The Culinary Institute of America recently published the third edition of Techniques of Healthy Cooking. It's a massive tome, almost 600 pages long and provides a broad overview of nutritional basics such as current dietary guidelines, recipes planning, and recommendations for minimizing fat, salt, sugar and even alcohol in recipes. There are nearly 150 photographs and over 400 recipes, which yield between ten and twenty servings.

Not only is this a book for professional chefs but the recipes sound more like what you might find in a restaurant than a hospital dining room. Some examples include Grilled Veal with Blackberries and Vanilla, Rabbit and Oyster Etouffee, Duck Breast Crepinette, and Strawberry and Rhubarb Strudel. You can see excerpts from the book here.

I was curious how a culinary school might address nutrition, so I got in touch with Certified Executive Chef Eve Felder, Associate Dean for Culinary Arts at The Culinary Institute of America.

Felder has been a chef at Chez Panisse Cafe in Berkeley and has held just about every other role in the kitchen from Pastry Line Cook at the Quilted Giraffe in New York to Executive Chef at V. Mertz Restaurant in Omaha, Nebraska. She has traveled throughout Europe, the Far East, and North Africa studying the historical connection between the culinary traditions and agricultural practices of different cultures. She also won the first ever educator of the year award from Women Chefs and Restauranteurs, just last year.

Are healthy cooking techniques generally part of a CIA education?
Yes, The Culinary Institute of America approaches healthy food from various perspectives. The first is from the standpoint of ingredients. Are the ingredients sound? Are they seasonal? Have they been treated with care in terms of growing, receiving  and preparing them for a meal.

The second is from the perspective of deliciousness. What do we do to ensure that a meal is delicious and healthy? What techniques can we use in cooking to enhance flavor? What ingredients from the global pantry are healthy and at the same time delicious?

Third, what is the responsibility, as a professional in the food service industry, to provide food that is healthy and good for you? This is much more of a philosophical discussion that we address not only in the college's kitchen and bakeshop classes but in our academic classes as well. Students at the CIA will ultimately be the leaders of the food service industry need to think about their social responsibilities.

What prompted the CIA to revise this book now?
The college's commitment to leading and providing the industry with a text that will elevate the way in which we think about food.

How is this book different from all the other healthy eating books out in the market?
All of The Culinary Institute of America's texts are written to address the needs of the chef, maitre d' and leaders in the foodservice business. The CIA's audience is not only the professional, but also food afficionados who have a curiosity that goes beyond simple recipes.

Chefs don't often have the healthiest diet, in part because of their career. Any tips specifically for chefs trying to live a more healthy lifestyle?
Come to the CIA! We not only address healthy cuisine in our curriculum but have a 52,000-square-foot recreation center.

Seriously, there are health liabilities to being a chef and it is vitally important that we embrace a balanced life that includes a commitment to exercising, reasonable work hours, and being aware of the long term consequences of eating poorly. Eating healthy is part of the discipline of cooking.

Usually, people have come to cooking because they have a passion for sharing the table and food. Once we've become a chef we have to reach back to what it means to sit down, enjoy a meal and enjoy the company of people.

Grace Cathedral is the eponymous "cathedral on a hill" in San Francisco. It's located on Nob Hill, and many of us have been there to see the beautiful Keith Haring altar at the AIDS Chapel, or to walk the labyrinth inside the church.

What I didn't know until recently is that Grace Cathedral hosts a Forum program each week before the Sunday service, and that the program is often focused on current news makers or people of interest.

The Forum, which is available in a podcast archive, often focuses on food issues and I have enjoyed the past season of speakers for that reason. It's a worthwhile podcast to subscribe to even if you pick and choose which speakers pertain to your interests.

In October, I went to Grace Cathedral to hear Dr. Jane Goodall speak. While Goodall is known foremost as a champion of animals and a teacher of the ways of primates, she is also an advocate for conscious eating and published a book called Harvest for Hope: A Guide to Mindful Eating. At the Forum, Dr. Goodall spoke to the importance of food choices in the overall health of the planet, and I found her message challenging and inspiring at the same time. Dr. Goodall implored the audience to become vegetarian or at least eat free-range meat, saying "It's not widely known the extent to which the intensive farming of animals is damaging the environment. People don't want to know about the suffering and the cruelty that goes on within the intensive farms. "

A month or two later, Mollie Katzen visited the Forum. Katzen is the author of the Moosewood Cookbook and one of the founders of the Moosewood Restaurant in Ithaca, New York. She writes about vegetarian cooking and is credited with helping make vegetarianism a mainstream eating practice. Her interview was compelling due to her ties to the Bay Area, and the fact that she's a great speaker. Surprisingly, Katzen is not a strict vegetarian. She eats some meat, but her cooking is inspired by a fierce love for all things vegetable.

