Post 105: dineLA - A Top Chef's Hospitality - Stefan's at LA Farm (LA: Santa Monica)

From San Diego Restaurant Week, we move back up to the City of Angels for our own restaurant showcase called dineLA.  At Ken's suggestion we selected Stefan's at LA Farm for its six course dineLA menu.  Chef Stefan Richter from the fifth season of Top Chef prepared the only six course menu.  That made for some easy decision making.

At the end of a long Monday in the office, the only thing I wanted to do was sit at the bar and have a drink.  So sit at the bar we did... except that was all we did because the bartender did not notice my desperate plea for alcohol.  No matter.  Chef Richter saw my frustration and jumped behind the counter to pour a glass of whiskey for me.  He recommended a super smokey Laphroaig 10 year Scotch whiskey.  Chef dropped two ice cubes in the whiskey glass and suggested to take one sip right at that moment and then again only after the ice melted.  It was seriously smokey... like a chimney during Christmas kind of smokey.

The strain of corporate America eased up, and the tension of another manic Monday melted away.  Here is our six course meal.

Michael's starter course: Cali crudo with thinly sliced hamachi and lime yuzu vinaigrette.  I always enjoy starting a meal off with raw or fresh ingredients.  It is a smart way to ease the palette into multiple courses with lighter flavors and relatively cooler temperatures.

Ken's starter course: Roasted acorn squash salad with burrata and walnuts.  Continuing with raw ingredients we were served more fresh farm fare.  The burrata cheese had a bit of acidity that worked to bring out the earthy sweetness of the squash.

Michael's pasta course: Pumpkin raviolo with brown butter and pecorino.  The brown butter combined with a fresh pasta made for a classic flavor.  I was glad that Chef did not use butternut squash in the ravioli... it is used entirely too often.

Ken's pasta course: Mushroom risotto with hen of the woods fungus and bleu cheese.  It was creamy and al dente, savory and earthy.  Mushrooms, as opposed to meats, always provide suitable flavor without making risotto or pasta dishes too greasy.

Michael's soup course: Acorn squash soup.  I was so surprised by the flavors in the soup.  It was so intense because there was a sweetness from the squash, but I also tasted hints of cinnamon and nutmeg in it.  It was reminiscent of Thanksgiving pumpkin pie.  I love that the creme fraiche was there to balance out the intensity of the flavors.

Ken's soup course: Smoked leek & potato soup.  The soup was not bad, but it tasted much milder after having spoonfuls of the intense acorn squash soup first.  Ken started with this one, so he was able to taste the leek and potato more.

Michael's fish course: West Coast halibut cooked with brik dough, zatar spice, edamame, chanterelle & shimeiji.  There was a good sear on the exterior, and the fish itself was soft and almost fluffy. 

Ken's fish course: Crispy white fish with chipotle butter, black beans, cilantro, corn, green beans.  I liked the abundance of vegetables because it prevented the dish from feeling heavy from the butter.  The crisp fish skin was a plus.

Michael's meat course: Beef tenderloin.  Celery root mash, hollandaise sauce.  Slightly raw meat... good.  Hollandaise sauce... good.  Celery root mash to sub for potato mash... good too.  This dish had warmth, which I think is very important for the diner to feel full toward the end of the meal.

Ken's meat course: Duck breast.  The braised red cabbage and lingonberry sauce had a slight sourness that contrasted the savory flavor of the duck breast.  The pretzel galette with the herbs and spices tasted like a bread stuffing that usually goes with turkey during the holidays.  This dish was a creative way to pair poultry and starch.  The duck was so tender.  So good.

Michael's dessert course: Apple beignet.  A different take on classic American apple pie a la mode? Hell yeah.  The crunchy crumbles and chocolate curls are always welcome on my dessert plate.  And ice cream? Bring it on.

Ken's dessert course: Coffee & vanilla panna cotta.  Panna cotta is a favorite of both mine and Ken's.  I have only ever had a uniform flavor of panna cotta, so to see the swirl of coffee and vanilla together sparked more than just curiosity.  I preferred some sort of whipped cream to tie the final course together, but it was good nonetheless.

