chez pim

Taste of Asia at the Asian Art Museum, San Francisco

If you're around San Francisco on the weekend of April 25, you might want to check out this fabulous event at The Asian Art Museum: Taste of Asia.  The event is a benefit for the Asian Art Museum.  Friday the 25th is a dinner with food from famous Asian restaurants in the city such as Yang Sing, Betelnut, Po Leng Lounge, Yoshi's, Dosa, and many more.  Tickets to this dinner are $125 per person. 

Chez Pim readers can claim $10 off, just mention Chez Pim when you make your reservation.

On Saturday, April 26th, there will be culinary seminars at the museum.  At 11am, I'll be moderating the panel "Culinary Adventures through Asia" with James Oseland, Naomi Duguid and Jeffrey Alford.  Then at 1pm, I'll be participating in the discussion "Talking Food - 2008" with Kevin Blum from The City Dish, Marcia Gagliardi from tablehopper.com, Bee Yinn Low from Rasa Malaysia, and Nish Nadaraja from Yelp.

Hope to see you there.

Michelin Guide San Francisco, Bay Area & Wine Country 2008

The new Michelin Guide for San Francisco is out. Let the critic's critics get to work.

THREE STARS
The French Laundry

TWO STARS
Aqua
Chez TJ (new)
Cyrus
Manresa
Meadowood (new)
Michael Mina

ONE STAR
Acquerello
Ame (new)
Auberge du Soleil
Bistro Jeanty
Boulevard
Chez Panisse
Coi (new)
Cortez (new)
Dining Room at the Ritz-Carlton,
Farmhouse Inn
Fifth Floor
Fleur de Lys
Gary Danko
K & L Bistro
La Folie
La Toque
Madrona Manor (new)
Martini House (new)
Masa's San Francisco
One Market (new)
Quince
Range
Redd (new)
Rubicon
Sushi-Ran
Terra

How I went to dinner and came home with a cow

I'm not exactly sure how it happened. I got all dressed up to go to dinner, an al fresco barbeque at Rebecca's, and before the day is over I milked a sheep, witnessed a magical - if ever so mildly yucky - moment of piglets being born – the piglets were cute and pink and spotted and got big floppy ears, but before all that they were wet and mucous-y and bloody and stuff. Eh.

And to top it all off properly, we came home with a cow. Ok, not a whole cow. Honestly. We just became a part owner of one. And now we get two gallons of her milk weekly - unpasteurized, non-homogenized, raw milk, just the way the gods intended.

What to do with raw milk? The possibilities are endless. I'm thinking homemade butter, crème fraiche, clotted cream, et cetera et cetera. I'll try it all, I think, and will tell you all about it. Meanwhile, I'll just introduce you to Nutmeg, our gorgeous Normande cow in the picture above. And you can read about Bob and Jean of Deep Roots Ranch who graciously allowed us to co-own Nutmeg. You can also check out our friend Rebecca's blog, whose sheep farm and budding Basque-style sheep-cheese making operation is the genesis of all this. When her cheese making is fully underway I'll tell you more about it, I promise.

Right, and you can also read all about cow sharing and how to get your own supply of real milk. And now that you're done with the Harry Potter book you might even have time to re-read that Michael Pollan's Op-Ed piece in the NYT about the very important Farm Food Bill that will affect us all. (Thanks to Diane who reminded me of this important issue recently.)

Now back to my usual frivolity. With my city girl cred receding rapidly, I came home and decided to order some shoes. And what did I buy? A pair of cute rainboots from Tar-jay so next time I go visit Nutmeg and the piggies and the sheeps I would have something to wear. Oy.

I. Need. Help.

P.S. If you're going to Blogher, be sure to say hi and help me in person.
P.P.S. If you've got a great clotted cream recipe, that'll be a great help too. My first clotted cream attempted failed rather miserably. Recipe, anyone?

P.P.P.S. More pictures of Nutmeg and the farm where she lives....

How to cook bugs

Here's what's been cooking up at Manresa lately. Not something pretty – and pretty tasty – on a plate as usual. This one is just a tad more macabre. Chef's been personally cooking bugs that our lovely gardener Cynthia had collected just for this purpose.

This was just another day in the life of a biodynamic garden. You've heard of that garden, yes? The procedure is called the ashing of pests - such a poetic name. It calls for collecting the pests that infest a farm, dry roasting them in a cast iron pan until they are burnt to a crisp. The cooked bugs are then crushed in a mortar until they are turned into ash, and mixed with ash from a wood burning stove. The resulting dust is sprinkled around the garden, particularly in the areas most affected by the bug infestation.

The ash is supposed to prevent the bugs returning. Let this be a lesson to you bugs: don't f*** with my garden. I think that's the message – a slightly less gruesome procedure than mounting dead bugs like butterfly specimen and sticking them in the ground as a warning, huh? And it certainly beats spraying pesticides in my book.

I wonder if the ashing of the pests work in life outside the garden as well? What do you think? Don't you have one or two pests in your life you wouldn't mind grinding into ash? Well, ok, before someone calls the cops on me, I certainly didn't mean grinding them into ash, but, you know, perhaps a bit of hair, or a half eaten sandwich from their plate. Wouldn't it be great? A sprinkle here, a sprinkle there, and p-o-o-f!

Olallieberries U-pick, or Me-pick, rather

(If you are reading this post on a RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.

This is the tail end of Olallieberry season in Northern California, so when my friends Beccy and Sean asked me to join them to pick olaillieberries at a farm just north of us on the coast highway, I jumped at the chance.

Have you had olallieberries? If not, you really should try. I love them. I mean, how could you not love a berry whose name is pronounced oh-la-la berries. Ok, some people say oh-la-lee berries, but I much prefer saying oh-la-la. Makes me happy just saying the name. It's a cross between something called Loganberry and youngberry. Don't look at me, I am just clueless at this as you are. Go check out Wikipedia yourself.