Last week, Michael Pollan visited The Forum. He is currently on book tour for his new book, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto. This was an informative hour, and it serves as an excellent overview of his book and his outlook on eating.

As an aside, my friend and colleague Bonnie Powell of Ethicurean will be interviewing Michael Pollan in a Slow Food event in Vacaville on February 7. You can find more information on the Ethicurean site.

The Grace Cathedral Forum schedule can be found on the cathedral website. You can attend the forum sessions in person for free on Sundays or can download them from the Internet. You can also listen over the Internet in real-time and email your questions to the moderator.

The Forum with Jane Goodall
The Forum with Mollie Katzen
the Forum with Michael Pollan

As hard as I try to be a good diner, I try even harder to be a good customer. At my preferred grocery store, I wait my turn at the fish counter -- often giving way to customers who were definitely there after me -- I never go in the express lane with more than twelve items, and I have no problem bagging my own groceries if help isn't available.

However, I have come slap up against a quandary to which I see no obvious solution: dropped produce. As in, what the heck do you do when you accidentally knock or drop fruits or vegetables to the floor? Look, it happens. It might happen more often to me, because I'm a slight klutz, but I'm sure it happens to everyone. So, what do you do? If you're like me, you walk around with a dropped Brussels sprout clutched in your hand until you can finally bin it in the parking lot. Other times when the odd lime has bounced down as I was reaching for the grapefruits above it, I've nudged it out of the way of foot traffic and guiltily gone about my business.

Do you put the mushroom, avocado, orange, or whatever back on top of the pyramid of produce for some other unsuspecting customer to buy? Gross.

Do you leave it where it lies, passively expecting the produce guys and gals to clean up after you? Ech, I don't want to do that -- it's so rude and lazy.

Do you throw it out? Maybe, if there's an obvious garbage can for that purpose. But what if there isn't? Also, where do you draw the line? Because frankly, I don't know how I feel about trashing bigger things like oranges, avocados, or snowy heads of cauliflower.

Anxious to get to the bottom of this customer conundrum, I called around to a few discerning grocery stores in the Bay Area who stock high quality produce and carry an extensive, if not exclusive, organic produce selection.

Produce Guy #1

Him: "Throw it away."

Me: "Even if there aren't any trash cans?"

Him: "There are always trash cans."

Produce Guy #2

"Put it back. Unless it's organic or wet -- then you should give it to someone here to wash and they will put it back."

Produce Guy #3

"Don't put it back on the stand. Just tell one of the produce guys -- or anyone in the store, actually -- and they'll take care of it for you."

Produce Guy #4

Him: "PICK IT UP!"

Me: "Really? To leave for some other customer to come along and..."

Him: "Yeah! You should be WASHING it all anyway! All your meats, seafood, fruit, and vegetables -- EVERYTHING should be washed!"

Well, okay then! If I wasn't doing it before, I'll certainly be washing my stuff to excess now.

Overall, I didn't get much of a consensus -- what do you think customers should do?

On display through the wonderful internets are hundreds upon thousands of photographs of everyday lunches. No soggy PB&J's here, though. One forum, the Mr. Bento Porn Flickr group, posts their collective creative efforts to make mid-day meals visually appealing, healthful, delicious and, yes, a little easier on the wallet. Their cousin site, Diet Bento, includes impressively low calorie counts for those whose 2008 resolutions (for now at least) include trimming down a little of their own belly fat.

Portable meals have been with us for as long as farmers have trudged off to their fields and soldiers have marched on in war. The Japanese took it a little further, of course. Where other countries preferred banana leaves or woven baskets, Japanese al fresco diners preferred compartmentalized boxes. By the 17th century, bento meals became elaborately arranged celebrations of the full moon and cherry blossoms, a leisurely way to enjoy intermission with friends at the theatre or, like the older form of sushi, essential food for travelers in an age before planes and bullet trains.

