Since I always start my posts with a warning, here goes: Don't read this if you have an aversion to Sarah Silverman or food that resembles body parts or if you worship the ground that Martha Stewart stencils.

I mean it. Move along now.

Okay, for those of you who can hack it, my assignment for this Halloween was to write again about scary food, this time with the political incorrectness on the side. (It turns out that political incorrectness is not only very high in calories, but it's also raised on corn in Burma and slaughtered by four-year-old orphans who have flies in their eyes and harelips and call out, "Angie! Angie!" during the two hours of sleep they get a night.)

Whoops.

Anyway, let's start with a definition.

Scary [skair-ee] Adjective, scarier, scariest
1. Ridiculous
2. Tacky
3. Of or pertaining to Martha Stewart

Let's start with the "Ghoulish Petit Fours."

So, I just watched the Sarah Silverman Show last night, and these little numbers bring to mind a song she sang called "What happened to the white dog poop from the Seventies," which I thought raised a very legitimate question. (Attempts at answers located here, though I tend to think the most likely culprit is CORN and no one says so expressly. Get Michael Pollan on that immediately, dammit.)

Anyway, as usual, I digress. In short, Martha's Ghoulish Petit Fours made me thankful that poo doesn't smile at you. (But what if it did?) Then I realized that it's unclear if the lower dot on the Martha ghouls is supposed to be a mouth or a nose, which led me down the path of imagining some poor lackey at Martha HQ making these things and getting the face wrong the first time and getting strangled with the licorice "lace" that supposed to go around the base of the witches' hats.

(Note, never accuse Martha of not recycling a great idea, as with these Mashed Boo-tatoes.)

Moving on, let's take a look at I Scream Sandwiches. The salient quote? "For neat rounds of ice cream, snip away the carton with scissors, cut ice cream into 3/4-inch-thick slices, and make shapes with a 2 1/2-inch cookie cutter."

Shoot me now.

And now, the Martha piece de resistance:

Ladies' Fingers and Mens' Toes, which the site calls "ghoulishly good", a term that made me wonder just how much crack Martha's editors smoke to get through the day. At first I thought these atrocities were pastries of some sort, but they are in fact pretzels. Pretzels with almonds? Martha, c'mon.

The part I liked the most about this recipe was the implied part: Notice that the last ingredient listed is "fried rosemary (optional, for toes)". Not fingers, mind, just toes. Toe hair.

Good grief.

Before I wrap up Martha bashing, I did want to bring your attention to something else I found on Martha's site, which while not food that can be eaten, I hope still qualifies to be on BAB.

Behold the lobster baby costume.

Who would do this to their child? Notice how it looks like either a) the lobster is pooping the child (so sorry, I'm channeling Sarah Silverman today), b) the lobster is giving birth to the child (at least it's not breach), or c) the lobster and the baby are inter-species conjoined twins and appear to share a rectum. And note the evidence, yet again, of Martha's editors smoking crack! "In the end, any costume you design will be memorable and guaranteed to be loved by your friends, family, and, of course, baby!" (My italics.) Since when do babies that age love anything but boob and Teletubbies?

Okay, I'm done with Martha, but lest you think I'm a horrid bundle of vitriol who deserves to be bound with licorice, gagged with hairy man's toe, and tarred and feathered with a hot glue gun, let me leave you with two videos of Halloween recipes that didn't make me want to slit my wrists.

Behold British mini-Martha, whose name is apparently Tilly. (Tilly! Tilly! And don't you just want to eat up her accent?) I played this three times just for the sheer joy of hearing the mysterious braceleted Tilly say "lolly sticks."

And now meet Pink of Perfection's pumpkin soup, which is easy and I bet scrumptious. Oh, and I like her dress. "Her" being Sarah McColl, winsome talent/Juliet Binoche lookalike behind Pink of Perfection, "the thrifty girl's guide to la dolce vita."

