Category Archives: Food Adventures

The Diner at the Corner of ‘Hip and Hick’

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On Saturday afternoon, on the heels of a day-long set of activities in Sonoma, we followed the recommendation of my city- turned country-mouse sister Niki and showed up at the Fremont Diner. Located at the corner of ‘hip’ and ‘hick’, this restaurant serves up an unpretentious farm-to-table menu, which varies depending on the time and day you arrive.

With both indoor and outdoor seating, we chose on this warm evening at dusk to sit outside at a picnic table, surrounded by others in what was an old fenced off farm field. Adorned with canning jars, several bottles of hot sauce, silverware wrapped in dish towels, and other funky accouterments, I slid right into the retro-country atmosphere at our shabby chic outdoor dining table.

After settling in, we started to feel that ‘you’re in the country now, so relax already’ vibe. Mateo and I examined the menu and after being told that we were limited to the BBQ offerings, the decision making was made easy. We ordered a platter of dry-rubbed ribs, two sides of Vella mac n’ cheese, a kale salad with slivered almonds, dried cherries, and sharp cheddar chunks, and fresh hulled English peas bathed in butter. Soon after ordering, our canning jars of pinot arrived.

My eyes took inventory of the old kitsch signs scattered around the outside of the restaurant. Beyond the fence, we were surrounded by barns and farm animals. Caleb and Sadie lit up when their mac n’ cheese arrived, then fell silent as they busily gobbled it up. I tried it. It was flipping delicious!

Our platter of ribs arrived, laid out on two slices of white bread, and topped with slices of home-cured pickles. Although the ribs were a little dry, they were infused with layers of flavor: mustard seed, coffee grounds, cayenne, and other rib loving spices. There is nothing better than eating something in its perfect environment. I expected a little pig to go trotting by with a cute squeal as we devoured its sister Lulu [insert sick sense of humor here].

The sun was fast disappearing and the goose bumps were coming out. Our perfect ending to a memorable day, had come to an end. I hope you get a chance to visit the Fremont Diner, where city hipsters and country locals sit shoulder to shoulder enjoying home grown food that epitomizes ‘taste of place’.

Fremont Diner – 2698 Fremont Drive in Sonoma 

To San Francisco with Pop

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Today is my dad’s 83rd birthday. To celebrate, I am re-posting one of my favorites about one special day spent together in San Francisco. I am so fortunate to have a close friend with a generous soul and a wonderful sense of humor, all wrapped up into one amazing father. I will always cherish walking hand-in-hand to Baskin-Robbins or to dim sum with my dad, playing with words along the way (Pious Lee), and the heart connection we have always had. Happy Birthday, MannyB! The world is a better place with you in it! 

Caleb and Sadie’s grandpa or “Zadie” as we call him (Zadie is Yiddish for grandfather) was born and raised in New York. I was born and raised in San Francisco.

When I was six, my dad took me on a special father-daughter trip to New York City to visit family and retrace the footsteps of his childhood. This was also the first opportunity he had to introduce me to my paternal grandfather, who was very firmly rooted in New York and had never come out to California for a visit.

I know that this may come as no surprise, given that Anya is writing this, but we also went on an eating tour of the city. My fondest memories of this trip were spending extra time with my pop, who I have always been very close to, and of eating everything he introduced me to. We still have a photo of me at six on this trip. In one hand I am holding a slice of pizza, in the other a Nathan’s hotdog, and I am simultaneously sipping on a soft drink (there was likely a knish hiding behind my back). My dad and I recall this photo often, as it truly captured my excitement early on for all things ‘food’. Little has changed.

Perhaps, today was my chance to return the favor to my dad. I set aside this day to have a daughter-father excursion into San Francisco. I picked him up in the morning and we drove to Jack London Square where we parked and hopped on the ferry to The City. The ferry ride was beautiful and I truly enjoyed sitting next to my pop outside on the top deck. We talked about past and present as the fog breezed past us. Our boat passed the Oakland docks, then under the Bay Bridge on its way into our fair city.