Fast forward to the 20th century for aluminum tins, insulated containers, microwaveable cups and, last but not least, those brightly colored, plastic Hello Kitty boxes that accompany kids to school. Adult versions abound, too, although Ichiban Kan's bento aisle seems pretty well populated by over-twenty-somethings. For those who want to pack with style, <a href="http://www.plasticashop.com/mm5/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=P&Product_Code=BNTOBX&Category_Code
Designer boxes">Plastica offers a sleek, stackable set in elegant colors.

Japan is not the only country with distinctive lunch boxes. Vietnam has its aluminum ca men that families carry every morning to the market to pick up breakfast, a different soup in each of the layers prepared exactly as each person prefers. The beautifully painted enamel tins of Malaysia are collectors' items, while in India, no-nonsense tiffin boxes show wonder less in their appearance than in their amazing daily travels from home to office and back again.

In Japan, there are nearly 500 magazines dedicated to showing parents (read: mothers) how to pack lunches that will entice and impress. The proper order to place in the elements, the proper balance of color and flavors, the proper container for the right food, the secret to making flowers and hamsters and their favorite manga characters out of edible delights: childrens' meals are no less subject to codification and over-the-top creativity than anything else the Japanese do.

A few English-language books attempt to translate the techniques as well as the art of bento. Some designs would only appeal to an obsessive artist with lots of free time, but many are simple and worth trying. It's a good way to get the kids involved the night before. Lay out some ingredients, flip to a fun photo and suddenly packing lunch becomes a game. Two titles to check out are Bento Boxes: Japanese Meals on the Go for a how-to guide and Face Food: The Visual Creativity of Japanese Bento Boxes for an aesthetic treatment of the topic.

Another good resource is Biggie's Lunch in A Box site, where parents will find excellent suggestions for getting their kids off to school with good food. She has hints that acknowledge the need for speed in addition to the desire to make lunch and snacks both healthy and fun.

Like with most good habits, packing meals for lunch requires practice and foresight at first, then as the regimen settles into a comfortable part of your day and week, merely some momentary foresight during weekend shopping and prep. Simple tips include washing and cutting your vegetables ahead of time, freezing food in smaller batches and learning to pack more flavor than bulk.

And if you just want to have a cute lunchbox without the work, well, they do make excellent take-out containers. Buy one with straps or handles to carry to your favorite deli counter and do your part to cut back on disposable ware.

For years, I've driven by Russia House-- it's large, red letters and neon-framed windows staring me down every time I head south on highway 101. I've wanted to go there for a long time, but just never got around to it. This week, I finally stared back.

Very little information could be gleaned from a Google search of the place and no one I know had ever been there. The most information I could find was a list of seven comments on Yelp.com. The reviews were decidedly mixed. Rumors of all-you-can-eat (and drink) Russian food, dancing, and either a hostile welcome or no welcome at all were all I had to go on. To me, that sounded almost like a dare. I discussed the restaurant with a friend of mine who felt equally up to the challenge. In fact, she said she already had her Russian name picked out for the evening-- Katinka. While I googled her stage name (which I learned means "pure"), she made the reservation. We gathered a group of eight people together, figuring there was a certain safety in numbers.

While I busied myself snapping photos of the Russia House sign upon arrival, the three dining companions I showed up with were confronted by a man of about sixty dressed in blue jeans and leather jacket standing near a sign that read "Dress code strictly enforced." A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. He was anything but welcoming. After explaining that we had a reservation, we were allowed entry.

Once past the Russian Cerberus, we stepped inside the zodiac-themed blue doors and walked upstairs to the dining room. The first thing I noticed were the enormous crystal chandeliers that seemed to be in some sort of battle with the neon of the bar for who could throw off the most light. It was extremely bright.

The second thing I noticed was a little girl, maybe seven years old, in some sort of ice dancing outfit. My friend Gary asked if that was the Russian Jonbenet. Several other children of varying ages were all dressed up and running about.

The third thing to capture my attention was the group of about thirty people standing about two banks of long, platter-filled tables. Some of them stared at us blankly. Others stared out the window, waiting for someone or perhaps something to happen.

The fourth thing I noticed was that no one came to greet us. After about a minute of standing around trying not to look helpless or uncomfortable, my friend Lyle stopped a waiter who was rushing past us. We mentioned the name of our reservation. He pointed to a table for four and said we could sit there. When we explained that more were joining us, he pointed to a larger table next to the large party with all that shrimp cocktail. We sat. And then we sat some more.