Ken and I thoroughly enjoyed our experience at Stefan's, especially because Chef made a full fledged effort to introduce himself and immerse in conversation.  We also appreciated that Chef and his staff complied with my troublesome request to walk into the kitchen after each dish was prepared to take photographs.  Thank you very much Chef Richter for the hospitable welcome and delicious meal.  And we will definitely take you up on the chance to have a meal in the kitchen while you run your "shit show."  I can't wait.

The event celebrating Chef Stefan's 15th anniversary in America is upcoming and will feature a three course preset menu for 15 per person.  Until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20130128

Post 96: Two Times Quartino (Chicago: Near North Side)

In my very short trip in Chicago, most of which was spent in the suburbs by O' Hare Airport, I managed to come across Quartino twice.  The first time was a planned dinner with an old friend.  The second time was accidental... the result of a digestive walk after consuming Chicagoland staples on Ontario Street.  Quartino, is a tapas restaurant, but one that specializes in Italian small plates rather than the traditional Spanish snacks.  The menu is extensive, ranging from pizza to pasta to risotto.  There is a section for salumi and formaggi, and three of the eight folds in the paper menu are dedicated to wine.  Quartino was an ideal place to meet Jen, my friend from back home who had recently moved to the Windy City.

Whether sitting at the bar in the afternoon or settling down for dinner in the evening, the meat and cheese charcuterie is one that must be ordered.  The full platter is of salumeria tasting is two selection of meat and cheese each, three spuntini, and an assortment of olives.  The star of the salumi on the menu is definitely the house made duck proscuitto, a seasoned duck breast that is smooth and fatty, peppery and fragrant, vibrant and beautiful.  Another highlight is the fontina val d'aosta, a cow's milk cheese that is creamy and soft, and perfectly spreadable over crusty bread.

And now we turn to the dishes we ordered for dinner the night before.  The first thing we ordered was crisp calamari, which has become a must as an Italian appetizer.  It was cut in wide curls, and it was so fresh.  It was not overcooked to the point of tasting like a rubber band, just tender in the middle and slightly crisp from the breading on the outside.  The lemon and organic tomato sauce only added to its freshness.  It had to have been one of the best calamari plates I have ever had.

The next item we ordered was the sea scallops, grilled with beautiful sear impressions with a hint of lemon and caperberries.  There are not too many ways to grill sea scallops, so I appreciated that the restaurant served them on a bed of vegetables and sliced peppers in a buttery sauce.  The peppers gave a pleasant kick to an otherwise mild dish.  It wasn't completely out of the ordinary, but it was just different enough to make this dish have its own personality.

When Jen and I saw that angus beef carpaccio was on the menu, we had to order it.  Any carpaccio, tartare, or steak for that matter, is simply a favorite of mine.  Topped with shaved celery, parmigiano reggiano and extra virgin olive oil, the dish was a perfect balance of savory protein, salty dairy, and light greens.  I really liked that celery leaves were shaved along with the stalk.  The celery leaves gave the dish a very clean taste.  My only wish was that the cheese was grated as thin as the beef, but it was good nonetheless.

For a more substantial dish, we also ordered the roasted Tuscan sausage and peppers.  It was the first truly meaty dish that was served during the meal.  Even though the calamari and the scallops were hot dishes, the sausage and peppers were the first dish to make me feel warm.  Thanks to this dish I had forgotten all about the elements in the Windy City.  It was raining, and the wind was definitely blowing hard.

Of the four risotto dishes on the menu, we selected the mushroom risotto made with portobello, balsamic and pork stock.  The risotto was creamy and hearty, cooked to just al dente.  The comforting, hot food was a smart way to cap off the meal to make us feel full and satisfied. 

Even though we were absolutely stuffed, we had to have dessert.  Okay, so maybe I had to have dessert, and I conned Jen into joining me for dessert.  First were the zeppole, freshly made Italian doughnuts that were like a cross between giant donut holes and mini cream puffs.  They were dusted with powdered sugar on top and served with chocolate dipping sauce on the side.  Chocolate, of course, made the deep fried ball of dough that much better.

