Just a little something missing at Cotogna

I would give the dishes at Cotogna a 9. This is clearly not your run-of-the-mill Italian restaurant but there’s just something holding it back from being among the best.

(One disclaimer: the complimentary bread is a 10. It arrives to the table warm, a bit wet from olive oil, and with a light sprinkle of sea salt and herbs. A good slice of bread is second-to-none, and Cotogna’s take proves why).

I had a tough time deciding what to order, in large part because I couldn’t translate half the words on the menu. Numbers, however, don’t need translation, and I do think the prices here are among the highest I’ve seen during lunch ($24 for a three-course prix-fixe; most entrée a la carte options are $15 and above. This might not seem outrageous, but the portions aren’t consistent). We finally decided on the Gnocchi with Dungeness crab & peas; pizza with ramps, guanciale, egg & pecorino Romano; and Sunchokes with roasted cipollini onions. Our server was pretty adamant we order more but I wasn’t looking to feast and neither was my mom. In hindsight, three plates was just barely enough – especially if I had my normal appetite with me.

The quality of the pasta was lovely. Their gnocchi is what carb lovers fantasize about – soft, warm, thick, and light. I don’t crave pasta but I could eat those until my face turned blue. My criticism is around the crab part. I saw one lump of crab meat in the entire dish. Being the same size and color as the pasta, I probably wouldn’t have even picked up on it if I wasn’t looking for it. At a $16 price point, there’s got to be a few more chunks of meat. The sauce, while warm and creamy, was also generic; I couldn’t identify a particular flavor. Perhaps this was intentional to leave the focus on the pasta but I guess I prefer something with a little more punch.

The quality of the pizza was great, but again I felt as though the kitchen was being stingy with the toppings. I was tempted to tuck my head into the kitchen and let them know the recession is over. Don’t ask me what “ramps” or “guanciale” are, but one of them is a bacon-like meat. There were about eight pinky finger-nail sized cubes on the entire pizza so I got to try about three of them. There were parts of the pizza that were completely baron – no cheese or anything to cover the bread. Again, maybe simplicity is the intention here, but it left me wanting more (and raiding the snack drawer about two hours later). I enjoyed the sunny-side up egg in the middle but realized it’s hard to share among three people. Gotta call dibs!

We had Sunchokes & cipollini onions on the side. To me, the sunchokes had a similar taste and exture to a roasted potato. This dish is fresh, simple, and small.

The interior of the restaurant nearly took my breath away when I walked in. It’s homey – one small dining room flanked by a bar overlooking the kitchen on one side (note to self) and a wood-burning fire. The wooded décor is upscale without being pretentious. It’s the kind of atmosphere I want to spend several hours in. Based on the fact it took me two weeks to get a LUNCH reservation, I’m filing this under the “last-minute, post-work casual drinks & apps at the bar with a gal pal“ category.

Mmmm, that MSG smells good!

Today I ate at that "Asian place where there's always a line by 11:30am." Sure enough, my parents and I snagged the last three available chairs at 11:45am on what one might assume would be a slow Good Friday (at the end of a table occupied by another group. "Community Tables" are hot right now but I don't think that is what they had in mind). Sai's clearly keeps overhead costs low - natural light via a skylight, Goodwill decorations, paper place mats, and laminated menus, packed tables, etc - and the prices reflect. Ambiance is not their strong suit. This is all fine by me so long as the shortcomings are made up with mind-blowing food. While I have no complaints, I don't understand the daily line.

Sai's portions are big and prices are low but the food itself is just above average. I am back to trying to eat vegetarian until 6pm, so opted for vegetable and bean curd curry. Bean curd sounds nasty, but I remember being delighted by it at Unicorn. And, as I told my mom, I would eat shoe leather if it was drenched in curry (same thing goes for bacon wrapped shoe-leather and deep fried shoe leather in case you're curious). The bean curd here wasn't nearly as meaty as the one at Unicorn and the curry sauce simply didn't cut it for me. It was somewhat dull to me - I was constantly reaching for the hot sauce and salt to kick it up a few notches. Curry sauce has so much potential and it simply wasn't realized at Sai's. The vegetables but I don't remember a time when broccoli made the meal...

My dad had a monstrous beef and noodle soup. It's a rare day when he can't finish the food in front of him, but today was one of them. The soup is PACKED with noodles and big chunks of beef. My mom had the chicken curry which was essentially what I had so not much to comment on there.