From the boat, we walked over to the San Francisco Ferry Building just before lunch time. I was excited to share some of my favorite food things with my dad. I grabbed his arm and pulled him over to a salumi stall called Boccalone and ordered my favorite; a Muffuletta sandwich made hot to order, which we shared. I was pleased to see just how much my pop was enjoying it. Good taste runs in the family!

We brought more food outside to a bench in the sun. We heckled seagulls and laughed, while we watched the ferry boats coming and going.

Before long, we were on the ferry heading back to Oakland (much sunnier on this leg of our journey). I drove my dad home and we gave each other a hug and a kiss goodbye. Our sweet day had come to an end.

I will keep this memory close forever. Some time carved out of my busy full-time working, mother-of-two life, just to be with my dad. This was a rare opportunity to share my city and my food with him, as he had with me so many years ago.

Face Slapping Natural and Other Adventures

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Caleb & MateoChrissy FieldMy dumplingsNow that the title grabbed your attention, you’ll have to read the entire post to understand its meaning (unless you’re impatient and must scroll down, which technically is cheating)!

On Sunday morning, Mateo and I knew that we needed to get our collective butts out of Dodge and find a worthy destination. We headed over the Bay Bridge to San Francisco and decided on a whim to spend the day, which was uncharacteristically sunny in early March, at Crissy Field in the Presidio.

On the way to the Presidio, we passed my favorite cheese store in the city, Cheese Plus. Screech, I pulled the car over and found parking in front of the store. After sampling several transcendent cheeses, we ordered delicious warm sandwiches filled with the highest quality meats and artisan cheese, and ate them outside at one of the cafe tables in the sun. A little cookie treat for dessert, then we headed off to Crissy Field.

Why we haven’t brought the kids to Crissy Field sooner, is beyond me. There are paths to walk, run, skate, bike, and scooter down, and plenty of beach access. It’s the breathtaking back drop that makes it especially worthwhile. The Golden Gate Bridge looms over the bay and was visible in almost every photo we captured.

It was getting late in the afternoon and rather than just head back to the East Bay, Mateo and I decided to keep the fun going and head out to the Pacific Café in the outer Richmond for dinner. I worked there almost 20 years ago and several of my old co-workers are still there. We were ushered in with the first seating and ate a satisfying seafood meal. The food there is so consistent – no fancy mumbo-jumbo…just fresh fish cooked to perfection. I love how unchanged the restaurant is, with its wood paneling, warm lighting, and most important – the free wine you get standing outside in line, befriending perfect strangers.

Pacific CafeAnya & SadieFollowing dinner, we drove down Clement St. and to our great surprise, found parking right in front of Toy Boat Dessert Café. Thank you oh benevolent parking gods and goddesses. Technically, there was no room left in our stomachs, but that didn’t stop us from sharing an ice cream sundae.

With bellies painfully full, we returned to the car and started to head back to the East Bay. While driving down Geary Boulevard, a storefront caught my eye and I pulled a sudden and startling U-turn, to see if my eyes had deceived me. Indeed they had not. There was actually a business titled Face Slapping Natural at Geary and Park Presidio. In the window (click on the photo below) was a difficult to decipher manifesto and photos of the owner. We passed on getting our faces slapped and headed back to our home.

This beautiful spring day ended on a most amusing note, and was filled with delicious family time, good parking karma, excellent food, and breathtaking San Francisco scenery. It was a day well spent.

Toy BoatSadie @ Toy BoatFace Slapping Natural StoreFace Slapping Natural 2

An In-N-Outing

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In & Outing

Frankly, I can’t think of a better way to kick off the New Year than with a family hike on a crisp winter’s day to Tennessee Valley in the Marin Headlands, followed by a well-earned round of double doubles at In-N-Out!

It has literally been seven years since Mateo and I entered an In-N-Out and after all of the smack-talk we give fast-food to our kiddos, we thought it was about time we chill out and introduce them to our happy medium. To feel like we could justify a 1,000,000 calorie meal, we first set out on a long hike on the Tennessee Valley trail.

I loved how Caleb and Sadie ran up ahead finding walking sticks to drag through the puddles and potential poison oak disasters to stumble into. The fog very soon burned off and the warm sun cut through the biting air. The lunch bell finally rang in the form of grumbling bellies and we headed back to the car and on to our final destination, In-N-Out in Mill Valley.

