We all have our go-to, dirt cheap, hole-in-the-wall Indian spot. This is not it. And thank goodness for that. No, Sultan is doing something different here -- something exciting yet familiar. Step inside and hardwood floors, sleek tableware, flattering dimmed lighting, and soothing earth-toned walls meet the eye. Meanwhile, the nose is met with scintillating aromas of spice and good things to come.

Sultan interior

This family-run Indian restaurant differentiates itself from neighboring competitors with its classed-up ambiance and presentation, and continues the theme through its menu of updated classics. Sultan has taken traditional recipes (some passed down for generations, some inspired from street food favorites) and given them a contemporary twist, serving them up with style and finesse.

Trio of Dishes from Sultan

Papadum with Mango Chutney

Chef Khadija, the matriarch of the restaurant, was formally trained in Mumbai. She uses organic ingredients whenever possible, including free-range chicken and New Zealand lamb, and freshly grinds all her spices, regularly shipped in from India. While this focus on fresh ingredients has placed Sultan into a higher price range than your typical Indian restaurant, the extra few dollars is well worth it. The quality of products and made-from-scratch effort shines through in each dish, and you are left feeling like you are eating at mom's table... when mom is a professional chef.

Chicken Tikka Masala

Sultan's Murgh Tawa Masala (their version of Butter Chicken, or Chicken Tikka Masala as many know this popular dish by) is the best I've tasted yet in the city. Incredibly rich without being too heavy, the chicken is smoky and spiced with just the right amount of heat, and the thick velvet tomato and yogurt sauce melts luxuriously in your mouth.

Garlic Naan

With every great sauce comes a need for a great sauce receptacle. Fired to order, the fluffy, fresh naan here fits the bill. The Garlic Naan is scattered with lots of fresh garlic and cilantro, and baked in a clay oven until crispy and slightly blistered on the outside, warm and chewy on the inside.

Kheema Naan

The Kheema Naan, stuffed with minced lamb meat, garlic, red onions, and fresh herbs, was savory, hearty, and would have made an excellent appetizer on its own.

Chicken Korma and Tikka Masala

Looking hindsight, it probably wasn’t the wisest decision to invite my spice-intolerant friend to this particular dinner. Nevertheless, Sultan rose to the occasion when posed with the challenge of creating a dish with no heat. That’s right, an Indian dish with no heat, but still full of flavor, is indeed possible. Our special needs Chicken Korma was created, a mild curry fragrant with turmeric, cashews and saffron, gentle enough for a baby’s palate.

Stir Fried Okra

The Stir Fried Okra (Bhindi Masala) was colorful and fresh. Cut into even bite-sized pieces and appetizingly bright green, the okra was sautéed with ripe tomatoes and caramelized onions. The stickiness of the okra was pleasantly present but not too pronounced. The tomatoes were heavily spiced and seasoned, and cooked down to create some intensely concentrated flavor.

Mint Chicken Tikka

The Mint Chicken Tikka featured two skewers of smoky chicken, rubbed full of mint, yogurt, and aromatic spices. Grilled so you get all those delicious bits of charred crunch, this was the best reinvention of street food I’ve seen in a long time.

Vegetarian Samosas

For their take on Samosas, Sultan uses a light, crispy shell similar to eggroll wrappers rather than the traditional heavier pastry shell. Their vegetarian version is filled with a puree of potatoes and peas, and attractively presented with mint and tamarind chutneys.

Mango Lassi

If the spice is heating up a bit too much, cool down with a Mango Lassi, a smoothie made with tangy thick yogurt and ripe mango. Served in a large milkshake glass, this creamy, sweet treat was the perfect balance to all the heat from the meal.

Casual enough for a family dinner, yet classy enough for date night, Sultan's winning combination of authentic Indian fare, dressed up presentation, and attentive service make this an oasis in a neighborhood that diners typically walk briskly by. And with lunch buffet for a mere $10.95, you can feast and still count your riches on the way out.

Sultan
340 O'Farrell St
(between Mason St & Taylor St)
San Francisco, CA 94102
415-775-1709

Hours:
Monday-Sunday, 11:30 am-2:30 pm; 5:00 pm-10:00 pm

As someone who's been kicked out of countless grocery stores, camera in hand, I especially enjoyed the contraband video that Carl Willat, a San Francisco-based animation director, recorded with his humble Treo. Although the chain has stopped carrying some of my favorite products -- oh sweet, spicy ginger gelato, where did you go?! -- I still stop by their SoMa store before any major baking session. Nuts and dried fruit for me, unpasteurized orange juice and onion rye bread for my husband.