Something tells me Ms. McColl would be great fun to go lingerie shopping with, then afterwards you'd stop by some chic tiny little restaurant at 3pm and wind up there until 6:30 when people start coming in for their dinner reservations and you've drunk four glasses of Beaujolais and have a horrid case of the giggles and start laughing about your vibrators and the bartender -- who is very cute and you have been flirting with -- has to cut you off.

So much more fun than Martha.

When two longtime friends decided to come to San Francisco for the weekend, the first thing I did was plan our meals. I had approximately a day and a half with them, and I wanted their food experiences to be memorable. I had an added benefit of knowing my audience very well and being able to customize the trip to their taste.

When I first heard they were coming, I made back-up dinner reservations at A16 and The Slanted Door. In the end, however, I ended up scrapping both of those reservations (and calling to cancel!) a few days before my friends came. The weekend came together very nicely and we went to the following places:

SPQR. My love for this new restaurant has already been documented, and I've been back three times since that initial report. This trip was fun, as I got to watch Anna as she tasted beets with ricotta, chanterelles and sunchokes, and the panino dessert -- which was groan-causingly good.

The Alembic. After dinner, we cabbed it over to The Alembic so that Anna could share in my love of this wonderful bar. I've been talking up the emphasis on amazing mixology that has been happening in San Francisco, and the Alembic is the perfect example of this. My fellow bloggers agree -- the Alembic is a destination bar.

Saturday morning, Amanda arrived and it was off to ... where else?

The Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market. A must stop for any visitor staying at my house. When we were through, we met up with a couple friends for wine. The Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant was busy, so we lounged in the Slanted Bar lounge very comfortably for a couple of hours. On Saturday afternoons, there is not table service in the lounge until 2 pm (though you can eat at the bar). No bother, we ordered bottles of wine at the bar and by the time table service arrived, we ordered some delicious SD snacks. My friends had a good time wandering the Ferry Building afterward. Anna bought a lot of cheese to take home with the help of our favorite cheese expert.

Then it was home to rest before heading off ...

To Bodega Bistro. This was the dinner originally planned as The Slanted Door. But the girls were insistent that they wanted to experience San Francisco the way that I usually live it. And the truth is that you are much more apt to find me at Bodega Bistro than The Slanted Door. Bodega is known for some of the best Vietnamese food in the city, and the Cha Ca Hanoi there -- a dish of fish with dill and spices and peanuts -- is more to my taste than the Cha Ca Hanoi that I ate in the most famous place in Hanoi.

Happily, the Bodega Bistro dinner went over very well and we went home full and sated. The weekend was a great mix of different bites, tastes and meals and both Anna and Amanda are talking about the trip weeks later.

Last month, Catherine posted her recommendation list for visitors which I will likely refer to in the future. And a while back, Michael posted his visitor list.

I am not a fan of smoked cheese. I don't like smoked provolone, smoked cheddar is just unnecessary, and I gag over the weird yellow dappling that smoking mozzarella brings about. Therefore, I didn't expect to like Elk Creamery's Smoked Chèvre. But I bought it anyway. I have an open mind and an open palate, and I was intrigued by this fairly new (to me) offering from the Mendocino-based cheesemakers.

Smoked with organic alderwood and applewood on the Elk Creamery goat farm, the cheese smells like an entire side of St. Louis ribs AND a safely contained Brownie campfire. I had absolutely no desire to eat this tangy, smoky cheese raw, on crackers or on anything else, but my esteemed colleague, Head Cheese, brilliantly suggested I find some way of cooking with it. Pizza seemed to be the answer. A vegetarian pizza, to be precise; no need for any meats to add to the rich flavors the smoke was already bringing to the party.

After grabbing some Trader Joe's whole wheat ready-to-roll-and-bake pizza dough, a couple of veggies, and sloshing up some roasted tomato sauce, I was ready to build my pizza. The result was surprising. I was fully expecting to hate the cheese even in this iteration, but the combination of the spicy tomato sauce, the sweetly caramelized fennel, and the woodsy asparagus all managed, not to repel the smoked chévre, but to embrace it and welcome it into the pizza as just another flavorful topping.