What was I hoping to accomplish by being here? Was this a big mistake? Was the big, Russian dinner I've been promoting among my friends going to be a big, Russian failure? I wondered.

After a thorough examination of a wall mural we decided could only have been inspired by Russian fairy tales filtered through the mind of a Chernobyl survivor,we tired of sitting without benefit of food or drink. No one had approached us for minutes. Lyle pulled some money out of his wallet and beckoned a blond woman who was standing under the neon sign of the bar to come over. He asked for her name and how we might procure some service. While he did this, he handed her the money. She handed the money back, telling us that she was Elya, the owner. When I asked her if she wanted the name of our party for reservation purposes, she said, "No, it's okay. I don't need that." At that point, I knew we needed some vodka. Fast.

We made our vodka selection-- not expensive, considering we had to buy it by the bottle, but decent. 750 ml of Absolut for $60. When it was brought to the table, we asked if there was any real Russian vodka to be had. Elya replied, "No, not yet. Soon." Lyle asked how long Russia House had been open. 20 years. Russian vodka must be harder to obtain than I had previously thought.

We also asked about the menu. We had heard of an all you can eat and drink feast, but what we had in front of us was an a la carte menu. She told us, yes, she did that sometimes on Fridays. Fridays? I told her we understood the restaurant was only open to the public on Saturdays. She shrugged her shoulders and said that sometimes she felt like opening on Friday, too.

When she noted the empty seats around our table, I explained that we were still waiting for the rest of our party.

"Your girlfriends?" she asked.

"Sort of," I replied.

"Are they Russian?"

"No. Not Russian." I thought of the fake Russian names they'd be using tonight.

"That's surprising," she said. "Ninety-five percent of the American men who come here have Russian girlfriends or wives. So why have you come?"

I thought about how to answer that one, but settled on, "To have fun!"

She smiled and got our waiter. I think at some point in that brief exchange, it was decided that we liked each other and the mood of the room shifted. The girls arrived, we settled into our first drink, and Lyle took charge of ordering appetizers.

What came to the table were baskets of soft rye bread and butter, platters of beef tongue, smoked salmon, smoked sturgeon beef piroshke, and shrimp cocktail. Lots of shrimp cocktail.

The beef tongue was good with a little mustard sauce and soft rye bread...

The beef piroshke was excellent. We were certain there was more that just meat in them. We briefly discussed which organs might have been included.

The best dish, to the unanimous decision of the table, was the smoked sturgeon. Salty, faintly smoky and butter on the tongue, it needed nothing but perhaps a little vodka to keep it company on its way down my throat. We had two platters. They even threw in more shrimp cocktail.

Our table livened up after some food, cold vodka, and soda water served in iced pitchers. I looked over at the birthday party next to us. I still didn't see anyone smiling. Just people milling about in fur stoles (women, naturally) and not touching their food. I thought they might be having a wake instead. Commenting on the brightness of the lights, my friend Gary looked to the birthday crowd and commented that he now understood why Russian women wore so much make up-- it was to hold up under those damned bright lights. He wondered where he could get a make up mirror with a Russian setting. I drank a little more vodka.

Then, suddenly, everything changed. Everyone's attention turned to the bandstand. A woman who looked remarkably like Jan Wahl started singing. The lights, mercifully, were dimmed. Everyone started smiling and moved to the dance floor. Apparently, the party had begun.

People danced, moved back to the tables to drink a little, and then danced some more. We watched from our table, since our main courses had arrived. Chicken Kiev, which seemed like a must-have since I frequently ate the Stouffer's version as a child, was a bit of a dry disappointment, and shashlik -- kebabs of fish and chicken, we found tastier. Lots of potatoes made their way to our table, as did some excellent pickled vegetables. The hands-down favorite was the watermelon. The eight of us were stuffed and ready now to give our full attention to what was about to happen on the dance floor.

The little girl in what we thought was an ice dancing dress was partnered with a dancing boy. Everyone in the restaurant crowded around the dance floor. We were shown the proper way to swing dance, fox trot, and just about every other kind of trot. The dancers were cute and we laughed and clapped for them, but the Russians looked on humorless, as if this were something to be taken very seriously, which doesn't seem so surprising when one considers that Russia has produced some of the greatest dancers the world has ever seen. Think Nijinsky, Pavlova, and Baryshnikov. I felt as though I might be missing something important. I had another sip of my vodka.