We ordered, sat down, and waited in great anticipation for our warm cheesy burgers of double double goodness, a chocolate milk shake, and fries (my order, of course, was topped with melted American cheese). When our lunch arrived, we each pounced and gobbled our food down in record time.

Now, I won’t say I did not feel lethargic afterward, but Mateo and I had fun sharing the In-N-Out experience with Caleb and Sadie. A good time was had.

Truth to tell, I needed some fun this weekend. Just this past week, I found out that a childhood friend had passed away. I’m attending his memorial tomorrow and perhaps the hike and the heavy meal was exactly what I needed to ground and brace myself for the emotional ride to come (or rather, to continue). If nothing else, my friend’s passing is crucial reminder of the need for a seize-the-day approach to life. A wake up call to be deeply grateful for the beauty and love in our lives.

Tennessee Valley Outing

A Black Friday Hijacking

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It began with one of my Irish Breakfast Tea-induced manic states, leading to a split second decision to bypass the Black Friday insanity and head to San Francisco for a family food adventure. On Friday morning, I lured my groggy family into our Camry with the bait of a delicious adventure ahead, and some bananas to keep them sated until we arrived at our secret destination.

The sun was shining, no fog was in sight, and the Camry breezed across the bridge traffic-free. While the masses were fighting over mittens in the malls, we reminisced about our Thanksgiving meal in Sonoma the night before and how special it was. The food was exceptional and everyone seemed to be in good cheer as we squeezed around my sister Niki’s farmhouse table.

We arrived at 23rd and Geary and I parked the car. I could tell that Mateo was beginning to register our destination as Ton Kiang Restaurant  — a Hakka style Chinese restaurant featuring some of the best dim sum to be had in San Francisco. We walked through the front doors and as I was eyeing a tray of golden-hued baked pork buns, I heard Caleb say, “Hey, Kevin’s here!” Kevin, my brother, who I had just seen the night before at Thanksgiving, was sitting at a large table with my sister-in-law Rebecca and their good friends. This was one of those cool psychic meet-ups that you can never plan for.

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Before long, we were feasting on baked and steamed pork buns, ginger glazed foil wrapped chicken, shrimp dumplings, jook (rice porridge), and an assortment of other delightful dumplings. Our stomachs were now bursting at the seams and we had sampled much of what the restaurant had to offer…it was time to move on to the next adventure. Ocean Beach!

On this beautiful summer day in mid-November, we practically had the beach to ourselves. Mateo and I showed the kiddos where we met for the first time, which was right at the wall overlooking the ocean. We then walked to the water and plopped down lazily on the sand, where we made lame attempts at sand castle construction.

I then led the family on a this is where Momma grew up tour of the Richmond District, as Mateo rolled his eyes internally in the passenger seat (having received this tour one too many times). As we passed the elementary school I attended, I asked Caleb what he thought and he remarked “This isn’t a childhood I would want to grown up in.” He sees a very different San Francisco than the one Mateo and I experienced – one filled with dirty streets, cigarette smoke, graffiti, and impatient drivers quick to lay on the horn.

Before heading back to Mayberry, I pulled up in front of Cinderella Bakery on Balboa. This was a Russian restaurant from my childhood that specialized in delicious borscht, pilmeni soups, and piroshiki fried and baked. Clearly time has gone by because it is now a hip looking café, which thankfully still serves some of my favorite treats. Caleb and I bought a beef and cheese piroshki, frozen pilmeni (Russian dumplings to be cooked in chicken broth at a later date), and hamentaschen. As we drove home, I turned to Mateo and said “Ya know, pirshoshkis are basically just deep-fried beef donuts!” and we both laughed hard at the thought.

This was a Black Friday diversion worth remembering and just the type of family hijacking I enjoy orchestrating!

…Stay tuned as we cook up our pilmeni soup!