I am judging a book my it's cover here, but something tells me Sai's doesn't rely on the freshest ingredients or particularly care about being local. There is no indication they cook without MSG, which probably means they do. I personally don't care, but I know a lot of San Franciscans do. Actually, judging by the line, maybe a lot of San Franciscans don't!

Gary Danko: I am my mother's daughter, after all

I knew Gary Danko was expensive. I expected it. I embraced it. But, even after an exquisite three-hour dinner that I will never forget, the tab was put in front of me and I felt I had been socked in the stomach. As I think I've mentioned in my blog, my mom is CHEAP when it comes to dining out, but I suddenly empathized with how she feels when she sees a $12 entree or when my dad orders an appetizer. Our "ceilings" are separated by several hundred dollars, but I resolve to give her less of a hard time when she has a price-induced panic attack. Wow, I've only been 26 for 24 hours and older and wiser already!

Sit down, put your feet up, grab some popcorn. My thoughts on Danko are robust, complicated, and ultimately laced with the money issue.

Let's start from the very beginning. I chose Gary Danko as my birthday dinner spot months in advance. It is, in my opinion, THE premiere San Francisco restaurant and it was weighing on me that I had never been. When I called weeks in advance, the only reservation I could get was at 9pm. Don't forget this was for a Wednesday night.

Fast forward several weeks to 8:55pm and my date, Adrienne, is taking pictures of me outside the restaurant and reassuring anyone in earshot that "we're locals! I swear! She's just excited!" When the photo shoot ended, we walked inside and were immediately seated in the dining room to the left. Gary Danko is comprised of two dining rooms divided by the bar. They are completely separate from each other, which almost made me feel like the diners in the other room were at a completely different restaurant. For some reason this bothered me; part of me was wondering if the other room was more desirable? Was someone famous in the other room and I didn't know because I couldn't see them? I wasn't blown away by the interior itself. Adrienne and I agreed it has a vague Asian influence which is fine but has nothing to do with the food. The tightly packed tables don't support the chorus of waiters, sommeliers, hosts, assistants, food deliver-ers, cheese experts, bussers, and overseers that are constantly buzzing around. It's a zoo. It is not quiet and you don't feel like you're the only patrons there. I only make this distinction because at my other Michelin-star experience (Aquerello) I truly felt like my table was the only one the staff cared about. The staff at Gary Danko was bordering on robotic. We had so many different servers that I never had a chance to create any kind of relationship with one. It's important to me to build a rapport - to feel taken care of.

Yikes, I still have five courses of food to talk about! Adrienne and I both ordered the Spring Tasting Menu plus the Wine Pairing. You can view the menu here. The first course, in layman's terms, was a deep fried poached egg. I will never, ever forget that first bite. How a chef can deep fry an egg but still maintain a runny yoke is beyond me. I lose my words just thinking about it. I gently pierced the egg with my fork and watched the yoke run over the fried exterior and into the mushroom/polenta/pancetta beneath it. I was a little skeptical about the wine pairing aspect, but Danko proved me wrong on each of the five courses. The champagne really did enhance the savory aspects of the dish.

Next out was the Horseradish crusted salmon medallion. The salmon was prepared to a moist, medium-rare perfection but what I will remember about this course is the wine. That white wine took my breath away. A wine snob might have just been born. It was smooth, "easy," and delicate. Our sommelier, was, how shall I say it, "long-winded" and I had already learned to tune him out by the second course. Now I am wishing I had digested more of the information he tried to teach me.

Next out was the real test: steak. If you can you wow me with a steak, you have truly accomplished something. When Server #12 placed a BUTTER knife in front of me, I knew Gary had nailed it. Sure enough, that steak was tender, juicy, and rare. The surrounding shallots and potato slivers made the simple steak preparation much more exciting. And again, the wine. I don't think there is any other wine more suited for that dish than the one we had. If you haven't guessed by now, I was truly blown away by the wines. They were exquisite from beginning to end.

Cheese course! This course is, from what I've read, what makes Gary famous. It's almost comical. A tall, quirky cheese guy wheels out a cart with 16 different varieties and goes through the history of each and every one of them. Keep in mind I'm several glasses of wine deep at this point, so my attention span isn't stellar. He had me through the second description when I decided internally I would just close my eyes and choose four. I mean, could I really go wrong? No. I did choose the four that looked most like Brie. Served with grapes and raisin-bread, each cheese took me back to my trip to Paris last year. Happiness. (One minor criticism: Adrienne ordered a cheese described as the "staff favorite" and for whatever reason, I noticed it wasn't on her plate. We politely pointed this out to the cheese guy who apologized so profusely I wonder if he thought we would rat him out).