A much older couple then took over, showing us hot Latin-inspired moves that loosened up the crowd a little. Decency (or simply poor photography skills) prevents me from showing you the 13 year-old girls costume, but I can show you an example of her excellent hand movement...

Having been shown how it's all done, we took to the dance floor ourselves, working off the shrimp cocktail and vodka. Everyone else in the room seemed to have the same idea.

Back at our table for a little resting and watering, I saw that the birthday club had finally sat down to their meal. For a minute or two at a time. Some ran off to dance, some came over to flirt with a couple of my friends.

I thought perhaps we'd gone about our dinner all wrong. We ate then danced. The Russians danced, then ate. Perhaps there was sense in that. Do we see dancing as a digestive activity while they see it as an appetite stimulant? I wondered.

I also wondered what all the fuss regarding hostile service was about on Yelp. In my opinion, the people that walked away from the place weren't trying hard enough (Yes, I know-- they have a good point). I regarded the experience as a bit of travel adventure.

I'm certainly no sociologist, but given centuries of strong-armed governments, pogroms, and war, I don't think it strange that Russians might be a bit tight-knit, insular, and suspicious as a group. Once we got past the doorman and actually started talking to people, we found them warm and lively. It just takes a little while. To make more pat generalizations about the Russians, I think that any civilization that has made such incredible contributions to literature, music, and dance is worth the effort to get to know a little better. And those little matrioshka stacking dolls. Sigh.

What started out as a rather uncertain evening ended up being a hell of a lot of fun. If you can see yourself making it past the doorman, I say put on your (fake) fur hat and your dancing boots and just go.

Here's a sped-up video of the place. Stop at any frame to get a good look at the joint:

The Russia House is open to the public on Saturday nights. Please don't ask the hours, because I have no idea.

Russia House is located at 2011 Bayshore Boulevard in San Francisco, 94134
View Map
Call 415-330-9991 for reservations. Be strong.

Haggis. For some reason, that word seems to conjure looks of extreme disgust on the faces of most Americans. "Do you even know what it is?" I ask. Or, better yet, in between the "icks" and "ews" I question "Have you ever even tasted it?" Not surprisingly, most people answer with a sheepish "No."

Granted, haggis, which is essentially a spiced lamb and oatmeal sausage, gets a bum rap in the U.S. primarily because much of what you find in this country is canned and more closely resembles a mushy, livery blob. Authentic, fresh Scottish haggis cannot be imported into the United States due to strict regulations.

But haggis really can be delicious. So I decided to prove it to my friends. Luckily for me, and my Scottish husband, Friday night January 25th just so happens to be Burns Night, a Scottish holiday celebrating the birthday of Scotland's beloved poet, Robert Burns. A night when the homely little haggis is properly revered.

A key element of Burns Night--whether a grande formal affair or just a few friends getting together--is haggis, traditionally served with neeps (turnips; although I believe what they use in Scotland is actually what we know as rutabagas in the U.S.) and tatties (mashed potatoes) and a wee lick of whisky.

My first order of business was finding an edible haggis in the Bay Area. Either that or make my own, which I was willing to do if it came down to it. Fortunately, there are enough people in the Bay Area who like it that I found a few excellent referrals to a little shop called The Scottish Meat Pie Co., who actually make their own fresh haggis. Granted, I still had to work for it as they aren't officially in the Bay Area, but in a little town called Dixon near Sacramento. But I love my Scottish husband and I wanted to celebrate his Scottishness properly. As well as prove to my friends that haggis is delicious.

Therefore, on Monday, I made the drive out to Dixon (and sat in a massive traffic jam for 2 hours) to pick up my previously reserved haggis. The very friendly folks at the Scottish Meat Pie Co. definitely recommended reserving one at this "wild haggis time of the year." In fact, they had just finished making a big batch of haggis--lucky me!

So with my fresher-than-fresh haggis I made my way home, and tomorrow night I'll be serving up a platter of haggis, neeps and tatties, and shots of Scotch whisky, while reciting Robert Burns' poem To a Haggis.

A few asides:
• There are lots of Burns Nights happening all over the Bay Area, such as the one at the Edinburgh Castle Pub on Saturday January 26th, of you want to get your Scottish on.

• The next time someone offers you haggis, rather than scrunching up your face into a grimace, perhaps take a bite.