A Poem for Fall

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A Poem for Fall 

by Mateo Soltero

breathing in

the damp scent of the season

we stand surrounded by

the high-piled displays

of colorful, textured produce

of Monterey Market

basil leaves and lemons

the delicate heirloom tomatoes

still on their vine

autumn produce – apples, pears, dark greens

outside is the annual mountain

of pumpkins – kids climbing all over

we sit back watching

watching Caleb and Sadie join

the patchless pumpkin patch

the October sun has cut through

the morning chill that floats

at the edge of the day

waiting to return at night fall

the public is out absorbing the season

and we are eating slices of Gioia pizza

earthy mushrooms and

sausage to make you speak Italian

the koi in the botanical garden beckon

and we lean over watching them swim

in captivating peace

the leaves are changing

Caleb is making music

gently on a set of small wind chimes

days like this

out with our kids, sampling life

they are magic

magic punctuated by

photo-worthy moments

we are as grateful to capture

as we are to experience

this life is our blank canvas

and we are leaving a trail

where we go

like paint strokes

like swaths of color across the day

Mission Possible

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Our family awoke on Saturday with no particular plans for the day. Long overdue for a food adventure, we hopped on BART and headed for San Francisco’s Mission District. Mateo and the kiddos had never been to Tartine Bakery on 18th and Guerrero, and none of us had been to Bi-Rite Creamery. We had our Mission.

We arrived at Tartine and joined the long line of loyal worshipers, making conversation as the line drew closer to the long counter of countless baked delights. It was a simple decision…one double pain au chocolat, a bowl of bread pudding topped with summer fruit, and an artful latte to ooh and ahhhh over. We wanted to sample everything, but needed to save room for our next food destination. We were on a crawl. Well-sated, it was time to work up round two of our appetites. Off to the playground at Dolores Park, just three blocks away.

We walked past the San Francisco Mime Troupe (a permanent fixture at Dolores Park), up the hill past the taco truck and crowds of sun worshipers, and arrived at our destination. Perched on the top of the hill, the newly updated playground has a million dollar view of the San Francisco skyline. This is truly one of the best playgrounds we have ever discovered. Mateo and I were challenged to pull the kiddos away from the countless play structures when it was time to leave.

We headed back down the street, first to the famous La Cumbre Taqueria for an authentic Mission District burrito, larger than a newborn baby. Unfortunately, the food was a letdown. It would seem that they are riding on a reputation that was earned long ago, as our food was “meh” at best. However, it was hard to feel too disappointed with all of the wonderful food offerings surrounding us. It was time to crawl on to Bi-Rite Creamery for some soft-serve.

On such a beautifully warm San Francisco day, there was nothing more right than a swirl of chocolate and strawberry piled high on a soft-serve cone. Mateo placed Caleb on his shoulders, I pushed Sadie in her stroller, and we headed back to the East Bay with happy bellies and wonderful memories of our food adventure in one of San Francisco’s oldest and most colorful neighborhoods.

Oh Mexico

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“Oh, Mexico
It sounds so simple I just got to go
The sun’s so hot I forgot to go home
Guess I’ll have to go now”

–James Taylor

Our family just returned from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. With the Pacific Ocean at our feet, the sun above our heads, and the lush mountains at our backs, we devoured our time together and all the delicious food we came in contact with.

We feasted on the freshest seafood (mariscos), cooled off with fruit filled paletas (popsicles), enjoyed mango on a stick, shrimp on a stick, juice from a coconut, flan, rice pudding, fajitas, guacamole, and the freshest salsa that tasted so right because we were eating it in Mexico…I could truly go on.

Caleb was particularly adventurous when it came to our food adventures. I’ve never seen him consume so many quesadillas and plates of coconut shrimp in his six years on this planet. Sadie was thrilled to have so many ripe avocados available to her. Mateo and I were clearly in food heaven too.

I can still hear Caleb and Sadie’s laughter as we all ran along the beach, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore below our condo, feel the sun on my face, and the bug bites on my legs. Our time together in Puerto Vallarta was muy delicioso!

Camping, Good Eats, and Ice Cream

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Image

This past weekend, we took Caleb and Sadie camping to Sugar Loaf Ridge State Park in Sonoma County. For me, a huge fan of comfortable hotels or “glamping” at the very least, the highlight of our trip was stopping in at Michoacana Natural Ice Cream in Sonoma on our way home.

Now, I love s’mores, the smell of campfire, star gazing, and snuggling with my family in a tent (even though my fourty-something body vehemently resents the funky earth mattress we slept on all night), but nothing tops off a camping trip in hot weather like ice cream!