2 heads of fennel
3-4 olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 recipe pizza dough
1 cup tomato sauce, bought or homemade and cooled
1/3 cup slivered asparagus
1 ounce Elk Creamery Smoked Chèvre, chilled

1. Preheat your oven to 475°. Slice the fennel thinly and place it in a large roasting pan. Toss the slivers with the olive oil, salt, and pepper and roast until slightly caramelized for about 10 minutes. Set aside.

2. Flour a pizza peel and douse it with a handful of cornmeal. The cornmeal will act as ball bearings when you slide your pizza into the oven. Roll the dough into a 12-inch round and ladle on the tomato sauce. Spread it evenly around the dough and evenly distribute the roasted fennel slivers and asparagus on top of the sauce.

3. Using a vegetable peeler, shave thin curls of Elk Creamery Smoked Chèvre over the pizza. Slide the pizza into the oven -- preferably on a heated pizza stone -- and bake for 10-12 minutes.

Gourmet magazine recently picked their top cookbooks for 2007. I agreed with some of their picks, but not all of them. One book that was missing from the list was Cook with Jamie. If you are a Jamie Oliver fan, and I admit I am, this book is a must. But if even if you're not, this book is really worthwhile and very different from other cookbooks on the market. Subtitled "My guide to making you a better cook" it's filled with all the little secrets that chefs learn in the kitchen.

So what kind of secrets are revealed? How to perfectly dress a salad so there is just the right amount of dressing, how to make really good schnitzel (a recipe taught to him by David Bouley), a technique for knowing when fish is cooked through that doesn't involve breaking it apart, how to pick leeks in the market, how to properly store things in the freezer. I could go on and on.

In addition to all the tips and techniques, explained in the typically "easy-peasy" Jamie Oliver manner, there are the recipes. The thing I like about Jamie Oliver recipes is that they each seem to have that added element that elevates them into something special. It might be an extra sauce, or topping of crispy herbs or even an unexpected ingredient. There are 160 recipes that range from Ultimate Rib of Beef with Rosemary and Garlic Potatoes to Slow Roasted Pork Belly with the Sweetest Braised Fennel to Roasted Baby Leeks with Thyme. If you are like me, these are recipes you will want to cook. At just under $25 on Amazon, I highly recommend this book.

MAPPING TACO TRUCKS

The next time that craving for carne asada hits, check out this new taco truck map for the nearest snack stop near you. It's only a couple of days old, and already, the entire state of California is dotted with promising forks-and-spoons. Help the cause and add your own favorite source for tacos. Then, print out a map of a neighborhood near you and venture forth!

KOREAN BBQ TRUCK

For another take on ambulatory eating, keep an eye out for Seoul on Wheels. I first spotted Julia, a friendly princess hailing from "the Province of Yummi," parked near my office in SoMa earlier this summer and, hardly believing the words splashed across her sparkling truck, crossed four lanes of rush hour traffic to see for myself.

Eating the spicy pork later (she starts selling at 6:45 am!) I'd have to say that first rice bowl wasn't the best I've had. But she's been tweaking her recipes, and the long lines now at lunch time attest to a faithful, hungry, and patient following. Her generous servings of kimchee fried rice will keep you alert through the afternoon doldrums; just be sure you have plenty of mints in your desk drawer. Seoul on Wheels' no-nonsense website lists its regular parking locations and times. If you work or play south of Market, it's definitely worth a bite.

In case you didn't know, yesterday marked the 14th anniversary of Vincent Price's death. I hope everyone took a little time out of their busy schedules to remember him. Since this post falls conveniently between his death day and Halloween, there is no other possible topic for discussion, as far as I am concerned.

As a poster child for classic American horror films, one might expect Vincent Price to have had more blood in his food than the other way around, but I assure you that is quite untrue. His father, Vincent Leonard Price, founded the National Candy Company, which did not, as I had previously thought, invent wax lips (that honor goes to the American Candy Company). I was crushed to learn that Mr. Price was not, in fact, a scion of the House of Wax Lips. I realize it's a horrible joke, but it's early and I'm just having my coffee.

