Harry saves the night!

5:25PM Text from Sarah G: Happy Hour?
5:26PM ME: YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

45 Minutes later we found ourselves bar-side at Out the Door, which is about 25 feet from my apartment and about 75 from hers. In all fairness, we had some wine and shared a small salad appetizer, so probably not fair basis for a full review. But still, there were some issues about the visit that are still lingering in my mind.

First, I knew OTD had a dish on 7X7’s Top 100 Things to Eat in SF Before You Die list. I actually brought the list with me, but didn’t bother to cross-check it when the waiter told us it was the green papaya salad. Not only was the salad unremarkable, it wasn’t even the dish on the list! Anyone who knows me knows I love a list and I love crossing things off a list even more. Imagine my dismay when I went to check off the green papaya salad only to find we should have gotten something else. Furthermore, we advised the bartender upfront that we were here for a drink and maybe an appetizer. He must have asked us about our dinner order five times. He refilled our waters ten times. “Another glass of wine?” six times. He wiped down the space in front of me. You’ve heard the term “helicopter parent;” this guy was a “helicopter waiter.” Chill out!

Feeling a bit like we put the edge on rather than taking it off, we agreed a pit-stop at Harry’s was our only option. Ah, yes. Redemption. Laugh all you want, but that’s a fun bar with great food. After sampling our friendly bar-neighbor’s sweet potato fries, we placed a small order of our own. $2.95 gets you a big bowl and these suckers are TASTY! The mayonnaise-based dipping sauce hit the spot too.

On to a pun I cannot resist: I won’t be going In the Door at Out the Door anytime soon.

Thursday night’s dinner with Brooke & Jeff at RN74 contrasted starkly with Friday’s parent lunch at Lafitte. I truly believe it is healthy to have a bad dining experience (Lafitte) to make one appreciate the great ones (RN74).

Let’s start in chronological order. Brooke & Jeff asked me to join them at RN74, Michael Mina’s newest outpost in the Millennium Tower, to celebrate an assortment of things. I had been there once for lunch when it first opened but was tickled with excitement to see how Mina does dinner. I remember remarking to B&J that RN74 has one of the neatest interiors I’ve seen in SF; it’s modeled after an old-fashioned train station.

PETA members, pig-lovers, and animal-rights activists – please overt your eyes now. As an appetizer, I had the sautéed pork belly & manila clams. Pork belly: fattier and thicker version of bacon. Jackpot. Jeff also got the maitake mushroom tempura for the table to share (fried – ‘nuff said). For my main course, I had the bacon-wrapped pork loin (like I said, not a good day for Babe). Let me say, this place is pricey but the servings are generous. These are not two-bite meals (appetizers included) like many high-end restaurants. In fact, I only ate half of my main and packed the rest for the weekend. Everything was delicious, but when I’m on my deathbed, I will remember that pork belly. Ya can cut it with a fork and it melts in your mouth. All this washed down with a good glass of wine – how did I get this lucky? Seriously.

Fast forward approximately 18 hours to lunch with the parentals along the Embarcadero. On my weekly waterfront runs, I noticed a new restaurant popped out – literally – of the north end of Pier 5. The space is an enclosed outdoor dining patio (check out the website for better visuals). Anyway, the place is called Lafitte and is about six weeks old. My diagnosis here is the chef is trying to be clever and innovative with his menu options – but it just totally backfires.

Parents both ordered the “Dagwood” sandwich. Take a look at the picture: WTF is that? Let’s just say anchovies, bacon, pork pate, and four pieces of bread were involved. I’m really glad I didn’t order it because:

-I had a few bites of mom’s and it was dry
-I honestly didn’t know how approach it
o pick it up?
o Eat it as two different sandwiches?
o Knife and fork?
o Four separate pieces of toast?

I ordered the seafood chowder (still blocked up from RN74) and out came a bowl consisting primarily carrots and potatoes. Sorry to be harsh, but an $18 bowl of soup should have more than two pieces of shrimp. Oh, and I used my fork to eat it. Huh?