Each of the courses is very generously portioned. I'd say they're the size of a smaller entree. But, there's always room for dessert. Here is where I wasn't completely blown away. The chocolate souffle is lovely looking and exciting when the Server #56 pierces it to add homemade chocolate and white chocolate sauces. But the souffle itself was a bit underwhelming. I am wondering if I am so accustomed to cheap chocolate that the good quality stuff tastes funny to me. It wasn't rich; I'd even dare to call it a bit bland. Not wanting to waste a morsel of anything, I finished mine (Adrienne did not).

I've already used the word "exquisite" but it really seems like the best word to describe Gary Danko's food. Yet, I'm still hung up on the cost issue. I have had many terrific meals for a third, a quarter, or even a TENTH of the cost of Danko. Do I think Danko is ten times better than those meals? No, I do not. Would I rather go to Bix three times or Danko once? I think I'd say the former. Having just had a wonderful, multi-course dinner at Picco the weekend before at a fraction of the cost really highlites this conundrum to me. I also wonder how much I was influenced to like the food by the mere fact that I was at Gary Danko.

I will remember that night for the rest of my life. I'll be able to recall the details of each of the five courses forever. I am so thankful to my parents for sponsoring such a wonderful memory for me. There were so many exciting (some bizarre) moments and it is so much fun to rehash them with Adrienne; I'm still texting her with "remember that part when..." Everyone should do it once; it will change the way you think about dining.

Will You Marry Me, Bruce Hill?

Bruce Hill can do no wrong. He is the chef behind Bix, my all-time favorite restaurant in San Francisco. His newish SOMA pizzeria has a more casual vibe but still serves first rate food. So naturally, his third outpost, Picco, has been atop my to-do list for awhile now. It exceeded my (unreasonably high) expectations.

Picco has a completely separate identity than Bix, and I admire Mr. Hill for being versatile enough to pull that off. Bix is located in a narrow downtown alley-way just steps away from the hub of city life, while Picco is an isolated fixture in a quaint Marin residential neighborhood. Picco has a country-side feel with its wooded architecture and surrounding Redwood trees. One can even sit outside on the wood deck at the adjoining pizzeria (aptly titled Picco Pizzeria) and watch the occasional car drive by. It's quiet. I love driving 30 minutes outside the city but feeling like I'm a million miles away.

While Picco is very different from Bix in many ways, it shares one essential similarity - flawless American fare. I have the best gal pals ever: for my birthday, they let me choose the restaurant location, time (4pm sharp), and every single dish. That is friendship! We started at the Pizzeria next door for a pre-dinner glass of wine. We ended up ordering the "Marin Pizza" thinking we'd each have a slice and take the rest home (not a morsel made it to 4:30). The Marin pie is topped with roasted garlic, potato, mozzarella, Parmesan and rosemary oil. Mr. Hill's signature thin crust means that one slice is actually quite light and, at $12, a great appetizer choice. We were off to a terrific start.

At 5:30 we moved over to the main restaurant for our reservation. I am blessed to have friends that love food as much as I do. We started with the tuna tartare, which probably ended up as my favorite of the night. A scoop of tartare is served atop a FRIED sticky rice cake! I love when a chef can take a staple like tartare, throw in a small twist and make it unlike any other I've had before it (especially when that "twist" involves frying). Next came out Avocado Bruschetta with small wisps of chorizo sausage. It's dishes like this where the quality of the ingredients is critical and this one didn't miss a beat: the avocados were soft, creamy - everything a good California avocado should be.

Next up was home-made risotto. Our waitress informed us beforehand that the risotto is made from scratch every half hour to guarantee maximum freshness. Adrienne knows her risotto and claimed this was up there with the best she's ever had. I am less experienced with risotto, but I can't find anything wrong with something warm, creamy, and fresh.

A birthday girl must have dessert. Or two, if you are me. We ordered the chocolate madelines and the toffee sticky cake. The madelines - which were still warm when they reached the table - are served with a shot glass of a coffee milk shake. The warm toffee was soft and moist and perfectly melts the accompanying vanilla bean ice cream. They were both terrific, but the dinner components actually manage to overshadow them.

I know you are thinking: what a bunch of PIGS! Yes, I have nothing against a well-timed splurge. But, the plates are small to medium sized and priced accordingly. Each plate probably equates to 3-5 bites per person, so ordering 5-6 dishes isn't outrageous. We also brought my favorite bottle of red wine so saved significant coin on drinks. I like restaurants where I can try a multitude of dishes without totally breaking the bank. And, I already can't wait to go back to try the homemade soft-serve ice cream next door and to try the 5-6 tempting items on the menu that didn't make the cut this visit.