Opening Day (Part II)

Part II of guest blogger Daniel Patterson's Opening Day. Daniel is the chef and owner of the restaurant Coi in San Francisco. Part one of the series can be found here.

12PM
Ginger Rogers famously said of Fred Astaire, “I did everything he did, but backwards and in high heels,” which pretty much sums up the difference between chef and chef/owner. I pondered this as I stood on the top step of a ten foot ladder, reaching forward three feet while twisting to the left to apply another layer of matte medium to a corner pane. Around this time my phone rang, and I half-turned to pull it from my back pocket. I felt like a contortionist. My back would be unhappy with me later.

(Chefs, more than any profession except perhaps athletes, tend to ignore the effects of the passage of time on their bodies’ capabilities, until the evidence, a carefully collected assortment of nagging injuries and aching joints, becomes too overwhelming. Because they start so young, they become accustomed to their bodies being loyal, obedient and indefatigable employees, which is largely how they’re treated. Somewhere around the mid-thirties there evolves a lengthy and bitter fight between spirit and corporal body, which sooner or later the body inevitably wins. After that the interaction between mind and flesh becomes a series of terse exchanges between two distrustful and occasionally vengeful equals.)

“Daniel. It’s Dick. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Opening Day, by Daniel Patterson

Chez Pim has another special guest blogger today, my friend Daniel Patterson, the talented chef and owner of the restaurant Coi in San Francisco. Daniel is among the rare breed of chefs who can write. (He also contributes to the NYT and Food&Wine magazine.)

A few weeks ago, Coi celebrated its first anniversary, a milestone far too many restaurants sadly never reach. Here is Daniel's look back at Coi's opening day. His words afford us a rare glimpse behind the scenes at a real-world fine dining restaurant.

And, no, this is no 'Rocco', nor is it 'Kitchen Confidential', it's just a simple story well told. Enjoy. --Pim

Opening Day
by Daniel Patterson

When I first started working in restaurants, chefs ran with their own kind. For one thing, the pool of civilians looking for a misanthropic conversation in some dive bar between the hours of midnight and two am was small. For another, the profession was not exactly held in high esteem. Parents didn’t hope for their kids to grow up to be chefs, and the only “dinner parties” we were invited to involved pizzas and kegs of beer.

But times have changed. Now we not only find ourselves occasionally included in polite social events, but when conversations turn to the subject of vocation, few phrases elicit more energetic responses than, “I’m a chef.” This usually leads to a brief but vigorous interrogation, with a fairly predictable series of questions, like, “Have you read Kitchen Confidential?” (yes), and “How did you become a chef?” (by accident). This is generally followed by a lengthy recounting of the time they ate at the French Laundry/Masa/Other Name Brand restaurant, and how great/terrible/worth it/disappointing it was. At these moments I have learned to listen patiently. I smile. I answer their questions. I explain that cooking is an exercise in tedium interrupted by the occasional disaster. They look at me funny. I wonder how quickly I can find another drink.

Make the mistake of mentioning that you’re opening a restaurant, however, and the floodgates open in earnest. After a bit of prodding, you attempt to describe the décor and food in detail (and if you’re really lucky, the concept). You notice a dreamy look creeping across their face. Their eyes widen as they imagine the proverbial red carpet rolling out and the fabulous people crowding in, the glitz and glamour of Opening Night. You realize that the Food Network has some serious explaining to do.

Weighing in

A headline on the front page of the SF Chronicle last weekend read:

Food bloggers dish up plates of spicy criticism:
Formerly formal discipline of reviewing becomes a free-for-all for online amateurs

It argued, essentially, that paid writers –aka real journalists- have editors and are therefore more ethical and objective than rampant barbaric bloggers with only fifteen bucks a months to Typepad for a soapbox on which to stand and shout into the void.

Wow. What a revelation! Can we possibly print a more tiresome argument than this? I read it and, frankly, couldn't even be arsed to respond. Then my friend Sam's post this morning got me going for a minute. She was threatening to quit food blogging altogether as a result of that silly article. Now, it took me a few minutes to realize that today is April Fool, and her post was but a smart April Fool's joke. The post made me go read all the bruhaha and snark that came from that article anyway. Besides that yawn-inducing argument, there were also snide comments –in Mr.Bauer's subsequent blog post and the comment section- about bloggers misusing their 'fame' and demanding better treatment and freebies from restaurants.

That argument is just so silly I can hardly muster up the energy to respond, yet I am but an idle blogger with no better things to do so I will anyway. First of all, not all journalists are created equal, and not all bloggers are cut from the same cloth. Speaking of them as though every journalist has the same respectable ethics and all bloggers behave with the same objectionable behaviors is just plain ignorant.

The article pointed out a frequent critique on the issue of bloggers vs. journalists -that bloggers are ill-qualified when compared to journalists in the field. I'm not sure if I buy this one. Is it always true? Frank Bruni got his lofty job with merely an ability to write engagingly while having no apparent qualification in the field of gastronomy. Notice I said 'apparent'? Having not made acquaintance of Mr.Bruni himself nor his qualifications, I am in fact ill-qualified to judge either of them. For all I know he is the best home cook in the world or has the superhuman taste memory of the Emperor of Wine Robert Parker –said about- himself. When Marlena Spieler wrote a piece on the restaurant L'Arpège for the Chronicle Food Section, the meal she reported was her very first wide-eye experience at the restaurant. I've been to L'Arpège more times than I care to remember in the last few years. Doesn't that make me essentially more qualified than Ms.Spieler to write about the restaurant, even if I had to pay for the meals myself and I had no editor to speak of but my Spell Checker?

