumgullion is "chowder with shrimp." I tasted clams and some smokiness (bacon?), and the bowl was topped with a small mountain of plump shrimp. Little slicks of melted butter converged around the edge of the bowl. All it needed was some crumbled saltine crackers. Filling and satisfying.

Sandboarding

2008-07-30T21:39:00.000-07:00

Heceta Head Beach, on the southern Oregon coast

Leisurely lunch

2008-07-28T22:16:00.000-07:00

35th Street Bistro
Seattle, WA

After wandering the Fremont neighborhood, I turned in at the 35th Street Bistro for a late lunch. The room is high-ceilinged and airy, with abundant light from skylights and a wall of windows at the front. I sat in the bar and checked out the interesting variety of people at the other tables. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

If there's a salad with beets and goat cheese on the menu, I'm ordering it, and this one was both pretty and tasty. There was orange vinaigrette and a surprisingly small amount of butter lettuce, but it all worked out well.

I wanted to try a wine from the Willamette Valley, and the agreeable bartender offered me a sample, but it was too sweet. On his recommendation, I drank a soave that was well-matched to my pasta entree.

I chose the penne because I couldn't quite imagine a roasted-tomato sauce with English peas and grilled onions. It was an unusual flavor combination. It was also more than I could eat, and as I put up my fork in defeat, I was still trying to decide if it was a dish I would order again.

I wished I had a dining companion to badger into ordering some of the other entrees that excited my curiosity. Maybe I should have tried pan-seared halibut with pea vines. Or Wooly Pigs pork loin with wilted chard and eggplant caponata. And how long has it been since I've had a real croque monsieur?

I like a restaurant that leaves you wanting more.

Refueling

2008-07-28T21:03:00.000-07:00

"Coffee in Motion" served as breakfast one day when we wanted to get a quick start on the road outside of Portland, Oregon.

The red double-decker bus with "The London Eatery" painted in faded letters on the side used to serve corn dogs and fish 'n' chips.

The side of the bus says "seating on the upper level," but alas, this is no longer the case. It's strictly a drive-through.

We pulled up to the window for a "shot in the dark" -- a shot of espresso in a cup of brewed coffee - and a latte.

The menu also listed a six-shot, 44-ounce espresso drink. I can't even imagine that.

Why are there so few drive-up espresso stands on the East Coast, with its plethora of Starbucks outlets? The pace seems much slower here in the Northwest, both on the road and in the way people talk. Drive-throughs would seem to belong on the other coast, where everyone is much more frantic.

Looking at Fremont

2008-07-25T21:15:00.000-07:00

I spent my last morning in Seattle exploring Fremont, an interesting neighborhood near downtown. Fremont was once a center of the counterculture -- street signs say things like "Set your watch back five minutes," or "Throw away your watch" -- and now it's somewhat gentrified. But there's still some things you wouldn't expect.

Two Lolas

2008-07-23T21:15:00.000-07:00

Lola Bistro
2058 E. 4th St.
Cleveland

Lola
2000 4th Ave
Seattle

I'm going to cheat a little here because I've been meaning to write about both of these restaurants for quite a while. The only thing they have in common is their name: Lola. Well, that and a commitment to using the best local ingredients to re-create classic food traditions.

Lola Bistro, in Cleveland, is headed by Michael Symon, the newest Iron Chef on the Food Network. Symon describes his cooking style as "farm-driven American." Every dish we tried had an interesting quirk, something that I expect you wouldn't find anywhere else.

B and I shared one of Lola's signature dishes, beef cheek pierogie with wild mushrooms and horseradish creme fraiche. Pierogies are Slavic comfort food, dumplings commonly stuffed with cheese, potato or meat. It was funny to see one served in a white-tablecloth restaurant with all the trappings of an haute hors d'oeuvre. But this pierogi -- larger than most; they're not usually served in the singular -- was luscious and rich, not at all out of place.

I 'd never tasted roasted fennel soup, and it wasn't especially appealing when it arrived at the table, rather muddy brown. But the flavor was earthy and comforting, and before I knew it the bowl was empty.

I love hanger steak -- at least in part because it's usually served with fries -- so it was no stretch to try Lola's. But "hanger steak with pickle sauce"? Again, my expectations were confounded. There was no green on the plate at all, but with every bite of meat came a trace of dill and sweet relish. Maybe "pickle juice" would be more appropriate, but no one reading the menu wants to think of a steak suspended in pickle brine.

The "Lola fries" were flagrantly addictive. B seemed alarmed at the way I was devouring them and kept moving the metal cup full of frites out of my reach -- as if he could stop me, ha ha!

B also enjoyed his duck entree, which included roasted breast, confit and pickled cherries. But I kept going back to that hanger steak.

Our dessert was obviously created by someone with a good sense of humor - not surprising, if you've ever heard chef Symon's manic laugh.

This is the "6 AM Special:" French toast served with maple-bacon ice cream and caramelized apples. Yes, bacon ice cream. Believe it or not, it was delicious. Don't you pour syrup on your bacon when you're having it with pancakes? Sure you do.

Chef Tom Douglas' Lola, in Seattle, is a re-imagining of Mediterranean cuisine, highlighting the foods of the Northwest US. So there are kebabs served with rice and pita, but the skewers hold grilled squid or sockeye salmon or Pacific prawns, in addition to lamb or beef.

When the server told me that the day's soup was puree of roasted fennel with fig, I had to try it. I had a hard time imagining those flavors together, but it was a revelation.

The puree looked like a latte in the cup, with a wonderful spicy licorice aroma and a swirl of pureed figs thoughout. A few roasted chopped hazelnuts on top added crunch, and the surprise at the bottom was a whole fig, soft and chewy. With most dishes, you stop really tasting them about halfway through, but this soup had me pondering the mix of flavors through the last spoonful.

The generous portion of squid kebab was tender and very spicy, seasoned with crushed chilis and chermoula. I needed the cooling yogurt sauce that was served on the side. Cucumber-tomato salad often seems like an afterthought on the plate, but this one was nicely minty, with just enough mild dry feta cheese in the mix.

I thought I wasn't hungry enough for another course, but I couldn't resist an apricot crostada with ginger- marigold ice cream. The crostada tasted like the world's best PopTart -- perhaps the pastry chef would be insulted by the comparison, but I mean it as praise! -- tender pastry, crisp on top, lightly sugared, and filled with perfectly tart fruit.

The ice cream stumped me. It wasn't gingery at all. It tasted like... some kind of seed? I questioned my server, and she confirmed that I had been given the wrong flavor. It was sunflower-seed ice cream; tasty, but it didn't do a thing for the dessert. She promptly brought another scoop of ice cream, and that was amazing with the crostada. The sharpness of fresh ginger was mellowed by the herbal notes from the marigold.

It's probably good that I was dining alone for this meal. I was so fascinated by the food that I doubt I could have made much conversation.

Inside Pike Place Market

2008-07-21T23:32:00.000-07:00

Pike Place Market is a Seattle landmark and a very large place filled with strange and yummy things, so B and I signed on with a Savor Seattle walking tour, to learn and munch.

Stephanie, our charming guide, wore a microphone that broadcast directly to tour members' earphones. This allowed her to speak to all of us in a normal tone of voice, and we could hear her clearly over the market bustle, without disrupting the scene.

We tasted smoked salmon at Pike Place Fish, ducking the famous flying fish as they hurtled by. The folks here claim that the fish-throwing started simply as a way of getting business done faster, but I think they just wanna throw fish.

We also visited the 90-year-old Market Spice. We sampled their famous orange spice tea and a seasoning mix dubbed Healthy Heart (it's salt-free), which worked quite well as a savory appetizer or a sweet when mixed into cream cheese and served on a cracker.

We could smell the deliciousness emanating from the Russian bakery Piroshky, Piroshky long before it came in sight. The cute fish-shaped piroshky stuffed with smoked salmon was good, but the more traditional potato-onion-cheese piroshky was my favorite. I wished I could try one of the dessert varieties, but all those little bites were already adding up.

At Beecher's Handmade Cheese, workers were mixing and salting the curds in this huge vat as we peered from the sidewalk through the large window. "Twenty-four hours ago, this was grass," Stephanie announced as she passed around tastes of Beecher's Flagship cheddar.