Thank you Brooke & Jeff for providing me with such a special treat. Thanks Mom & Dad for hanging in there during an unfortunate SF showing. We’ll get ‘em next time.

The burden of expectation

Frascati has some of the best word-of-mouth publicity I can think of in this city. Everyone I talk to who has been to the Green & Hyde spot nearly falls over him/herself at its mere mention. Sorry to say, I’m not one of them. I will try my best to articulate why. Bread pudding is involved..

There was a very strong disconnect between price and value. Entrees range from roughly $22-28 per plate and apps are in the mid-teens. For me, this is the definitely the higher end of what I normally spend when I go out to dinner. My companion and I shared the Roasted Half Chicken and a penne dish. To evidence the level of an impression the pasta left on us, neither of us can remember what was in it. Monday morning GChat:

ME: “Did it have meat in it?”
Response: “I don’t think so?? Maybe? It was red.”

It was described as spicy on the menu, but I don’t recollect that part, either. The chicken didn’t fare much better. I distinctly remember thinking the $7 roast chicken at Safeway is moister and juicer than what was on my plate at Frascati.
Lastly, the bread pudding. Multiple sources (friends, websites) billed this as the best in the city. Good, yes. Great, no. Not even on the same spectrum as the bread pudding served at Luna Park. It reminded me more of a piece of moist chocolate cake than anything else.

To end on a positive note: Frascati is located on one of my favorite blocks in the city (Hyde & Green). Cable cars are rumbling by and white Christmas lights wrap the tree trunks year-round. It’s a classic SF view, which is not something I ever take for granted. The restaurant itself is charming and cozy. Service was well above average – friendly, knowledgeable, and well-paced. Just wish the food was as impressive as the setting.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

I was browsing through my blog entries and starting to feel like all I do is gush over every place I eat, so my experience at Georges will prove that I don’t I don’t automatically pee in my pants about a restaurant as soon as I walk through the door.

Don’t get me wrong, Georges was good and I had a nice time. It was a solid choice for my mom’s 61st birthday. The service was attentive (less one minor “huh?” moment), the setting was pleasant, and the food was nothing to complain about. The place is only 6 weeks old, so a return visit in 6-12 months could very well call for a change in undergarments.

Georges is all about fish. My dad ordered the grilled halibut sandwich (“just for the halibut” of course), my mom the salmon & penne, and me the fish tacos. I was gravely tempted by the fish & chips, so was overjoyed to see the fish in the tacos was fried. I have had some good fried fish tacos in my day (ahem, Nick’s Crispy’s…) and these simply didn’t measure up. I think the first bite into battered fried fish should almost burn your mouth and the breading should yield a crunch sound. Georges’ fried fish was lukewarm and soft. The consistency of the fried breading wasn’t too different from the fish inside. I wasn’t upset about it; in fact, I realize I’m spoiled in the fried fish arena (The Ramp is another place that does it extremely well) so the bar was placed high.

There was one minor slip-up, but maybe I’m the only one who would consider it one? The server brought us the bread. Just bread. No oil. No butter. No nothing. Bread is great, but isn’t that akin to bringing French fries sans ketchup? When we asked for oil, butter – anything – he looked confused and finally dug up some oil (no vinegar, but let’s not get greedy).

If Ain't Broken, Don't Fix It (especially when it comes to burgers)

How do I say this delicately? “If ain’t broken, don’t fix it” seems like an appropriate idiom for Spork. Spork, an upscale diner in the Mission District, had been waiting patiently on my to-do list for months. I found myself in the ‘hood (Valencia & 22nd-ish) Saturday night around 7pm and was quite surprised to find the place half-empty (I just noticed I instinctively chose to write “half empty” rather than my normal “half full” – perhaps an indication of my true feelings toward the place??? Freud, eat your heart out). My companion and I bellied right up to the diner-style bar (think plastic stools and paper napkin dispensers). Spork is known for its inside out burger, so that pick was a no brainer.

Back to the idiom. As you can see from the photo, Spork’s approach to the burger is to switch the buns with beef patties and the patty with a bun. It's a clever idea and I’m not afraid of a lot of meat. For various reasons, it fails miserably. Here is a list of my problems:

1. When asked how I wanted the beef cooked, I responded with my normal response (“mooing.”) I have never seen beef cooked so thoroughly. Strike 1.