At lunch (we dined at my sister and brother-in-law’s restaurant, Creekside Café, which is fabulous), we asked our lovely waitress for a good ice cream tip and she pointed us to Michoacana, just down the road. What a discovery! This tiny, colorful, and brightly lit storefront, houses more ice cream flavors than I am accustomed to seeing under one roof (in both their ice cream options and paletas – Latin American fruit laden popsicles). It was clear that this was a local favorite, as evidenced by the crowd of happy ice cream consumers hanging around outside.

It was hot outside, but cool inside and we were eager to sit down with a refreshing frozen treat. Caleb ordered the lime ice cream, Sadie the strawberry, Mateo a combo of chocolate and Mexican vanilla, and I had the rum raisin paleta. Caleb isn’t much of a sharer when he’s really enjoying something and his fingers couldn’t be pried away from his ice cream cone. I did manage to get a lick in and his was lime-o-licious! Mateo, Sadie, and I; however, shared our delicious treats freely and emitted sounds of pure enjoyment in the process.

So, three recommendations I would make for your next family trip to Sonoma:

Camping at Sugar Loaf Ridge (a very family friendly campground, just 20 minutes from the town of Sonoma – our kiddos couldn’t get enough of wading around in the creek and catching tadpoles in their little hands): 2605 Adobe Canyon Rd, Kenwood, CA 95452

Breakfast or lunch at Creekside Café (their benedicts and pancakes are the tops or for lunch, try the Mayacamas burger or other savory treats named after my family members): 239 Boyes Blvd, Sonoma, CA 95476

And, ice cream bliss at Michoacana (you’ll be amazed by all of the flavors to choose from): 18495 Hwy 12, Sonoma, CA 95476

Eating Pascal Tomini

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In late April, I wrote a post titled Cheese Glorious Cheese about a fabulous cheese class that I participated in at the Cheese Board Collective in Berkeley. I came away from that class with my very own cheese to care for, which I have done lovingly and diligently over the past month. I named my pet cheese “Pascal Tomini” as the style of cheese was a pasteurized, cow’s milk Tomini.

Tomini (sometimes called Tomino) cheese can be enjoyed fresh or aged. In Pascal’s case, we let him ripen for one month until he was surrounded in white bloom and looked like a proper cheese. Caleb and I had each taken turns flipping him over on a daily basis. At last we were ready to see what our cheese tasted like.

We were expecting guests over for dinner tonight and I thought it would be perfect to offer the cheese and some baguette slices as an appetizer. I prepared my little pet cheese on a plate and left it out for an hour until it came close to room temperature.

Once our guests arrived and had wine in hand, I brought out the cheese plate. Eager to taste my first cheese experiment, I placed a wedge of the cheese on top of a baguette piece and excitedly bit into it expecting to be wowed by the soft, creamy, stinki-ness of it all. Not so much the case! My cheese was lacking flavor, texture, and luster. Frankly, Pascal Tomini was a bore!

Our guests politely ate the cheese and commended our efforts. Caleb gobbled his wedge up, but I think he was more excited about the slice of baguette it was riding on, than anything else. Still, I was proud of myself for taking on my first cheese and caring for it for over a month until it was ready to be eaten. Next go-around, I would salt it more and let it ripen longer, but that’s why we throw out the first pancake, no?

What came of this exercise is that I’m no longer intimidated by cheese-making and am eager to keep at it. I look forward to involving the kids more and to experimenting with mozzarella, ricotta, and cheeses that need to ripen over time. For such a huge lover of ‘all things cheese’, it was exciting to finally make my own and really get my hands into it. To a noble first effort!

Dear French Laundry

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It began with a good-natured letter to the French Laundry restaurant in Yountville.

Mateo and I had just celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary and we made every attempt to honor our special occasion by dining at the French Laundry. Despite following the reservation protocol of booking two months in advance (only to get on the waitlist for several days), calling almost daily, even showing up on the day of with my hand-written sign hoping that we would come off the wait-list, we were unsuccessful in getting in.