We also got chocolate cake.  What's wrong with us? Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs that night... maybe not just that night.  The torta al cioccolato topped with vanilla gelato sealed the deal for the night.  The hot chocolate cake melted the gelato too quickly, so I had no choice but to order another scoop.  Jen looked at me like I was crazy, but a cold gelato must be eaten the proper way.  I made sure to walk up and down the stairs to the bathroom a number of times to somehow stir up the digestion.  I'm not sure it worked out the way I had thought.

It had been years since I had eaten with Jen, but it seemed like we made up for all the lost meals in one night.  I was very glad that we were able to catch up while trying a variety of different Italian dishes all done tapas style.  With all the food that we had ordered for two people, I was surprised that we didn't even order from the pizza or pasta section.  That, I guess, will be saved for next time.  It was good to see both Jen and Chicago again.  Jen, come back and visit soon! Until the next business trip, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20121018-19

Post 85: Fight for Foie - A Farewell (LA-SGV: Pasadena)

Earlier this year I attended Fight for Foie at Haven Gastropub in Old Town Pasadena.  The event was held in support of keeping the fatty goose liver on restaurant menus in California.  Proponents of the ban on foie gras argue that force feeding geese and ducks in order to plump their livers up is inhumane.  Those against the ban on foie gras say that palatable poultry do not have gag reflexes and that the birds naturally overeat in the wild anyway.  Both sides made their voices heard.  Despite the dozens of protesters outside the restaurant armed with picket signs, iPads, and fliers, drovers of foie gras fiends continued to walk into the restaurant to dine on the delicious delicacy.  I was one of them.  As soon as the restaurant opened for this private event, my friends with foie fetishes and I dined on a multi-course (seven to nine courses depending on how it's counted) tasting menu designed all around the fiendishly fatty foie.

We were first treated to an amuse bouche in the form of a foie gras lollipop rolled in crushed pistachio.  The look reminded me of a See's Candies lollipop because of its rectangular shape, but the texture of this foie lolli was nothing like rock hardness of the See's candy.  It was soft to the bite, but it was densely packed with liver fattiness.  One bite and we knew we were in trouble.  The first course had not even arrived yet.

Our first course was a smoked foie gras torchon surrounded by oatmeal crumb, spiced orange rind, and sorrel.  The pate of foie gras was cooked after being wrapped in a towel allowing it to retain all of its moisture and original flavor.  It was luxuriously smooth with the crunch of the oatmeal, and it was buttery and spicy... and very insanely rich.  Connie and I could not continue savoring the foie gras without ordering some hot tea... but props to Ken for not only finishing his foie but mine and Connie's as well.  Holy...

Next we were served foie for breakfast complete with duck blood biscuits, duck bacon and a sunny side quail egg.  In the world where turkey is the most popular form of bacon made from poultry, this duck bacon was definitely a taste for sore taste buds.  The deep crimson color of the duck was beautiful and had a profound depth of flavor to match. 

The biscuits had a few drops of duck blood in each one, and they were accompanied by an airy whipped foie butter and pickled cherry jam.  The biscuit was crumbly like a cookie but cohesive like a shortbread.  The tartness of the pickled cherry jam peaked through the foie butter at the right moment.  It was almost like an adult version, albeit a very expensive adult version, of the classic PB&J.  This course was creative and clearly set itself apart from the previous course, which was basically an offensively large chunk of foie gras.

After breakfast came a creamy foie soup with strips of chicken skin, bottarga, and hearts of palm.  I'm all for crispy textures against a soft or sultry background, but the chicken skin was not a favorite of mine.  Bottarga, a cured fish roe that is also known as the poor man's caviar, was dotted throughout the soup.  The soup itself was perhaps a bit too airy and not as concentrated as I would have hoped... although perhaps a more concentrated foie soup may have provided the basic elements to trigger a heart attack.

A meal heavy in fatty foods definitely calls for a few digestive walks, so I walked over to the open kitchen to discover the many chefs, servers, and other staff hard at work.  Since the majority of the restaurant patrons began dinner service at the same time, the kitchen was busy preparing dozens of the next course.  Although coordinating a multiple course foie gras tasting menu requires relentless energy and effort, the chefs and staff made the dinner service seem effortless.