More kitchen action

(If you are reading this post on a RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

A bunch more shots from inside the kitchen at Manresa with Alain Passard.

Cooking for Alain Passard

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Note: If you fancy trying this Kanom Jeen Nam-prik, I will be cooking it at the Asia Society's Off the Menu event, Curry across Asia, next Friday March 30th.

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"I remember the perfume that filled the house when my grand-mère made her white peach jam every summer", said Alain Passard as he chewed on a piece of impossibly fragrant dried white peach a farmer we visited earlier that day had gifted him. "How extraordinary", he murmured. I wasn't sure if he was referring to the delicious mouthful of dried peach or his grandmother's jam he was savoring in his mind. Whichever it was –or perhaps it was both- he was so blissfully lost in his thoughts that I restrained myself from intruding with a question.

It was a glorious afternoon. We sat basking in the warm California sun at the garden after a light lunch. On the menu was a taste from my own lost childhood: Kanom Jeen Nam-prik, an old Thai dish with fermented rice noodle and a mild 'curry' sauce made with shrimp and coconut milk.

I'd spent the preceding few days planning the menu, or perhaps it was the preceding few weeks. David and I knew -before his arrival as the guest chef at Manresa that weekend- that we would host a lunch at the garden for him. Since the lunch was planned for the day after the grueling series of dinners, I volunteered to cook up a little something myself so they could have their deserving rest.

The Alain Passard dinners at Manresa, just the food ma'am

(If you are reading this post on a RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

Some more shots from the Manresa/Arpège dinners last weekend. This set is just the food, ma'am. Just the food. More pictures of the fun inside the kitchen to follow.

I won't tell you how the food tasted. I'm far too biased to be a good reporter on this one, so you'll just have to see what others have said about the dinners instead.

Cooking 'off the menu'

Have you heard of the Off the Menu series? It's a series of dinners hosted by the Asia Society in the Bay Area to explore the transformation of Asian cuisines. The first dinner in the series (in November 2005) was hosted by Charles Phan, of the famed Slanted Door, featuring unusual and intricate Vietnamese dishes normally not feasible (or sellable) on his usual menu –hence the title 'Off the Menu'. Subsequent dinners kept to that theme, and have included everything from 'snapping turtle stew' to the relatively normal stuffed pig's trotter, all cooked up by local Bay Area chefs. 7x7 Magazine last year called this event 'the hottest ticket in town'.

There's another Off the Menu dinner on the horizon that I want to tell you about. The theme is 'Curry across Asia'. The menu will feature curries from Indonesia, China, India, and, of course, Thailand, and there will also be a panel discussion exploring the complex flavors, local foodways, and the many faces of what we call 'curry'.

And joining the pros –Alex Ong of Betelnut, Daniel Sudaryanto of the upcoming Red Lantern, Ruta Kahate of Ruta's Kitchen- is yours truly! Crazy, huh? I guess so. I'm not quite sure what possessed me to agree to this. But what's done is done, and come Friday March 30th, I will be doing my take on a Thai curry for the lucky 60 diners at the event. And, true to the off the menu theme, I promise you it will be something you won't find at your corner Thai restaurant.

The tickets are on sale now at the Asia Society in San Francisco. You can also call them at 415-421-8707. See you there!

Two chefs at the pass

(If you are reading this post on a RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)
Alain Passard was at Manresa this past weekend to cook with David -three dinners for very lucky people who managed to call within 45 minutes of the announcement and got their tables. Three dinners, sixty covers at each one, sold out in less than an hour. The man is a rock star.

I got to hang out with said star this weekend. Yeah, now you can hate me even more. Heh. Or perhaps not, because I took lots of photos so I could share the experience with you. So, hate me a little less perhaps?

Here's the first set in a series. I call at 'At the pass'. The shots were taken around the area called the pass in the kitchen. Hence the name. Yep, quite creative, me.

Breaking news: Alain Passard to cook at Manresa

This is not a very good picture, but the subject is interesting so I hope you'll forgive me. Yes, it is Alain Passard, cooking at the Rarities Dinner at the Masters of Food and Wine in Carmel last year.

He had a big rack of lamb to cook, and instead of using the stove or oven, he decided to set up the outdoor fireplace on the patio to do it. He spent most of the prep time outside, nursing his fire and his lamb in between a smoke or two of cigar, even after it began to drizzle. Daniel Boulud and I joked that Alain was cooking his lamb à la vapeur. Funny.

That was when an idea germinated in Alain's and David's minds, and that idea has finally come to fruition, and now they are ready to announce it.

Alain Passard is coming to Manresa! He's coming to cook three dinners, on March 9, 10, and 11! David and the team at Manresa have been planning this a long time, and Cynthia, the lovely gardener is planting special produce particularly for this dinner even. You should go to the Manresa blog to check out the details. If you want a table, call quickly. They are filling up fast. They are only doing one turn, that's 60 seats, per night. Grab the phone. Quick!

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Update: Sorry to say the dinners are now fully booked.

inside 'Inside the Kitchen'

This is Roland Passot admiring -or pitying- Hubert Keller's balls.

Carrot balls!
Get your mind off the gutter, readers!

Yeah, I do admit that joke is perhaps a bit racier than usual around here, but let it be known that it wasn't mine. It's Roland himself making that comment about the size of his and Hubert's, um, carrot balls. I hate to take a side here, but I must admit Roland was right, Hubert's balls were conspicuously small. Ha ha.

The scene for this rather French joshing was the Grand Cru dinner last Saturday night at the Ritz in Half Moon Bay. The premise of the dinner was a meal cooked by four chefs who have each been awarded four stars by the Chronicle. The dinner tab was $300 per head, and that included 'Grand Cru' wines, with a part of the proceeds going to support Meals on Wheels.