Walking down that dry goods aisle, I always go overboard. Later, there will be bags and bags of walnuts, pecans or cashews left lying around the kitchen. Spicing them up and distributing them among friends is the best way to deal with that problem. While you can keep them around your house for snacking, they're so addictive that I recommend dividing them up into many small caches, like a squirrel, to extend their goodness as long as possible.

SMOKY SPICY NUTS

Makes: About 2 cups

Ingredients:
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne, or to taste
Pinch cinnamon
1 pound shelled walnuts, pecans, almonds or cashews

Preparation:
Preheat the oven to 325 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment or brush it lightly with oil. In a large bowl, stir together the olive oil, sugar and spices. Add the nuts and toss until evenly coated. Transfer to a baking sheet and spread into an even layer. Bake until lightly toasted and fragrant, about 20 minutes, stirring halfway through. Take care not to overcook; the nuts will continue to crisp as they cool.

Eduardo Morrell

It's muddy, it's rainy, it's cold...so what better way to come together on a wet winter weekend than in celebration of a big wood-burning oven? The Headlands Center for the Arts is hosting Brick Oven Lovin' Again, a night of dinner and music on Saturday, February 21st, at 6pm. All donations go towards recouping the costs of renovating the center's massive wood-burning brick oven.

The benefit is the brainchild of Eduardo Morrell of Morrell Breads, who bakes all his naturally leavened hearth breads in the center's oven. For the last 8 years, Morrell has been baking breads for both the center and the Berkeley Farmers' Market, using the oven created by master oven-builder Alan Scott. While a separate memorial is planned for March, the benefit will also honor the life's work of Scott, who passed away in his native Australia on Jan. 26, 2009, at the age of 72. It will be a locavore's delight, with a focus on the produce & meats donated by Morrell’s fellow Berkeley market vendors, including Happy Boy Farms, Pomo Tierra Orchards, Happy Girl, Highland Hills Meats, Full Belly Farm, Riverdog Farm, and more.

Photo by Christina Z. Libertini

Served family-style in the arts center's dining room will be caramelized-onion and margherita pizzas, grass-fed beef stew, wheat-berry pilaf (made from Full Belly wheat), squash and citrus salad, sauteed kale and miso, green salad with goat cheese and apples, breads, pickles, spreads, and more, followed by apple crisp and chocolate ganache tart. In the kitchen will be alums from both Millennium Restaurant and the Headlands kitchen, including Morrell, Vince Peterson, Stephanie Hibbert and Ari Derfel. Playing jazz after dinner will be John Ingle (sax), Lisa Mezzacappa (bass), and Kjell Nordeson (drums).

Photo by Christina Z. Libertini

But what's so special about this oven? Built 17 years ago, the oven was part of Scott's first generation of quality ovens. It worked, but it wasn't perfect, something Scott freely admitted as he became the Bay Area's foremost authority on hand-built, wood-burning brick ovens. So, last year, under Morrell's supervision, the oven got a full revamp, preserving the decorative elements created by Scott along with the concrete foundation but installing all new insulation and firebrick. Scott's own apprentice, Quill Chase did the work. Now, says Morrell, it's much more efficient, using less wood, heating evenly, and holding temperature throughout hours of baking. It's an oven that honors Scott's work as it continues to feed another generation of artists and Bay Area bread lovers.

Headlands Center for the Arts, 944 Fort Barry, Sausalito, CA 94965. Saturday, February 21st. Dinner at 6:30pm, music at 8:30pm. A donation of $50/per person is requested for dinner and concert (children 7-13 $10 each; under 7 free); $15 donation for concert only. [ Map ]

Attendees are asked to RSVP online for the dinner. For directions and additional information, go to Headlands Center for the Arts.

So after the last Pregnant Pause post about food making me sick and now with this one being all about not drinking, you're probably asking, "Um, isn't this supposed to be a food blog?" It's a fair point, but I think you'd much rather read stuff like this instead of cooings about the purple unicorniness of pregnancy and how gestating is like sitting on a cloud of cotton candy. (Because it's not, and there are no unicorns, purple or otherwise.)

And even if you did prefer that, well, it's just not me. Well, it's not me now, but who knows what I'll be like after the little parasite is born.

By the by, "parasite" is my husband's word and before you get all pearl-clutchy or child protective services on me you have to understand two things: 1. he's a mathematician and likes to get scientific, and it is scientifically correct to say the baby is a parasite; and 2. the tone of voice he uses when saying "parasite" is very much in the vein of "Awww, the widdle parasite is making you vewy crabby!"

