A few weeks ago, a few of us went to Aziza, having heard great things about this Moroccan restaurant...

Kim: I was so excited when we walked into Aziza's dimly-lit bar and dining room. It was beautifully decorated, and transported you right off the bustle of Geary and into a different world. But trouble was lurking in the tranquility. The first sign came when the host ignored us while she argued with a waiter. When she did turn to us, I almost felt like we were imposing on her. But then we were whisked off to our table, and I chalked it up to a minor intrusion. Our waiter promptly came to our table, told us the specials, then breezed away, not to be seen again for about 20 minutes while we desperately tried to get his attention to order our cocktails. Fortunately, once they arrived and we sipped them, we became blissfully happy.

Stephanie: Dude, I totally didn't notice the hostess thing! I was too entranced by all the filmy curtains and deep booths carved into the walls. You know, the booths we didn't get to sit in. However, if I were to judge Aziza by cocktails alone, I would give them full, slightly slurred, marks. I mean, let's face it, their Lavender & Honey gin martini? Golden iridescent perfection that managed to give me full lavender without tasting like my grandmother's perfume. Dr. Mathra's Ginger & Pear drink was similarly wonderful, right down to the skewered candied ginger garnish, and Kim's Preserved Lemon Drop was lovely and refreshing. There are many more cocktails I'd go back for as well -- I mean, how could I not try their version of a Bloody Mary made with balsamic vinegar? Or the Marrakech Express with cardamom espresso? -- but I'd have to go with a full stomach because I don't really intend to eat there again.

Kim: Me neither. Not that the food was bad, because it wasn't. In fact, some of it was really tasty, but the service! I don't know if something was going on that night, but it was probably some of the weirdest and worst service I've had in a long time. Although I have to say it was quite friendly in all of its badness. Anyway, we ordered the cocktails and received them quite promptly, but then had to wait for another 20 minutes before ordering the rest of our meal (at which point we were told we could not order appetizers and entrees separately, they had to go in as one order).

Stephanie: Seriously -- what was that about? I've never been to a restaurant where I was told that they "couldn't" take just our first course order without getting our mains. Anyway, we had pretty much decided what we wanted. That is until Kim made the fatal mistake of asking our waiter what he suggested. When he praised the lamb shank, Kim had the briefest of pauses as she started to rethink her original choice. Now, you'd think that the waiter could have just asked the rest of us what we wanted, since it was clear we had our minds made up and thus given Kim time to mull. Nope. As soon as Kim showed some hesitation the waiter was off and running again. When he finally came back, Kim actually had the balls to inquire about the chef's tasting menu. The waiter rattled off, "You get a starter, a basteeya, couscous, a main, and dessert." Um, dude? Yeah, we could tell that from what it said on menu, but we were really looking for more along the lines of why the tasting menu "highlights the flavors and textures which encompass the entire range of [the] menu." Whatever. We didn't press it. We ordered. Our appetizers arrived fairly quickly and they were all tasty. However, Kim and I did find the carrot soup to be a bit too orangey and sweet for our tastes, but Wendy and Dr. Mathra really liked it. The wild mushroom phyllo triangles were delicious and, except for one of the three being a bit too sweet, the Mediterranean spreads were also yummy. The problem was more the portion size.

Kim: The mushroom pastries were divine: crisp, light phyllo and a delicious medley of mushrooms. The smoky eggplant spread combined with the yogurt spread and the (too few) triangles of freshly grilled flatbread were completely addictive. As soon as they set the dish down, though, we knew we would need to order more flatbread and fortunately we were able to order and receive it very quickly. Still, even with an additional order, we didn't have enough to finish our spreads. We also ordered the kefta skewers, tender little grilled meatballs and grapes on a refreshing cucumber salad. They were also quite tasty. The main dishes came shortly after we finished our appetizers. We decided to order four dishes and more or less share them. Stephanie ordered the grilled rosemary lamb brochettes, and those ended up being my favorite. Sadly, there were only three brochettes, each with two pieces of lamb, which in my opinion, seemed a bit stingy. I ordered the Andulusian Chilean sea bass, which I actually didn't realize was sea bass or I never would have ordered it. (Um, I don't know what I was thinking but the cocktail and all the waiting time obviously went to my head. I must've had halibut on the brain. Bad Kim. But then again, why was it even on the menu?!) I wasn't terribly thrilled with my entrée, but others seemed to like it, even though it was a very small piece of fish for the price. Dr. Mathra ordered the Couscous Aziza, chock full of grilled and stewed meats and seafood, vegetables, and excellent couscous. And Wendy ordered the coriander veal stew, which was good but a bit overly rich for my taste, although she seemed to love it.