The award- winning New England clam chowder at Pike Place Chowder was tasty, but to my surprise, I preferred the vegan "Lime in 'd Coconut" chowder. I licked the last of it from the inside of the shot-glass-sized plastic cup and made plans to come back for lunch. There are at least half a dozen chowder varieties on the menu each day -- smoked-salmon chowder, hmm -- and the indecisive can get a sampler of four.

Our last bite was this perfectly sized triple coconut cream pie from Etta's Seafood, the original restaurant opened by Tom Douglas, one of Seattle's top chefs. It would have been a good place to have lunch, after our tour broke up, but who could eat at this point?

Advice for the day

2008-07-21T19:33:00.000-07:00

A bit more descriptive than your average traffic sign.

NE 45th St near Roosevelt Way NE
University District, Seattle

Serious pizza

2008-07-21T19:27:00.001-07:00

Serious Pie
316 Virginia
Seattle, WA

This restaurant is one of five headed by Seattle chef Tom Douglas, who is known for using local ingredients in creative ways. He's published three cookbooks and won the James Beard Award for Best Northwest chef in 1994.

Serious Pie is Douglas' newest restaurant, and it's all about the 'za. The first thing you see when you walk in is a large wood-burning oven, sheathed in stone. The dining room itself is rather cave-like, all brown and black. The seats are high leather stools, comfortable enough once you get up into them, but a little disconcerting for children, drunks and height-challenged folk.

While we waited for our pies, we shared plates of duck salumi and bruschetta. There were two bruschetta toppings; the combination of cherries and crescenza (a soft cow's-milk cheese) was good, but I preferred the pairing of figs and lardo (pig fat cured with rosemary and other spices).
The pizzas had an excellent crust, like a very good bread. The special of the day involved beet greens and copacola (a cured meat made from pork), with a translucent crust of cheese.

We also tried a pie with roasted morels, aurgula pesto and cacio (cheese). The morels and pesto were both very strong flavors; even B thought they were overwhelming. I was glad to share; a whole pie would have been too much. C said, "It looks like a landscape."

The next day, when I asked E and C what they wanted for dinner, they said, "Serious Pie!"

Photos from the road

2008-07-20T22:52:00.000-07:00

Somewhere off I-90, near La Crosse, WI

Badlands National Park, SD

Kadoka, SD

Custer State Park, SD
(Yes, that guy is on a bike.)

Yellowstone National Park

Going-to-the-Sun Road
Glacier National Park, MT

Summer bounty

2008-07-19T22:18:00.000-07:00

The University District farmers' market is Seattle's oldest and largest "farmers-only" market, comprising some 50 farmers and operating year-round.

The market was busy at the opening hour, and I enjoyed walking slowly through the displays. I tried tayberries, which I'd never seen before. They look like elongated raspberries, with the soft core of a blackberry. (They're a cross between the two, I learned.) The large green globes are gooseberries.

It was just a quick visit, but I managed to sample two other foods that were new to me: albacore tuna jerky (really tasty, better than beef!) and chocolate chip sharp cheddar cheese (better than it sounds, just a hint of chocolate).

In the middle of the market, I saw a sign with a picture of the Eiffel Tower, the single word "crepes," and an arrow, so I hurried right over. Anita, the owner of the stand, was still setting up, and we had to wait while she darted into the market to purchase a few ingredients, but the result was definitely worth the wait.

I had ham, spinach, egg and cheese on a buckwheat crepe. The egg was soft-cooked from the heat of the griddle, the yolk still runny, which normally would not have pleased me, but the taste was so fresh that I didn't care.

Anita mentioned that the egg came from a pullet, a hen less than a year old. A bit of Web-surfing finds some suggestions that pullet eggs are more flavorful, and that they tend to have a greater proportion of white to yolk, but I couldn't really verify any of this.

Best antidote

2008-07-16T21:58:00.000-07:00

Zao Noodle Bar
University Village, Seattle

It was a grey, chilly morning in Seattle, and my nose was still stuffy from a week-long cold. The chili beef ramen at Zao Noodle Bar turned out to be the perfect antidote.

I sat at the bar and watched the chefs toss noodles in flaming wok-sized skillets, a few feet away. The broth was warming, and I could feel the spicy heat in my mouth.

The grilled beef strips were a little overdone, but the broth revived them. The vegetables, on the other hand -- shredded carrots, cabbage and bean sprouts -- were just right, not too raw and not overcooked.

Later that afternoon, my sense of taste suddenly returned, as if somewhere a switch had been thrown.

Foodie farm heaven

2008-07-11T11:40:00.000-07:00

The Herbfarm
Woodlinville, WA

If your idea of a good restaurant experience is to look at the menu, choose your food, eat it, and go home, then don't go to The Herbfarm.

But if it would interest you to know that the morels on your plate arrived unexpectedly at the kitchen door just hours ago, and you would enjoy a leisurely nine-course meal created from locally grown, seasonal foods, then The Herbfarm might be a little bit of heaven.

This is dining as theater: The staff line up for their introductions (after your first course is served, thankfully) in front of a red velvet curtain, which then opens with a flourish to display the pristine kitchen. It would be a little silly if not for the sincere enthusiasm of the players, beginning with the server who offered us a choice of aromatic herbs to scent our sparkling wine.

The restaurant exudes warmth and coziness: a realistic gas fireplace, lush Victorian decor, and homey mismatched table settings. Everything is for sale, although the pitch didn't really detract from our evening.

I was tempted to curl up in the comfortable armchair in the ladies' room and peruse the stack of interesting children's books placed there. ("Babar's Yoga for Elephants," "When Pigasso Met Mootisse.")

We opted for a communal table and met two other couples, one of whom was also driving cross-country and had visited some of the same parks and monuments as we did. One diner at our table enjoyed herbal cocktails instead of the six paired wines served to the rest of us; they looked lovely, and I wished I could ask for a taste.

Here's our menu for the evening, with pictures of most courses:

Dungeness crab chawan mushi with shiso and smoked steelhead caviar, tomato gel with marjoram creme fraiche and crispy fennel, rillette of rabbit glazed with apricot and lemon thyme gastrique

Kodiak Island weathervane scallops with salt-herring brandade, Oregon white truffles, Herbfarm bunching onions, and basil tips

Slowly roasted sockeye salmon with sea asparagus, bok choy, and foie gras emulsion

Crisped breast of guinea fowl with duckling agnolotti, caraway thyme, and Oregon blonde morels

Anderson Ranch pastured lamb, lavender-crusted loin and 24-hour-braised breast, sweet peas and turnips on gratin of roasted garlic and potato

House-smoked Berkshire pork neck with Mt. Townsend Creamery Trailhead Tomme, roasted asparagus, and sweet and sour blueberries

"Flavors from Mr. McGregor's garden:" chamomile and lemon verbena panna cotta with carrot sorbet

"Comforts for a July evening:" Wenatchee peach and strawberry layer cake with apricot-anise hyssop sauce and Bing cherry ice cream

Spearmint shortbread, lavender palmiers, bay-caramel milk chocolate truffles, angelica-chartreuse chocolate truffles, and white chocolate knackerli.

A welcome stop along the way

2008-07-09T21:30:00.000-07:00

Yellow Church Cafe
Ellensburg, WA

The best part about traveling with some flexibility in your schedule is finding an unexpected treat like this great little restaurant.

(It helps if you have a wireless Internet card for you laptop computer, allowing you to surf for restaurant reviews as your driving partner cruises the interstate.)

The Yellow Church Cafe was built as a Lutheran church in 1923. It's been many things since then; now it's owned by Gordy and Cathy Wallen, both "PKs" (preachers' kids), who are happy to have given this place a new life.

B had a well-prepared ahi tuna salad. The fish was not overcooked, still a little rare in the center, but not sushi temperature. I had a mandarin tuna salad sandwich on very good bread and the freshest side salad with a tart mandarin orange vinaigrette.

The menu claims that the homemade "Heavenly Loaf" has "addicting powers." The cheesy, garlicky slices certainly disappeared from our table.

Foodie find on a tourist strip

2008-07-05T21:49:00.000-07:00

Sydney's Mountain Bistro
West Yellowstone, MT

I wouldn't expect to find anything remotely bistro-like on a street lined with souvenir stands and fast-food outlets. But reviews on the Web site TripAdvisor led us to Sidney's, and we enjoyed our Fourth of July dinner very much.

My favorite dish was this Thai calamari appetizer. I think I appreciated it all the more because we hadn't had anything spicy or Asian for several weeks. It had just the right amount of chili heat to counteract the sweet dressing. The calamari were tender but small, so there was a little more breading than I would have wished for. The whole plate was very visually appealing, with its colorful mixture of cabbage and bell peppers.