• Yes, haggis contains offal, typically lamb meat, liver, and heart, but remember that eating the whole beast is a sustainable, responsible way of eating!

The Scottish Meat Pie Co.
245 N. 1st Street
Dixon, CA 95620
view map
707.678.5354

I love cookbooks. If I didn't, I wouldn't bother reviewing them. When I read them, I try to imagine who the book might appeal to, if not me, and I try to be as fair as I can. If I don't think a book is worthwhile, I generally don't bother to review it. I'd rather focus on the ones I'm excited about.

I am particularly wary of self-published cookbooks. They usually lack editing and sometimes lack focus. The authors don't necessarily have much credibility or authority either. But there was something about Throw a Great Party. I was intrigued by the premise of the book "Inspired by evenings in Paris with Jim Haynes." The book offers recipes and tips for throwing and catering parties for 25 to 100 people. It's written by three friends who have been throwing legendary Sunday night dinner parties in Paris for 30 years. One of the authors has been a restaurant chef, a cooking instructor and also a food blogger.

Could the book have used some editing? Absolutely. There is plenty of shorthand, some details are skipped, there are some odd choices in the index, and not every recipe feels like it has been independently tested, but in some ways that's part of its charm. Each recipe comes with a story about who created it and tips on how to make it work for a big group.

I'm sure if you are one of the estimated 100,000 people who have eaten dinner at Jim's and perhaps dined with people like Yoko Ono or R. Crumb or Chloe Sevigny, this book would be a memento of sorts. But it's a practical guide for another audience. If you are in the position to throw a big dinner party, this is a very unique book written by those who have done it again and again and again. Recipes range from Gazpacho to Sabz Ghost (lamb in coconut milk) to Cassoulet. Each are home cooking recipes, not restaurant recipes and generally inexpensive and fairly easy to prepare. And if you'd like to dine in Paris with Jim, by all means, head to the Jim Hanes website and request an invite!

Note: Each recipe comes with amounts for 25 or 100, but we're only posting the 25 person version.

Beet Salad with Walnuts, Shallots and Parsley

Serves: 25

Ingredients
5 lb (2 1/2 kg) beets, cooked and peeled (see method below)
1 lb (500 g) walnuts, toasted briefly
12 oz (375 g) shallots, minced
1 bunch parsley, finely chopped

Preparation
1. Chop beets in to bite sized pieces and place in a large bowl.
2. Chop the walnuts coarsely.
3. Make the vinaigrette. (see recipe below)
4. If the salad is to be served later, store all the ingredients in separate closed containers in the refrigerator.

To serve: Beat the vinaigrette to emulsify and add the remaining ingredients in a large bowl. Toss lightly, but thoroughly. Serve in small bowls or plates.

To cook raw beets in quantity:
1. Thoroughly scrub beets, having first cut off the greens but leaving about an inch of stalk at the top.
2. Place the beets in 1 or 2 baking or roasting pans, packing them in one layer.
3. Drizzle generously with olive oil and season with salt and pepper.
4. With your hands, roll the beets in the oil and seasoning so all sides are covered.
5. Cover the pans tightly with foil and bake in a moderately hot oven (375 degrees) for 1 hour.
6. Check for tenderness by piercing with a knife. Beets cook slowly and may need more time.
7. Cool and peel, using rubber gloves to keep our hands from staining.

Vinaigrette

Ingredients
1 Tablespoon garlic, finely chopped
3/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 1/2 cups olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 teaspoons pepper

Preparation
Place the vinegar, garlic, salt and pepper in a large bowl and whisk in the olive oil in a steady stream. Store in a closed container until ready to serve.

Recipe reprinted from Throw A Great Party copyright © 2007 by Mary S. Bartlett

Heart of the City Farmers Market located in the Civic Center.

In 2006, I reported here about the Heart of the City Farmers Market, the oldest farmers market in San Francisco. Heart of the City has been in existence for 26 years, and is held each Wednesday from 7:00 am to 5:30 pm and each Sunday from 7:00 am to 5:00 pm. Even the hours of the market give you the clue that this is not the normal market that we have in the city -- most other markets run for half days or a few hours each week.

There are several reasons to specifically attend the Heart of the City Farmers Market, which I remembered when attending both the Wednesday and the Sunday markets last week.

