Check, Please! Bay Area is KQED's new local series featuring regular people reviewing Bay Area restaurants.

Visit the Check, Please! Bay Area blog to experience the restaurants from Episode 2:

1) The Lark Creek Inn: | restaurant information | reviews | recipe |

2) 1550 Hyde Cafe & Wine Bar: | restaurant information | reviews | recipe |

3) Everett & Jones Barbeque: | restaurant information | reviews |

The Check, Please! Bay Area photo gallery is up now -- view featured restaurant photos and some behind the scenes shots!

Mark Bittman is my kind of cookbook writer. He manages to take complicated recipes and make them simple. The other thing I appreciate about Bittman is that he is not a chef. While I love what restaurant chefs do, it does not always translate successfully to the home. Or the home cook.

Recently I was interviewed about a certain publication that refers to it's recipes as the best. I slammed them. How can there really be a "best"? I'm still not sure there is a best--but there are "best loved" recipes and the latest cookbook by Bittman, The Best Recipes in the World (more than 1000 recipes, $29.95) manages to capture a lot of them. This book is a great introduction to many wonderful cuisines around the world. Is it the definitive Italian cookbook, Mexican cookbook, Chinese cookbook? No. But it is an awfully good start.

Unlike some of his other books this one does assume a certain level of basic cooking knowledge. But for the advanced beginner none of the recipes should be too challenging. Some great features of this book include a guide to which recipes are "make ahead", can be served at room temperature or cold, or can be cooked in thirty minutes or less. There is also an index of recipes by cuisine in addition to the standard alphabetic one.

Criticisms? Not all the recipes get the names in the original language. I'm not sure why. A lack of photographs makes it hard to know what dishes should look like when completed, and very few illustrations demonstrate techniques. Other than that, this one's a keeper!

Here's a braised gingery peanut chicken recipe from the book for you to try:

Nketia Fla (Ghana)
Groundnut (Peanut) Stew with Chicken
Makes 4 servings
Time about 1 1/2 hours largely unattended

2 tablespoons corn, grapeseed or other neutral oil
8 chicken thighs, trimmed of excess fat
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 medium onion, chopped
One 1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1/2 teaspoon cayenne, or more to taste
1 1/2 cups chopped tomatoes (canned are fine)
1 quart chicken stock, preferably homemade
3/4 cup natural peanut butter, preferably chunky

1. Put the oil in a deep skillet over medium-high heat. When it shimmers, put chicken in the skillet, skin side down. Season with salt and pepper and brown well, rotating and turning them as necessary, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer the meat to a plate and drain all but two tablespoons of the fat.

2. Add the onion and ginger and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and fragrant, about 3 minutes. Stir in the cayenne and tomatoes and cook until the tomatoes have softened, about 5 minutes.

3. Return the chicken pieces to the casserole and add 3 1/2 cups of chicken stock. Bring to a boil then lower the heat and simmer until the chicken is cooked through and tender, 20 to 30 minutes.

4. Whisk or blend together the remaining chicken stock and the peanut butter; stir the mixture into the stew. Cook for another 20 minutes or so, then taste, adjust seasoning, and serve.

On a dark and stormy night...ok, well, blustery anyway, we were blown in to the warm glow of Canteen, an urban-retro diner the size of a small chihuahua (postage stamp was just too obvious). Nestled in the heart of the "Tendernob" and adjacent to the Commodore Hotel ("near the Red Room!" my uber-social friend Davina exclaimed), the tiny restaurant opened earlier this year to mouthwatering reviews.

This was my birthday surprise dinner, and it had topped my list for quite some time. So when we headed in that direction, and then circled the block a few times looking for parking, my excited anticipation grew to near-squealing point. We arrived a bit early for our reservation, but we were happily whisked into one of 4 cozy little booths lining the wall, opposite the counter seating and open kitchen.

