A sheep in wolf’s clothing

I think this title’s axiom is correct. Maybe not. But what I’m trying to express is that Wexler’s sells itself as a BBQ place (one of the few in SF that I can name) but it’s really a proper, light fare kind of place. No extra napkins needed; needn’t worry about BBQ sauce down the chin or shredded pork in teeth.

This is only a negative if you’re craving finger lickin’, sauce drippin’, stuff-yourself-silly BBQ fare. I typically don’t during the Friday lunch-hour, so I walked away quite pleased with my meal. We started with the fried green tomatoes appetizers. While I would eat shoe leather if it was fried, I don't think tomatoes are the most fry-friendly ingredient. The breading slid off the tomato so it was hard to get a bite of both. The tomatoes themselves were harder than any fresh tomato I've ever had, but maybe that's a product of the deep fryer or how green tomatoes are naturally. I enjoyed them but I wouldn't order it again. And, consistent with the entrees, don't expect a big bowl of fried goodness; our plate was probably the equivalent of one medium-sized tomato.

I ate here when it first opened about two years ago and distinctly remember the sandwich roll and not much else. To this day, this roll stood out as the most perfect I’ve ever had and today’s brisket sandwich confirmed my theory. It’s almost as if the restaurant takes deliberate steps to showcase the roll by minimizing the other components. My portion of brisket was a paltry slice and the sauce was not much more than a scanty swipe down one side of the roll. I would go as far as to say that the meat and dressing portions are small enough to raise eyebrows.

But let's focus on the positive. Aforementioned bread is a sweet roll from locally owned Acme Bread Company. The crusty exterior is thin and chewy while the interior is soft and sweet. It's neutral enough to showcase the meat but simultaneously has such a beautiful texture to steal the show. If I could only consume one kind of bread for the rest of my life, this is the one. The spectacular bread, location, solid service, and reasonable prices make Wexler's a place I hope to visit regularly.

*As I review the pictures, the sandos look HUGE! I promise you, it's a thick bed of cabbage creating a false sense of height.

What is Perfection? Quince knows...

It is a rare but beautiful thing when every element of a meal not only come together, but harmonize. It's as if the service, food, and ambiance at Quince fed (<-- pun) off one another to create a more perfect result. In fact, each aspect needed the other to prosper; the food would have been less thrilling had it not been delivered so precisely. Now I'm feeling far too philosophical for my own comfort, but what can I say, after eating at Quince I can't help but feeling closer to God. If nothing else, it's nights like this that affirm my passion for dining out.

I had a special feeling about Quince literally before I walked through the door. The hostess must have seen Adrienne and I approaching, because as I was about to exert energy (oh no, not that!) to open the front door, a smiling hostess appeared from the inside and did it for me. There was nothing creepy or robotic about this gesture; it made me feel welcome. This was just an indication of the impeccable service to follow through the last bite. Napkins were re-folded while I was in the bathroom, the sommelier patiently explained each wine in a language I could understand, and the chorus of servers were ever-present - but in a subtle, dignified way. Not once did I feel rushed or have to wonder where our server was.

Once seated in the main dining room, I needed to take a moment to take it all in. Roughly speaking, the restaurant is a giant square. There's a smaller, open square room smack dab in the middle, where Adrienne and I sat. The spatial difference in the two squares leaves roughly four hallways between the two. One side for the bar, the front side for a more casual lounge area, the back for more dining tables, and the last is occupied by the staff to carry food to and from the kitchen. The grand chandeliers coupled with the neutral-to-dark-brown color schemes creates a simple elegance. One knows this wasn't a cheap interior design, but there's still a refreshing sense of simplicity. The focus is on the food.

I will remember the service as much as I will remember the food. It seems obvious as I write it now, but it wasn't until tonight that I realized how the two truly depend on each other. It was almost as if the positive momentum of the service staff inspired the food forward as well. Shortly after being seated, our server appeared to explain the menu options (a four course prix fixe of your choice or a set five course chef's tasting menu). Shortly after relaying our choices to him, he returned with a half glass of Champagne. Shortly thereafter, he appeared with a bite size fish (I forget which variety) with a shot glass of chilled corn chowder soup. It always amazes me how something so small - even comically small - can taste so good and flavorful. The sip of soup was actually a highlight of the night for each of us. The corn flavoring was so powerful yet chilled and refreshing. The fish was accompanied by literally a square centimeter of watermelon; best nibble of watermelon I'll have in my lifetime.