I also liked the presentation of the scallops wrapped in prosciutto and topped with basil pesto. B thought the combination of flavors was great, but the pesto was a little overwhelming for me.

We shared a huge salad of pears, arugula and spiced pecans, and an entree of beautifully cooked salmon with sweet chili sauce. I can recommend the Salmon Fly Honey Rye beer from the Madison River Brewing Company.

The service was warm and efficient, and the kitchen was happy to send out plates of plain pasta or chicken fingers for the kids. Reviewers suggested that there wasn't much of a dessert menu, and we had eaten too well to appreciate sweets, anyway. Besides, there's a Dairy Queen right next door, and stands selling Montana huckleberry ice cream all over the block.

Everything you need

2008-07-04T21:58:00.000-07:00

This compact store in West Yellowstone, Montana, has all the essentials, don't you think?

The woman at the window on the Fourth of July was very pleasant, even when five people in a row looked at the ice cream flavors and asked, "What's `Stuck in a Rut'?" (It's French vanilla ice cream with a caramel swirl and chopped chocolate-covered caramels.)

I chose Cream Coffee & Chocolate, which turned out to be very good coffee ice cream with a fudge swirl. B had espresso (the drink, not ice cream). We skipped the jerky.

What we saw @ the fireworks store

2008-07-01T20:08:00.000-07:00

Fireworks Factory Outlet
Cody, WY

Roller coaster rave

2008-06-25T12:10:00.000-07:00

My family went to Cedar Point just about every summer throughout my childhood, and I still think it's the best amusement park anywhere.

The most exciting of Cedar Point's 17 roller coasters is the newest, Millennium Force. This visit was my first ride. As the train climbs the 310-foot hill, you have plenty of time to enjoy a superlative view of Lake Erie. Then you nose-dive. I know it's not straight down, but it might as well be.

This coaster was smooth and felt faster than any other roller coaster I've tried, possibly because the seats are so exposed. You feel as though you're sitting on top of the tracks, with nothing around you, just a seatbelt keeping you from launching into orbit.

B and I had different opinions about the Maverick, probably because I am shorter than he is. Signs along the line recommend removing all earrings. None of the other folks with visible piercings seemed concerned, but I took mine out and was glad that I did. This coaster wants to buck you off at every turn.

Maverick didn't so much bank as pitch and roll, sharply. If you're 5'3", like me, you get boxed in the ear by the padded headrest; if you're 6', like B, you exit with a sore neck. Still, I'd go on it again, just for the feeling of swooping and diving like a raptor.

The best part of Top Speed Dragster may be the anticipation. As you wait in your seat for the warning lights to turn yellow, then green, the whole car vibrates with revving engine sounds. A voice barks at you to keep your arms down and head back. I'm sure mine wasn't the only pulse accelerating at this point.

Then "tires" squeal, and in a second you are firing off at a face-flapping speed. The next second (OK, not literally, but it all blurs together) the car shoots straight up, spirals once, and slows a bit to go over the top. Breathe, and scream now, because you're hurtling back down, rolling as you go. Then the car slows; that's it. Wipe the wind-driven tears out of your eyes and grin idiotically at the people still waiting in line, checking your reaction as you return to the loading platform.

These were the best three of the seven coasters I rode. I also liked the Raptor and the Magnum X-L 200. And the Blue Streak is still fun after 40-some years. But I can't recommend the Mantis. It's an awesome tangle of track, and the stand-up ride is different, makes you feel like Superman. But it was rough. There is no way to keep your head from whanging off the padded headrests for most of the trip. As we pulled back into the station, the big guy sitting next to me moaned, "And WHY did we do this??"

I have an inexplicable fondness for this ridiculous ride, the maXair. It's seemingly designed to produce nausea. The round seating area spins slowly, and the whole thing swings like a pendulum 'til you think you're going over the top. I never get sick on rides, and this one makes my stomach do loop-de-loops. But for some reason, that's fun.

Crossing the country

2008-06-24T21:27:00.000-07:00

This vivid double rainbow appeared the night before my family and I set out on a cross-country adventure.

We are driving across the U.S. over six weeks, setting out from Maryland and arriving in Palo Alto, Calif., around the beginning of August.

We'll visit relatives along the way and stop in some beautiful places: Yellowstone National Park, Mount Rushmore, the Badlands of South Dakota, Glacier National Park, the Columbia River gorge, and more.

North Ridgeville, Ohio, 6/23/08

This is my third drive from the Midwest/Mid-Atlantic to the West Coast and back again. The first time, I was 13 years old, and I spent 7 weeks with my parents and brother in a 28-foot motorhome.

On the second trip, my husband and I were newlyweds with a bundle of maps and a red convertible. That was 14 years ago.

This time, we're driving a hybrid SUV with two children in the back seat. We have two cell phones, two laptops, a GPS receiver, four Nintendo hand-helds, and two Kindles (a great electronic reader sold by Amazon. I had to buy a second one because I couldn't get the first one away from my kids.)

Just a fantasy

2008-06-22T16:27:00.000-07:00

I've had this fantasy, too. Jane, we should have lunch sometime. I'll bring my favorite fine-point Sharpie...

Typos a la Carte, Ever A Specialty of the House
By Jane Black
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, June 18, 2008; F01

First in an occasional series of rants about dining out.
...In my fantasy, I enter a restaurant, order and sweetly ask the waiter if I can "hold on to the menu" during dinner. Then, using a distinctive purple pen, I discreetly copy-edit the descriptions of the dishes.

Caesar, not "caeser." Shiitake, not "shitake." Riesling, not "reisling" (though I'd quietly applaud restaurants that spell it wrong as long as the misspelling was consistent.)

"Who was that anonymous proofreader?" chefs would whisper to one another. Correct-a-girl strikes again! Eliminating menu mistakes, one restaurant at a time.

Read the rest of the rant here:

52,000 cupcakes? Sweet!

2008-04-24T14:28:00.000-07:00

Multiply this more than 3,000 times...

...and you can imagine the scale of this sugar masterpiece, made of 52,000 frosted cupcakes.

The display was created to mark the 10th anniversary of Maryland Day at the University of Maryland, College Park. It's a campus-wide open house, with all sorts of free entertainment and activities.

University representatives believe they may have set the world record for cupcakes served on a single day.

Dining Services staff baked and froze cupcakes for months prior to the big day. The cupcakes, iced in red, gold, brown and white, formed an image of the university seal, 24 feet in diameter, over 182 tables.

Volunteers arranged the cupcakes the night before the event, placing each cupcake in just the right color-coded spot. Set-up began around 9:30 pm and was completed by dawn.

At 10 am, university president C.D. (Dan) Mote, Jr. and his wife, Patsy Mote, handed out the first cupcakes.

Then the army of volunteer servers (myself included) sprang into action, removing cupcakes from the edges of the display, loading them on platters, and placing them on serving tables.

As each table was cleared of cupcakes, workers would remove the table, allowing us to reach further into the display.

When something is offered for free, people often start acting strangely. I'm not surprised when a child says, "No, I don't want the yellow one -- I want a RED one!" But an adult?

And I lost track of how many times I had to tell someone that I couldn't get them a chocolate-frosted cupcake, that the brown part of the design was still about four feet out of my reach.

Within a few hours, people were walking away with platters full of cupcakes. One enterprising woman loaded up a Tupperware "cake-taker" with more than a dozen cupcakes.

The day flew by. When the last cupcake disappeared into the crowd, around 4:15, a cheer went up under the now-empty tent. Weary servers discarded their cupcake aprons and finished off the last of the pizza provided for lunch.

Here's the University's press release about the cupcake extravaganza. In the overhead photo, I'm one of the people waving to the camera, farthest to the left.

That night, as I tried to fall asleep, I kept seeing swirls of yellow and red behind my closed eyelids.

Cool as glass

2008-04-14T21:10:00.000-07:00

Today I visited my favorite local Japanese restaurant, Matuba, and seated myself at the sushi bar for a quick lunch.

I ordered sashimi, and when it arrived, it looked so fresh and cool. The chef seemed amused when I pulled out my iPhone, and asked if he could see the photo.

As I was getting ready to leave, he bowed slightly and said, "Thank you for taking a picture of my food." Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. It was as delicious as it is beautiful. I savored every bite.