No, I don't have any picture from the dinner itself. What you think me so gauche I would pack a camera to a fancy dinner? Feh.

I was in the kitchen for a little bit during the afternoon prep, and the chefs were there in force, each doing their own thing with some help from the Ritz cooking team. It was quite neat to see Hubert Keller cooking the lamb himself, especially since, at a similar even earlier this year, I saw a certain Iron Chef cooking duck breasts by brushing some sort of marinade over them as a finishing touch (or was it a blessing) –everything else had been done and prepped by the minions even before said Iron Chef waltz into the lowly kitchen mere minutes before service. Nice to be famous (jealously she said).

Spending time in the kitchen was fun, especially watching all the components of the dishes being prepped without knowing what the final dishes would be. I saw Roland Passot working with the cutest little roasted pumpkins I've ever seen, adding to them carrot sticks and asparagus spears. It looked to be quite a vegetable focus dish, a healthy respite from the protein heavy dishes everyone else was preparing. Well, until I saw the amount of butter and cream he whisked into the sauce. You just have to love the French, don't you?

That afternoon reminded me of another day I spent observing in the kitchen at the Rarities Dinner at the Masters last year. I guess I really should tell that story soon too!

Meanwhile, more on the Grand Cru dinner extravaganza: Nitin has the low down and Amy has the menu.

tag(s):food |Inside the Kitchen |David Kinch |Roland Passot |Hubert Keller |Ron Siegal |Ritz |culinary event

Lookie whose blog I found today: Carlo Middione, an Italian chef extraodinaire

While having my latte this morning, I suddenly had a craving for biscotti –you know, the proper, porous, Italian kind, with only almonds and not much else? The ones that are so hard they are damn near inedible until dunk into a cup of hot coffee? No, I wasn't thinking of the American Biscotti which -though not nearly as icky as American-style Scones (aka the Doorstop Variety)- are cakey, dense, and can be filled with any number of weirdo ingredients.

What's all this stuff about biscotti got to do with this new blog I found? Well, the best biscotti in San Francisco are from this little restaurant called Vivande on Fillmore St. The chef and owner of Vivande is Carlo Middione. I googled his name this morning, hoping to find the recipe for those delicious biscotti of his, but what I found instead was the man had a blog!

Michelin Guide San Francisco: the Red Guide is coming to town

What's all clad in red and is coming to town? No, Christmas isn't coming to the City early this year, though if you asked a few chefs in town they might say that's exactly what has just happened to them.

I'm talking about the Michelin Guide, that venerable and oh-so-French institution that's been anointing its stars to generations of illustrious chefs, and which has just arrived in our fair city.

The Press Release came out today, and here's the list

THREE STARS
The French Laundry

TWO STARS
Aqua
Cyrus
Manresa (Yay!)
Michael Mina

I don't have much to say about this today. We're heading off to the Michelin release party soon. Check back here tomorrow for my take on what's on and what's off the guide!

(The list of restaurants with one star after the jump.)

The Fabulous Girls' Guide to Eating Local

If you're a regular reader on the food blog circuit, I'm sure you've heard an earful about this month's Eating Local campaign. I know just what you think, who needs the crunchy granola types telling us how to be fabulous?

No worries, fabulous girls of the world, Chez Pim, the poster child of shallowfabulousness, is coming to the rescue. No, I'm not going to tell you to eat local to save the environment, support local farmers and artisans, or reduce our dependant on oil. None of that boring altruistic stuff I tell you.

Yes, yes, of course, eating locally grown or produced foods will do all of that good stuff, but it's hardly helping us, is it? No, girls, I'm telling you to do this out of our straight, unadulterated self-interest. Trust me on this. It's going to be so, well, fabulous.

.......

This post continues at the Eat Local Challenge blog.

tag(s):food|Eat Local

WBW 18: Fav Shop Edition (Soif Wine Bar and Merchant)

Would you believe me if I said the most sophisticated wine bar in the Bay Area is not in the city at all, but all the way down in Santa Cruz?

For the latest edition of Wine Blogging Wednesday -yes, yes, I know it's Sunday now but my cat ate my homework- our wonderful host Dr.Vino asked us to write not about wine, per se, but about a wine shop that is near and dear to our heart. And hey, in a couple of weeks I'm going to be living a few blocks from this one, so it is not only dear but certainly going to be quite near as well. (Oh yes, there's a bit of news for you nosy readers, but a little bit later for that ok? D'abord on parle de vin!)

I'm talking about a spectacular place called Soif Wine Bar and Merchant in downtown Santa Cruz. It's both a wine shop and a wine bar. The shop, also affectionately known as the Bonny Doon Alumni Association, is owned by Patrice Boyle and Hugh Weiler, both expats of the famous Bonny Doon Winery (hence the nickname.)

I was introduced to Soif by David, who had been waxing poetic about this hip little place ever since we met. Frankly, my-city-snob-self wasn't so convinced -hip and Santa Cruz not being particularly compatible in my vocabulary. Imagine my surprise when I was taken to a neat space that could have been at home in the Mission or SOMA, and found a menu that featured a flight of the obscure traditional Burgundian grape variety, Aligoté? Not just any old Aligoté, mind you, but those from famous producers like Ramonet, Arnaud Ente, Jayer-Gilles, and Aubert de Villaine! I could hardly believe my eyes, or my palate, for that matter.

A foodie's guide to missing a flight at SFO

As any self respecting foodie who missed her flight at SFO yesterday, I knew just what to do. Hong Kong Flower Lounge. That's what.

So that's what we ended up doing. After a midnight rush back to Santa Cruz from my place in the city to fecth my passport, we found ourselves yesterday morning at SFO two hours after we were supposed to because of a bit of confusion over the flight time change. No more flights to Mexico that day, we were to wait until the next day, this morning, to go there.