We still had a fabulous and memorable anniversary celebration in the wine country. Once home, I sent a letter to the restaurant with a clip from my last blog-posting. Some expected that I would receive a call back from the renowned ‘temple of all things delicious’, but I wasn’t sure. Several days after putting my letter in the mail, however, I received a call from the general manager at the French Laundry!

He acknowledged our plight and asked if he could assist us in securing a reservation and before I knew it, I was agreeing to dinner at the end of the week. Babysitting lined up seamlessly. The heavens were aligning and we found ourselves giddy with excitement over our fast-approaching reservations.

On Friday evening we drove up to Yountville. Exhausted after a long week, we were running on the fuel of excitement and anticipation. Our reservation was for 9:15pm, so we did our best to conserve our energy and appetites.

We arrived early at the restaurant and sat in their lovely, enclosed garden until our table was ready. A host offered us complimentary glasses of French Laundry blend “Champagne” in honor of our anniversary and we sipped in the perfectly manicured garden, surrounded by flowers, candlelight, and others awaiting their special experience.

Once we sat down, much like our wedding day, time stood still and Mateo and I kept saying “We’re really here!” The service was first-rate, impeccable, and the food was, as I call it “chef-on-a-plate!” Artful, decadent, heavenly, and fit for a king and queen. We dined on lobster, caviar, oysters, foie gras (no issues here!) served with three types of exotic salts, a hen egg, pork belly, lamb, morels, handmade truffles produced by the restaurant’s own chocolatier, and “coffee and donuts”…all truly transcendent.

Toward the end of our four-hour dining experience, I explained to our host that we had made an attempt to dine there the weekend prior. I showed him the photo of me and the sign outside the restaurant and he was tickled, and gladly co-conspired to get a photo-op after our dinner.

At 1am, tired and well-sated, after feasting until the seams in our stomachs began to burst, we were led into the kitchen. Now, I was really in heaven! We met the executive chef (not Thomas Keller that evening), a visiting chef from Per Se in New York, and the supporting cast. They were sitting around on stools discussing the menu for the next week, sipping from cold cans of Budweiser (I shit you not!), all graciously taking turns signing our personalized menu. We snapped our photos, expressed our gratitude, and said our farewells.

Now, I have my opinions about the cost of the occasion, the inaccessibility of the restaurant to the common-man, and all the hype surrounding the place. Still, we had the time of our lives! We felt special, treated, and a little royal. I can now check “Must eat at the French Laundry” off my life-list. I am simply filled with the satisfaction of having had an amazing dining experience with the love of my life, in celebration of fifteen magical years.

Cheese Glorious Cheese!

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We have a new family member, Pascal Tomini. He’s young, pasty, and a little high-maintenance. Pascal is the pet cheese I brought home from the fabulous cheese-making class I participated in at the Cheese Board in Berkeley.

As you can imagine, seconds lapsed between the time I heard about this class and when I registered for it. Any opportunity to stand in the back of the Cheese Board kitchen, with a collection of other cheese devotees, was a huge attraction. I own a book on home cheese making, but am intimidated by the step-by-step process. Having an experienced teacher walk me through each step would make it much more accessible.

On Wednesday evening after work, I met up with my friends Kerry and Jennifer at Cheese Board Pizza, just a few doors down from the Cheese Board (where the class was to be held). It was raining wildly outside as we sat inside, gobbling down delectable slices of pesto covered zucchini pizza, enjoyed with a glass of red wine. Live jazz music was playing at one end of the room, and the place was packed. I could have sat there all evening soaking up the cool Berkeley atmosphere.

It was time to head over to our cheese-making class. We grabbed our umbrellas and walked two doors down to the bakery. Once inside, we were offered white aprons and were ushered to the back of the kitchen where the class was getting underway. Our teacher simply donned a name tag that said “Cow”, so that’s how I’ll refer to her. Cow runs a cheese school called The Milk Maid in San Francisco and is an experienced cheese maker and instructor.

My friends and I stood around the large kitchen prep tables under soft lighting, surrounded by other participants who were as eager to learn the steps involved in cheese-making as we were. I was in heaven! The expansive cheese counter to my left, the large ovens that produce some of the best baked goods I’ve ever delighted in, to my right.