ANYWAY, the day after I found out I was pregnant, I had to fake it. Drinking, that is. We had three pre-planned gauntlets to run: a wine tasting, a wedding, and a birthday bowling party.

What started as a fruitless search for apples in Gold Country (an early frost killed off a lot of the crop earlier in the year) ended in a wine tasting at our friend's favorite local winery. Now all my friends know I adore wine, beer, and cocktails, so not wanting to raise inquisitive eyebrows and questions by opting out of the tasting completely, my husband and I shared our tasting with one another. While he actually tasted, I let the wine slap against my closed lips with nary a breach.

Apparently, we successfully fooled our friend -- she told me months later that she completely believed me when I talked about the "earthy overtones" and "dark berry flavors" in her favorite Barbera -- even though my husband was being way too obvious by staring at my mouth every time I took a "sip." (It's not that he didn't trust me, he was just trying to see how I was doing it.)

A few weeks later, I was at a friend's wedding and faced with a cocktail I created especially for the big day. This time, I upped my unbreachable lips game and added a glass swap with my husband. He'd gulp some of his cocktail, covertly hand me his half-full glass, and take possession of my totally full glass. Dinner was a sit-down affair with two wines. Inch by inch, I slid my full wine glasses toward my husband's plate and grab for his half-drunk glasses. Needless to say, I was the designated driver that night, and again, I fooled everyone.

Finally, at mine and my husband's birthday bowling party at Presidio Bowl -- a place known for its extensive beer menu and me known for my extensive beer love -- I performed the same party tricks but with far fewer opportunities for scrutiny. I just held the beer, put the beer down, walked away from the beer.

As much as I adored beer and wine and cocktails before my pregnancy, none of this faking it was that hard.

Why? Because my system was totally put off by the mere thought of any kind of booze. Later, my system upped the ante by making the smell of alcohol so unbearable that I even had my husband get rid of all leftovers from a Suppenküche dinner. The vinegar in the Salat mit Karotten, Kraut, Kartoffeln, Rote Beete und Kopfsalat smelled like an old German man was breathing on me after having seven beers and three schnapps, and I was having none of it.

It's fascinating how your body protects you.

Next time: are there any palatable non-alcoholic wines out there? I do the research for you.

I've been spending entirely too much time watching episodes of The French Chef with Julia Child that my friend Craig gave me.

I find Mrs. Child oddly hypnotic. There is something about her uniquely-accented voice and the not-entirely graceful movement of her formerly 6' 2" body that compels me to watch her.

And watch her I do. Over and over again.

This week, I've been enjoying an early, black and white episode wherein she gives a champagne and coffee party in honor of:

"...the Queen of Sheba, which turns out to be this dark beauty, made of chocolate, and almonds, and rum, and butter!"

She then invites us into her kitchen where she promises we'll make:

"the best chocolate cake you ever put in your mouth."

That's one heavy promise, but I love her enthusiasm.

I decided to put my money where Mrs. Child's mouth is and examine this cake and the woman behind it, however superficially.

And one or two other things, of course.

First, there is the name:
The Queen of Sheba

The legend of the Queen of Sheba can be found in both the Old Testament and the Qur'an. As a polytheist monarch of tremendous wealth and wisdom, she was intrigued by King Solomon of Israel, who was famous for his own wealth and wisdom, plus the odd little fact that he and his people worshipped only one god (1 Kings 10:1-13). She set off to visit him, laden with spices, gold, jewels, and a series of riddles to test his alleged wisdom. She was more or less awed by him, and he rather impressed with her. She returned to her southern Kingdom with "all that her heart desired", including a new, solitary god.

Despite what the vampy costume of Betty Blythe might suggest in her 1921 epic The Queen of Sheba, most accounts suggest that the relationship between Solomon and herself were of a respectful, intellectual nature.

Most.

Unless you choose to believe the Ethiopians. They claim her as their own. In fact, the legitimacy of their nearly 3,000-year, dynasty was founded on the belief that Solomon gave her slightly more than gold and jewelry as a parting gift.

Whatever you choose to believe, it is clear why the "best chocolate cake you ever put in your mouth" was named after her-- she was dark, rich, and sophisticated. A queen fit for the queen of cakes.

Of course, I couldn't end it there. Not with Oscar season around the corner. Nor an obvious tangent staring me in the face.

Come Back, Little Sheba

One of the few vintage, Oscar-winning performances I have yet to see is that of Miss Shirley Booth's turn as Lola Delaney in Comeback, Little Sheba from 1952. The dowdy, shuffling, and unambitious Lola and her husband "Doc" (played by Burt Lancaster) are 20 years into a loveless, shotgun marriage. The baby was lost and both find comfort in their own particular ways; he with alcohol, she with a little dog named "Sheba" on whom she lavishes all of her attention until it runs away from her, most likely from fear of emotional smothering.