Stephanie: More weird service issues occurred when the mains came. The waiter who was bringing our dishes (different from the one who took our order) having previously blown off Kim when she asked for more flatbread ("I'll tell your waiter," he pointedly tossed over his shoulder as he walked away with our empty bottle of Fitou), decided that now was the time to start telling jokes. Dirty jokes. He made an unfunny about halibut that I don't even remember except that it was totally random and then he said, "What do you call a guy that has been circumcised?" Blank looks from all of us. "He's not playing with a full dick." This as he puts down Dr. Mathra's couscous with grilled sausages! People? I'm not a prude but it was just one more weird thing in a whole night of weirdness. And don't even get me started on how hard it was to get paper towels out of the dispenser in the bathroom. Sustainable agriculture issues aside, I really did like the fish. It was light and flavorful and I'd definitely get it again except man, the piece was so tiny! It was like one bite! And not even a big one at that. My dish was the best but then again, I'm a self-named lambivore. The lamb was done perfectly. Dark pink on the inside, grilled on the outside, and lamby goodness throughout. However, as Kim said, not enough lamb. Not enough for one person and certainly not enough to share. The saffron-scented couscous Dr. Mathra got and the portion served with my lamb was exceptional. If I could make couscous like that at home, I'd make it all the time. For dessert, Kim got some atrocious coffee that was so sour it made me wonder if they need to clean their filter, and we all shared a brownie sundae with almond milk ice cream and almond brittle. Again, teeny tiny serving for the price, and I really don't know where the brownie even was. Maybe going to Aziza is like going on a diet. Problem is, I don't like diets.

Posted by KimG and Stephanie

I have the great fortune to live a few blocks from rue Mouffetard, one of the oldest streets in Paris. As a matter of fact, it is the original Roman road that ran from Paris to Rome via Lyon, with plaques on buildings dating from the late 1500s! It runs from Hemingway’s early stomping grounds, Place de la Contrescarpe just behind the Panthéon, down to St Médard Square, next to St Médard church and the start of avenue des Gobelins.

My first week in Paris, I went exploring around my neighborhood with my new friend Kendall. We crossed Place Monge, took a left, a right and another left and we both stopped in our tracks with a gasp. The most charming cobblestone street lay at our feet.

For piétons (pedestrians) only, rue Mouffetard, or la Mouffe, as they call it, is also the oldest market in Paris, predating the current name to times when this City of Lights was still called Lutèce.

Charming yet unassuming butchers (boucheries), bakers (boulangeries), candlestick makers (just kidding), poissoneries (fish stores), patisseries, magasins du vin (wine stores), and cafés line the street. Lovingly displayed produce such as crates of peppers in every color overflowing onto the tables and cascading mountains of burgundy-red strawberries seduce you. It was hard to take it all in as I was overcome with a feeling of being transported back to the Middle Ages. I thought to myself, “This is Paris! This is why I came here! This is why everyone comes here!”

The market is open daily though many shops will close between 1pm and 4pm and in August, especially the poissonerie. And unfortunately all 3 poisonneries in the neighborhood are owned by the same person so no fish in August or 1pm-4pm. Many of the shops have upgraded and actually extend their counters into the street bringing their delicacies right up to you. If you don’t watch your step you are liable to find yourself face first in a crate of mushrooms or on a table of salmon! Don’t let too many trips go by like I did to stumble upon this little gem of a neighborhood! Put this on your Things I Must Do in Paris list.

Rue Mouffetard, 5th arrondissement, Latin Quarter
Métro: Place Monge (#7), Censier-Daubenton (#7)

It's interesting that I was already planning a post on "pink wine" when I read this in the New York Times food pages this week. Wine with lipstick-red labels? Corks that say "It's my natural color"? Can someone pass me the spit bucket? Because I think I'm gonna hurl.

Then there's the Mad Housewife wine label that bears the line "Somewhere near the cool shadows of the laundry room. Past the litter box and between the plastic yard toys. This is your time." Sorry but to me? That makes it sound like Mad Housewife's "time" is in the garage drinking from a paper bag.