Fancy pants

2008-04-10T14:28:00.000-07:00

Hanging out with friends, sampling delicious foods, and dancing -- all to support a good cause. Can't have much more fun than that!

We had a great time at the Blue Jeans Ball, a fundraiser for the Capital Area Food Bank. Dozens of area chefs donated their time and their imagination, offering a wide range of dishes. And we didn't have to rent tuxedos or buy formal wear. (Not that I would have minded this much.)

Thanks to CC for helping me stalk and shoot this glittery, black-lace-and-blue-denim creation. Words alone couldn't do it justice.

My favorite dish was a "lobster scallop boudin" from the chefs at PS7. There was something pickled in this tasty little bite that made it irresistible.

I enjoyed the varied interpretations of the denim theme. I encountered this fringed grande dame several times in the dessert section, methodically moving from table to table.

The only place we didn't meet was at the Good Humor cart. You'd be surprised how many people, when offered mini banana cream pies, handmade truffles and hazelnut profiteroles, would rather have a Giant ice cream sandwich or a Strawberry Shortcake ice cream bar.

Modern sushi

2008-02-27T14:44:00.000-08:00

Sushi Damo
36-G Maryland Avenue
Rockville, Md.

I had not yet investigated the new portions of downtown Rockville, so I was happy to be invited out for a sushi luncheon here.

Sushi Damo is thoroughly modern, with a stark neutral décor, black and white with touches of orange. A birch-branch thicket serves as art along one wall.

Hot tea was served in a rough earthenware cup with swirling ridges on the sides that felt pleasant to the touch. The lunch special that day offered two courses for $10, soup and a bento box. The miso soup was a welcome dose of warmth on a chilly day, but it was a little bland.

I have a child-like admiration for bento, the pretty little treats arranged like jewels in a fancy lacquered box. This box contained salmon teriyaki, a green salad with grapes and pineapple, rice molded in a flower shape and sprinkled with black sesame seeds, salted steamed edamame, and California roll (sushi rice wrapped around crab stick, cucumber and avocado). Everything was tasty and attractive to the eye.

One of the special rolls on the menu that day had spicy crunchy salmon on the inside and lobster salad on the outside. The rolls were drizzled with a vivid blue-green sauce. My friend and I spent some time speculating about what ingredient might produce that vivid hue, and whether or not it would be something that we wished to eat. To our relief, the server described the dressing as “sweet wasabi,” made from wasabi paste, mayonnaise, and a touch of blue Curacao.

Sushi Damo is a spin-off of a Japanese restaurant in midtown Manhattan. Chef Takashi Okamura was previously at Makoto, a tiny gem of a restaurant renowed for its seasonal kaiseki menus.

Sushi Damo has a good selection of sakes, martinis, saketinis and other mixed drinks. Other reviews suggest that it is a popular night-time destination. There's a large movie theater within walking distance -- sounds like a good plan for a Saturday night.

Ice flowers

2008-02-21T15:01:00.001-08:00

Some photos taken in my front yard after last week's bout of "wintry mix," and a preview of what we're likely to see tomorrow.

Very pretty, as long as you're not trying to drive somewhere.

Stay home if you can, and make some hot cocoa.

Country retreat

2008-02-19T13:44:00.000-08:00

Claymont Court Mansion, Charles Town, WV

A few glimpses of Charles Town, WV, where I spent this past weekend. The occasion was a retreat at Claymont Court Mansion, a historic home built in 1820 by Bushrod Washington, George Washington's grand-nephew.

The ruined garden

It's not exactly wilderness, but I enjoyed spending some time in a place where the vistas stretch a little farther than a city block.

2941 still delights

2008-02-05T20:44:00.000-08:00

Photo courtesy of 2941 Restaurant

2941 Restaurant
2941 Fairview Park Drive
Falls Church, Virginia

2941 has been one of my favorite restaurants for several years, and I was dismayed to learn that its imaginative young chef, Jonathan Krimm, had left last fall to seek out a new venue.

I am pleased to report that the new chef, Bertrand Chemel, is putting his own delicious stamp on the place. A recent lunch menu presented me with the same happy dilemma that I always have at 2941: How do I choose among all of these intriguing options?

Lunch offerings include a three-course prix fixe menu for $29.41. It was a bitterly cold day, so I chose to start with soup. The menu read "butternut squash soup, apple compote, ginger lime cream, lemongrass," and I wasn't sure what to expect from that.

The bright yellow soup arrived in a shallow white bowl, looking for all the world like a sliced hard-boiled egg. At the bottom of the bowl was a gray emulsion that turned out to be the lemongrass. The combination was very fresh, and the soup had a lovely foamy texture.

The menu listed the ingredients of my main course -- Nantucket Bay scallops, sweet potato puree, romaine hearts, bacon vinaigrette -- but the list doesn't do the dish justice. The scallops were luscious, and the red-tipped romaine added color and height to the plate.

I finished my meal with a gratin of Bartlett pear. Tiny madeleines were a nice touch, but the best part of dessert was the spiced sabayon, flavored with anise. I wanted more of the mascarpone ice cream; the scoop on my plate would barely have filled the bowl of the demitasse spoon that came with my espresso.

Service tends to be leisurely, at both lunch and dinner, but the dining room is a comfortable place to relax and look around. One wall of the double-height main room is floor-to-ceiling glass, looking out on a koi pond and a small lake. There's plenty to admire indoors as well: two fireplaces, an eclectic art collection, and light fixtures that resemble glowing, hovering orange jellyfish.

A Guinness by the fireplace

2008-01-27T15:38:00.000-08:00

Corned beef & cabbage usually isn't pretty, but Paula Deen and
the Food Network stylists make it so.

P.J. McIntyre's Irish Pub
17119 Lorain Road
Cleveland, Ohio

We'd missed lunch and it was almost dinner time, so we were looking for a rib-sticking meal on a damp, grey Sunday afternoon. We found it at P.J. McIntyre's, a warm, welcoming Irish pub. Our party of four sat by the glowing fire, in a cozy corner booth, and admired the stacked-stone fireplace and the ceiling that looked like pressed tin, the color of a shiny penny.

We all tried the corned beef, on a Reuben sandwich and on a plate with cabbage and garlic-mashed potatoes. It was the best corned beef any of us could remember having: very lean yet juicy, and just salty enough. And I'm usually not that crazy about cabbage, but this version had some texture, and a nice roasted flavor.

The lobster bisque was wonderful, rich and creamy with a surprising amount of lobster meat. We also enjoyed the Guinness beef stew, which was full of lean meat.

If you haven't tried it, draft Guinness beer is quite different from the stuff in cans; it's creamy, and not so smoky. I also enjoyed a draft Smithwick's red Irish ale.

It's hard to believe that this place used to be an appliance store. There are pretty stained-glass panels around the fireplace, and comfortable wood booths, with padded stools pulled up to the tables. It was quiet that afternoon, but I can easily imagine the place filled with sports fans watching the big screen, or live music on the weekend.

Hearty welcome on a cold night

2008-01-21T16:43:00.000-08:00

Brasserie Beck
1101 K Street NW
Washington, DC

It was a bitterly cold night, just the right time to visit Brasserie Beck. The menu is full of hearty Belgian and French specialties -- cassoulet, choucroute, beef carbonnade, duck confit -- things I can't even imagine eating during warm weather.

Perusing the beer menu

We started out by sharing an order of mussels cooked in garlic and white wine. You can also have mussels cooked with curry and apples or with fennel and chorizo sausage. The side order of crisp, well-seasoned frites came with three mayonnaise-based dipping sauces: plain, something tomatoey, and a mild curry dip. (I had no idea that Belgians were so interested in curry.)

Paging through the inch-thick beer menu is both a literary and a sensory experience. Even if you're unfamiliar with Belgian beers, the names are delightful: Delirium Tremens, Gouden Carolus Ambrio, Floris Witt, Cantillon de Gambrinus. Detailed tasting notes make it hard to choose just one.

Hoegaarden wheat beer was spicy and dry, and it went well with the mussels. But the most intriguing beer of the night was the Duchesse de Bourgogne, a traditional Flemish red ale. The flavor was almost like wine, very intense, rich and fruity.

Our entree was cassoulet for two. The dish came to the table in a heavy porcelain-covered pot and was served into smaller matching serving ware, which probably helped keep it warm. The white beans were meltingly soft, perfectly cooked.