2. The “bun” in the middle is totally absorbed by the meat to the point of disappearing, creating more of a meatloaf result.

3. The $3 bacon add-on is an insult to pigs around the world. It had the consistency of a relish – spreadable. Again, they tried to get clever on a staple and it totally backfires.

4. The Fries – can a girl just get a plate of freakin’ French fries?! Not at Spork. The “fries” are really four cutesy potato blossoms. Do not ask about the ketchup serving size. It will make me upset.

To recap, Spork tries to get creative in their delivery and it backfires on three fronts (Burger, bacon, and French fries). I *guess* I’m glad I went to see what the fuss is about, but when the burger craving strikes, there's no chance I will be returning to Spork.

One thing Spork has going for it: it’s three blocks from Luna Park (home of the best bread pudding in the world). And yes, the bread pudding is as good as ever. Best ever. Ever. Ever!!!!



EVER.

I Ordered Soup

Noon-time on Friday found my parents and me at Embarcadero 4 for lunch at Sens Restaurant, a Mediterranean spot offering gorgeous views of the Ferry Building and Bay Bridge. I still remember exactly what I ordered there two years ago (lamb burger), which is probably the highest compliment I can offer a restaurant.

Fighting the overwhelming urge to order the lamb burger again, I did something I haven’t done since the last time I had the flu: I ordered soup. To be fair, I also ordered the eggplant flatbread appetizer for a sense of balance. The soup du jour (insert Dumb & Dumber joke here) was described to me as some sort of Moroccan lentil/vegetable concoction. Here I go with the superlatives: this was the best soup I’ve ever had. In spite of being tomato based, it was thick, rich, and filling; comparable to chili. I can’t tell the difference between spices and flavors (beyond “chocolate” vs. “vanilla”), so your guess is as good as mine when it comes to which components created such a heart-warming bowl of goodness. The flatbreads were equally comforting: warm, chewy pita topped with pesto, cheese, cherry tomatoes and eggplant. Quite a generous serving for an $8 appetizer, too.

My dad described his lamb burger as unique (“there are chunks of other things in this patty”) and my mom raved about the salad on the side of her chicken wrap even more so than the wrap itself. Everything served at Sens has a distinct Mediterranean feel; lots of lemons, olive oil, and yogurt flavoring.

I have a policy about ordering bread pudding when out at restaurants. It’s not something you can have at home or pick up quickly at a bakery. Thus, it must be ordered when available. Continuing its amazing run, Sens offered a banana bread pudding with brown sugar ice cream and caramel sauce. The dessert was at the same level as everything else, thus making this a Sens-ational meal from start to finish.

Neither Here Nor There

This is a tough entry to write because Café Claude wasn’t overwhelming good nor it was it exceptionally terrible. It’s … just a French spot hidden away on Claude Lane (a small alley between Pine and Bush). I won’t go out of my way to return but certainly won’t turn my nose up either. You get the point. (Call me if you want more ways to describe “middle of the road.”).

I was not in a sandwich mood (a rare occasion for me) and was looking to eat something I don’t get to try very often. I ended up with the steak tartare. Now, that is how I like my beef cooked! As you can see from the photos, the dish consists of a decent portion of raw steak and crostini-style bread, some seasonings, and a small raw egg. I think steak tartare is inherently mild and not something that will blow your mind. My dad and I also shared potato gratin. Again, it was tasty but not mind blowing.

My mom went with my second choice – a bacon, egg, and cheese quiche. I had a bite, and a part of me wish I had ordered this one instead. Chewy/flakey crust: Check. Bacon: Check. Rich, gooey cheese: check.

Interestingly, the restaurant is hidden away in nondescript alleyway, yet is a pretty large space once you walk in. In spite of the generous square footage, Café Claude packs its diners to the rafters. This creates a noisy dining room and some agitation for those with claustrophobic tendencies.

Bottom line, in a city with such stellar dining options, Café Claude can wait.