And that's before the film even begins. I won't give the rest of the plot away, most likely since I have no idea what happens next. I'm hoping it's some kind of sex comedy, but my hopes aren't aimed too high, since films about deep regret and personal failings aren't generally funny. Or sexy.

In stretching the limits of credibility, I have begun to think of this cake as somewhat appropriately linked to this film. Both are reportedly richly-layered, slightly crestfallen, alcoholic, and a bit nutty.

Almonds, you know.

Which leads to a warning to keep one's logical stream-of-consciousness in check. Miss Booth may have won the Academy Award for her performance in Come Back, Little Sheba, but her biggest success came later as the star of the popular 1960's situation comedy Hazel, in which she played the title role of a dictatorial-yet-endearing live-in housemaid.

Though critics have complained that the show was contrived and only "mildly amusing," Hazel does have her die-hard fans, who are referred to as "hazelnuts." Irritating, certainly.

The evident danger here is heaping too much honor upon Miss Booth by substituting the above-mentioned nuts for the traditional almonds, but that would be another cake entirely.

Little Shebas

I still intend to honor Miss Booth. Or at least the dog who had sense enough to run away from her emotionally-starved owner by making this major player in the classic repretoire of chocolate desserts into a minor figure size-wise, while still keeping the integrity of the classic recipe.

I have omitted the chocolate glaze used by many recipes, including Julia Child's. I simply think it's gilding an already-perfect lily. Oh, and I'm lazy. It is a rich cake, with a slightly gooey, warm center. More chocolate only makes it heavier. Still, I think it is a cake that would make its ancient namesake proud.

I doubt very much that Lola Delaney would have either the emotional wherewith all or even the equipment to make one herself, but Hazel would certainly find it easy to whip up for Mr. B when she wasn't busy whipping the rest of his family into shape. And , chocolate glaze or no, I think Mrs. Child would still enjoy putting one in her mouth.

Sadly, this is not as popular a cake as it used to be. Chocolate trends of the past several years have lead to denser, darker, more chocolaty, chocolate cakes. The virtue of this cake is it's balance of chocolate and nuttiness, with just a hint of rum underneath. As befitting a queen, it demands respect by virtue of its subtle complexity rather than by beating the palate with her sceptre. And that's all too bad because I think this little Sheba is definitely ready for a comeback.

The following will make one large Reine de Saba in an 8-inch cake pan, or make six petite versions in a large (3 1/2-inch diameter) muffin tin. Comme tu veux.

Ingredients:

4 oz semi-sweet chocolate (bittersweet may be used, but I'm going the Child route here)
2 tablespoons rum or coffee
1/4 lb butter at room temperature
2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
3 egg, separated
2/3 cup finely ground almonds
1/4 tsp cream of tartar
1/4 tsp almond extract
1/2 cup cake flour, measured then sifted
one good pinch of salt

Preparation:

Pre-heat oven to 350F and place rack in the middle.

1. Melt the chocolate and rum or coffee (choose your poison) in a pot set over simmering (not boiling, please) water, stirring to combine. Cover, turn off heat, and leave alone. You'll come back to it later and it isn't going anywhere. Cream the butter and 2/3 cup sugar together until pale yellow and fluffy. Beat in the egg yolks until paler and even fluffier than before. Add almond extract.

2. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites on low-to-medium until foamy, then increase speed as you like, adding 1 tablespoon of sugar and 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar until soft peaks form.

3. Return to your melted chocolate and give her a little stir. The consistency should be somewhat satiny and fluid. Beat in a bit of butter/yolk mixture at a time, stirring constantly so the yolks do not curdle. Repeat until all is one.

4. Combine almond meal, flour, and salt. Now add this dry mixture to your chocolate goo, incorporating bits at a time. When this has been accomplished, gently fold in egg whites, starting with about 1/2 a cup and working the rest in ever so skillfully.

5. Immediately set to placing about 1/2 cup of your batter into each of the six muffin tins. Give her a good, hard bang or two on your kitchen counter to level and remove any bubbles in the batter. Bake for 12 minutes, then begin to peek into your oven obsessively until finished. A pale, chocolatey crust should form, but the cakes shold jiggle a wee bit, too. Ideally, a toothpick inserted about an inch from the edges should come out dry, but one poked into the center should not. When this has been acheived, remove from oven and let cool for, oh, I don't know, let's say an hour, because you've got other things to do. When ready to remove from pan, run a sharp knife around the edges of the cakes, invert onto a tray, and you're done.