Price was, however, the grandson of Dr. Vincent Clarence Price, creator of the first commercially manufactured baking powder in the United States, which must count for something.

Though most famous for his roles in horror films, Price was a well-known art collector and gourmet. A Yale graduate with a degree in Art History, he appeared on the $64,000 Question as an "expert" contestant in the same category (He won half that amount), and was an avid collector and promoter of art, founding the Vincent Price Art Museum at East Los Angeles College in 1958-- the first "teaching art collection" owned by a community college.

As a gourmet, Price made his rounds on the talk show circuit in the 1960's and 70's, once chatting up Johnny Carson while demonstrating how to poach a fish in a dishwasher. (Note: I gleaned that information from wikipedia, so I hope it's true. Please do not suggest I punch myself in the face again). If any one happens to own that clip, I'd give anything to see it. The man had an odd sense of humor.

On a slightly more serious food note, Price and his second wife Mary produced a small number of cookbooks, one of which, I have in my own collection.

I found Come into the Kitchen quite by accident as I spent a lazy afternoon browsing The Abandoned Planet Bookstore on Valencia Street with a friend. At the time, I had no idea Mr. Price was an avid cook. As a lover of kitsch cookbooks, I immediately bought it without much reading it, simply noting the rather odd style and choice of illustration, as seen below...

When I got it home, I found that this book-- which is as old as I am-- was filled with bits of odd information, like the facsimile of the "Public Dinner Given to the Honorable James K. Polk" at the St Louis Hotel dated March 22nd, 1849. Given the expanse of the eleven course dinner created in his honor, I am not at all surprised that, weakened by diarrhea and severe intestinal cramps, Polk succumbed to an outbreak of cholera a few weeks later. No. that is not mentioned in the book.

What is in the book, odd tidbits aside, is a collection of American recipes, collected at a time when American food was not fashionable among "foodies". Fish balls a la Mrs. Benjamin Harrison is a favorite and one I shall be making in honor of our next inauguration. Check it out, if you are so inclined. It's worth it.

That's it for this week. I leave you with a clip from the film Theater of Blood, which I think perfectly combines Price's status as a horror film icon, his love of food, and his famously dark sense of humor.

Warning: This clip, though amusing, is rather violent, but not in a blood-and-gut-spewing way. If you are the queasy sort, or can't stomach the thought of anyone hurting puppies, do not view.

What is the most decadent dessert you can think of? For me, and my childhood memories of trips to Wolfie's in Miami Beach, Florida, it's a tall ice cream sundae or a giant banana split, with no less than 2 scoops of ice cream, rivers of hot fudge, and a mountain of whipped cream (hold the formaldehyde-soaked cherry please!).

Recently, using my birthday as the perfect excuse, I decided that I deserved something a bit over-the-top (and perhaps I was paying homage to that big-eyed childhood excitement of ordering the most decadent thing on the menu). Luckily for me, I've managed to position my home within walking distance of the Bi-Rite Creamery in San Francisco. What I consider, hands-down, to the be the best ice creamery in the Bay Area, and located on, in my humble opinion, the most amazing culinary street in the Bay Area (home to Delfina, Delfina Pizzeria, Tartine, and the Bi-Rite Store).

Before I get into the ooey gooey goodness of my birthday treat, let me describe the Bi-Rite Creamery for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of sampling this year-old ice cream shop's creamy delights. On any warm day, and especially on a rare warm night, you can be sure the creamery will be packed, a long giggling line snaking down the block, chock full of families and young hipsters, folks from the neighborhood and those who've traveled across the city. All there just to get a taste of the artisanal, seasonal flavors that go into Bi-Rite's ever-changing ice cream menu.

Salted caramel.
Honey lavender.
Creme fraiche.
Chai spiced milk chocolate.
Double ginger.
Balsamic strawberry.
Roasted banana.
Luscious lemon. (ok I added the luscious)

Maybe some of the flavors sound out there. But they also have The Best-Ever Yummiest Vanilla Ice Cream. (no really, I swear, that's the title). And Super-Extra Bittersweet Rich Dark Chocolate. And on a recent trip, one of my all-time faves, Rocky Road. Granted it was made with homemade marshmallows and marcona almonds, but it was the best damn Rocky Road that I've ever put in my mouth.