1) It's a bargain. At Heart of the City, you can expect to leave with bags of produce spending very little money. The market location is a low-income area, and fruits and vegetables are priced to attract the neighbors. As a result, you will find very little organic produce, but you will find great produce from hard-working, local farmers.

Green garlic available in abundance this week.

2) Phan Farms. This is a farm that grows Asian produce in Sacramento. Recently, a friend mentioned that we have local dragon fruit available to us. I somewhat incredulously asked her what farmer was growing it, as it's pretty unusual in our part of the world. When she told me Phan Farm, I wrote, "Thanks - I should have known. When in doubt, the answer is always Phan Farms." Phan is the place you go when you need specialty Asian fruits and vegetables, or just to see produce that usually can't be found at local farmers markets. This week, I picked up some young ginger from them. Phan Farms attends the Heart of the City Market on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Rare bergamot lemons from De Santis Farm.

3) De Santis Farm. This is a farm out of the Central Valley that grows many different varieties of citrus. Over the course of a year, I buy green walnuts, Buddha's hand, pomelos, delicious Satsuma mandarins, and any variety of specialty citrus from this farming family. Last week, De Santis had bergamot lemons. They set me back a whopping $9 for two, but it was fun to try out this unusual fruit. De Santis attends the market on Wednesdays only.

4) Waffle Mania. There is quite a stir happening on the Internet about a waffle maker who drives his truck into local farmers markets and serves up delicious Belgian waffles. When I tasted the waffles, it took me back to the same delectable that I'd eaten walking around the streets of Europe many years ago. The only time you can have these waffles in San Francisco proper is Wednesday mornings at the Heart of the City Market.

If you are a farmers market shopper, I can't recommend this market enthusiastically enough. It's a part of San Francisco's history, is a vibrant market full of a representative cross-section of San Franciscans, and an enjoyable place to shop.

Heart of the City Farmers Market
Market Street
(between Seventh and Eighth streets)
(415) 558-9455
Wednesdays, 7:00 am - 5:30 pm
Sundays, 7:00 am - 5:00 pm

Seeing that the February 5th primary in California will actually matter for the first time in way too many election cycles, presidential candidates and their supporters are out stumping at key Bay Area cornerstones. Or, should I say that they're actually paying attention to us, the Left Coasties, because maybe JUST MAYBE our votes are finally going to count for something? (For instance, Chelsea returns to her alma mater, but pisses people off by making herself available only to lucky Greeks. In the hopes of being granted Chelsea face-time, some of her disappointed fans even missed out on Lake Tahoe ski trips -- oh noes!)

As a result of our becoming the girl who is suddenly hot when she takes off her glasses and lets her hair hang down, California's eating establishments have now become ripe targets for candidate glad-handing. The trite salt-of-the-earth diner has long been the choice site for retail politicking in down-home places like Iowa and New Hampshire, but it's a bit weird to think of our favorite hot spots being used for the same purpose.

For instance, just this past week, Bill Clinton was in Oakland and made national "news" because of a pointed exchange he had with ABC7's Mark Matthews. The locale? None other than Everett & Jones barbeque, where he also held a roundtable discussion, plumping up his wife's campaign while he plumped up his waistline with E&J's succulent ribs. How true to both his SNL persona and his storied connections with the African-American community for him to choose that particular location for a photo-op.

Matier and Ross also reminded us this week about the California Dem vote being split between the beer-drinkers and the wine and cheese crowd. As they report it, Hillary has the ear of the blue-collar beer drinkers (mostly downstate, they note), while Obama wraps up the liberal wine-and-cheesers.

This got me thinking, does this mean Barack Obama needs to go to The French Laundry to answer Clinton in kind? Or better yet, given his now-infamous 2007 arugula remark in Iowa, he could set up camp at the Ferry Building -- where everyone will always know the price of arugula.

But hey, what does all this mean for Bay Area beer-drinkers? See, we're a rarified lot up here, where many of us treat our beer like wine. This the crowd that goes to Suppenküche, Toranado, and Magnolia, tracking down hard-to-find Belgians, doppelbocks, and specialized microbrews. Clinton's beer is not that kind of beer. No, Clinton beer is mass-produced, domestic (preferably light) beer. And you know? There's not a whole lot of that in the Bay Area -- home of the micro/local everything.

So, if Hillary's going to find her constituency at a Bay Area noshery or watering hole, she's going to have to look beyond the beer-swillers.