Not exactly. At this point, you may either top them with a chocolate glaze or simply dust them with powdered sugar.

Serve them to friends at your upcoming Oscar party, or just feed them to your pets and watch their little hearts explode from the chocolate.

Sure, I love chocolate truffles and Valentine's Day goodies, but February has another sweet treat: pea shoots. If you haven't tried these lovely greens before, you're in luck because they’re all over the farmer's market right now. And, at $1 or $2 a bag, you can feel the love.

Pea shoots are simply the leaves of the pea plant. But that description doesn't do them justice. The leaves are bright green and succulent, with accompanying tendrils that curl up like wavy Mohawks and have a subtle sugary flavor that is delicious both raw and cooked. Like peas, pea shoots have a sweet crispness that goes beautifully with just about anything. They have a pleasant sweet pea flavor that works well on its own, or as an accent with meats, pastas, or beans. Some things I like to do with pea shoots are:

• Use as greens in a salad
• Incorporate into omelets or frittatas
• Include in soups as you would spinach or chard
• Stuff inside chicken breasts or flank steak with lemon zest and garlic
• Mix with pastas

On Saturday, I was so excited pea shoots were in season, I bought two batches at the farmer's market. The first night, I made pasta with pea shoots and crumbled bacon, and then the next night we had a pea shoot salad with cured chorizo, Marcona almonds, couscous, and lentils. The saltiness of both the bacon and chorizo nicely accented the natural sweet flavor of the pea shoots, as did the Marcona almonds and Parmesan.

When cooking pea shoots, be sure not to oversteam them as they'll lose some of their flavor and texture if they're cooked too long. I like to toss them into a very hot pan with a little olive oil so they crisp up a bit before they cook down. If eating raw, make sure you thoroughly trim off the woody ends, and then dress as a salad green. Either way, you can’t go wrong.

Below are the recipes for the dishes I made this week with my pea shoots. Both are easy and relatively fast to make. If you're looking for further inspiration, I found a site called pea shoots.com, which has a number of eye-catching recipes that made my mouth water. I haven’t had time to cook any yet, but am especially looking forward to trying the pea shoot and smoked bacon soup (yes, I know, again with the bacon); although the pea shoot bubble and squeak also looks enticing.

So if you're looking for a unique Valentine's gift for your sweetheart, how about a bouquet of pea shoots?

Pea Shoot Salad with Chorizo, Almonds, Lentils, and Couscous

Makes: 2 large or 4 small salads

Salad
Ingredients:
1 large bunch of pea shoots (washed with ends trimmed)
1/2 cup cooked lentils, white beans, or fava beans
1/3 cup roughly-chopped fennel
1/3 cup cured chorizo or soppresetta, cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1/3 cup Spanish Marcona almonds
1/3 cup cooked couscous
1 Tbsp chopped parsley
1 Tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Dressing
Ingredients:
Juice from one medium Meyer lemon or 1 1/2 Eureka lemons
Zest from one lemon
1/4 cup olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:
1. Chop pea sprouts into 1-inch pieces, discarding large tough stems, and set aside.
2. Heat olive oil in a medium sauté pan and then add the chopped fennel.
3. After the fennel begins to soften, add the beans and parsley and then toss together, adding salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.
4. Lay pea shoots onto plates and then evenly scatter beans, couscous, chorizo or soppresetta, and almonds onto each plate.
5. Drizzle dressing on top of each plate and serve.

Pea Shoot Pasta Sautéed with Bacon and Lemon Zest

Makes: 4 - 6 servings

Ingredients:
1 bunch of pea shoots, cleaned, dried and cut into 3-inch long pieces
2 cloves garlic
1 lb cooked pasta
3 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp lemon zest
1 ladle of hot pasta water
2 -3 slices cooked bacon or 1/4 cup cooked cubed pancetta
Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:
1. Clean and dry your pea shoots and remove any hard stems. Cut shoots into 3-inch pieces.
2. Heat olive oil in a large skillet or wok until oil starts to sizzle.
3. Smash and then chop garlic into medium pieces and add to the olive oil.
4. Add pea shoots and lemon zest and sauté for about 3-5 minutes, or until pea shoots start to wilt.
5. Stir in cooked pasta and pasta water.
6. Crumble bacon and add to the pasta.
7. Serve with a drizzle of olive oil on top along with a sprinkle of freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

Zinfandel wines leave their mark on you. As I strolled out of Fort Mason's Hearst Pavilion Saturday earlier this month, I looked down and noticed my fingers were stained purple. I had tasted more than 30 wines over the course of two hours at the 18th annual Grand Zinfandel Tasting thrown by ZAP, Zinfandel Advocates and Producers. The next day, my index finger still bore the mark of Zinfandel. People love this grape because it possesses that kind of indelible power, joyfully married to flavors of raspberry, chocolate, and spice.