The four course menu allows each diner to choose from three options per course (and a wine pairing for each). My choices: mushroom sampling to start; Fagotelli with lobster for the pasta course; Black Sea Bass as my main; and milk chocolate semifreddo for dessert. Of the four courses, the mushroom was my least favorite taste-wise but still interesting. The mushrooms are prepared five different ways and the tastes seemed fairly indistinct across the five (especially when compared to the explosion of flavors in the following courses) but this let me really focus on the varying textures of each. It is really amazing to me how a chef can take a seemingly simple vegetable and turn it into a chameleon just by its preparation. The accompanying white wine (a rare 1998 vintage) definitely added to the overall quality of the course.

The second course is when things got eye-popping good. I have always believed pasta is where one can really separate fine dining from the rest and this course supports my theory. There's no doubt the pasta is hand-made and that someone rolled the filling in it shortly before it came to me. About six pieces of Maine lobster-filled pasta pillows were delivered underneath a warm orange soup concoction. The bites of pasta were delicate yet delivered a powerful crab flavor because the pasta is thin and the lobster is generous. At first glance, the dish is more soup than pasta, but it works. The vibrant - and hopefully edible flowers - added an exciting garnish. I had one bite of Adrienne's cheese tortellini and I proclaimed at the time it was one of the best bites I've ever had. Still stand by that.

The next flawlessly-timed dish was Black Sea Bass. The fish itself was a large, juicy fillet with perfectly seared crisp skin. The various accouterments (more mushrooms, a garlic sauce) added a necessary flavor punch to the mild fish. Adrienne was speechless about her lamb - and I could understand why in my bite.

For dessert, I ordered the milk chocolate semifreddo and Adrienne the cheese course. The crust layer of my dessert had such a nice, unexpected crunchy texture which paired well with the smooth top layer. What really impressed me about the cheese course is, after Adrienne chose her four, I joked "those are the four I would have NOT chosen!" and our cheese expert then asked me which ones appealed to me and proceeded to slice me a few complimentary tastes. He didn't have to do that. A more uptight staff probably wouldn't have. It was a small gesture that had a lasting impact on me.

I can't help but compare all fine dining experiences to Gary Danko. Having thought it over for a few days, I'd rather revisit Quince than Danko. All aspects considered, it was simply an overall more pleasing culinary experience.

2 for 2 in Laurel Heights

The latter half of last week was marked by two terrific meals in the Laurel Heights neighborhood (W(here)TF is that, you ask? Nestled slightly southwest of Pacific Heights; marked by a lot of strollers, BMW SUVs, maternity clothing stores, and big houses with back yards probably occupied by important business people). There are only a handful of restaurants in that neighborhood, but come to think of it, they’ve all been excellent in my experience (these two, Osteria, and Sociale are all winners).

On a whim, Jac and I met at Garibaldi's to capitalize on the amazing Happy Hour menu advertised on their website. Everything on the menu is half off from 5-6:30, 7 days a week; and the results turned out even better in reality than on paper. As one should expect in Laurel Heights, Garibaldi’s is a quiet place dominated by Senior Citizens. This shouldn’t be a problem if you’re looking for an audible conversation with your companion.

Jac and I started with two appetizers: Hummus dip and fig & prosciutto wraps. The portion size and quality were both pleasing, even before considering they were $3.50 each. Similarly, drinks won’t run you more than $6 a pop if you get there early. With nearly 20 wines, cocktails, and beer choices to choose from, even the pickiest of drinkers are bound to find a good choice. Lastly, we split the burger ($7) which was about as good as they come. The kitchen even took the time to split it for us before it came out.

Service also hit the mark. I’ve noticed bartenders tend to blow you off when they know you won't be racking up a huge tab. But our bartender was extremely generous with his pours and even brought out a few tastes of wine that weren't on the Happy Hour menu without charging us. It is little touches like this that engrain a restaurant into my memory and inspire me to tell everyone I know about it (which I have).
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Mom’s out of town and we’re going to party!