In front of us were cheese forms, a large cookie sheet, and a tiny tray with a sampling of various cheeses made from a variety of processes. Cow explained that we were going to learn how to make a crottin or tomini recipe (a lactic set cheese, best eaten fresh to moderately aged), and then she walked us through the basic steps for making ‘lactic set cheeses’. As I had hoped, the instructor demystified the process, making it accessible and exciting.

The experiential portion of the class involved ladling large curds of cow’s milk into my small plastic form and allowing it to drain over the cookie sheet. After listening to Cow’s clear instructions, we all went home with happy cheese-filled bellies, and our curd-filled cheese forms, soon to evolve into true aged cheese.

So, Pascal Tomini and I drove home together in the rain. I introduced him to the other family members, and then put him to bed on the kitchen counter. Excited to expose Caleb to the cheese-making process, I involved him the next day by having him gently remove the cheese from the form, then sprinkle both sides with salt. We carefully placed Pascal in a Tupperware container (lid not quite on) and then into the fridge.

Over the next few weeks, Caleb and I will follow his progress, turn him over daily, and take in deep inhalations of the promise of good cheese eating to be had.

Stay tuned…

Sam Wo Is Me

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A moment of silence for the death of the infamous Sam Wo Restaurant in San Francisco’s Chinatown. On Friday evening, I read the obituary in the San Francisco Chronicle and am still grappling with the news.

My childhood memories are filled with visits to Sam Wo’s on Washington Street near Grant Avenue. I would usually go with my dad on one of his lunch breaks from work in the Financial District. We would come off the street, walk through the bustling and unsavory kitchen, then up the stairs to the second or third floor to be greeted by Edsel Ford Fong, an equal opportunity bastard, known as the ‘rudest waiter’.

Truth to tell, I was fond of Edsel. Who wouldn’t get a kick out of a waiter who yelled at patrons to hurry up and order, even though they had not yet received their menus? He would hand you a dish and bark at you to hand it to the table behind you because he could not make it through the crowds. On occasion, he would give us an untallied bill, commanding us to total it ourselves. The walls were covered with Polaroid’s of Edsel being kissed by some unsuspecting female patron, as well as sayings like “Be Specific like the Pacific Ocean!” Edsel riddled every sentence with “Check it out!” What’s not to love!?

Occasionally, we would see a cat run through the kitchen or a surly looking chef sneeze into a pot of boiling noodles as the cigarette in his mouth barely flinched. The food was appealing, but the kitchen was disgusting. For this reason, I got into the habit of asking the cooks to wash their hands before handling the noodle rolls. There was likely a sign in the back with my picture on it, with a command to spit in my food if I ask for hands to be washed!

As unsanitary as the 100-year-old restaurant was (and the main reason for its closure), it had huge appeal and was known for two dishes in particular, the barbecue pork rice noodle rolls and the fish salad. I was, and still am, particularly crazy about the rice noodle rolls – thick sheets of rice noodle filled with char siu (bbq pork), baked egg, and cilantro, then rolled into a log and cut sushi style into thick pieces – and always enjoyed mine with a combination of oyster sauce and hot Chinese mustard. This would definitely be on the top of the menu for my ‘last meal’.

My parents loved rice noodle rolls so much (dad still does), that shortly before my mom died, I ran out to Ranch 99 Market for the ingredients. Back in their kitchen, I lovingly prepared the dish from memory, and was so pleased to watch my mom savor every bite of my rice noodle roll re-creation.

Even though I’ve since moved out of the City, I have always known in the back of my mind that I could return for an order of rice noodle rolls, whenever my heart desired. After receiving the earth-shattering news on Friday, I had to do something to come to grips with my loss. On Saturday morning, I ran out to our local Ranch 99 for the ingredients once again.

Unfortunately, the rice noodles I purchased were stale and after steaming them, I was only able to rescue one sheet of noodle to make a single roll. With the remaining ingredients, I made a ‘deconstructed’ rice noodle roll salad, which I later brought to a potluck. The dish consisted of bbq pork slices, baked egg, cilantro, sliced rice noodles, and I tossed it with oyster sauce and a little hot mustard. It had all of the components and flavors of rice noodle rolls – Caleb loved it, and I would make it again!