Now "Rosé the Riveter" is a cute name only if the wine is as robust as its namesake. However, considering what Eric Asimov (the Times' major vino domo) had to say about the White Lie Early Season Chardonnay, I don't hold out much hope. I'm with Kris Curran, who is quoted at the end of the article saying that she finds the idea of chick wine "demeaning" and that "it's implying women don't have as a sophisticated a palate." Seriously. I've never considered wine to be was purely masculine pursuit, too complex for little, weak women to get their heads around unless it's dolled up in lingeried packaging and corked with "feminine" white lies. Sure, wine can be intimidating, but so is starting a new job, or moving to a new city, or taking comutative algebra. That's why you do research, ask questions, and suck it up and experience new things. And if you're too afraid to do that, you just might be too afraid to live life.

Anyway, glad to get that off my chest -- on to my original post.

I started my life with wine in a similar way to Fatemah. I embraced the white zin and let the bottle of Beringer be pried out of my poor, unenlightened hands only when it was traded in for a new world of sweet German or Alsatian wines, with Gewürztraminers, Rieslings, and even the odd Liebfraumilch topping the list. After I graduated college, I stayed away from all pink wines for a good many years. Instead, I obsessed over reds, revelling in lovely Gigondas, D'Abruzzo, and anything with "Côte" in the name. Then, while studying the regions of France in culinary school, I discovered Rosé Anjou. That single spicy bottle (and a summer of Peter Mayle) made me see the error of my blush-worthy ways: there's absolutely nothing wrong with pink wine as long as it's good pink wine.

I'm currently on a quest to again find the delights I experienced in that pivotal bottle of Rosé Anjou. I thought I might have found it last week when a persuasive and effusive wine guy at the Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant extolled the bottled virtues of Lawson's Dry Hills Marlborough Pinot Rosé. He was so excited about this $15.00 of New Zealand rosé that I knew there was no way I was leaving the store without it. I could barely restrain myself at work from opening and tasting it right there. But I was good. I was patient. After all, good things come to those who wait, right? Sadly, it wasn't to be. The wine was refreshing and nice but nothing special. Nothing spicy. And I certainly don't think it would hold up to red meat the way Wine Guy promised it would. As it barely held its own with an excellent salad Niçoise, I'm thinking grilled lamb chops would clobber it.

So, there you are: I'm a woman. I wear makeup. I get facials. I wear skirts and I occasionally buy an ill-advised pair of ouchy-sexy shoes. However, I drink real wine.

Don't you just love to hate celebrity chefs? Like a bad accident, I can't stop looking. I feel the need to see what they are up to and read about their exploits and scandals. A guilty pleasure, you could say.

Another guilty pleasure for me is reality TV. But, I am super fussy about the reality TV shows I like. The ones I like are few and far between and have more to do with ability than dumb luck. Seeing people use their actual skills is much more interesting than seeing them eat something disgusting or rely on trickery and manipulation to win a prize or a spouse.

The combination of these two guilty pleasures along with one of the things PBS does best--cooking shows, means that I can't wait to watch Cooking Under Fire. This is a first for PBS, a documentary style series that will follow twelve contestants on a cooking competition that takes place in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Miami, and New York. The show intends to give an inside view at the mental and physical challenges and intense pressures faced in the restaurant industry, and demonstrate the combination of talent and skills that it takes to succeed. The grand prize is a chef's job in one of Todd English's New York restaurants.

The judges? I'm so glad you asked, they are each celebrity chefs! In this case Ming Tsai, Todd English and award-winning cookbook author, Michael Ruhlman. There will also be local guest chef judges including San Francisco's own, Michael Mina (that episode takes place in Las Vegas).

Cooking Under Fire premieres tonight at 8 pm on PBS, channel 9. After the first "audition" episode stay tuned for the second installment as the competition begins in Los Angeles.

This blogging phenomenon has flung open the doors to the world and connected me with people all over the planet. This particular evening I was having dinner with a woman from Los Angeles who, like me a few years ago, wants to make a change in her life and being a Francophile at heart, is naturally drawn to Paris. She stumbled on my little web site, felt a kindred spirit, et voila, two months later she lands in Paris!

We met at Le Pré Verre, a bistro du vin (wine bar) in the 5th arrondisement. It is on the corner of rue Thenard and rue Sommerard, 1 block south of blvd St Germain and 1 block east of rue St Jacques. My friend Antoinette enlightened me to this local gem that I never would have stumbled upon. Chef Delacourcelle lived in Asia so he works with ingredients such as a cassia (cinnamon), bard and tamarind and he also trained with the late Bernard Loiseu and mastered French pastry at Fauchon. Needless to say, we were in for a memorable meal.