Anyway, I had determined, at least for me, that the banana split was their most decadent item. Don't get me wrong, there's plenty of decadence at Bi-Rite Creamery. They have an entire sundae menu. Hell, they have a s'more pie! But their incredible version of this old-school treat had me wide-eyed and feeling naughty.

They start with two giant scoops (or was that four scoops?) of ice cream, your choice. I chose creamy dreamy vanilla and salted caramel. (Ok, before you say "ick" for those of you who haven't tried it, salted caramel is by far my favorite flavor, with it's intense flavor and almost fluffy melty texture. It's not for the timid--it is sophisticated, rich, intense, and yes, decadent.)

The ice cream is drizzled with bittersweet warm chocolate, and then the blow torch comes out. Seriously.

They split the banana, sprinkle it with brown sugar, and fire it up until it's crisp and caramelized. Nestled on top of the ice cream, my perfect banana split is then topped with freshly whipped cream and a handful of caramelized toasted walnuts (I opted out of this last embellishment as I'm allergic to walnuts).

Mmmmmmm. Heaven. I have to admit though, I did have to split my split. But it was all I could do not to lick the bowl when we were finished. I can't wait until my birthday next year. I think I might make this a tradition.

Bi-Rite Creamery
3692 18th Street (between Dolores and Guerrero)
San Francisco, CA 94110
415.626.5600

The San Francisco Zen Center is a rich part of this city's history. With their City Center on Page at Laguna, the Green Gulch Farm Center in Marin, and the Zen Center at Tassajara, the Zen Center has helped thousands of visitors further their Zen practice. In addition to meditation, the Zen Center has a large focus on food with organic farming at Green Gulch Farm and the successful creation of Greens Restaurant at Fort Mason, which has been a premier vegetarian restaurant in San Francisco for over 25 years. Home bakers will be familiar with the Zen Center due to their publication, in 1970, of The Tassajara Bread Book.

Ed Brown, the author of that book, is the subject of a new movie, How to Cook Your Life. Brown is an ordained Zen priest who was Tenzo, or head cook, at the Tassajara Zen Mountain Center. But this is not your ordinary Zen priest -- Brown is tempermental, goofy, and altogether human. "You get to watch me being me. Oh well." Brown said at the San Francisco preview of the movie last night.

How to Cook Your Life is a documentary that uses Brown to explain how integral food is to the guiding principles of Zen Buddhism, and how we can all go about using these principles in the way that we approach cooking. "When you cut the carrots, cut the carrots," Brown says. In this world of media overload and processed foods and going through the motions in the kitchen, Brown asks us to stop and pay attention to what we are doing. "People ask me, 'How are you doing'," said a baker in the Tassajara kitchen. "I say, 'I'm baking.' It's what I'm doing and how I'm doing, through and through."

But it's not all roses and meditation. In the movie, we watch Brown struggle to rip into a store-bought package of cheese, raging the entire time about why a company would choose to subject consumers to such awful packaging. We watch him try to contain his temper through breathing after almost exploding at a student to be quicker about adding an ingredient to a soup. This humanness makes Brown all the more relatable, as he comes across as one of us.

This movie really resonated with me. I find peace when I am cooking, and I am able to ground myself in the kitchen more than anywhere else. And that's what this movie is about -- the essential place that the kitchen holds in many of our lives.

How to Cook Your Life is beginning Friday at several Landmark Theatres throughout the Bay Area. It will open in more cities in the coming month.

Here is the preview:

Tonight from 6:30pm to 10pm is the 1st Annual San Francisco WhiskyFest at the Hyatt Regency San Francisco. The event is sponsored by Malt Advocate magazine and will feature samplings of over 250 of the world's finest single malt and blended Scotch whiskies, quality Irish whiskies, the best bourbons and Tennessee whiskies, Japanese, Welsh, Canadian and other rare and unreleased whiskies of the world.