What to do, well, instead of going 101 North up to the city, we went South for about a mile, took the Milbrae exit and less than a mile away at 51 Milbrae Ave is one of the best dim sum houses in the SF Bay Area.

Then for dinner back in the city, we had a simple but wonderful pizza at Pizzetta 211. Three pizzas and a salad and an apple/ginger cake later, we got home, full and ready for another try at SFO. Keep your fingers crossed for us?

And while you are at it, perhaps you'll drop by the Accidental Hedonist and vote for Chez Pim's Truffle Don post, which has been nominated for the Best Post: Reader's Choice on this year's Food Blog Award. Thank you thank you thank you.

This is where I'd be Tuesday..

...if I were in San Francisco, that is.

Yes, if I were in town, I would certainly be at 1550 Hyde at their Fat Tuesday in the Bay Area party. They will be pouring free wine and passing around delicious appetizers, not to mention a live jazz band (featuring the Ruben Salcido Quartet) from 6-10pm. No, you don't need a reservation, and no there is no door charge, but they do suggest a donation of between $20-40, with all the proceeds going to the Red Cross and the Jazz Foundation of New Orleans.

Earlier this year, Kent and Peter of 1550 Hyde raised more than $4,500 for the victims of the Tsunami in Southeast Asia. Perhaps we could all help them raise even more for the folks in New Orleans?

As for me, I am at the airport, waiting to see if I would make it to London today as planned. This is a result of quite a comedy of errors that would have been hilarious had it not happened to me! I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say that I am cooling my behind on stand-by. Being super big cheese on their mileage plus program should give me some very good odds, but just in case, if you know someone who's heading to the airport right now for a flight to London, will you stop them so I could have the seat! Pretty please!

(photo from 1550 Hyde website)

Fantasy Sushi

Il était une foie.*

Yes, and so it began, once upon a time not too long ago, a prelude to the assault that was to come: a foot-long tube, two-inch in diameter, of pristine liver, Monkfish liver or Ankimo, cut into half an inch thick pieces, sprinkled with chopped spring onions and bathed in a pool of tart Ponzu sauce.

The scene was an unlikely storefront in a run-of-the-mill California strip mall, this particular one in the green Silicon Valley. I had been given a secret password to enter this special place, hidden in plain view, to partake in the sushi meal to end all sushi meals. Or so it was claimed. What ensued was not so much a meal but a fight to the death battle, ending with comatose diners staggering out the door in bewilderment, bloated in gut and ego, and with a void the size a month’s worth of London rent in the pocketbook.

Dirty Girl's dry farmed Early Girl tamatoes: or why you should shop at the ferry plaza tomorrow, part duh!

Our handsome Joe at Dirty Girl has got some beautiful dry farmed Early Girl tomatoes now. Lots of them. I've been getting them every week, either at the Ferry Plaza market or Santa Cruz market or sometimes borrowing directly from the farm when he's not looking.

Joe's dry-farmed tomato is the size of a plum, and just about the sweetest and yummiest tomatoes you could find, beating your fancy heirloom tomatoes by at least a mile. Not that there's anything wrong with heirlooms, per se, but just because some tomatoes are labeled heirlooms, and cost you five dollars a pound, doesn't mean they are any good to eat.

Seriously, you've never really had great tomatoes until you've had dry farmed tomatoes. They are generally smaller and pack full of concentrated tomato flavors that have not been diluted by too much water while growing. The skin of a dry farmed tomato is a little stronger than that of the regular tomato, which is an added bonus because that means the dry farmed tomatoes don't bruise as easily. Joe's dry farmed tomatoes are seriously good, and good in practically anything. I have been using them almost everyday since the season began, in my stir-fries, pan con tamate, tomato tart, pasta, or just eating outright like a fruit. Because it is, in fact, a fruit.

And the height of the dry farmed tomato season is coming on fast and furious. So much so that Joe asked me to pass along a public service announcement. And by public service announcement I mean advertisement for my friend!

He's got tomatoes, ladies and gentlemen, Joe's got lots of tomatoes. And he wanna sell them. To you. Yes. You. Don't be looking over your shoulder. It's you I'm talking to.

A Kiss Goodbye

What a lovely kiss from my good friends last night to send me off on my journey. Six of us were at Kiss Sushi, my ultimate comfort food place, to have Naka-san cooked a wonderfully grounded meal for me before I am off on a crazy If It's Saturday It Must Be El Bulli tour.

If you've never been to Kiss yet, and you live within a reasonable distance -what means reasonable I shall let you figure out- you should definitely try. I simply adore the place. The ingredients are always pristine, and the cooking skillful. It's always mesmerizing to see Naka-san quietly goes about his business behind that impeccable counter, sending piece after piece, and plate after plate, of deceptively simple deliciousness.

Tsunami benefit dinner at 1550 Hyde

My favorite neighbourhood eating place, 1550 Hyde will host a benefit dinner tomorrow night to raise money for Tsunami relief.

Matt Licklider, a San Francisco resident, is the project manager for the Yanui Beach Recovery Project, which is a grass-roots effort to rebuild some of the homes, businesses, and lives lost in the tsunamis of December 26th, 2004. Matt has returned temporarily to the Bay to raise enough money to fund this project, and will head back to Phuket in early April to supervise the effort. On Monday, March 21st, 1550 Hyde will host Matt Licklider at a benefit dinner. He will speak about the realities of this multinational recovery effort while raising his glass to those who wish to contribute.

More information can be found on their website.