Also inside the pot were some braised pork belly, duck confit, and house-made lamb sausage. Even for two, it was a hefty portion, so satisfying that we couldn't even think about dessert.

The only less-than-intriguing item on the menu was an appetizer described as "liver parfait with ruby red port glaze." I almost ordered it just to see what would appear. Call it fois gras and it would be more approachable, don't you think?

I didn't really need an escort to find the restroom, but the friendly, well-dressed hostess took it upon herself to walk with me as she pointed me in the right direction, and she seemed genuinely interested in whether I was enjoying my dinner.

Another time, I'd like to order the cheese course and ask the beer sommelier for some recommendations. And the massive chef's table facing the exhibition kitchen would be a great setting for a winter celebration.

Pasta like it's 1969

2008-01-15T22:54:00.000-08:00

www.italianhomerecipes.com

Corso's Italian Restaurant
29691 Lorain Road
North Olmsted, OH

The dining room at Corso's reminded me immediately of my first "grown-up" restaurant, where I went on the occasion of my sixth birthday. (There was no prime rib on the children's menu, so I was allowed to order it off the regular menu, and I ate every bite, then got indignant when the waitress insisted that my daddy must have helped me.)

Black vinyl chairs and booths, rough white plaster walls, green tablecloths, a faux grape arbor over the bar -- not much appears to have changed over the years. Except this used to be a Hungarian restaurant named Szarca's, which explains the "Hungarian Wienerschnitzel" and paprikash on the otherwise traditional Italian menu.

Many of the diners who came out on an icy weeknight were ordering the spaghetti dinner special ($7.95 on Monday and Tuesday, $9.95 the rest of the week), a huge plate of pasta and red sauce, with generous, nicely seasoned meatballs.

I also tried the veal parmigiana ($17.99), which arrived swimming in tomato sauce and cheese. But underneath was a tender cut of meat, not a pressed veal patty, and the sauce tasted homemade.

Meals came with a simple salad of crisp Romaine and iceberg, shredded cheese, and a good creamy Italian dressing. About half of the wine list consisted of the usual, commonly available American wines. Most of the rest were Italian, but I also spotted a German Piesporter and a New Zealand sauvignon blanc.

The dinner menu also included fried chicken, filet mignon (the most expensive item at $19.99), barbecued pork ribs, broiled scrod, and crab-stuffed flounder.

Service was efficient, and waitresses chatted comfortably with the guests. Leftovers were packaged in white boxes, stacked and wrapped in cellophane like one of those gift towers from Harry and David.

Just curious: Why does "al dente" pasta require a $1 surcharge, according to the menu? Doesn't al dente mean you cook it less?

Austin airport limits

2008-01-02T14:11:00.000-08:00

If you have to be stuck in an airport for 3+ hours*, Austin is not a bad place to be. I found interesting food, curious souvenirs, good books, and decent coffee. And the music playing through the place made me want a playlist: mostly blues and country, nothing I could identify, definitely not Muzak or top-40.

At Schlotzsky’s Deli, B had an Original sandwich, which consisted of ham and salami; melted cheddar, mozzarella, and Parmesan cheeses; garlic butter, olives, onions, tomatoes and lettuce, topped with a vinegar hot sauce. All of this was served on a good chewy roll, a little like a foccacia.

I wandered by the improbably named Waterloo Ice House, the home of “breakfast, beer, burgers.” Indeed, I spotted single-serving cups of breakfast cereal, granola bars, Coors on tap, and several kinds of burgers, chicken sandwiches, tacos and more.

The rest of us dined at the Wok ‘n Roll, which an electronic billboard noted was “family owned.” The lure was the fresh-looking buffet, which allowed me to pick up steamed rice and fresh fruit for my choosy little traveling companions, plus my favorite fast-food indulgence, “General Tso’s chicken,” that deep fried, spicy-sweet stuff that’s never the same twice. When I told the genial man behind the counter that I was looking for chicken with broccoli, he suggested that I come back in a few minutes for a fresh batch. The broccoli was nicely cooked, still bright green, and the chicken was tender. Even my sauce-hating eldest child had a few bites and allowed that it wasn’t bad.

All four of us loved Amy’s Ice Creams. I had a “tiny” (reasonably sized) cup of “pineapple upside-down cake” ice cream, loaded with chunks of yellow cake and maraschino cherries. I was intrigued by the“white lightning” flavor, but the guy behind the counter wasn’t certain what “contains alcohol” meant. He thought it might mean rum, which was about the last thing I needed in my time-zoned, altitude-adjusted state. There were four kinds of vanilla: sweet cream, Mexican vanilla, “just vanilla,” and honey vanilla. I was tempted to ask for a vanilla sampler. The Belgian chocolate was rich and decadent, like a good chocolate bar. E’s raspberry sorbet was bright as the berry and full of seeds, proof of its authenticity.

The non-chain bookstore had quite a bit more than the usual airport assortment of self-improvement, spy-thriller and mass-market religious titles. I could easily have picked up an interesting book or three, but my carry-on bag was already stocked.

I couldn’t think of any justification for these porcelain wiener dogs. They looked sheepish.

I followed signs for an art exhibit and finally found it stashed behind a gift store, facing the restrooms. There were photographs and paintings by local artists. I think they deserve a better location.

* Why was I stuck in Austin? We’d just been skiing at Copper Mountain, Colorado, and our non-stop flight home from Denver had been cancelled. The airline rebooked us through Austin. At least we got home on the same day, albeit a little later than we’d planned. Other people were more greatly inconvenienced.

A bit of France in northeast Ohio

2007-12-19T14:02:00.000-08:00

Owner Georges and owner-chef Claudie, courtesy of Le Bistro du Beaujolais

Le Bistro du Beaujolais
8134 Columbia Road
Olmsted Falls, Ohio

A cozy restaurant serving delicious French food is a great find anytime. Finding one in a quiet suburb, next door to a gas station and across the street from the Discount Drug Mart, is somehow even more delightful.

The co-owners of Le Bistro du Beaujolais say that they chose this little yellow house, built in 1830, for their restaurant because it reminded them of France. "The surroundings are also true to form of the heart of a French city, where people actually walk in the streets," they write on their Web site.

Main dining room, courtesy of Le Bistro du Beaujolais

The last time I ate here, it was a cold, raw night, and the French onion soup was the perfect antidote. The broth was dark and rich and beefy, the bread was still crisp and there was just enough cheese. My mother had a delicious cream of broccoli soup. Our host, the charming Georges, accused her of licking her bowl clean, and every plate thereafter. (We were very hungry.)

For the second course, I ate cote de porc et sa sauce a la chataigne, a thick roasted pork chop with chestnut sauce. Chestnuts are another wintertime bonus, and they make an unctuous sauce, almost (but not quite) too rich. Crusty browned potatoes and a simple assortment of vegetables rounded out the plate. Mom had grilled mahi mahi, served with a three-pepper salsa and rice pilaf.

Next time I would try magret de canard aux noisettes pralinees, grilled duck breast with a homemade hazelnut praline; or escalopine de veau a l'orange, veal scaloppini with creamy orange sauce.

Desserts are ideally sized, big enough to seem like a splurge, small enough that we didn't feel compelled to split anything. Both of us were well satisfied with the chocolate raspberry bavarois, a creamy molded custard.

Monsieur Georges unhesitatingly recommended glasses of Beaujolais to accompany our entrees, and we appreciated his advice. We thawed and revived and drank toasts, to a new baby born that day, and to other absent family members who were on our minds and in our hearts that night.

The best hot-fudge sundae in the world...

2007-11-24T07:11:00.001-08:00

Malley's Chocolates
23473 Lorain Road
North Olmsted, Ohio

...is served in a pink-and-green ice-cream parlor in a suburb west of Cleveland.

Malley's has provided wonderful chocolates and ice cream to Clevelanders since the 1930s. It's a family-run organization, now in its third generation.

The hot fudge topping comes to your table in a small glass pitcher. You can add as much as you like, and the fudge stays warm until you're ready to eat it.

I don't know what the secret is, but this topping is the smoothest, fudgiest ice cream treat I've ever had.

There's always a bowl of pretzels on the table -- good for scooping up the last drops of fudge. I still love to sit at one of the tables on the slowly rotating carousel in the center of the store.

There are more exotic chocolates out there (and I can tell you where to order some!), but Malley's makes the best milk-chocolate Easter bunnies. Try the Pretzel Crunch bar, too.