Tucked into our booth, sipping a fabulous glass of Italian red "Gironia" from Montepulciano, we sat back and took in the decor as the restaurant began to fill up for the 7:30 seating. The curved lime-green Formica bar lined with vinyl-topped stools, the giant retro clock, and the quilted chrome bar wall and kitchen shelving gave the restaurant a decidedly 50s flair, but with an urban sensibility. Minimalist lighting, pine tabletops, bookshelves lining the booth wall, and a whimsical array of books added to the modern feel that I was having dinner at an underground restaurant located in someone's loft.

But really what we were there for was to sample chef and owner Dennis Leary's creative cuisine which I had heard so much about. Looking over the eclectic menu, we were intrigued by the choice but at a loss as to how to choose from the limited menu. Fortunately our enthusiastic waiter helped us navigate our way through first and main courses, and suggested we place our order in advance for the lemon souffle (I'm a sucker for anything lemon).

As with, in my personal opinion, any great chef who wants to lure you in, we started with a little amuse-bouche, a tiny token from the chef that makes you feel special and surprised, and also wakes up your palate for the dishes to come. In this case, it was a small shot glass filled with creamy spinach soup, both light and refreshing.

We opened the meal with a crisp salad of tender raw shaved artichokes, bitter endive, and parsley salad, tossed with chopped bresaola (of which I wished there was more), and topped with an egg-shaped nugget of fried anchovy butter. The fried butter, which fit in the category of "How'd he do that?!" oozed over the salad, creating a thick, creamy, pungent dressing. It was a bit heavy on the anchovy, but brilliant nonetheless.

This creative use of unexpected flavors and textures carried through in the main dishes and was most eloquently pulled off in the navarin of veal: fork-tender, melt-in-your-mouth chunks of veal bathed in a light, creamy, lemony sauce, set atop silky carrot puree. Crunchy chopped escarole and piquant red onions, strewn across the top of the stew, finished the dish. This was not at all a flavor combination that I would ever conceive of, but it was perfectly balanced and memorably delicious. (Wanting to try as much as possible, we often share dishes. Bad idea with this one. I wanted it all to myself, and though I was the birthday girl, even that couldn't save me from the navarin of veal duel.)

Our second dish, roasted rockfish, a meaty yet flaky white fish, was encrusted with toasty pepitas (crunchy green pumpkin seeds) and served alongside a smokey eggplant puree and raw tomato-fennel salad. The fish was superbly fresh and the flavors interesting, but the delicate flavor of the fish was slightly overwhelmed by the strong flavors of the pumpkin seeds and smokey eggplant.

We thought we were completely satiated, but our eyes brightened when the just-out-of-the-oven lemon souffle was whisked to our table like a whirling dervish. With a crisp caramelized top and a creamy center, the light and eggy souffle seemed to have everything going for it, but for me, it was overly sweet with a candy-like flavor.

Our second dessert, however, a pear clafoutis topped with a mound of fresh goat's cheese and drizzled with vanilla syrup brought me right back into Leary's world. Once again, the unexpected elements of the dish blew me away (oh look, we've come full circle). The puffed oven pancake was studded with tender bits of pear, it's delicate sweetness enhanced by the salty cheese and balanced with a drizzle of vanilla syrup. The perfect end to the meal.

But I think the cherry on top was when we turned to go, and the entire staff, including Leary, turned and waved goodbye, bidding us a lovely evening in the blustery San Francisco night. I know I'll be back and I can't wait to see what Leary comes up with next.

Canteen
817 Sutter Street (near Jones)
San Francisco, CA
(415) 928-8870

Open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
Reservations accepted for dinner only

The first time someone asked me what a persimmon tasted like I paused for a long time. "It tastes like a persimmon," was not going to do. I tried to run through all the fruits and vegetables I knew, but nothing seemed right.

"It tastes like sex." I finally replied.

I was speaking of the Hachiya variety, about a hundred of which lined every windowsill or counter top of my then large communal kitchen. I had just come from an afternoon of 'persimmon hunting' with my mother in East Oakland. This activity involved climbing up a moldy ladder and onto the corrugated roof of a neighboring garage. Completely unsure if this roof was stable, I climbed onto it; placing my lanky self inside one overgrown, fruit laden persimmon tree. My very short mother stood safely below where I tossed her the fruits I could reach.