Lining up for the Saturday tasting

The ZAP Festival is never glamorous. This year, more than 250 Zin makers from up and down the state converged inside two warehouse-like pavilions at Fort Mason. Then hundreds of Zinfandel geeks flocked in.

Beth Colagrassi and Anna Christensen show off their new glass holding technique.

They flitted noisily from table to table, tasting and spitting 500 or so Zinfandels, sustained only by small baguettes and cheese stations. The event spanned four days, and wavered between glorious bounty and exhausting excess.

The same is true of the wines. Zinfandel is notorious for uneven ripening, and winemakers often delay picking to avoid green, underripe flavors in their wines. That technique maximizes bold flavors and sugar at harvest, which can then result in wine with overpowering alcoholic heat. The wines at this tasting ranged from lows of 14.1% to more than 16% alcohol, and I picked up unpleasant aromas of rubbing alcohol and acetone (nail polish remover) in a number of wines.

Still there were many more successes than failures. Over two days, I tasted more than 60 wines. I've edited down my notes here, sparing you the dullards, and highlighting the great, the ghastly, and a few good values.

The stars included Carol Shelton Wines, Ottimino, and Ridge Vineyards.

Shelton herself showed off a quartet of extraordinary wines, sourced from all over the state. She is a short woman, in glasses, with a gentle smile. That lovely manner, however, belies her skill at controlling this unruly grape. Shelton is the mistress, even the benevolent dominatrix of Zin. She reduces the alcohol level in her wines (using a spinning cone) to achieve a "sweet spot." That way, Shelton can pick at high ripeness, but avoid alcoholic heat. Her wines defy the purists who disdain manipulation in the winery. All showed personality and terroir (regional character).

Carol Shelton: Unrepentant Zinner.

Not one of Shelton's wines disappointed. The 2005 Wild Thing, from Cox Vineyard in Mendocino County, is big and juicy ($28). It seems a wine to drink now, to soften the recession.

The 2005 Maple Vineyard from Dry Creek Valley is even better. Solid tannins underlie chocolate, spice, and raspberry flavors. This will get much better with age. It is worth its retail price of $33. Drink this one when the Dow Jones hits 10,000.

Shelton's 2006 Monga Zin, Lopez Vineyard from Cucamonga Valley, east of Los Angeles, is deeply tannic, with flavors of toffee and spice box. She says the 81 year old vines there are "starved for water," dry-farmed, barely one foot tall, and producing a few handfuls of grapes per vine. I think it's a deal at $21. Hold it until the Dow hits 11,000.

I had never tasted wines from Ottimino in Occidental, and they were a revelation.
Winemaker William Knuttel (also executive winemaker at Dry Creek Vineyards) manages to extract effusive flavor without excessive heat from dry-farmed vineyards in the cool Russian River Valley.

My favorite Ottimino was the 2005 Von Weidlich Vineyard. The wine is big and tannic, and needs time to perfect its chocolate, spice, and everything nice flavors ($37). The 2005 Ottimino Rancho Bello Vineyard was dark as night and loaded aromas of black cherry ($29).

People crowded around Ottimino's table; they bowed down at the pouring station for Ridge. Winemaker and CEO Paul Draper has produced Zins worth idolizing at Ridge for decades-- well stuffed, but with impeccable balance.

Eric Baugher: Zin coming out of his ears

Eric Baugher, Ridge's vice president of winemaking, was pouring samples of the soon to be released 2007's. The Ponzo Vineyard from the Russian River Valley was just delicious: supple, and loaded with chocolate and black raspberry. You should drink the Ponzo while you wait for the Ridge Geyserville from Sonoma County to soften up. It smells and tastes like an encyclopedia definition of great Zinfandel, with milk chocolate, violets and blackberries backed by oak and vanilla.

Here are a few more highlights: Storybook Mountain Vineyards, Claudia Springs Winery, and Seghesio Family Vineyards all poured exceptional wines. The talented Paul Hobbs is consulting winemaker at Sonoma’s Valdez Family Winery, and they offered tastes of three delicious if pricey wines. People crowded around to taste Turley Wine Cellars' 2007 Hayne Vineyard from Napa Valley. I thought it was hot and overstuffed, but still amazing with its roasted coffee, tar, dark chocolate, and toffee notes. This wine will garner huge scores from wine writers, but it's not worth the $75 price tag.