Fast forward about 16 hours and I’m picking my dad up to head to Spruce for lunch. We knew beforehand my mom would be out of town, so we deliberately picked a place where we could splurge without her judging eye (she knows, she supports it). I ended up taking the day off from work, so the two of us ventured out of the FiDi back to Laurel Heights (I have reviewed Spruce for dinner).

I think the same elderly diners at Garibaldi’s rallied back to Spruce for lunch the next day; my dad is nearly 65 and he was a spring chicken compared to the rest of the diners. We both observed that Spruce filled up much later than restaurants do in the Financial District and that the average age of the diners is much higher. This was my first time in the main dining room and there is something so regal about it: high ceilings, throne-like chairs, and an abundance of mahogany everything.

After my eye-opening burrata experience at A16, I’ve been eager to compare it to others in the city. Spruce’s take was much different, as the burrata came alongside a cherry salad but no toast. The cheese and salad were both excellent individually but I struggled to see how they related to each other. I don’t think I’m alone in thinking cheese should be served with some sort of bread or crostini to deliver it. This isn’t exactly a criticism, but I suppose I preferred A16’s.

Spruce’s city famous burger was calling my name loudly, but having had it before, I resisted and opted for the short rib sugo (from one fork-only cut of beef to the next). The dish just had so much…flavor. Warm, hearty flavor. The aromas of the slow cooked beef meshed so well with the bed of crunchy risotto underneath it. My glass of Pinot Noir completed the deal. The portion isn’t huge but it feels hearty. My dad surprised me by ordering the omelette; I don’t think one can go wrong with several types of cheeses folded into a thick wrap of eggs.

Dessert wasn’t even a question and we chose a “peanut butter & jelly” concoction. The wedge consisted of several layers, but I’ll forever remember the crunchy peanut butter layer – and how it tasted going down with a hint of chocolate. I don’t think it’ll go down as my favorite dessert ever, but it was a delightful end to a great meal.

The service was flawless. Our server was always there to attend to our needs but never overwhelmed us. Having been to Spruce twice now, I file it in the “special occasion place where you know you’ll have a great meal and will be well taken care of.”

(pics are of Spruce only)

Olympic Club Wins Gold

8am phone calls on a Sunday morning are rarely a good thing, except when it’s your friend asking you to join her at an all-you-can-eat dinner that night. Oh, and offering to pick up the tab because she’s in a “use it or lose it situation.” Such was my morning this past weekend when Brooke called to invite me to dinner at the Olympic Club by Lake Merced.

When I stepped into the main dining room, I was immediately taken back to the days of country club lunches with my Grandma Roberts: expansive golf course views, maroon and gold carpeting, and not a patron under the age of 75. PERFECT setting for a mellow Sunday night. The light Pinot Noir (Angeline, 2008) and sunset views added to my wonderful sense of relaxation.

It’s been years since I last ate at a buffet, but I haven’t forgotten the key to success: one must take at least two full laps around the grounds to survey all the food options. Once this is completed, you can pick up a plate and start piling. Making the rounds is critical in identifying your Tier 1, Tier 2, and Pass choices. As I suspected it would be, "O Club" (as members call it) was way more than your neighborhood Sizzler buffet. When I think back to the night, I see smoked salmon, raw oysters, mushroom salad, deviled eggs, prime rib, cheese platter, Caeser salad, crab legs, shrimp cocktail, and a variety of pastas. I was almost relieved to see the prime rib as the main meat, because I can easily pass that up. I focused more on fish: the smoked salmon & cream cheese, the oyster shooters, and crab legs. The salmon, in particular, was as good as I’ve had anywhere (and helped to erase the salmon nightmare of Friday).

A buffet isn't complete without a killer dessert bar. There were many tempting choices (bite sizes pie crumbles, chocolate mousse, creme brulee, fudge brownies, to name a few) but I zeroed in on the bread pudding. As I explained to Brooke, bread puddings are like snowflakes because no two are the same. I typically prefer a warm, gooey variety but found myself quite pleased with the dense, firm consistency here. The vanilla sauce provided just the right level of moisture.