Campton Place Restaurant: The prune is a fig

There are so many dinners I’ve had in the last few months -a disappointing meal at L’Arpège, a great one at Pierre Gagnaire, and many many others- which, for different reasons, I simply haven’t got around to writing about yet. As I’ve said before, if I blogged about everything I did in real time, I would have no life at all, which would –in turn- make for a very boring blog for you to read.

But once in a while, there’s a meal that simply begs to be written about immediately, even if it’s nearing midnight by the time I get home. The Campton Place dinner tonight is one. Why so, you asked? Well, because it is infuriating to see some place that was so very nearly there, with so much potential, stumbled on so many silly mistakes that could have easily been prevented.

I went to dinner tonight truly hoping to love the place, after all, it is really suboptimal to have to drive to Yountville or Los Gatos every time I want a great meal. I’ve heard some very nice things about the chef at Campton Place, and have been looking forward to trying his food. I decided at about 5pm today that tonight would be it, called the restaurant, and was able to get a 7pm table, a little on the early side for me, but as I’ve just come home from a long skiing weekend, the time was perfect.

My dining companion Dave and I arrived at the restaurant to find a very pleasant room that was much smaller than I’d expected, not more than 18-20 tables altogether. This was quite a good sign, I thought, as the small size of the dining room should make it easy for the kitchen to control the quality of the food. Together we decided to have the tasting menu to get a good turn around the chef’s repertoire on our first trip there.

10 reasons why I love being a foodie in San Francisco, Part III

4. In the lap of luxury at the French Laundry.
What more can I say about the French Laundry? It is great to have one of the best restaurants in the world practically in my own backyard (well I am speaking on a global scale here). The precise cooking, inventive –at times even whimsical- menu, perfectly inconspicuous service, and luxurious ingredients combine to create one of the best dining experiences anywhere in the world. I really should make it there more often.

3. Discovering Manresa.
Going to Manresa is more like visiting old friends than going to a restaurant these days. I’ve become such good friends with everyone there that Manresa is always a delightful experience, but it is clearly the food that keeps drawing me back over and over again.

10 reasons why I love being a foodie in San Francisco, Part II

7. Strolling to my neighbourhood haunts: 1550 Hyde, La Boulange de Polk, Tanpopo, and Kiss Sushi.
I am very lucky to have these lovely places within walking distance, anyone who lives in the city knows how big a pain it is to find a parking spot anywhere. I could stroll down toward Russian Hill at dinnertime to 1550 Hyde for a lovely meal with fresh local ingredients prepared lightly by skillful hands and a glass of lovely wine, or on a Sunday morning to La Boulange on Polk St. for a morning latte and some lovely cannelés. I also walk the other direction, toward Japantown, for a big, steaming bowl of Shoyu ramen with rows of pan fried Gyoza (Japanese dumplings) on the side, or, -best of all- to Kiss sushi for a sublime meal of sushi and anything else Naka-san decides to give me that day.

10 reasons why I love being a foodie in San Francisco, Part I

I get occasional emails from confounded readers, asking where it is that I actually live. I guess that is at times unobvious from reading the blog. It seems I’ve been writing more about other places than I do about my own adopted hometown, San Francisco. I really should change that, you think?

You might also notice that I seem to be quite into lists lately. So I might as well do another one, no? How about, 10 reasons why I love –just love- being a foodie in San Francisco? These are the people, places, and things that help make my experience here a marvelously delectable one. They are distinctly Californian -and even more uniquely so Bay Area- and nowhere else in the world. As much as I love and admire great cities like Paris and London, there are things here that would be sorely miss should I ever move somewhere else. And here is the top ten list of them.

Best/Worst food moments of 2004

Continuing on the tradition I began last year, here's the Best/Worst food moments of 2004:

Best overall food experience: Food blogging on Chez Pim

Best food shopping moment: A mad race across Paris in imaginary matching-colored scooters with Lynn and Matt to buy more honey from Jean Paul Couto at the marché bio on Blvd.Raspail. (more on this later)

Most fun cooking: Another Thai feast for the London friends, this time chez V.

Best I didn't know it could taste like that dish: This is a tie, between the slow-cooked egg with white bean soup at Manresa, and the tranche de lard fermier au caviar pressé at Pierre Gagnaire.

The man who turns me on..

...to beans that is. Who else but the Rancho Gordo himself?

No --oh gawd no-- this is not going to be that kind of story. You'll have to earn a secret pass to my girlfriends-only blog to hear that kind of story.

This one --almost equally tantalizing if you think about it, really-- is all about beans. I grew up in Asia, where beans are mostly eaten in desserts: sweet bean paste, sweet bean soups, even bean ice cream (yes, really). So, beans in a savory form have always been slightly odd to me, particularly those refried beans with the texture of cement paste that are all too common in mediocre Mexican joints. I'll eat an odd bean or two, when they came in things I love such as Cassoulet. But they have never been something that I relished, or that I could eat bowls after bowls of.

Pizzetta 211: at home in unexpected places

I often find myself at home in the oddest of places. It's perhaps because I've lived in so many cities, and been to even more, that home has become less a real place than wherever I find myself content. Drinking coffee by the window at the cafe around the corner from Neal's Yard, in the cold, damp London air, losing myself in the early morning bustle of Borough market. Sipping a cup of Darjeeling in the tranquil salon at Mariage Frères. Strolling Crissy Field at sunrise watching my city awakens.

So it is of no surprise to me that my favorite neighborhood place of the moment is in fact all the way across town, a little pizza shop in the Outer Richmond called Pizzetta 211. The shop occupies a tiny but cheerful and welcoming space which is half taken up by the kitchen and the big pizza oven. There are two window box tables, perfect for lounging, that give a feeling of being outdoor while protected from the cold foggy air, and even a few actual outside tables and an attractive tree bench for more weather-proof souls.