After an amuse bouche and three courses of foie gras, a wild escolar with roasted foie gras, petit pois a la francais, and sauce albufera was presented.  The fresh fish and English peas made for an initially lighter dish, but the Hollandaise and béchamel sauces helped tie the richness of the foie gras back in.  This was a sous vide fish, and it was very mild and ambivalent in a good way.  After a heavy onset of fatty foie, the fish dish returned the heaviness back to center, which made for a pleasant course in the middle of the meal.  Many thanks to the crescent of lemon for the help.

A multiple course meal isn't a multi-course meal without a pasta dish.  Our pasta dish was a tortellini in duck tongue brodo.  The pasta was stuffed with foie gras and rhubarb, and beech brown mushrooms and micro celery floated around in the broth.  It was St. Patrick's Day at first sight, but the foie gras didn't exactly start a party in my mouth.  The foie gras was a bit too soft, and the tortellini skin was a bit too thick for the soft foie texture.  A ravioli may have been a better pairing with the foie, but it may also have been too predictable... though the mushrooms did complement the broth well.

The blackberry sorbet intermezzo arrived two courses before the end of the meal... and it could not come quickly enough.  By this time in the meal my friends and I decided that we would only take one bite of the remaining dishes because the foie gras was so rich in fat.  I could feel my heart beating faster than normal.  My body was trying to tell me something... that perhaps banning foie gras in California would be better for my health... although I did not like the idea of having to travel to another state just to satiate a foie gras craving.  The sorbet was quite refreshing, but it was not enough to truly cleanse my palate.  I ordered another cup of hot tea... my fifth or sixth now.

The penultimate course came in the form of a za'atar crusted squab with a foie gras pastilla, fennel, and Meyer lemon.  The dill and fennel done three ways were cool and revitalized my palate a bit.  The dish paired the flavors and textures well.  This was my first time having squab, and it was quite delicious.  The fattiness of the squab was quite similar in texture and flavor to the foie itself.  The foie gras pastilla could be described as an egg roll stuffed with soft foie.  It was something I could have much more of if it was served as an individual appetizer or earlier in the meal.  The crackle of the pastilla wrapper was music to my ears... but half a dozen courses of foie gras in, and I was about to throw in the towel.

Naturally the final course was dessert.  And if there was anything that was both a blessing and a death omen combined, it was this duo of foie gras cheesecake and foie gras bon bon.  The vanilla crumble, hibiscus gel and micro tangerine lace were light and just sweet enough.  The chocolate in the bon bon presented a balanced, chilled sweetness.  Ken exclaimed that he was so happy to see chocolate... whether it was because he actually just likes chocolate, or it was because chocolate seemed so light in comparison to all the foie gras we had just eaten... well, I'm not sure.  But my thoughts exactly... something sweet after all the savory fattiness was quite the blessing.  Connie thought the cheesecake just tasted like cream cheese, but I this was the death omen.  I understand that foie gras and cheesecake blend well together, but something lighter and more refreshing as the final course would have fared better.  One bite of the cheesecake, and the towel was in.  Time for some more hot tea.

All in all the multiple course Fight for Foie was quite the experience... one that I would never forget.  The many different chefs all put their best foot (feet) forward in terms of presenting the best examples of their foie gras dishes.  However, the meal was quite heavy and may have helped the protesters prove the point that the ducks and geese are tortured during their overfeeding.  I felt a little overfed and plumped up myself.

But at the end of the day, the choice to eat organic vegetables, sustainable seafood, or meat products that have not been augmented by the human hand should be the choice of the consumer.  This should not be dictated by any government body whether state or federal.  Those who want to eat will find a way to eat what they want to eat.  Banning foie gras in California may cause avid diners to spend their money in states that permit the sale of foie gras.  Nearby foodie cities such as Seattle and Portland or even big dining cities as far away as Chicago and New York may see a slight boost in their economies at the expense of LA and San Francisco simply because a product in demand is offered there rather than here.  Let that be some food for thought.  Let the Fight for Foie continue on.  Until the next fatty meal, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

This post features photography by Ken Lee.