A Thanksgiving feast

2007-11-22T19:23:00.000-08:00

Plum-glazed roast turkey* and gravy
Sausage cornbread dressing
Baked sweet potatoes
Green bean casserole
Brussels sprouts with orange zest
Macaroni and cheese with peas
Cranberry sauce
Sticky buns
Corn muffins
Roederer Estate Anderson Valley Brut sparkling wine

And a pumpkin roll cake from Clementine's for dessert!

*The plum glaze was made with Chinese plum sauce, honey, soy sauce, orange marmalade, fresh ginger, fresh garlic, and orange zest.

Le Paradou: Quiet fireworks

2007-09-23T14:36:00.000-07:00

Le Paradou
678 Indiana Avenue, NW
Washington, DC

Le Paradou promises the diner an “adventure in intense flavors.” This is no hype. There were definitely some moments of "wow" during our six-course tasting menu.

The intimate, comfortable room sets the scene for a fine meal, with a ceiling of tiny white lights like stars overhead. Service is on the formal side, a little stiff. Our server seemed amused that we would order the six-course tasting menu without asking what dishes were included, but I was content to put myself in the hands of chef Yannick Cam for the evening.

The wine list was voluminous, the size of my hometown's phone book, and pricey. The sommelier suggested a white Loire viognier to complement the seafood and quail on our menu. The Condrieu was a very good choice with our food, rich and complex enough to stand up to the array of flavors.

An amuse-buche was placed before us, a chilled cucumber soup bathing a single oyster and a dollop of caviar. The combination was a little bit salty, a little bit sour.

Next on the table was a basket of spongy rich brioche, quite addictive with its crispy, melting crust. Then there was a second amuse: a "purse" filled with buttery roasted lobster, adorned with carrot-ginger sauce.

My favorite course was a ceviche of diver scallops sliced paper-thin, with grapefruit segments, Thai basil, and coconut milk. It was served on a dramatic round white plate with a shallow rectangular depression in the center that contained the liquid components.

Each forkful was a melange of distinct flavors, all playing nicely with each other. Hits of basil, grapefruit, or coconut rose to the palate, then faded to be replaced by another flavor. I didn't want to stop eating this dish, actually felt a little regretful as I savored the last bite.

Another impressive dish was the cream of artichoke soup with crab cake. The crab cake was almost star-shaped, a result of big crab chunks and very little filler, so little that I wondered how it was held together. The silky soup contained nearly translucent sliced artichoke hearts.

The startling thing about the entree of roasted sea bass was the savory green-pea puree that accompanied the fish. I expected the puree to be sweet, but it reminded me of the way my Austrian grandmother used to serve green peas, in a savory sauce made from a white roux. Poached oysters and black olives added more yummy salty bits to the plate.

We also had a course of fois gras, served with roasted plums and juniper berries. Somehow this combination of ingredients smelled like s'mores to me. (Of course, a lot of things remind me of s'mores.)

A restaurant reviewer who described the food at Le Paradou as "tiny explosions of flavor" (Washington City Paper) got it just right, I think. There's definitely some drama on the plate, yet this is not showy food. If you're not fazed by stern waiters, a dress code (jackets required for men), and a hefty tab at evening's end, you will enjoy Chef Cam's artistry.

This is me, blogging

2007-09-06T06:52:00.000-07:00

"Rhymes with Orange," 8/22/07

Thank you, Hilary Price, for a great laugh.

This is a quirky, catch-you-off-guard funny comic strip. Visit her Web site to see more.

Perfect picnic

2007-09-02T20:19:00.000-07:00

Isn't this the perfect plate for an end-of-summer dinner?

The ribs are courtesy of Geppetto's, the best in Cleveland. Plus there's A's baked beans, kartoffelsalat (German potato salad), and locally grown corn.

Save room for dessert: pound cake, strawberries, vanilla ice cream and whipped cream.

Thanks, Mom!

47 restaurants in 47 days: #31, Cold Stone Creamery

2007-09-02T19:53:00.000-07:00

Cake Batter Confetti™

Cold Stone Creamery
9 Town & Country Village, Palo Alto

I was just getting the kids some ice cream, wasn’t going to have any myself, but then I saw it: Cake Batter ice cream. Those of you who like to lick the bowl are paying attention now. I had a sample spoon, then came back later for a dish. It tastes EXACTLY like yellow-cake-mix batter. Totally artificial, totally irresistible.

The lavish buffet of mix-in ingredients is almost irrelevant. But for the record, you can add chunks of Snickers bars, crushed cookies, gummy candies, mini-marshmallows, chocolate chips, fudge sauce, or even… cubes of yellow cake.

The servers use paddles to fold your choice of mix-ins into the ice cream on a marble slab. Despite the cold stone, the ice cream softens a bit, which is just the way I like it.

I stopped to examine the take-home case and loved the look of the red velvet cake: candy-apple-red layers of cake, Cake Batter ice cream, white frosting and rainbow sprinkles. It looks like a party on a plate. It’s probably sweet enough to make your teeth ache. I want one for my next birthday. I feel like I’m eight years old.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #30, St. Michael's Alley

2007-08-16T16:48:00.000-07:00

St. Michael's Alley
430 Kipling St.
Palo Alto

I'd like to be a "regular" at a cozy little restaurant. A place where the food is always a treat, but not so upscale that you need to make reservations far in advance; the kind of restaurant where you could order by closing your eyes and pointing to the menu, knowing that whatever your finger lands on will be a delicious choice.

If I lived in Palo Alto full-time, St. Michael's Alley might be that restaurant for me. It's been around since 1959, according to my friendly waiter, in three different locations. It was the first restaurant in the area modeled after a European coffee house. The name comes from the owner's memories of a favorite London haunt, on an alley near St. Michael's Church.

The interior gracefully combines dark stone floors, sponged pale-peach walls, mismatched crystal chandeliers, bright abstract canvases on the walls,and carved wooden sunbursts over the bar and the kitchen door.

I hesitated to ask for a table for one just 20 minutes before the end of lunch service, but I was warmly greeted and never rushed. The owner of the restaurant was relaxing at the bar with a glass of wine, dandling what must have been his baby grandson on his knee, while other relatives and acquaintances came and went.

There were several tempting things on the menu, but what sounded best right then was a nicoise salad with seared ahi tuna. I admit: I picked my wine by the name. But the Page Mill Chardonnay turned out to be a good match for my salad. (Page Mill is the name of a very busy road that runs through PA. The founders of the winery live nearby in Los Altos Hills.) I'm no wine expert, but the wine list seemed more creative than most, with reds and whites humorously divided by price into "up to 40," "forty-something," "50s," and "60 to the moon."

All of the dishes seem unfussy and familiar: an "ABC" burger with avocado, bacon and jack cheese; a savory tart; chicken Waldorf salad with roasted pear and candied walnuts; fresh potato gnocchi.

My summer stay in PA is coming to a close, so I won't be able to sample the half-dozen other items that caught my eye. (The menu changes with the seasons.) I can imagine a leisurely weekend brunch here, or a romantic weekend dinner for two, or even a weekday meal en famille. I'm sure the pleasant staff would quickly make me feel like a regular.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #29, Zibibbo

2007-08-16T16:34:00.000-07:00

Zibibbo
430 Kipling Street, Palo Alto

Zibibbo has become our restaurant of choice when we have an out-of-town visitor to entertain. Or when we're meeting friends for dinner. Or when we'd like to have an especially good meal with an interesting choice of wines. We're not regulars yet, but we seem to find a lot of reasons to come here.

Whatever you feel like eating, you'll probably find something on the menu that suits you. If you'd like a sampler plate, the antipasti includes your choice of sweet roasted beets with crumbled goat cheese, a salad of roasted mushrooms, good house-made hummus, eggplant "caviar," mixed olives, or albondigas (little meatballs in a Spanish tomato sauce).

Seafood is another way to go. On our most recent visit, diners next to us shared a large fruits de mer platter, a plentiful assortment of clams, oysters and prawns. I've enjoyed the whole sea bass, roasted in the wood-fired oven with peppers, olives, capers and mint.

It would be easy to make a meal just from the menu section titled "small plates of the Mediterranean." Several times I've ordered the Moroccan-spiced prawns, which arrive sizzling and smoking fragrantly on a cast-iron platter with scallions and sliced lemons. There's also a delicious duck confit salad with frisee, apricots and walnut vinaigrette.