The menu is small but inspiring, focusing on what they do really well rather than covering all choices in the universe. It is also constantly changing, with a few pizzas, salad, a couple of cheeses, a cake or two and a few other side items. Everything here is not only seasonal, but also sustainably, organically, or artisanally produced.

A meal fit for a prophet

There is a well hidden secret deep in the heart of the colorful Tenderloin, a delicious secret, a mythical restaurant where superlative couscous could be had for merely a few dollars. It is but an ephemeral mirage: one must know exactly where it is, and when to visit, in order to partake in the feast.

I heard about this place from Malik, who in turn got the tip from an Tunisian cab driver in the city. A few months ago, we went off on a mini wild goose chase to find this mysterious place where the local North African cab drivers get their couscous fix on Friday night. I've been meaning to write about this place since then, but with my crazy living and eating schedule I just hadn't quite managed to do it.

Last night, I was there again for dinner, this time with fellow SF food bloggers Amy and Alder, and their respective significant others Lee and Ruth. All we expected was a deliciously simple meal of home cooked couscous, but what we stumbled upon was a fabulous break-fast Ramadan meal, a meal fit for a prophet. What a lovely high in this downer week of epic proportion!

3 kilos of what?

I crack myself up sometimes. I really do. What am I going to do with 3 kilos of Vahlrona Caraïbe chocolate? I just can't stop giggling about this. What the heck am I going to do with 3 kilos of chocolate? And, why have I found myself in this enviable position, you asked? Why..stark raving madness, that's why.

It all started innocently enough, a usual Saturday morning call to my friend Chiraz to see when she would be at the farmer's market and if we should meet up for lunch. As it turned out, Chiraz, Markus, and a couple other friends were on their way to the Made in France warehouse sale. Made in France is a local importer of food items from - you guessed it - France. Their monthly warehouse sales are a favorite shopping destination for the local european expat community, which includes my dear friends, the Frenchie Chiraz and another German boy Markus - and that's Mar-koos to you and me.

So - yes, innocently enough - I let my friends take me there, only to find myself lost in blissful Nirvana in the chocolate isle. 5-kilo bars of couverture chocolate from Callebaut, massive boxes of various types of Valrhona chocolates, and Côte d'Or bars - to which anyone who spent any part of their childhood in Europe is undoubtedly addicted - all laid out as far as the eyes could see.

It was dizzying.
It was intoxicating.
It was pure madness.

Jay Rayner on Manresa

When my friend Jay Rayner was in town from London to promote his new book - soon to be made into a Hollywood movie - Eating Crow, we drove down to Manresa for dinner. Jay - when he is not busy being a novelist - is an influential restaurant critic for the UK Guardian/Observer. We shared some wonderful meals together, one of which - our last year pig fest at St.John in London - ranked amongst the best meals we have ever had. Prior to this trip, he had just been in New York to do a review of Per Se. So, it was not without a slight trepidation that I took him down to Los Gatos to introduce him to David Kinch and Manresa.

Not that I wasn't confident of David's ability, only that, if anything at all went wrong, and he ended up writing a bad review of the place, it would just ruin all the fun for me. Another tough thing was that Jay had asked me not to tell Manresa that he was going to do a review, a request which, with some difficulty, I managed to comply.

So we went to Manresa, and had yet another truly wonderful meal there - I have since had two more, simply astonishing what that David is capable of. About 2/3 of the way through the meal, Jay turned to me and said "something catastrophic would have to happen for me not to write a rave review of the place".

Well, happily, nothing did, and he did, and here it is:

Course Célèbre

The French Laundry, simply, perfection

It is absolutely crazy that I go to L'Arpège much more often than I do the French Laundry—was there again just last week in fact—in spite of the former being in Paris and the latter being practically in my own backyard. Planning long enough in advance to go to the French Laundry had been unattainable with my crazy schedule—you do believe me about my crazy schedule, don't you?—so it had been two years since the previous time I was there.

Well, I finally managed a meal there last Sunday, and not just any meal, but a marvelous Sunday lunch as a guest of my dear friends Lizzie and John (you remember Lizzie and John?). They are very old friends of the house and we were treated accordingly. Everyone, including the chef Thomas Keller, dropped by to say hello. Service at the French Laundry has always been impeccable, it was difficult to imagine how they would do any better than they normally would. But boy oh boy, was I ever wrong? Let me tell you, I simply have not seen anything like it, seriously, definitely not in this country, and not even in France.

I went with my friend Dave, a replacement date after my original date flaked out. Yes, I heard something about a brain dysfunction—why else would anyone flake on the French Laundry? Well, I ended up driving up from the city to Dave and Ally's house in Napa, and from there, our designated driver Ally took us to the restaurant. How sweet is that Ally?

It was a beautiful Sunday, even in the state of hangover-induced stupor from my birthday bash the previous night, I still found it beautiful. The building that housed the French Laundry was just as pretty as ever, hidden on a leafy and tranquil part of the main street that ran through downtown of the gourmandise paradise that is tiny Yountville. Dave and I were a few minutes late, finding Liz and John already seated and sipping champagne at table, in the cozy alcove bathed in sky light in the soothing downstairs room.

Soothing is always a great descriptor for the French Laundry. Even as we were led through the many courses, many bottles, and indeed many hours meal, nothing ever felt harried or rushed. The atmosphere was ever calm and soothing, the food stunningly simple in its glorious complexity, and the service inconspicuously attentive. Soothing is indeed a good word.

I have been a few times before, but nothing in my previous experience has prepared me for this visit as a guest of Liz and John, who are so universally loved by all at the restaurant. As we sat down, our champagne glasses were magically filled with delightful Gimmonet MV, a refreshing start for our long journey into the heart of this temple of gastronomy.

la educación de Señorita Pim

My friends have been rather worried about the gaping hole in my culinary education. “To hell with L'Arpège”, Malik said, “we are taking you Taco Truck crawling!”