ML - 20120312

Post 59: Decimated by that Ten-Course Omakase (LA-South Bay: Torrance)

After seeing pictures from the last omakase I had, a soon-to-be-wed Mr. Zhou said, "I want that."  And that he was about to get.  So the more we talked about that, and the more others heard about that, the more people wanted that.  So that became an event, and I made it my duty to gather together the long lost souls of my fraternity (and their significant others) so we could have... that. 

That became a ten-course omakase at Hirose in Torrance.  In a tiny, little shop in a gigantic strip mall, ten of us attempted to devour ten courses (each) of freshly prepared Japanese art.  Some succeed... some failed.  Some were smart and decided against decimation.  The only Japanese one at the table went for the teriyaki instead... maybe they know something the remaining Sinos and Formosans don't..?  Hmm...

This is what our that looked like... and if it seems like the pictures get progressive blurry, it's because they do.  Somewhere along the second or third course, I thought it was an incredibly intelligent idea to pair the remaining courses with a shot of sake (each)... and then some.  The day after this omakase meal was the Sunday of Father's Day, and let's just say I learned how to say hangover in Mandarin.  See how many sake glasses you count in the pictures below...

Braised pork
bonito fish broth

Itadakimasu! One bite of a simple cube of pork started off the meal.  Not only was it balanced by the savory flavor of the soy and the sweetness of the swine, the lean meat to fat ratio was perfectly balanced as well.  The green onions provided just a hint of fresh crunch to the square.

Sardines ambish

Ambish? Korewa nandesu ka? To my knowledge this word is not in the English dictionary.  Trust me, I looked it up via Webster and Google.  But from what the server told us, ambish is a word that describes something that has been deep fried and then submerged in vinegar.  So that is exactly what we had for our second course... a duo of deep fried, battered sardines served chilled in a dish of light vinegar.  Not eye opening, but horrible either... something to jump start the saliva, I guess.

Duck with potato salad
red and green shishito peppers

Two succulent pieces of duck lay atop a fluffy bed of whipped potato.  The potato salad had just enough mayo to make it creamy, but it wasn't so delicious that it stole the duck's thunder.  The duo of dueling colored shishito peppers added a vibrant color to the presentation, but the tender and flavorful duck was still the star of the dish.  Oishii desu. 

Raw oyster with ikura

Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! When the fresh oyster had arrived, a little school girl's scream may have been heard at the table.  And it may have been me.  As small as this little devil was, it was just enough as a teaser to prep my tongue for the fresh fish that was about to arrive.  Although the two drops of ikura on top tempted many of us to order another round.

Sashimi course
Yellowfin tuna, bluefin tuna, amberjack, octopus, sesame sebring snapper

Glistening fresh, vibrant in color, smooth in texture... what more could you ask for in a sashimi course? The chef even skipped out on the salmon and yellowtail that's typically served and presented us with some rare choices such as amberjack and sesame sebring.  The yellowfin and bluefin tuna were both meaty, yet they melted away with ease.  And the color of the sesame sebring was as beautiful as a fluffy white cloud with a metaphoric silver lining.

Salmon, tofu, yam and pumpkin braised in shoyu broth
This is usually a dish made at home and simmered in a large pot by an obachan.  Like a pot roast or a beef stew, it's a hearty and somewhat soupy dish that is supposed to conjure up feelings of home and the warmth of grandma's kitchen from childhood.  Halfway through the bowl of tofu and yam, I started missing the oden that my grandma makes.  You know it's good when the chef can give you a feeling of home in the form of a bowl of veggies.

Tempura course
fish stuffed zucchini flower, snow crab leg, salmon wrapped with shiso tempura

This tempura zucchini flower was the product of a delicate Japanese ingenuity.  Flaky white fish was the hidden surprise inside the flower of a vegetable that seemed to have more aesthetic appeal than nutritional value.  The zucchini flower announced its subtle flavor without even a whisper.  No self gloat, no bragging, just simple confidence.  Just a little sea salt, and it's good to go.  No tempura sauce necessary.