Persimmon hunting doesn't require camouflage but you might want to wear clothes you would to Happy Hour in a college town. A very ripe persimmon is basically a thin skinned balloon filled with orange slime. Fun.

The persimmon tree is a gorgeous thing. Basically invisible until autumn, the leaves and the fruit are waxy green. The tree sets at the first frost; leaves and conical, round, flattened or almost cubical fruit turning yellow and fire orange, announcing themselves gorgeously loud. A quick drive through lush North Berkeley the other day was a veritable persimmon tree show.

But the persimmon is enigmatic. At The French Laundry we had a small tree near the wine room and one fateful November afternoon I had a quiet but heated fight with a pastry cook. "It's ripe," Matt insisted. "No it's not," I replied emphatically and authoritatively. We stood like this, locked in a kind of Ernie and Bert argument about perception and truth staring down at the silent fruit. Finally it came to me. I sliced the persimmon in quarters and handed him a partially opaque piece.

My very tall, earnest, East Coast assistant got that terrible look on his face. I knew what the unripe persimmon was doing to him. Horrendously tannic, the immature Hachiya, (conical), persimmon is not to be taken lightly. It will pull all the moisture out of your mouth and mess you up. And not look back.

"OK you're right, it's not ripe." He conceded, defeated.

When buying Hachiyas pick fruit whose hue is as shockingly orange as you can find. Black or brown spots are ok. Place them stem side down on a sunny or warm window sill until they are completely translucent, sagging and attracting fruit flies. Prep on a large cutting board, scraping with a spoon, or other dull object, the flesh away from delicate skin. Puree this pulpy mess in a blender briefly. Store in glass or non-reactive material and lay plastic wrap or parchment paper directly on the surface to minimize oxidation.

The other variety, Fuyu, is quickly gaining popularity, probably due both to its versatility and the Hachiya's perplexity. The Fuyu straddles the sweet and salty kitchen seamlessly. While it is still difficult to pin down the taste of the Hachiya, the Fuyu's flavor can best be described as tasting like the scent of a freshly cut squash, but very sweet. Trying them out for the first time, my friend Jessica remarked, "I'm looking for the acid, but there is none, it just tastes of sugar."

While the Hachiya must be almost liquid before eating, (think of them as a vehicle for pectin), the Fuyu can be eaten rock solid or any version of softness that comes after leaving them out at room temperature. They take any French knife cut, especially the ineffable brunoise. In other words, they're fun to play with.

Here are two simple persimmon recipes, one for each varietal.

Persimmon Pudding

1 cup sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup whole milk
1 egg
1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 cup Hachiya persimmon puree
1 splash vanilla extract
toasted walnuts (optional)
currants (optional)

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees F
2) Butter baking container thoroughly, apply parchment, flat, on the bottom
3) Sift sugar, flour, cinnamon and baking soda into a bowl, add salt and whisk
4) In another bowl whisk egg, persimmon puree, & vanilla extract until uniform
5) Create well in bowl of dries and pour in wets, mixing with whisk, wooden spoon or spatula. Right before mixture is uniform, stir in melted butter
6) Pour batter 3/4's of the way into the buttered container
7) Bake uncovered in a partial bain marie or on a baking sheet about 20 minutes
8) Pudding is done when middle is set and does not jiggle when tapped
The pudding will keep at room temperature for up to a week.
I like to serve it with cognac chantilly or vanilla ice cream.

Naked Salad

4 Fuyu persimmons
1 1/2 cups pomegranate seeds

1) Cut top out like a tomato. Slice bottom off, being careful not to take too much fruit
2) Peel persimmons, cut four pieces off core the way you might an apple
3) Dice persimmons into a shape slightly larger than the pomegranate seed
4) Mix pomegranate seeds and diced persimmon gently with a spatula
This salad will keep refrigerated for about three days but is best eaten fresh.