I had the exact same plat (main course) and dessert I had the week before as it was so superb I couldn't stop thinking about it. I opted for a different entrée (appetizer) as the petite pois et fois gras (baby peas and duck liver) terrine was too tempting. Last visit I started with the velouté de cresson (watercress soup) topped with chorizo sausage flavored foam and chopped peanuts. The melding of flavors and textures was a wonderful surprise and simply delicious. This time, in honor of spring blooming around me, I opted for the petite pois et fois gras terrine. Once again a subtle combination of flavors and textures and combine perfectly. The lettuce on the bottom was unnecessary and distracting but the lovely radish disks and slightly spicy vinaigrette added a wonderful crunch and spice to this already perfect dish.

For my plat (main course), I selected the morue avec purée fumée (Cod with Smoked Mashed Potatoes). The cod was seared in cassia (cinnamon) which not knowing this when I ordered it (on my first visit) made my first bite a brilliant surprise. The cod simply melted in my mouth and the unctuous cinnamon cream sauce enhanced the caramelized spice. The puréed potatoes were other-worldly. They were smoked first so they had that earthy, smokey, hickory taste and puréed perfectly smooth. When scooped with a bit of the cinnamon cream sauce, I didn't want to stop eating them...ever.

Dessert, the crescendo, was simple yet spectacular. The descriptor, fraises mariné au persil (strawberries marinated in parsley), doesn't begin to do it justice. The strawberries were quartered and marinated in cointreau and chopped parsley. The mound of berries were then topped with finely chopped nuts and a large quenelle (football shaped scoop) of glacé du persil! Parsley ice cream!!! Who'd a thought? Pas moi (not me) that's for sure! A very refreshing and visually beautiful end to an amazing meal. Cue cymbals!

35 euros each with a glass of wine (a Chinon from Bordeau, i think?)...worth every centime and then some!

Le Pré Verre
Chef Delacourcelle
8 rue Thenard
75005 Paris
+33 (0)1 43 54 59 47
Metro: Maubert Mutualite (#10)

"Back when I was just beginning to drink wine, I visited my aunt & uncle in Switzerland. Marc loved his glass of wine when he came back from the office and, though he could have afforded French or Italian wines, he drank the local wine from the place where he grew up. He taught me that it doesn't matter what the label is, how much it costs, or what the reviewers say. The [only thing that] matters is that you enjoy the wine."

Listening to Spencer Garrett talk about wine is like taking a journey that starts in Italy and winds its way through Switzerland and Turkey before settling somewhere between Berkeley and France.

Studying in Florence some dozen years ago, his wine's life started with bottles of the local Chianti, shared with fellow students over dinner or picnics. But somewhere along the way, the intellectual in him came out, and he found himself buying two different bottles of 1990 Chianti to taste side-by-side.

"It was a seminal moment," he says, "because it went from appreciation of wine for its social aspect, to being able to think of wine in an academic, comparative way."

After moving back to the States, Garrett took a non-credit wine-tasting class and continued exploring wine as a hobby, all the while calling Kendall-Jackson Vintner's Reserve Chardonnay his "house wine." A few years later, he was studying archaeology in Turkey and watched his hobby turn into a Master's Thesis.

"Over nine months, I brainstormed 11 possible thesis subjects and when I took them to my advisor, he [crossed off every one but] the last... it was my last choice, but I spent 18 months researching classical Greco-Roman wine making... in the Mediterranean."

After a stint at a custom crush facility in California, Garrett turned his attentions toward wine sales and today, he helps wine buyers stock their cellars at Kermit Lynch, an importer & retailer in Berkeley.

In his 20 months there, he's tasted over 950 wines, and he says that 99% of his wine purchases have been from their own stock. So, has access to this extremely focused collection of imports changed his own palate?

"Absolutely. One aspect is that [Kermit] is really, really good at choosing wine, whether it's $10 or $150 wine. And I love Rhones, red & white Loire wines and White Burgundy. I have some California wines that I can't drink anymore because they don't taste right [to me]. But I also don't eat the way I used to; I don't have as much red meat as I think the American wines call for."

When asked what he considers a "pinnacle" moment in his wine's life, Garrett tells two stories. First, of a family reunion last November in the private room of Farallon with a magnum of En Remilly Chassagne-Montrachet.