So, the first time was a few weeks ago when my friend David from London was in town. After dropping off yet another friend who had been visiting at Oakland airport, Malik, David and I were on our way to meet the Melkors for a nice day in the wine country, when Malik decided to take a mini detour to give me my very first lesson in the Arts and Sciences of Taco Truck Appreciation.

Michael Mina Restaurant: Talent alone does not a restaurant make

I've been hearing so much hype about Michael Mina's eponymous restaurant that I finally had to give it a try. Thanks to some very sweet friends, I managed to get a coveted table on a busy night within a week, instead of the normal 2 months wait for a table.

So, I sauntered down to the Westin St.Francis the other night with Dave, Ally, and Paul for our 8pm table. Truth be told, I was not feeling too well that night, but I wouldn't have given up that reservation unless I was tied to a hospital bed. Oh how I suffered for my art—or was it my obsession—any how, you get the point.

In any case, I arrived on time, for a change, and found all my friends already waiting at the newly refurbished lobby of the Westin. The modern, sleek, and understated design has now become the standard of all the Westin hotels around the world—not to mention their truly heavenly Heavenly Bed that had me asking for the Westin every time I planned a work trip.

The decor at restaurant Michael Mina is in the same style, nice mix of warm beige and cool grey, a welcomed change from the stodgy and flowery lounge where my mother and I used to go to tea when she was in town.

We checked in with the hostess and, having arrived early, was told to wait in the lobby while our table was being set up. Someone appeared to whisk away our wines and our coats. To their credit, we didn't have to wait long at all for our table.

encore at Manresa, with Chez Pim's first guest blogger, Liz

I was at chef David Kinch's wonderful restaurant Manresa again last week, this time bringing some serious gourmets, namely Liz and John, and my dear friend Matthew, with me.

And by serious I do mean Serious. No kidding. If you think I knew anything about haute cuisine, think again. I don't, really, at least not when compared to Liz and her husband John, who go on their au stomach trips, as they call them, every year to Europe, hitting practically every two-three star places on their path. They have both eaten at every single 3 star places in France, most more than once. And they are practically on first name basis with starred chefs all over France. They've recently told me, very kindly, that next time I go to Paris and want to revisit Gagnaire I should let them know. They will tell Pierre to expect me. Yes, that Pierre.

Besides the obvious educational benefit to be gained from dining with Liz and John, they are also such delightful company. We had such a wonderful time, with the superb food, the attentive and impeccable service, and with each other's company. So much so that the night, which started at 7.30 and didn't end until half past one, went by like magic.

David, the chef, really outdid himself. We were completely blown away. The last time I was there with other friends, we had a good meal, but this time it was stupendous, and, yes, the cliché, sublime. Every ingredient was of the best quality, every taste distinct, hitting every note perfectly, forming a wondrous symphony. He left nothing to chance, every bite, every drop of sauce, every progression of taste, each completely planned, and worked perfectly and harmoniously. There were one thing or two that were perhaps too assertively tasting, the bone marrow on the beef, for example, but it would just be nitpicky to pick on those, as the meal, taken as a whole, was indeed marvelous.

I am so very honored to announce that Liz, who writes amazing and vivid narratives on her annual au stomach trips, has agreed to be the very first guest blogger on Chez Pim. The post below is her wonderful recounting of our meal at Manresa.

Take it away, Lizzie….

Manresa - Along for the Ride with Pim and Matthew by Liz Haskell

Manresa - Along for the Ride with Pim and Matthew

by Liz

What better way to sample David Kinch's cuisine at Manresa than with the indomitable Pim. To say she is a whirlwind is an understatement. The evening was as enjoyable for food as it was for company. In addition to Pim, we were lucky to have Pim's good friend, Matthew. He wasn't quite as pretty, but he was equally as enjoyable and knowledgeable about everything from food to computers to just about any topic that we could come up with.

We had made the trip from LA in under five hours. This gave us plenty of time to explore Los Gatos, a sleepy residential neighborhood with upscale food shops (Sur La Table and William Sonoma), antiques, a Rolls Royce dealership and multiple restaurants, but none high end except for Manresa.

In sweats and looking definitely sloppy, we decided to peak in Manresa about 3:30, 4 hours before our reservation. David Kinch, the chef was at the door and we immediately starting comparing "who do you know" games plus a discussion of tonight's meal. He said he felt definite pressure when he knew Pim was on the books -- he worked really hard on her menu. We were lucky to be along for the ride.

1550 Hyde, keeps getting better

Well, you know, I don't know if I could be objective about 1550 Hyde anymore. They know me by now, and treat me so well I feel like that dining room is my living room.

But if my opinion still matters to you, I just have to say that I like them more and more every time I go.

Tonight, Malik and I went there again for dinner. Malik had just returned from a month in Europe, and wanted some place uniquely San Francisco for his first dinner back home. I couldn't think of a better place than 1550 Hyde.

We had a marvelous tomato salad with Spanish anchovies to start, then the fried soft shell crab, which was as good as ever. For dinner, we shared a pasta with duck sugo, fantasticly flavorful and rich, and a very good braised rabbit afterwards. For dessert, we had the yellow nectarice crisp, which, unlike the white peach version I had the other day, this was wonderful. Even Mailk, who's normally not a fan of crisp, liked it a lot.

I had a glass of Vouvray then a Burgundy with my dinner, lovely wines for very reasonable prices. Stanley, our very nice waiter, also poured us a lovely muscat to go with our dessert.

All in all, the meal was just so lovely I had to say something about it. Isn't it wonderful to have a place like this in my neighbourhood?

1550 Hyde Cafe and Wine Bar: a delightful new addition to my favorite San Francisco