Dressed Salad
A vinaigrette made with a light vinegar such as Sherry, Champagne or white Balsamic and a buttery extra virgin olive or a nut oil would complement these fruits nicely
The options for green leafies are endless-- sauteed &/or fresh escarole, romaine, little gems, or any other chicories would create a bright, colorful and seasonal salad.

Few dishes elicit such a visceral reaction quite like a precariously towering, steaming soufflé puffed up in all it's glory. Upon placement, a purring of oooohs and ahhhhhhs commence, ending only when the last bite of these delectable clouds has been consumed. So why is it that something so physiologically powerful is so darn hard to make right and so easy to make wrong? A myriad of landmines are buried on the path to a perfect soufflé such as over beating the egg whites, letting the whipped egg whites stand too long, a too hot oven, a too cold oven, etc... which is why I don't venture down this road too often.

So from where did this enigma hail? No one can pinpoint a date or a person solely responsible though it is undeniably a French culinary invention and to say otherwise would incite nothing short of a revolution. Earliest mentions date back to the late 18th century where it was served at La Grande Taverne de Londres in Paris by Chef Beauvilliers whom Brillat-Savarin lauded as "...for more than fifteen years the most famous restaurateur in Paris." Pas mal (not bad)! Marie Antoine Carême describes the technique in great detail in his book, Patissier Royal Parisien. It seems that for nearly 200 years, cooks have been baffled by this collapsing conundrum.

Soufflé, from the verb souffler, which means "to blow up" or "puff up" is a rather accurate description of what happens to this combination of a base, usually of flavored cream sauce or purée which transports the flavor, and beaten egg whites which create the lift. So far, so good. I have a huge jar of passion fruit purée so I thought pourquoi pas (why not)? I adapted a recipe from Marcus Samuelson, chef at Aquavit in New York City. His recipe calls for the juice of one lime but my passion fruit purée is so tart that I made the executive decision to pass that item. Sorry, you can take the girl out of the Valley... Bon courage (good luck)!

Passion Fruit Soufflé

• 8 egg whites
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 tbsp water
• 1 vanilla bean, cut & scraped (I was out so I used 1 tsp vanilla extract)
• 1 cup passion fruit purée
• butter & sugar (for brushing on ramekins)

1. Preheat oven to 400° F.

2. Rub six ramekins with butter at room temperature and coat with sugar. Place in fridge until ready to fill.

Note: Take a pastry brush (I use a regular paint brush from the hardware store and run it through the dishwasher first) and brush up and down the sides like ChaChi in Karate Kid -- wax on wax off paint up paint down, I know I'm dating myself -- and coat with sugar. This technique is called chimiser (shi-mee-zay). This creates up and down ridges which helps the soufflé climb up the side of the dish. See Chef John, I was paying attention!

3. Bring water, vanilla bean and sugar to a boil.

4. Whisk egg whites with an electric mixer until soft peaks form.

5. Add in the sugar /water /vanilla liquid. Whisk again with a warm whisk until stiff peaks form.

6. Gently fold in passion fruit purée with a spatula.

7. Fill ramekins with the mixture and bake for 7-10 minutes based on your oven.

8. Remove gingerly from oven, carefully not to knock it against anything, and serve immediately.

9. Hear oooohs and ahhhhhs.

10. Eat.

If you have a hankering for a soufflé and happen to in my hood, an old Paris institution aptly named Le Soufflé is serving them for starter, main course and dessert with delicacies such as asparagus soufflé, chicken soufflé, seafood soufflé and one of the most mindblowing desserts I've ever had, the Grand Marnier soufflé. The waiter sets it in front of you for a moment so you can inhale the orange aroma wafting upward before plunging his spoon in a few times and dousing it with Grand Marnier. Le Oooh. Le Ahhh. Le Purrr.