The Hayne Vineyard was among the highest priced Zins at this event, thus illustrating one of the secrets of Zinfandel’s appeal. The best wines sell for about $35, and are much better values than top-of-the-line Cabernet and Pinot Noir. (For more on how the recession is hitting the wine industry, listen to my KQED Radio story reported from the Zinfandel Festival.)

I tasted two wines that are real bargains. The 2006 Bonterra Vineyards Mendocino County is an organic delight, showing some green fruit character, but still chocolaty in the nose and juicy in the mouth. I've seen it on sale for as little as $12. I also love the 2005 Murphy-Goode Liar's Dice from Sonoma Valley. It lists for $21, but I’ve seen it in stores for as little as $14.

Oh, I nearly forgot the catastrophes. I tasted three wines that stank of Brettanomyces, a common spoilage problem. I got a whiff of wet dog in my glass of 2006 Edmeades Perli Vineyard, Mendocino Ridge. The 2006 Frank Family Vineyards from the Napa Valley smelled of sweat socks and varnish. And in the 2007 Easton Wines Amador County, I smelled the mildewed corner of a shady yard. Approach these bottlings with caution.

I can’t finish this article without mentioning Rosenblum Cellars, the popular and prolific urban winery in my home town of Alameda. Founder Kent Rosenblum championed big complex Zins a quarter century ago, when many serious wine drinkers still scorned the grape for its jug wine origins.

Kent Rosenblum, Kathy Rosenblum, and staffer Jennifer Anderson

These days most of his Zins (he makes 19) taste the same to me, because they're so hot and alcoholic. The international drinks-maker Diageo bought Rosenblum Cellars last year, but Rosenblum remains the consulting winemaker, and he was at the Festival with his wife Kathy, soaking in the adulation of his many fans. When I asked him about critics who disparage his over-the-top style, Rosenblum told me, "Our fastest selling wines are the ones with the highest alcohol." He was pouring his 2006 Monte Rosso, a vineyard, high up in the Mayacamas Range between Sonoma and Napa. It was a delicious mouthful of blackberry jam and cedar, and as I tasted, I felt transported to the redwood groves and red soils of that site. What more could I ask for.

Bar Drake, redux

One of the great things about living in San Francisco is that perfect pairings are available in all parts of town. Let me explain what I mean by this term: often, an evening out for me will involve dinner and drinks before or after at a location that is in the general vicinity of dinner. When the food and the drinks combine to make for a perfect dining experience, I consider this to be a "perfect pairing."

Some perfect pairings are across town. For instance, I happen to think that dinner at SPQR preceded by a drink at The Alembic is a perfect, if high maintenance, pairing. But that pairing usually involves a cab ride in between as The Alembic is in the Haight and SPQR is in Pacific Heights.

However, some pairings are not quite as far flung. And some have proven to be perfect time and again.

A new "perfect pairing" for me is close to Union Square and therefore perfect for entertaining out-of-town visitors who are already downtown and looking to meet for dinner. I've done it several times recently, and have complete confidence whenever meeting visitors and friends alike for this outing.

My perfect pairing suggestion is Bar Drake and Bar Crudo.

Bar Drake is a lovely bar that is located in the downstairs lobby of the Sir Francis Drake hotel. The drinks are delicious, the setting is intimate and usually pretty mellow, and the service is fantastic. Customers can choose to sit at the five-person bar, or can relax on couches and comfortable chairs throughout the lobby. I usually have the Bar Drake Manhattan that is made with Woodford Reserve Bourbon, Port, Angostura bitters and maple syrup and is served with delicious brandied cherries. If you'd like a snack, Bar Drake serves snacks and entrees from Scala's next door (where Top Chef 4 contestant Jen Biesty is the executive chef).

Bar Crudo is known throughout the San Francisco food community for its impeccable execution of raw fish. The restaurant almost exclusively serves fish, and only a very few dishes are cooked. In December, I placed Bar Crudo's arctic char on my "Top 10 Tastes" list, and a few of their other dishes could easily have been on that list as well. The dishes are inventive -- most recently I tried a yellowtail dish with lobster cream, vanilla salt, and licorice greens -- and are almost always delicious. I've taken visitors here with great success because the restaurant feels very San Francisco, and pleases anyone who likes raw fish.

Bar Crudo is a tiny restaurant with a small bar downstairs and a handful of tables upstairs. Because of this, reservations are highly recommended.