-Corinne Hill

Oz-some!

The fact that all I will ever remember about my meal at Oz is the fried Oreo is truly a disservice to the entire experience. I was already very pleased with every aspect of my lunch at Oz – and then the dessert arrived out and blew everything else out of the water.

I started noticing Oz recently on my bus ride to work. From its website, it looks like a mediocre bar food place that serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner all day. When I walked in, I was still expecting mediocre bar food as it was totally empty and there were no visible indicators that food was its focus. All plates are in the $12 range, max.

Rarely do I order breakfast for lunch (except for weekend brunch), so I opted for the smoked salmon omelet. My parents went the same route, my mom ordering mushroom & cheese, my dad the Ranchero. I was thrilled with my mine. The smoked salmon was piled super high and not diluted by any other toppings. The two pieces of toast and side of hash browns make this dish an absolute steal at $10. My parents were similarly impressed with the quality and quantity of their plates. We also all raved about the home-made spicy pineapple jam that comes with the toast. I think my dad ate eight pieces. Sorry, Doc Atkins.

The lunch could have ended there and I would have been more than happy. I had seen the dessert menu on the website and knew it would be a mistake to walk out without giving the fried Oreos a try. Fried Oreos are on my bucket list (along with swimming with dolphins and eating at the French Laundry, hint hint) and I don’t think I’ve seen them on any other menu in SF. I just got a huge grin on my face thinking about eating them. For $4.95, you get four Oreos topped with home-made cinnamon whipped cream and drizzled chocolate sauce. The taste is such an unusual sensation; I’d say my taste buds registered about 50% of the fried batter and 50% of the classic Oreo taste in each bite (ie, one flavor doesn’t overpower the other). The cookie part softens from the hot oil so a tiny, delicate fork is all you need to cut through it. Now I sound like a fatty, but they were incredibly “light” – I felt like I could have eaten several without a stomach ache. They were delightful. And so fun to share.

Everything I look for in a restaurant – service, quantity, quality, price, ambiance, “it” factor, noise level – are executed at Oz. Oz-some! Tremend-oz! Stupend-oz! Oz-inspiring!

Meltdown, Counter-Side

The foundation had been laid for an amazing brunch: Sunday, sunny skies, 6 mile run down the hatch, stomach growling, and an eatery whose name is that of a female (see theory here). Let’s just say I had to fight back tears of disappointment by the time I walked out of Bette’s Oceanview Diner.

You’ve probably seen Bette’s pancakes and waffle mixes in higher end supermarkets. I also recently saw the diner featured on Check Please (to very favorable reviews). In hindsight, there were several red flags from the start. First, parking is impossible in spite of several lots nearby. Second, our wait was roughly 45 minutes for two counter spots. Knowing my hunger level (translation: cranky level) was on a steady rise, I bought a chocolate chip cookie at the adjoining bakery shop next door. The cookie was, at best, mediocre.

I knew I wanted pancakes and I couldn’t resist the soufflé pancake option: “fluffy pancake lightened with beaten egg whites and baked in the oven.” There are several toppings to choose from, including the banana rum option I went with. My charity case opted for the California plate (poached eggs on ham and toast with a lemon-herb butter sauce, served with home fries). The plate placed before me was jaw dropping; the soufflé is enormous, puffy, and…enormous and puffy. It has no taste other than a very faint hint of egg whites (unless you dump syrup on it, which I resorted to), has the consistency of undercooked egg whites, and is simply not visually appealing when you cut into it. About halfway through I felt a tantrum coming on and had a few bites of the egg dish, which was better, but nothing to write home about.

Based on Bette's Yelp reviews, I seem to be in the minority about the souffle. Perhaps it's just a matter of personal preference, but I can't recall ever having a similar reaction to any kind of flour-based food. I am not picky about my carbs.

On the plus side: the vibe of the restaurant is stellar. It’s a classic diner in every sense of the word, including a manual juke box, friendly wait-staff, interactive counter, and very reasonable prices. There's very well priced booze on the menu if you feel so inclined for a day drink. I don’t understand the “Oceanview” part, as you’d have to walk a mile to even see any water, but now I am just picking on Bette’s. I had a great view of the cooks and would consider returning to try some of the other dishes they were making... once my tantrum has subsided that is.