Beef top sirloin over five vegetables
bamboo shoot, Brussels sprout, eggplant and yuzu, pear and string bean, Yukon potato

Another dish was presented to us with an attention to detail so microscopic that only the Japanese can claim.  Five pieces of medium rare beef sat on top of a line of five different complementary vegetables, all of which provided the meat with a evenly balanced texture and flavor.  Not only were the vegetables merely placed beneath the beef, they also  helped anchor the beef in a way that helped us enjoy the angled presentation.  My favorite was the yuzu essence that somehow made its way down either side of the plate so that even the bamboo shoot on the far left and the potato on the far right was influenced by a hint of the spicy pepper.  Consistency over variation... I liked that.

Noodles with chicken yaki 
grated daikon radish, ginger, and sesame in soba sauce

Although the noodles were accredited as the lead in this dish, it was the supporting elements that really helped the dish come together.  White meat chicken and carefully grated radish along with ginger and sesame created a harmonious lightness that was a great way to end the meal.  Many times, Asian cultures (think Chinese and Korean) serve carbs (think fried rice) as the final dish to ensure that the guest has been stuffed full... but Hirose found a way to nudge us close to 100% rather than pushing us over the brink of satiation. 

Azuki red bean mousse
grapefruit, melons and mint

Nine courses down... one to go.  Even if you're stuffed, how can you refuse dessert? It's dessert! The good thing is that the dessert was served in a shotglass-sized cup... bad thing is that the shotglass-sized cup reminded me of all the sake we already drank.  And if there is just one lesson that I have learned from the glory days of college, it's that dairy and alcohol don't mix.  Remembering my lessons learned, I decided to have some fruit... and pass the mousse down.  Okay, I had one little bite, and it was smooth, creamy, but delightfully light... a nice way to finish a ten-course meal formerly known as "that."

As I channel the emotions I felt at the end of that dinner for this post, I sensed a gradual creep of the infamous post large meal food coma... which is what I sense now.  A slow, lethargic, I want to stop writing kind of feeling.  I feel decimated.  And so... the writing shall stop.  Until the next omakase, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20110618

Post 41: Harmonious Presentation

The night before the trip to the Happiest Place on Earth, my dad prepared some simple dishes just to help celebrate the occasion.  It was probably more presentation than actual preparation, but regardless, the dishes looked very... err... harmonious... like they were all coexisting quite peacefully together.  Here are some of the more beautifully arranged dishes.

A gleaming assortment of fruit.
Green grapes, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries.
Fruit tastes best when someone else washes and peels it for you.

Abalone sashimi still chillin' in its shell.
Just a tiny squeeze of lemon and a hint of wasabi is enough.
This is my abalone.  Sea otters, stay away.

Ika and ikura.
The salty salmon roe on a bed of fluffy steamed white rice is a favorite.

The hexagon of appetizers.
Saltwater chicken, salmon sashimi, octopus sashimi up front.
Smoked duck with ginger, braised beef, yellowtail sashimi in the back.

Mango mousse cake.
Frances Bakery in Little Tokyo has the most fragrant and flavorful mango mousse.
Our family has been coming here for more than 25 years.

I was a very happy camper after this meal.  But watching my dad put together a meal reminds me of where my passion for food comes from.  Like father like son, I guess...

Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20101130/20101120

Post 20.2: Flashback - San Francisco, Part 2 (May 2009)

I experienced a whirlwind of international flavors while on my short weekend trip in San Francisco last May... from breakfast at one of the city's many casual cafes to dinner at finer Vietnamese fare... to saliva-inducing spicy Szechuan Chinese to milder Mediterranean munchies... here's a look at the many marvelous meals from that weekend.

Breakfast @ Cafe Capriccio (San Francisco: North Beach)

I had an open-faced bagel piled high with turkey, fresh tomatoes, red onions, mozzarella, basil.  Yum! I really liked that Capriccio packed the tomatoes high.  One stingy slice of tomato in my sandwiches just doesn't do it for me.  And I liked that the mozzarella topped off the sandwich rather than congealing to the bottom slice of the bagel.  It sorta Saran-wrapped the tomatoes and onions together, preventing the pagoda pile from toppling over.  Call it my love for organizations, but I like! And some fragrant basil and a bit of coarsely ground black pepper for minor oomph? Like, like, like!