What I liked about this buffet is that it wasn't too overwhelming. There was a wide variety of choices to please people of all dietary preferences, but I never felt like I couldn't try everything I wanted to. Now I just gotta work on weasling my way into next year’s US Open golf tournament.

I could make that! (And that’s not a compliment!)

Another Friday, another lunch with the parents. The itinerary for this day held Hecho, a new Japanese slash Tequila joint in the Financial District (yes, that’s the first time I’ve seen that combination also). My meal will probably go down as one of the most disappointing I’ve had in the last four years. In all fairness to Hecho, my parents made wiser choices than I, and were proportionally happier.

Factoring in my dad’s offer to share pieces of his monstrous sushi and sashimi platter, I opted for the grilled fish of the day (salmon). Perhaps this was my naiveté, but I expected them to grill it and then put something top of it. Or add a side. Or nestle it on top of a bed of something. Something, ANYTHING to mark it as their own. I can tell you exactly what they did to prepare it: they sprayed a pan with non-stick Pam, dropped a Costco salmon fillet on it, waited a few minutes, flipped it, and then put it on my plate. It was dry, bland, boring, and completely unsatisfying (thank goodness for the Luna bar in my purse, which I downed immediately). I resorted to pouring Soy sauce on top of it to give it some sort of personality. My request to grill it rare apparently fell on deaf ears as it was overcooked and dry. The accompanying white rice, three-bite house salad, and miso soup did very little to save the situation. I simply expect more for $16.

My parents fared a bit better. My dad was served a generous sampling of sushi and sashimi, but I would expect such at a $24 price tag. I had a bite of my mom’s fried tuna filet and thought it was decent but nothing mouth watering.

To add insult to injury, the ambiance left much to be desired. The service was particularly slow. The furniture was uncomfortable; the backless bar stools are so low to the ground that I felt I sat down at the kids’ table and my bum started to ache before the entree arrived. The paper napkins were the nail in the coffin for me; they are totally acceptable if the food and prices are similarly casual. But when most selections on the menu are $16-24, the restaurant needs to spring for cloth napkins (and a freaking dressing for the fish).

Back on my A List

A16 is trendy, always crowded, hip, and - until Tuesday night - in my opinion extremely overrated. I remember being totally confused about the hype when I went; their celebrated pizzas were decent but nothing to write home about. I had a completely different experience this time around.

Jac chose the Chestnut Street spot to celebrate her 29th birthday. The bar area was already filling up when we walked in at 6pm (on a Tuesday night) but we managed to find two spots by the entrance. I have to admit, A16 is a cool place to eat: the bartenders are friendly and knowledgeable; the lighting and ambiance is upscale without being pretentious; and in both my visits, the other bar patrons are interesting and social. Jac and I scored free 49er tickets from the former player sitting next to us by the time we left.

The food itself was as favorable as the ambiance. We started with the Burrata appetizer, a mild cheese that actually looks like scrambled egg whites. The cheese reminds me of Mozzarella because it's nearly flavorless; the olive oil and sea salt is what truly brings it to life. It is firm but still spreadable. It is a perfectly light treat to enjoy before main course.

Next came the Arugula and frisee salad with medjool dates, almonds and pecorino monte poro. Again, the chefs nail the balance between lightness and flavor. The salad is very lightly dressed, allowing the diner to savor the fresh leaves and dates. Who knew something so healthy could be so tasty.

The main attraction Tuesday was the Salsiccia pizza. The beautiful crust came topped with fennel sausage, spring onions, mozzarella, tomato, grana, garlic, chilies, olive oil. In my opinion, a crust is what makes the pizza (because if all else fails, I can scrape off the toppings and enjoy good bread). As you can see from the picture, the crust is expertly blackened, while the center part is thin yet still sturdy enough to support the toppings. I still stand by my claim that Osteria Stellina is the best pizza I've ever had, but this is somewhere in the top five. The only criticism I have is I know in a few weeks I won't recall exactly what was on top of the pizza. The toppings tasted good at the time, but they weren't "once in a lifetime" memorable. By contrast, I can still name each beautiful topping on Stellina's pie.

A16 is very much back in my good graces. It's a versatile place too. I'd recommend it for a casual midweek night out, a first date, a special occasion, or to dine alone at the bar. This gets me thinking of other sub-par visits that deserve a second chance...