It now sounds like the owners of Sam Wo’s are trying to work with the City to re-open the restaurant. They would have to spend much money to repair the ancient building and comply with health inspectors and the fire department. If they do re-open, I’ll be dancing in the streets, kissing strangers, and shoving copious amounts of delectable rice noodle rolls into my mouth. Just you wait and see!

My version: rice noodle rolls and noodle roll salad

Sprung!

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Extended weekend. Treasured time with family.

Day trip into San Francisco. Lunch at Yumma’s on Irving for outstanding shwarma.

A visit to the California Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. Rainforest, butterflies on our shoulders, dancing fountains, fish swimming overhead. Our children more interested in the mechanics of the elevator, than the wildlife surrounding them.

A stroll over to the Japanese Tea Garden. Cherry blossoms, evidence of spring, tea and treats, hopscotch over rushing streams, bridges, ponds, and koi fish.

Mateo and I shoot each other a knowing glance…It couldn’t get any better than this!

A meltdown or two. A visit to the playground, then off to the Pacific Café for dinner. Free wine in line. Sidewalk friendships made. Sourdough bread, clam chowder, and the best damn grilled salmon.

Another meltdown. This one, catastrophic. Time to head back to the East Bay.

I was so over winter. Grateful for the arrival of spring. Welcomed in just the right way.

Something to Chaat About

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We may be house- and childcare-poor, but Mateo and I consider ourselves to be quite family-rich. World travel just isn’t in the cards for the time being. To seek out the exotic, we head out for good things to eat in our little corner of the San Francisco Bay Area. Today, we went on a lunchtime food adventure to Vik’s Chaat Corner in Berkeley.

Already apprehensive about bringing our kiddos to a “spicy food” restaurant, it didn’t help matters when as we were walking toward Vik’s, we witnessed a young boy retching violently into a potted plant outside the front door; his mother hovering over him (turns out this was not a bad omen, as his family was just entering the restaurant, not leaving). Mateo and I very quickly ushered Caleb and Sadie inside with reassurances that they would not meet the same fate.

Beyond the front doors and through the narrow Indian market leading into the restaurant, my senses were flooded with intoxicating Indian fragrances and the promise of exotic and delightful things to eat. We watched crowds of hungry people of all walks of life, flood the line toward the front counter. Mateo and an already weary looking Sadie quickly grabbed a table, while Caleb and I stood in line with great excitement. I was overwhelmed by all of the Chaat choices on the chalkboards above our heads. Chaat is a term describing savory snacks, typically served from road-side stalls or carts in India. We are fortunate to have in our midst, an abundance of restaurants featuring these delectable and most affordable treats.

Wanting to appeal to everyone’s food tastes, I ordered the vegetable samosa (fried puffed-pastry appetizer filled with potatoes, peas, onions, and spices), lamb biryani (seasoned rice entree with fall-off-the-bone lamb), a large cholle bhature for Caleb (huge puff of hollow, fried dough, larger than your head), pani puri (bite-sized crispy puffs, filled with curried chickpeas, yogurt, spices, and tamarind chutney), mango lassi (amazing tart yogurt and mango drink), and a handful of desserts of primary colors. Not knowing which desserts to choose from the expansive case filled with an overwhelming assortment of handmade treats, I asked the Indian man behind the cash register if he’d pick out some of his favorites. I’m not usually a huge fan of Indian desserts, but he did not let us down. After lunch, our desserts were gone in a flash.

I wanted to make my friend Simran proud by telling her that Caleb was venturing toward the spicier, more exotic food choices. Instead, he took comfort in the ‘tame’, as he hoarded the cholle bhature (fried dough), his mango lassi, and most of the dessert. Sadie only took bird-sized nibbles of the biryani as her eyelids got heavier with sleep. We’ll get there, I have no doubt. For now, my kids aren’t huge fans of the spicier foods. Give them stinky French cheese though and they’re the happiest little budding foodies.

We left Vik’s with enchanted taste-buds, full bellies, and a very tired Sadie-bug. We headed out to the parking lot feeling very satisfied and world-traveled. It was time to head home to put Sadie down for a nap.

Vik’s Chaat Corner is located at 2390, Fourth Street in Berkeley, CA.