Christopher Gordon wrote:out of these 4 restaurants-
bacar
foreign cinema
salt house
ozumo
yays/nays?
mid-jan '07 business trip Placeholder Certificate 1959(why do you come here? why do you hang around?)
Ahhh...olde Morrissey songs make me smile
San Francisco(etc):
tartine-
how about some Smiths, then? "I'd rather not go back to the old...neighborhood" ...one of my yesteryear haunts Guerrero and 18th-ish... this was our first stop in the city: a cashier dressed as if she just stepped out of one of Lautrec's bar scenes except for the bundled dreads and tats *wonder if she's in a band* sexy breads pulled from the hearth, piled up on a table, lovely thyme-accented gourgere, espresso(for me), cappucinos(for them), bright, summery lemon tart, eclair, but I don't like chocolate so I just splooshed out the cream
then a stroll up and around Dolores Park, cigarette dangling from my lips to one of my favorite golden hour views of downtown
in & out animal style-
out in Larkspur where we were staying with friends in their spectacular, recently-purchased ark...they had their blood drawn by an insurance croaker at the kitchen table then it was off to In & Out(they didn't exist in the Bay Area when I lived here...it was always Carl's Jr., feh...) Burger rocked...fries, I liked, but as the sage advice goes...you gotta eat 'em quick
on the bridge-
Japantown Mall, bland, plebian mountain vegetable soba, tasty soju drinks in koolaid colors, horrific Japanese pizza---soppy cornmeal "crust,"
chef boyardee sauce, julienned wakame
(original) beard papa-yay! vanilla-speckled custard-filled creampuffs! Others did chocolate and chocolate-covered chocolate, but I don't do chocolate, so there
eddie rickenbacker's-
cocktails, beers, outside with friends(old and new)
owner just inside the door asleep on the couch
slanted door-
dear SD, what's become of you? You're in a beautiful new-to-me space. It's see and be seen. You employ the services of a hot, gargantuan, tattoo-sleeved, hairy, musclebound Aussie waitron who has a tendency to hunker down next to patrons and run through a menu brought to life by his delightful accent. You also retain the "expertise" of a snippy sommelier with bad breath. But what of the cuisine? You've let yourself slide, I'm afraid: now it's merely Californian with a hint of Vietnamese. And okay for all that---we shared shrimp and jicama roll(served sans dipping sauce, yet surprisingly highly-flavored), grilled quails(tasty, grill-y), chicken claypot(eh...pretty much the usual caramel sauce), spicy squid(another one a bit pedestrian, flavorful, decent chile-heat, kinda eh...the waiter warned us off this one opining it was way to spicy...-for him-), grilled Australian free-range lamb rack(waiter rec. and imo the best dish...the tamarind sauce catalysed the unexpectedly-strong lamb...I loved it), spicy Catalan Farm broccoli w/ honshimeji mushrooms and pressed tofu(tofu yumm-o)...what'd we have? A drier Riesling, I believe and cocktails and beers and then more at the bar after dinner.
pizzeria pico-
Larkspur, redwoods, woodfired pizzas, swimming with the drowning sun, musical chairs so we don't all get tanned down one side, rose', white pizza, potato pizza, eggplant/shrimp/tomato pizza, gorgonzola pizza where we sub-arugula
*we had to order an arugula salad to be placed atop the pizza...it was stressing the poor California girl server the fuck out*
for pancetta=
friends don't dig pig, margherita pizza, get buzzed in past the oven
*cool!* to use the men's room.
bacar-
see and be seen, but more of a Dockers crowd, asshole barstaff, friendly waitstaff, annoyingly tiny men's room, expensive-for-what-it-is California cuisine: sonoma foie flan(mmm...buttery foie), diver scallops(tender), applewood-smoked bacon-wrapped venison *I was in a deer mood, and, as expected, the bacon totally overwhelmed the meat...good herbed spaetzle, tho'*, they were out of Old Chatham's Nancy's camembert so I went with a favorite, Cowgirl Creamery Redhawk with honeycomb...no one wanted to share my stinky cheese, alas...more for me...
...someone else picked some cult red and there was an Italian and also a gin gimlet from the asshole bartender and...armagnac?...maybe? I can't locate my files...maybe later...
taqueria guadalupe-
Who knew how closely Sonoma resembles the Texas Hill Country? We had the county to ourselves. Scheduling difficulties led to a commes ci commes ca approach to the tastings. But, this blip concerns tacos:
good on-par-with-some-of-Chicago al pastor and carne asada, mexican Coke, filling and for much less than the trendy market across the street
...as we were leaving a sax player struck up something husky and mournful in the nearby park...perfection
mayo/rodney strong/pedroncelli-
Mayo: bang for your buck(compared to the Napa culture) great host, freewheeling, knowledgable, poured extras...esp. a mysterious port
Rodney Strong-the sun descends the apex of the Mayan temple blinding acolytes schlepping towards vinoculture, cool former Edgewater denizen and vivacious blond pour, lead us through some complimentary reserves, more port, talk about the Bears(dear god)
Pedroncelli: what a train wreck
I was looking forward to this one...about the only thing credible about House of Glunz is that they introduced the s/o and I to Pedroncelli mother clone zin a few years back. Otherwise The Glunz family is pretty damn assy and their store is a crypt.
Anyway, Pedroncelli. We drive up and spy a taco truck...well, we were looking for one, actually, but this was mere transportation for the dipshits awaiting inside...not tacos. Pedroncelli was hosting a "tasting" party for a band of exceedingly-sloshed early-twenty somethings. The one elderly woman hired-on to pour was in-her-cups herself. There were two other patrons behind the bar(which I imagine is illegal) helping out by damn near filling the revelers' glasses to the top. Meanwhile drunken granny could barely be bothered with us and her pours...damn!...she might as well have used an eyedropper. And the children across the bar apparantly stole a bottle of port...poor granny just couldn't find it and gave up after awhile. I didn't see the theft. Sucky.
Lark Creek Inn-
Charbay blood orange vodka and soda
accolades impasto the wall near the men's
Charlie Trotter letterhead with love to his mentor
the menu looked fucking tasty, but we were only there for drinks
stroke the redwood grove while waiting for the valet
pizzeria pico again-
this time order in
still tasty
add on a different pizza(can't remember what at the moment...I was benadryl-d out of my mind anyway)
serve our own arugula
Spanish wine from Spanish wineshop that was out of original choice
(they also offered for sale the largest paella pan I have ever seen)
tip: no one wants leftout shrimp pizza the morningafter
prop room(long beach airport)-layover, no car, obviously, nothing nearby, crappy food, the chicken fingers were moist, beer
Last edited by
Christopher Gordon on January 30th, 2007, 9:37 pm, edited 10 times in total.
Being gauche rocks, stun the bourgeoisie