She could go where Bill goes, but I don't see her pushing up her suit sleeves to chow down at Everett & Jones without him; it seems slightly outside of her comfort zone. No, I really see her at A16. Yes, I see Hillary in the Marina, I see her at a place that's a focal point for that not-too-young, not-too-edgy monied crowd. It's a popular place, it's a respected place, and it doesn't take chances.

Naturally, my mind started meandering around the city, trying to match candidate with eatery.

Barack would go to Delfina, because he'd feel the need to answer Hillary's Italian in kind, but in an edgier, hipper, younger neighborhood. Think about it: A16 focusses on a single Italian region, but Delfina is known to incorporate cuisines from diverse Italian regions and even adds their own unique California touch to each dish. And as we all know, Obama is the candidate who transcends culinary divides. (But is he Italian enough?) Plus, on his way out of town, he'd answer Bill's barbeque photo-op with a Lower Haight stop at Memphis Minnie's.

John Edwards: The Boulevard Cafe in suburban Daly City. It's always busy, it serves good, honest (if sometimes uninspired) food, and a lot of people forget it's even an option.

Rudy Giuliani: Let's give him Miller's East Coast West Delicatessen because it's the closest he'll ever get to New York on the Left Coast.

John McCain: He's a military guy and would be at home at Presidio Social Club and Top of the Mark. Right? I mean, he fought in WWII, didn't he? Failing that, I somehow think his platform might also gravitate towards Maverick.

Mitt Romney: With the hair, the suit, the smile, and the cloned kids, he's totally Cheesecake Factory material. And with such a large menu, no matter how many times he changes his mind, they'll be certain to have something for him.

Mike Huckabee: Before his salad eating days, I could see the immigrant-friendly guv hanging out at El Farolito, but since the weight-loss, he's probably looking around for healthier fare. Greens and Millennium are probably way too experimental and liberal for him, so he'd probably be holding court with a Baja Fresh veggie burrito in a strip mall somewhere.

Fred Thompson: I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about him screams somnambulistic businessmen and huge sides of beef, so I'll put him in Alfred's Steakhouse and The House of Prime Rib. He's the real sleeper candidate.

Ron Paul: As long as he puts himself as far away from City Hall as possible, he'll be good. I see Ron Paul setting up a grill and cooler in Golden Gate Park and yelling at all the kids to stay off his lawn.

(photo by Kevin Rosseel)

The San Francisco Professional Food Society, the Asia Society and the Chinese Culture Center have all joined forces to tackle a question that lingers, like a greasy smog, over Chinese restaurants:

Why is Chinese food so bad in the US?

Four experts will discuss the topic this coming week in an event geared toward saavy travelers, frustrated diners and nostalgic expats alike. Nicole Mones, author of the novels Lost in Translation as well as the more recent and relevant The Last Chinese Chef, will join Martin Yan, that infamous TV chef, who is now atoning for his can-cook approach by establishing an eponymous Culinary Arts Center in the Middle Kingdom itself. He hopes to teach American chefs how to cook real Chinese food. Rounding out the panel are Albert Cheng, former president of the Chinese Culture Center, and Alexander Ong, chef at Betelnut Restaurant. Olivia Wu will moderate what promises to be a lively discussion.

New York diners have already considered the question more deeply than we easy-going West Coasters. Nina and Tim Zagat's opinion piece in the New York Times listed access to ingredients and immigration policies as key factors. Mones herself compared Eastern and Western culinary preferences, recipes included, in her attempt to soften the question of why Chinese food in America is still in such a sorry state. Continuing the debate, the New York Daily News suggested that a thriving economy and well-heeled diners in China means chefs can enjoy a better living by staying in their homeland rather than sweating it out. How many creative chefs want to leave their families to sling kung pao and mu shu and yet another order of potstickers when their compatriots appreciate innovative flavors and, more importantly, are willing to pay for them?

If you can't make the event but would like to taste a bit of the controversy for yourself, visit the SFPFS event announcement: they list several restaurants in San Francisco Chinatown recommended by the speakers.

The Future of Chinese Cuisine in the U.S.
Wednesday, January 23
6:00-8:30 pm
Chinese Culture Center of San Francisco
750 Kearny Street, between Clay and Washington
Third floor, San Francisco Financial District Hilton Hotel
$25 Members (SFPFS or Asia Society)
$35 Guests

Visit the SFPFS website for details and registration.