______________________

Le Soufflé
36, rue du Mont Thabor
75001 Paris, France
+33 1 42 60 27 19
(M) #1, #12, #8 Concorde

KQED's new local program Check, Please! Bay Area premiered last night! The series will be aired Thursdays at 7:30pm and Saturdays at 1:30pm on KQED TV9. You will also be able to view it on Comcast On Demand and KQED 191 Life.

Every week, Check, Please! Bay Area features three guests who are local diners, not professional restaurant critics. Each guest chooses their favorite restaurant and the other two guests visit that restaurant under total anonymity -- the restaurants are not notified that Check, Please! "reviewers" are dining there. After trying each other's restaurant recommendations, the guests come on the show to discuss, dispute, and celebrate their dining experiences with lively commentary. The panel of diners is moderated by host Leslie Sbrocco, an award-winning author and wine connoisseur. At the end of the show, each restaurant is rated based on the panelists' comments.

The Check, Please! blog (kqed.org/checkplease) features restaurant information, recipes and guest reviews. Videos of each episode and a food photo gallery will soon be available.

This week's episode 1 reviewed: Old Krakow Polish Restaurant, Incanto and The Hard Knox Cafe. Please feel free to join the discussion by posting comments about the show and your reviews of the featured restaurants!

It's that time of year again. The leaves are changing, the apples are tasting crisp, tart, and Sierra-beautiful, the wine should be mulling, and SF Drake is in the hizzouse! God, I do love this cheese. In fact, I love this cheese so much I shouldn't even be writing about it because those limited-time-only rounds are mine. ALL MINE!

I have a particular soft, squishy, smelly spot for this cheese, because when I first started cheesemongering over a year ago, one of my initial jobs was to offer up tastes of the cheese to the passing public and give a little spiel: "This is Cowgirl Creamery's new cheese. It's a triple-cream, cow's milk cheese that has been washed in a sweet Provençal wine called Baume de Venise and aged with currants on top. Yes, it's made with organic milk and you should let it come to room temperature for at least an hour to appreciate the full-flavoredness of it." I don't even know if "flavoredness" is even a word and I suspect it isn't but I was a youngish cheesemonger at the time and eager and hyper and newly discovering the black beauties of Blue Bottle Coffee, so you'll have to just go with it.

Anyway, SF Drake is back. Urban legend has it that the creation of this buttery cheese was a happy accident. Much as Red Hawk was a happy accident of Mt. Tams getting wet and being saved by a saltwater brine, supposedly SF Drake was born out of Red Hawks getting even wetter and being saved by getting drunk. As many of us are.

This cheese is seductive and tangy and every time I open my fridge, I get a major whiff of stank. But in a good way. It spikes your tongue with intense flavor yet has a subtle underlying sweetness. I specifically broke out this cheese tonight because I wanted to see if it could stand up to Bonny Doon's Old Telegram 2003. Oh, it could. It could and it did. Old Telegram (I'm convinced that, in true Bonny Doon fashion, they are having their little fun with the Châteauneuf-du-Pape Vieux Télégraphe) is a gorgeous, earthy mourvèdre that is rife with deep, dark red fruit and even manages to ebb out the slightest hint of lavender. I'm buying a case of that little beauty. To go with my multiple cases of SF Drake.

You can find SF Drake in some grocery stores, but you'll probably get the best price at Cowgirl Creamery in the Ferry Building. Ask for me and I'll hook you up.

If I haven't already eaten all of them.

Title: Line cook, Bocadillos
Home town: Sacramento, CA

1. How did you get into cooking?
I was working at Starbucks when I was 17. One night I took home a cookbook and I cooked dinner for my roommates. I made potato salad, blueberry cornbread, and some kind of barbecued chicken. I remember the look on peoples faces and how it made me feel and that was how I realized I really enjoyed cooking.

After that I bought a lot of books and watched a lot of cooking shows, ate out a lot. Three years ago I graduated from culinary school.

2. What do you enjoy about being a line cook at Bocadillos?
I like the hours. The work changes quite a bit on a daily basis. I've been here about nine months and it's very fast paced. In the kitchen you build a strong bond working with people again and again in a stressful environment. It's very rewarding.