The daily specials from the wood-fired oven are consistently good, served family-style on large colorful platters. So far, we've tried Sunday's pepper-crusted prime rib and Monday's roast suckling pig, served on a bed of arugula with cracklings and citrus vinaigrette.

On our last visit, we especially liked a pizza topped with roasted figs, prosciutto, and arugula. The crust was equally crispy and chewy, and the sweet figs contrasted beautifully with the salted meat. Even the standard "plain cheese" pizza, which pleases our boys, is good enough that B and I compete for the rare leftover slice.

I also sampled an unusual cocktail, with the fanciful name of "bourbon in bloom:" Knob Creek bourbon, orange-blossom honey, fresh lemon juice, and a "float" of Prosecco. The drink was unexpectedly tart and refreshing, despite the honey and the sweet wine.

Zibibbo's interior is an interesting indoor-outdoor space, part shaded patio and part high-ceilinged modern rooms. There's a a big stone fireplace outside that probably gets plenty of use in the cooler months. One of the inner rooms is a wine bar, and others have views of the open kitchen.

Zibibbo's Web site states that it was named one of the 20 best American restaurants by readers of Gourmet magazine (although it doesn't mention the year). It's one of a small family of restaurants that includes the flagship Restaurant LuLu in the SoMa district of San Francisco.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #28, Tea Time

2007-08-16T16:29:00.000-07:00

Tea Time
542 Ramona St., Palo Alto

One of my favorite things to do with a friend is to share an elaborate, leisurely afternoon tea. I felt a little bereft, lunching solo at Tea Time.

But it was a beautiful sunny afternoon, there were tables and comfortable chairs set up on the sidewalk, and I could pick up the free Internet access from the busy Coupa Café two doors down. What more could a singleton diner ask for?

Since it was warm outside, I chose a cheery red berry flavored iced tea, which proved to be just sweet enough, not overpoweringly fruity.

A plate of three good-sized tea sandwiches is $7.95, with a choice of about 8 varieties. The egg salad supreme sandwich was good; I liked the poppy seeds in the white bread.

Smoked ham with mustard mayonnaise and pineapple was subtle, with a very thin slice of ham and a sliver of pineapple garnishing the top. I didn't taste mustard, and I guess I was expecting something along the lines of a pineapple chutney spread, for some reason.

The heart-shaped chicken-apple-pecan salad sandwich was recommended by my server, and it was the best of the three. The chicken salad was chopped very fine, making a smooth spread, with just a little crunch from the apples and pecans.

I passed on the sweets (yes, I realize that's very unusual behavior for me), thinking that the petit fours in the display case looked a little tired. Later I realized that they were probably just that, for display only.

Individual quiches, crumpets, a few salads and a soup of the day round out the menu. There are several delightfully named set-menu teas: Oriental Romance, Summer Garden, and Emperor’s White Delight.

Tea Time sells over 100 varieties of loose tea. One wall of the store is devoted to an attractive display of teapots and cups, from vintage English to Asian and modern styles.

I don’t know a lot about tea – I tend to order jasmine ‘cause it smells pretty – but I imagine that an aficionado could go wild in this place, and happily order sweets or savories to accompany any choice.

Walking at twilight

2007-08-14T22:16:00.000-07:00

The restaurant had grown stuffy and noisy, and the kids were yawning. So B and the boys headed for home, leaving me to finish my drink and settle the check.

It was cool when I headed outside a few minutes later, but it felt good after the overheated interior, so I carried my pullover along with my box of leftovers. In a block or two, I’d left the busy retail area behind.

The sky had that particular glow that sometimes develops on a clear evening, when sunlight continues to brighten the horizon for a while after the sun has set. Overhead was still blue, not yet black, many blues shading to light grey and gold toward the west.

This is an urban area, and many of the windows I passed were open to the cool still air, yet it was quiet. I heard crickets, distant car sounds, quiet voices from a balcony as I passed below. Once a jet hummed and groaned from high abovc, banking over the mountains to the west, on a heading toward SFO.

The loudest sound after the crickets was the hissing of sprinklers. It doesn’t rain at all here in summer, and in-ground irrigation systems are common.

There’s a ground-cover plant that’s common here, with small glossy green leaves and star-shaped white flowers. I think it’s a type of jasmine, because it has a strong sweet smell, especially at night. Whiffs of scent leap out at me as I pass, and it’s always a pleasant surprise.

This is the best time of day to walk and wonder about your surroundings. It’s not fully dark, so places still seem familiar, but there’s an anonymity to the people passing by, their faces indistinct.

I like to look at the lit windows and catch glimpses of the lives lived inside. Here there’s a flat-screen TV on the wall, showing a ball game; next door, the wall is bare and the light us harsh. I try to imagine how the room looks from the inside out, how it appears to those accustomed to living within it, and sometimes, for a second or two, I think I can.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #27, Hukilau

2007-08-14T18:35:00.001-07:00

Hukilau
642 Ramona St., Palo Alto

Hukilau would be a fun place to come for drinks with a group of friends. There's a laid-back vibe, even on a slow weeknight, and it's one of the few places in downtown PA with patio seating. The reggae music is infectious, and who can resist sipping some fruity concoction under a thatched umbrella?

The problem here -- correct me if I'm wrong, as I'm willing to admit that my exposure to traditional Hawaiian foods has been limited -- is that the classic Hawaiian "plate lunch" is not haute cuisine.

Loco moco is a uniquely Hawaiian creation. It's fast food, a dish you find in the mom-and-pop restaurants, not the resort hotels. There's a hamburger patty and an egg sunny-side-up with brown gravy over all, plus a scoop of white rice and a scoop of macaroni salad on the side. Hukilau's version substitutes mahimahi for the ground beef, and the gravy is lighter than you'd think, but it's still a little much for me.

The ahi poke (marinated chunks of sushi-grade tuna) was a better choice, although a little strong on the sesame oil. The steamed, salted edamame (the only bar nibble I've ever encountered that's both good-tasting AND good for you) was fine. Kalua pork was flavorful, but the shredded meat and cabbage (plus the ubiquitous scoops of macaroni salad and rice) wasn't all that attractive.

On another night, with the right group of people, this place could be a good hang-out. I've read positive things about the sushi; next time, I'll stick to the raw fish and skip the comfort food.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #26, Armadillo Willy's

2007-08-13T20:24:00.000-07:00

Armadillo Willy's
1031 N. San Antonio Rd, Los Altos

A local acquaintance who is serious about what he grills has recommended Armadillo Willy's more than once, so I thought I'd better check it out.

Fragrant wood smoke is your first impression of the place, as soon as you step out of your car. Willy's Web site states that its meats are grilled over an oak wood fire, and it sure smells like the real thing.

The menu reads like a carnivore's dream. Willy's BBQs chicken, "18-hour" beef brisket, "Memphis style" pork roast, smoked turkey breast, and a "sausage of the day" in addition to three kinds of pork ribs.

I ordered baby back ribs, which is what I usually prefer, but these were not as meaty as some. The Texas BBQ ribs had more meat, although both had plenty of smoky flavor.

The house BBQ sauce has a vinegary kick, even more so if you get the spicy jalopeno version.

The potato salad and Texas toast were fine. Barbecued beans were a nice change from the usual, ketchupy-sweet kind; they were a mix of different beans in a savory chili-gravy.

A motherly woman came around the dining room as we were finishing our meal with a tray full of chocolate chip cookies, which she offered to each table. They were nicely chewy, didn't taste quite like homemade, but it was a friendly thing to do.

Playground entrepreneur

2007-08-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

I'm used to seeing ice-cream vendors pushing handcarts through the parks here, but this fellow was quite the rolling convenience store.

Most people were buying corn on the cob, which he pulled steaming from a plastic cooler, skewered, and covered with flavorings. One customer had her corn brushed with mayonnaise and covered in grated cheese. Another asked for what appeared to be chili powder. He also had what looked like chicken soup, which he ladled into foam cups.

There were whole mangoes and shelled chunks coconut on skewers. The man would use the stick to keep a grip on a mango as he sliced it into a plastic bag. Then he sprayed the fruit with what looked like lemon juice and sprinkled it with chili powder.

There were whole cucumbers on the cart too, although I didn't see anyone eating them, and bottles of the colorful syrups used to flavor shaved ice or sodas. Another popular item, in a clear plastic bag, looked like pinkish cartwheel-shaped pork rinds.