"The celebratory act of having it in a magnum, in this private room; having family & friends gathered there... and everybody across the spectrum loved [this wine] -- it sang for the people who know a lot, and it sang for the people who didn't know anything. And the wine worked with every single plate."

Then, Garrett starts talking about a tasting of Paul Bara Champagnes... his eyes close, his hands start gesturing, trying to capture words that could possibly describe the experience.

"When the ['93 Comtesse Marie de France] went into my mouth, it rose up and tingled and levitated... I felt 50 pounds lighter with that Champagne in my mouth... I felt like I was swallowing a golden orb."

Clearly, Spencer Garrett is passionate about his wine. So does he have a message for wine consumers?

"There is so much out there to taste and explore and learn. No one can taste it all. But it's like traveling -- you never know who you're going to meet. Go to different restaurants, try different things, explore. Just get excited about it."

Spencer Garrett works for Kermit Lynch, the eponymous Berkeley wine importer and retailer of French & Italian wines.

posted by Fatemeh Khatibloo-McClure

Tonight at sundown is the beginning of Pesach (Passover), the Jewish holiday that celebrates the Exodus from Egypt after generations of slavery. During the eight days of Passover, there are gatherings of friends and family and lavish dinners, called Seders, where the story of Passover is retold.

One thing that I love about Jewish holidays is the symbolism of the food, and few are more symbolic than the Seder dinner. I've been to many different Seders over the years, and they can range from very traditional to alternative and casual. I've been to huge gatherings where the dinner table runs the length of the house and smaller celebrations that are more intimate. The last few years we have attended a women's vegetarian Seder (which we will be participating in tomorrow night!).

Regardless of the number of guests or the type of Seder, there are often similar symbolic foods that grace nearly every table, such as the Seder plate, which contains the following items:
• Charoset, a mixture of nuts, apples, cinnamon and wine that represents the mortar and bricks that the Jewish slaves made for the Pharaoh in Egypt
• Parsley that is dipped in salt water to represent tears that were shed as a result of Jewish slavery
• A roasted or boiled egg, which is a symbol of Spring
• A shank bone, representing the sacrificial lamb (or at the vegetarian feast, something else is used such as a yam or other vegetable or fruit)
• Bitter herbs, often freshly-grated horseradish and Romaine lettuce, representing the bitterness of slavery

Matzah, which is an unleavened cracker-like bread, is an important part of the Seder. It represents the haste with which the Israelites fled Egypt, as they did not have time to wait for the yeast to rise and had to bake the dough into flat bread in the desert sun. No leavened foods or grains are allowed to be eaten during the eight days of Passover. Matzah is broken at the table and shared between guests. Most people purchase it, but you can make your own if you are adventurous.

Wine is also a significant component of the Seder. Four glasses of wine are poured to represent the four stages of the Exodus. Finally, a place is set and a fifth cup of wine is poured for the prophet Elijah.

Matzah ball soup, spring vegetables such as asparagus and artichokes, braised brisket, roast leg of lamb, and flourless chocolate cake are some of my favorite dishes that you often see on the Seder table. Here is my favorite recipe for Braised Brisket "Tzimmes" -- melt in your mouth brisket with yams and prunes which we often eat for Passover. Yum!

Braised Brisket Tzimmes

1 brisket, about 4 lbs, trimmed of fat
1 teaspoon paprika
Kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 large yellow onions, sliced thinly
1 teaspoon ground allspice
2 cups dry red wine
2 cups crushed tomatoes or tomato puree
1 bay leaf
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 large yams, peeled and cut into large chunks
1 cup pitted prunes, cut into quarters

Rub the brisket all over with the paprika, salt, and pepper. In a large Dutch oven or stockpot, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Brown the brisket on all sides until deep brown, about 10 minutes total. Remove the brisket and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 325F. In the Dutch oven, over medium heat, saute the onions until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Add the allspice, wine, tomatoes, bay leaf, and thyme and stir together. Bring to a low boil then add the brisket, cover, and place in the oven. Cook until the meat is fork-tender, about 3 hours, basting the meat occasionally. Add the yams and prunes. Cover and cook for another hour, or until the yams are tender.

Remove from the oven. If you plan to serve the brisket right away, remove the meat to a serving tray and slice it across the grain into thick slices. Skim the fat off the sauce and pour the sauce and vegetables over the meat. To serve the next day, let cool to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight. The next day, preheat the oven to 350F. Skim the fat from the sauce. Remove the brisket, slice it across the grain into thick slices, add it back to the sauce and reheat for about 30 minutes or until warmed through. Enjoy!