Dinner @ Out the Door (San Francisco: Union Square)

While we ordered quite a few dishes from the menu, there were two that caught the attention of my taste buds.  The first was the green papaya salad.  I don't normally like the papaya smell or flavor, but the combination of sweet, spicy, and sour was strangely addicting.  I kept telling myself to save my appetite for the forthcoming courses, but while waiting for the dishes to arrive, I began to pick out the peanuts.  One thing led to another, and of course my chopsticks picked up strand after strand of the green papaya.  

The other dish that quickly became a favorite was the crispy duck.  Oh, how I couldn't (and still can't) resist beautifully, golden, crispy skin of pork or poultry.  The meat under the wonderfully crispy skin was tender, moist, and juicy.  Wow, it was like the double trifecta of poultry perfection: skin x (beautiful, golden, crispy) + meat x (tender, moist, juicy).  I honestly couldn't ask for more.  Well, I could... another order please?

Dinner @ Spices (San Francisco: Inner Richmond)

What a fitting name: Spices! The only way the restaurant's name could be any more fitting is if it's changed to Spicy-as-hell.  One dish at this restaurant had officially caused a near-death experience for me.  The mini spicy tofu cubes had a bite that created a psychotic spiciness in my ears.  As beads of sweat rolled down and around my eyebrows, my ears rang with panicked alarm.  Some seeds from the Szechuan chili pepper must have slipped into my mouth somehow, and one off-bite must have caused the seed's juice to explode.  Not water, not tea, not yogurt smoothies (I know understand why those drinks are on the menu) could prevent the forest fire from spreading across the prairie of tastebuds.  Sorry, Smokey.  Call me crazy, but I'd chomp down on these little tofu bombs again.  I'd be crazy not to.

Lunch @ Oasis Grill (San Francisco: Financial District)

I met up with Grace while during her lunch break.  She frequently called me during her lunch breaks to describe what she was having.  Ugh, although it's nice to hear her voice, it's not so nice to hear the delicious meal she was having.  So when I finally made it up to SF on a weekday, Grace grabbed the chance to introduce me to one of her usual lunch spots.

Grace ordered the chicken shawarma.  And while I was pondering over all the menu options (and irritating the on-the-go bankers with my turtle-like decision-making process), Grace instructed, "Get the chicken shawarma.  It's good."  I obliged.  After all, it's the first item on the menu. 

We grabbed our shawarmas and hopped on over to the area across from the Ferry Building for our Greek grub.  On this beautiful day in the San Francisco, those who spent 8+ hours a day in the Embarcadero buildings enjoyed their lunch while basking in the sun.  Ah, shit like that makes me happy.

The super enormous chicken shawarma made me happy too.  It was almost the length of my forearm.  The simple wrap was filled with rotisserie chicken, lettuce, tomato, and a gastronomically gourmet garlic sauce.  The garlic sauce, although typically thought of as a mere condiment, was absolute gold in my eyes.  The sauce added a flavorful bite to the lettuce and tomato and was a mediator of moisture for the chicken.

I suddenly envied all those who worked at the Embarcadero buildings.  Suit and tie to work for this? No problem! If I worked in the city, I'd be a regular at Oasis Grill for sure.  I peeled more of the alumnimum foil off, and nom, nom, nommed away.

Halfway through the wrap, I was absolutely full.  That shawarma was BIG.  And upon annoucning that I couldn't eat another bite, I heard an exclamation of, "WEAK SAAAAAUUUCCE."  I stared.  I blinked.  I thought, "this girl just called me weak sauce.  Must.  continue.  eating."  I wasn't about to let a girl beat me at eating forearm-lengthed shawarmas. No failing.

I finished.  "Oooh...," I thought, "San Francisco, you've done me good."  I spotted a portion of the shawarma pushing out from inside my belly... "I shall return."

Until the next trip to San Francisco, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100706/20090516-20