The Executive Chef and I have the same ideas, we both worked in fine dining. I like making great simple food. I want to make food that other chefs want to eat.

3. What misconceptions do people have about what you do?
People have no idea. People think we kind of sit back, just like cooking at home. We're some of the hardest working people in a restaurant. On a busy Saturday night I run from 2:30 until 11:30 at night, and I take home half of what the front of the house staff does.

4. Why are small plates so popular right now?
I look at a menu and I always want to try at least four or five things. Then no matter what I order, I always find myself wishing I ordered something else. With small plates you have the ability to try a few different things.

Small plate dining creates a less formal environment where you can share dishes. When you eat at a place like Bocadillos there's a lot more flexibility. If you want to have a bottle of wine and a snack before a movie you could do that or if you want to have five or six plates and stay for a couple hours you can do that too.

5. Where do you like to eat out?
The places I like to eat at and where I can afford to eat are two different things! If money was no object I would particularly like to eat at Manresa and the French Laundry of course. On an everyday basis I like House of Nanking, cheap Vietnamese places such as Tu Lan. In North Beach I like Giordano Bros where they put coleslaw and fries on the sandwiches. In the lower Haight on Tuesdays Rosamunde sells a burger. I swear it's one of the best hamburgers I've had ever. People line up for it.

I have always respected Mariquita Farm for their sense of community and their use of direct fundraising to help that community when possible. Last year, I wrote about an event that Andy and Julia of Mariquita held at their farm when one of their employees was in a car accident.

After Hurricane Rita this year, Andy and Julia saw another need that they could fulfill, and went to work doing so. Instead of holding an event to give money to the Red Cross or another big organization, Julia contacted Slow Food Louisiana and was connected with Taylor's Happy Oaks, a Louisiana farm that is a lot like Mariquita and that had been hurt in the hurricane.

Combine Mariquita's produce and goats with chef Anne Gingrass and her restaurant Desiree, and a fundraising event was created. Last Friday night, a dinner cost of $45 was admittance to a wonderful dinner at Desiree Cafe in the Presidio.

Potato and caviar puree with cucumbers and flat bread
Pimientos de Padron sauteed in olive oil
Lemon and egg soup
Eggplant and feta cheese salad with paprika and cilantro vinaigrette
Roast goat with green olives and buttered Israeli couscous
Baklava with frozen honey yogurt

The dinner was held in two seatings, and the 8.30 seating ran a bit late. We were all happy to see the appetizers -- potato and caviar puree made of whitefish caviar, grated potato, and topped with tobiko, pimientos de padron sauteed in olive oil, flat bread, and marinated cucumbers. The potato puree proved to be one of my favorites of the evening, and combined with the flat bread it was consumed quickly. There was plenty of food to go round, and the dinner was served family style.

Mariquita Farm raises goats and provided several for this dinner. While they don't do anything with the goats that technically makes money, they are an important part of the farm environment. They are natural weed eaters, and have the added benefit of being given as gifts to farm workers for special events, and for being provided for fundraisers such as this. Chef Gingrass prepared the goat with a smashed olive and garlic sauce, and surrounded it with olives and cherry tomatoes.

By the time dessert arrived, we were full up, but we all managed to taste the baklava and the luscious frozen honey yogurt. The baklava had a wonderful citrus taste to it. I ended up taking it home and it proved to be a delicious breakfast the next day.

This dinner was the second in a series of family-style dinners that Chef Gingrass hopes to have at Desiree. Not all will be fundraising events, and they will be an opportunity to have dinner at a restaurant that has a cult-like following for their lunches and breakfasts. The next dinner will be in the middle of November, and will most likely feature a whole slow cooked pig, cooked in a wooden box that is specially created for such a purpose. If you are interested, contact Desiree Cafe directly.

You can visit Mariquita's Farm booth on Saturdays at the Ferry Plaza Farmer's Market, or via their website.