For the past month or so I've been smoothing a path from work on Montgomery Street to the Ferry Building. Considering all the bounties that the Ferry Building has to offer -- including warmer air than the chilly shade of tall buildings -- that's no surprise. But I haven't been taking advantage of the Farmer's Market or visiting my old pals at Cowgirl Creamery. I've been spending all my time at Out the Door, Slanted Door's new takeout counter.

When I was working at the Ferry Building full time, I drooled for the day that the much talked about takeout counter would open, but it never happened on my watch. Now it has. Now I'm hooked. I sit at my desk and count the hours until I can have the delectable chicken salad. The poached and shredded chicken is tossed with thinly sliced green cabbage and rice noodles in a so-light-you-can't-believe-there's-actually-oil-in-it peppery dressing and topped with scallions, basil, and a few bits of crunchy caramelized onions. For one who really loves their salads (and I do), that $8.00 gets me heaven in a bowl.

When tasting out any new ice cream or frozen yogurt place or company, I always judge their quality by their vanilla. With Vietnamese restaurants, I investigate their Imperial Rolls. Slanted Door didn't let me down when I sampled the crispy rolls at the restaurant, and I'm happy to note that the quality of the rolls isn't diminished in the least by their takeout status. For $7.50, you get the rolls packaged in a plastic box with the traditional accompaniements of green lettuce sheafs, mint, and rice noodles. The cup of nuoc mam is delicious enough to drink. Not that I did that or anything. The lemongrass pork and rice noodles ($8.50) and egg noodles and yellow chives ($7.00) are also quite nice and I would definitely be ordering them again if I wasn't so completely hooked on the chicken salad.

San Francisco magazine just did a piece on the best takeout in the city and they mentioned something about Out the Door that I've never seen advertized on the menu: their "raw deal." This is where you get meals disassembled, packed up, and ready to take home, so you can pretend you created the dish with your own two hands and wok. Considering the mag judges the disassembled Shaking Beef for $6.50 to be one of the "best bets," I'm certainly going to ask about it next time I get my chicken salad.

Title: Writer/Performer, currently appearing in I Look Like An Egg, But I Identify as a Cookie an interactive baking comedy
Hometown: Niagara-on-the-Lake (Canada) now San Francisco

1. How did you come up with the idea of baking onstage?
I had done stand-up for a long time and I was trying to figure out what to do with my hands for 90 minutes. I always found it comforting to bake. It's relaxing and helps me get into the creative flow. Then it kept growing. Somewhere along the line I realized I could structure the stories with the recipe.

2. Where do the cookies served at the end of you show come from?
I bake all of them fresh the day of the show. For the integrity of the show I think it would be wrong not to. It's very soothing and I rehearse the show that way. I would prefer to bake them all live. My original vision was to have 20 easy bake ovens, but you can only make so much with a light bulb! I almost did the show in a place that sells appliances with a wall of ovens.

3. What were meals like for you growing up?
The Friday night Shabbat salon dinners had a transformative effect on my life. Eating a meal once a week with 16 people is what helped keep our family together. It was the highlight of my life growing up. I made little shows for my family with my cousins. It's the time when we were together, and sharing. My work is about sharing and connecting. I think food connects us. It's a basic thing. It's what I try to do in the show.

4. What are your favorite bakeries?
I love a good boulangerie or patisserie. I love the apricot danish at Nabolom Bakery in the East Bay. I used to go to the patisserie on California at Fillmore. I love the s'more thing at Citizen Cake.

5. What are the big differences between Canadians and Northern Californians?
There are a million Canadians living in Northern California, making it the third or fourth largest Canadian city. Canada is less urban. It's super-expressive here. In Canada there is no first amendment. Canada is more culturally conservative, I mean in demeanor and temperament. Canadians don't seem like crazy liberals the way people here do. No one wants to stick out. But there are a lot of similarities. Maybe fleece is the thing that holds the two places together?

Note: This run of "Cookie" at the Hotel Rex closes in April. There are two more shows left with Lewis Rossman of Cetrella as guest baker next Sunday and George Morrone (Tartare, Aqua, Fifth Floor) on Monday. Visit Subvert for ticket information.