This vendor did a steady business, for as long as I watched, while an ice-cream man nearby went unnoticed. Most of the transactions were carried out in Spanish, so I only understood a few simple words, like "queso" and "por favor."

Now I wish I'd asked some questions. It's interesting to feel like a foreigner in your own country.

Insulted by Shakespeare

2007-08-13T18:33:00.000-07:00

"The famous Chandos portrait, the subject of which, although commonly assumed to be William Shakespeare, has never been definitely identified." (Wikipedia)

I've customized my Google page so that each time I visit, I get an insult courtesy of Shakespeare. I don' t know what it says about me that I continue to enjoy this.

My favorite so far: "You shall stifle in your own report, and smell of calumny." (from Measure for Measure, Act 2, Scene 4)

47 restaurants in 47 days: #25, Café Sophia

2007-08-13T16:01:00.000-07:00

Café Sophia
2706 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto

It's not often that I find myself thinking, "I could really go for some stewed pumpkin." And I'm certain that before today, I've never had this idea in a coffeehouse.

The sign over Cafe Sophia's small storefront says “Coffee Roasting Company,” but there’s much more inside. The first surprise upon entering is the riot of color. Oriental rugs cover the floor, and the walls are decorated with bright tapestries and and rugs. The wrought-iron dining chairs are cushioned with kilims. The slanted ceiling is covered with lavish swirls of pink, purple, red and orange. It made me think of a rose garden gone wild.

The second surprise is that this coffeehouse is also an Afghan restaurant. You can order a muffin or a panini, but there are also kabobs of all sorts and dishes such as kofta challow (beef meatballs served with potatoes and Afghani gravy) and quabili pallow (seasoned pieces of lamb with browned basmati rice, topped with carrot strips and raisins).

The veggie plate was a colorful presentation, with generous portions of spinach, zucchini and eggplant, each stewed in tomato sauce with garlic and spices. There were two mounds of rice, white basmati and the browned basmati, which tasted of cinnamon. A good-sized romaine salad rounded out the plate, topped with feta, black beans, chopped tomatoes, walnuts, and olives.

The affable man behind the counter asked if it was my first visit, then offered his advice on what I should try first. There was a pleasant hum of conversation in the café, even in mid-afternoon, from what looked to be tables of friends just hanging out and chatting.

After eating all my veggies, I wasn't ready to sample the coffee. I'll gladly come back another time.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #24, Joanie’s

2007-08-11T00:50:00.000-07:00

Joanie’s Café
447 S. California Ave., Palo Alto

Everyone should have a little restaurant like this within walking distance of home. A place where retirees, moms with young children, paired and single men and women in business attire, and slackers like me can happily mingle on a weekday morning, enjoying homemade waffles and scrambled eggs.

The servers are as friendly as they are efficient. “Are you Joanie?” one customer asks a waitress with an every-present smile. “No, I’m Susan,” she replies pleasantly, taking it in stride.

There’s a stack of today’s newspapers by the front door, for sharing. The orange juice is fresh and a cup of coffee is bottomless. A quick bite or a leisurely brunch? It’s up to you.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #23, Straits

2007-08-11T00:38:00.000-07:00

Straits Restaurant
Westfield San Francisco Centre
845 Market Street

A restaurant that looks like a trendy nightclub, AND it’s in the middle of a shopping mall? Normally I wouldn’t expect much. But I’d just read a rave review of Straits in a local weekly, praising its Singapore-influenced cuisine, so I settled down on a silk-covered bench and tried to decide how many “small plates” I could sample without being a total pig.

My friendly server was eager to describe any menu item that piqued my curiosity (and couldn’t help asking why I was photographing my food). She assured me that two or three plates wouldn’t be overwhelming.

The Indonesian corn croquettes were a mini-flashback to Grandma O’s recipe for Southern corn fritters, but these crispy discs came with sweet and vinagery chili-garlic sauce, not maple syrup. The corn might have been from a can, but I finished off the plate without coming to a definite conclusion.

I spent several minutes trying to guess what the barbecue sauce on the “Bali-style” spare ribs might be, and finally called the server back. She returned from the kitchen with a list of ingredients that included blue ginger, sweet soy sauce, garlic and honey. I was thinking there might be molasses or even coffee, the flavor was so deep and rich.

I also tried poh pia, a fresh spring roll (not deep-fried) with the interesting addition of Chinese sausage to the more standard bits of shrimp, shredded carrot, jicama, peanuts and cooked egg. The plate included two slashes of plum sauce and sriracha, neither of which was as spicy as advertised.

The food was good, but I really enjoyed the house-made lemongrass-mint soda. Each sip started with citrus flavor, then the herbal note of the lemongrass, followed by refreshing mint. I can’t imagine a more cooling summertime drink.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #22, MarketBar

2007-08-11T00:26:00.001-07:00

MarketBar
One Ferry Building
San Francisco

We were on another foodie run, primarily for more Recchiuti chocolate. (This week’s special: “whoppie pies,” devils’ food cake with house-made marshmallow filling and a coating of bittersweet chocolate. I haven’t tried mine yet, but it smells like the best Easter basket ever. But I digress.)

It was after 7 p.m., the food market was closing, and we were four hungry people. (With bags full of chocolate. Hmm...) MarketBar was the only nearby restaurant that didn’t have a two-hour wait, but it turned out to be a good choice.

The “market menu” for the day intrigued the grown-ups, and the kids appreciated the pommes frites. There was no children’s menu, but a friendly waiter offered to bring cheese pizza or plain pasta for the boys, and the fries came with a kid-sized supply of ketchup.

The starters on the prix-fixe menu included an unusual potato-chili soup with roasted corn, zucchini and epazote. It tasted pleasantly like chips and salsa. I also tried a salad of fresh butter lettuce, heirloom tomatoes, blue cheese and balsamic vinaigrette.

One of the main courses was a nicely grilled swordfish with flat beans and house-cured pancetta in a tomato beurre blanc sauce. I particularly enjoyed the other entrée we tried, a luxurious shellfish risotto. Risotto can be bland and unimaginative, but this one must have contained as much protein as rice. There were chunks of lobster, Dungeness crab, sea scallops, mussels, shrimp, and clams, tossed with tomatoes, diced grilled mushrooms and zucchini.

Desserts on the market menu included tres leches cake, served with strawberry sorbet and fresh strawberries. The other was pineapple polenta cake, which turned out to be not very cake-like at all. The warm pineapple, cooked to somewhere between thin slices and a compote, was topped with a delicious coconut sorbet. Nearly hidden at the bottom was the polenta cake, which had the consistency of a crumble, almost like biscotti.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #21, Cho’s

2007-08-11T00:12:00.000-07:00

Cho’s Restaurant
213 S. California Ave., Palo Alto

I’ve had this dim sum jones for a couple of days now. (Wouldn’t that be good name for a fictional character? Dim Sum Jones, Chinatown Detective. OK, maybe not.) So I went looking for this neighborhood institution.

You probably wouldn’t notice Cho's if you weren’t looking for it. And, as another reviewer suggested, once you notice it, you might think: Is this a restaurant, a tiny store, or a barely converted broom closet?

There’s just room inside for a one-man kitchen, two small freezers, and four tables, but there’s some cheap and yummy dim sum happening here. I picked out all my favorites for a take-away lunch -- three pork potstickers, three steamed pork dumplings, a steamed barbecued pork bun, and a steamed bun filled with sweet lotus seed paste –and paid just $5.75.

It was too much food, but I gobbled it all anyway. The filling of the sweet lotus bun tasted like honey. Craving satisfied.

47 restaurants in 47 days: #20, Cafe Kevah

2007-08-10T13:15:00.000-07:00

Cafe Kevah
Highway 1
Big Sur, CA

This part of California feels like you're on the edge of the earth, and Cafe Kevah is a good place for a light meal to go with that feeling.

The cafe is the little sister to Nepenthe, a fixture on this swervy scenic section of Highway 1 since the '60s. Reviewers complain that Nepenthe's food is average and overpriced, but it's worth a few extra bucks as far as I'm concerned to relax and gaze upon this shoreline.

We ordered a lavish French toast made from brioche stuffed with blueberry cream cheese; a bright and tangy salad of arugula, goat cheese, and orange sections; and toasted sourdough bread. Raucous, fearless Steller's jays hovered and hopped close by, one making so bold as to carry off a crust of bread before we could say shoo. (C calls them "mohawk jays," for the tuft of black feathers on top of their heads.)