With a focus on whisky education, master distillers and experts from all over the world will be presenting (and pouring!). There will even be a chocolate/whisky tasting hosted by local John Scharffenberger, President of Scharffen Berger Chocolate.

While the WhiskyFest website claims the event is sold out, Kim Laidlaw got her tickets early and will be reviewing the event on BAB next week. Check back for her musings from the whisky-soaked field.

Comfort food is different for every person. It might be your mother's meatloaf, a bowl of butter-padded mashed potatoes, or a vat of chicken soup. Personally, I never thought I'd be looking to a New Mexican restaurant as my comfort food source, but that's exact what Green Chile Kitchen has come to mean for me.

Working on a KQED cooking show has meant that my past week was filled with twelve hour days where I rarely sit down, lots of running, and lots of food. The sad thing is, I didn't want to eat that food. It's no reflection on the chef, mind you, but it's long been a foible of mine that if I cook something all day, I completely lose my appetite for it.

There have been two constants of comfort during this past week of twelve hour days: my husband and Green Chile Kitchen. Green Chile Kitchen moved into the vacated Baker/Fulton corner nearly two years ago and while we have been fairly frequent patrons, I have never written about it.

They have a fresh greens salad to which you are allowed to add five additions from all manner of fresh ingredients. You can also choose to add applewood smoked bacon, avocado, and Fulton Valley chicken breast. I've actually developed my own salad mix that I consider to be the ultimate order. Aside from the greens I request walnuts, blue cheese, red onion, corn, and for my fifth choice, I just get more corn. When I'm really hungry, I'll add chicken breast and avocado to the salad.

When it comes to salad dressing, I'm a purist. I make my own and there are only certain restaurants I trust to get it right. Zuni, Suppenkuche, and Chez Panisse get it right, but a lot of other places don't. It's either bottled or delivered on the side, and on the side just doesn't cut it with me. I mean, unless you're going to bring out a big ol' bowl along with the "on the side" that allows me to slap everything with an even, glistening coat, don't bother. Green Chile Kitchen gets it right. Their balsamic vinaigrette, chipotle lime vinaigrette, citrus vinaigrette, and green chile buttermilk are all made from scratch and they toss the dressing for you. There's no need to dump the dressing on, seal up the box, and shake your foodie, praying that oily droplets don't spew everywhere.

So yeah, I love their organic green salad. I also love their burritos, and their guacamole has recently been made amazing by the piquant addition of chiles. Finally, their green chile stew -- veg or fully meaty with slow-roasted Niman Ranch pork -- is something to tuck your body into on a cold autumn night.

But lately, a side order of their rice and pinto beans is all I need to sustain me during these trying weeks, and it's also about all I have time to shove into my mouth before collapsing, insensible, into bed.

Over this past weekend, where I did little else but sleep and brunch with friends, the thought of being back in my kitchen didn't repulse me, as much as it made me narcoleptic every time I set foot in it. Food was needed. Outside food. Comfort food. Once again, Green Chile Kitchen via my husband came to my rescue. 1/4 of a citrus-herb roasted chicken -- all juicy white meat -- some roasted potatoes, a warm, soft, folded tortilla with fire-roasted salsa, and a glass of Geyser Peak Merlot from Trader Joe's was all my exhausted soul needed to regenerate.

A few quibbles: their overly complicated menu, riddled with so many choices of sides and accompaniments, confuses both the order takers and the order fulfillers, not to mention the patrons. They could also do with another register. While you can stake out the dark wood booths and eat in the welcoming cafe area, we're only three blocks away, so we mostly do pick up. Unfortunately, with one line and one register for everyone, it means if you've placed your order over the phone, you are often standing in a long line with people who haven't placed their order, don't know what they want, and waste your already-packed order's precious heat by browsing the menu and asking lots of questions. Not that I begrudge them the time to make up their minds, mind you, it's just that two lines -- one for pick-ups and one for everyone else -- would make so much more sense.

Green Chile Kitchen
601 Baker (at Fulton)
San Francisco, CA 94117

415.614.9411