As you know if you read my previous pizza post, I am a serious pizza aficionado. To the point of obsessiveness. I am also on a quest to perfect my own pizza recipe. I would love to find a way to make a fabulous pizza in my home oven. I know, it will never be the same because my oven only goes up to 500F, and to really truly get the best crust you need an oven temp closer to 800F. And my standards are way too high. Lofty even. Hrm. Then again, deep down, I don't think that having lofty pizza expectations is a bad thing. In fact, not in the least, as it keeps me out there trying new pizzerias and experimenting at home.

So what does a girl do when she can't fly to Portland or NY or Rome every time she has a pizza craving? (Okay, that wasn't really fair, because there is quite a lot of great pizza here in the Bay Area. I've just not yet found my ultimate gold standard.) She makes her own. And then makes it again. And again. And she hopes that someday she will find or develop the perfect home pizza recipe. That day has not yet arrived for me, although the experiments continue.

Let me back up for a minute. Growing up, my mom always made homemade pizza. Thanks to her, pizza night for us was way better than for most people, because I grew up in Texas in the 70s. Just try to find an edible pizza. Actually, there was one place in Dallas that I remember had really great pizza and delicious crab claws: Campisi's Egyptian Lounge. It's been around since the 1940s. Of course, I would be afraid to go back and ruin my happy memories of the place, but maybe it's still good. Anyway, I digress. My mom made great pizza, and is still to this day experimenting and perfecting and changing her recipe (and my dad, ever loyal, is still sampling it and claiming it as the best pizza in the universe). Because of her, I developed a love of pizza. Well, maybe a passion, edging on obsession. And I've been making pizza for years. All different kinds, and all different recipes. Some were flat-out disasters, and some were amazing, some I couldn't replicate, and others were fine but still not amazing.

The other night I decided I needed to start trying the recipes in American Pie, Peter Reinhart's tribute to my favorite food group (and his too, I imagine). If you haven't seen or read or bought this book, and you like pizza, then I highly recommend purchasing it. It's a great worldwide adventure in search of the ultimate pizza. It also contains a wealth of knowledge and recipes.

I made his Neo-Neapolitan Sauce and Mutz Pizza (seen above; with some yummy housemade Italian sausage from Golden Gate Meat Company in the SF Ferry Building). I actually, for once, followed the recipe as exactly as I could. (Well, except for the sausage. I admit I have a hard time following many recipes, I always think I know better. Kind of absurd since I'm a cookbook editor. Or not.)

The crust was described as being most similar to what you would find at the famed NY and New Haven-type pizzerias, like John's, Frank Pepe's, etc. -- a thin, crisp crust with a nice cornicione, generally my favorite. I made the crust according to the recipe, using high-gluten flour, but it wasn't sticky as the recipe suggested. I did like that he suggested retiring the dough to the refrigerator overnight. This slows the rising time and allows the dough to develop and become more flavorful. I also made the Crushed Tomato Sauce recipe, using a can of 6 in 1 tomatoes. This could not be easier, and I have to say, ended up being my favorite part of the pizza, and my new favorite sauce recipe. It's simple and because you don't cook the sauce down, very flavorful. I imagine the choice of canned tomatoes would be key in this sauce, and I suppose I chose well. I also liked the three-cheese mixture of fresh mozzarella, mozzarella, and Parmesan. I prepared the pies on the peel and slid them off onto my unglazed ceramic tile-lined oven rack in my 500F oven, which had been preheating for an hour. Within 10 minutes we were rewarded with beautiful and delicious pizza. yum yum.

The crust, while one of the better that I have made, was not ideal. It was flavorful, but brittle and dry, perhaps even a bit overcooked (although the bottom was nicely browned). It had none of the crisp-yet-tender chewiness that I look for, and no cornicione to speak of. Part of the problem was likely the ratio of flour to water, even though I followed the recipe measurements, it's always a good idea when making bread to make adjustments (assuming you know what the dough is supposed to feel like). Also, it's likely that I pulled the dough a bit too thin, especially around the edges.

I will definitely try the dough recipe again, and I'll be trying his other dough recipes as well, continuing my search for the ultimate home pizza. Crust anyway.

On another pizza note, one of my friends was at Tartine this afternoon and ran into a guy who said he was opening a new pizza place in Oakland in a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, she didn't get any more details than that. Does anyone know anything about this? He might have ties with Delfina (where he was seen prior to Tartine), but I really don't know. What I do know is that Craig Stoll of Delfina is working on his own pizzeria. Oh, I can't wait!