Bar Drake
in the Sir Francis Drake Hotel lobby
450 Powell (at Sutter)
415-395-8555

Bar Crudo
603 Bush Street (above the Stockton tunnel)
415-956-0396

Photo by Jen Maiser

I know much has already been said about the Mystery Box from Mariquita Farm -- both here on Bay Area Bites and elsewhere -- but I can't stop myself from adding one more paean of praise for this marvelous arrangement.

You go to a local restaurant for that week's drop-off, you pay $25, and you bring home a huge box overflowing with a variety of farm-fresh produce. Simple as that.

The first time I did the Mariquita Mystery Box, it was almost too much food for two people, but we did get through it all. My next go-around with the Mystery Box involved splitting it with a friend, using a fair amount to cook Thanksgiving dinner, but still having quite a bit left over. The most recent test of the Mystery Box's staying power involved a girls get-away weekend deep in the California redwoods.

This weekend's party consisted of six hungry women (one of them pregnant and, you know, "eating for two"), and five meals over two nights and two days.

This week's Mariquita Farm Box consisted of:

Mixed colors carrots
Mixed colors turnips
Austrian Crescent potatoes
Radicchios mixed with escarole
Watermelon radishes
Orach
Swiss Chard
Broccoli di Cicco
Tatsoi
Collard greens
Celery (classic)

Now, none of us are vegetarians, so of course we supplemented with meat and dairy, along with some basic pantry items. However, we did our level best to eat our way through all those vegetables, and not only did we get plenty of bang for our twenty-five bucks, but we even had leftover produce at the end of the weekend! All those who wanted were able to bring home extra carrots, radishes, a bunch of tatsoi, and I even snagged myself a beautiful purple head of radicchio. Everything else? Was cooked, eaten, and fully enjoyed in a range of dishes.

The Watermelon Radishes were sliced thin and served with butter and salt as an appetizer; tatsoi and chard got all garlicked up and jumped into a breakfast frittata; turnips, carrots, celery, and collard greens fortified a hearty soup; the potatoes were roasted with chicken schmaltz and served at lunch; the Broccoli di Cicco was quickly sautéed with garlic and pepper flakes and played a strong second fiddle to luscious steak and potatoes; and the exotic purple orach -- along with other sundry bitter winter greens in the box -- composed one of three delicious salads.

It's not like I needed to be convinced of the never-ending wonders of the Mariquita Mystery Box, but this reminder of its seemingly bottomless supply of fresh, healthful, affordable vegetables has made up my mind. Though I might now live in the far(ish)-flung suburbs, whenever Mariquita delivers to Piccino (easily accessed by the 101, dontcha know), I will be there to meet them.

Frankly, in this depressed day and age, can any of us afford not to invest $25 in a box of fresh, local vegetables that will last through many meals?

I know I can't.

Cupid's bow is strung, the candy hearts are out, and there's no shortage of $75-a-plate ways to dine with your sweetie this Valentine's Day. But do the two of you really want to spend next Saturday plodding through four or five overwrought, overgarnished courses, just one more pair of credit-card-toting giraffes shuffling in for feeding time at the Ark?

Especially when you could take that same chunk of change and spend it on a week or more of the best aphrodisiac Nature can provide. I'm talking, of course, of oysters, and better yet, of the $1 (or even free) oysters on the half-shell available all around town. Besides the pure taste appeal of their sea-kissed succulence, oysters are rich in minerals (especially iron, calcium and zinc) and B vitamins, and high in protein. Plus, raw oysters seem to go hand-in-hand (or hand-to-mouth) with a certain kind of adventurous sensuality. I wouldn't turn down a date with an oyster-hater, but I'd certainly put on my fancy panties for a second date with an oyster lover.

So, where to find them on the cheap? The key is getting there early; most restaurants and bars offer their oyster deals as part of happy hour, hoping to pique your appetite just enough so you'll pony up for some real grub, or at least run up a decent bar tab. Others use the deal to pull in customers on otherwise slow nights. Here, a few to jot down in your little black book:

Luka's Taproom, in uptown Oakland, offers good-quality oysters at $1 a pop every Monday night. Monday's also $1 oyster night in the Castro at the Woodhouse Fish Company. At Hog Island Oyster Company in San Francisco's Ferry Building, there's a very popular happy hour on Mondays and Thursdays from 5-7pm, with $1 oysters and $3.50 pints. The Asian-infused Eos in Cole Valley features $1 oysters (served by the half or full dozen) on the happy-hour menu from 5:30-7pm, Sunday through Thursday. In the northeast Mission, Circolo does $1 oysters from 5-7pm, Tuesday through Friday, in the bar and lounge.

At Berkeley's Sea Salt, there's a chef's choice of $1 oysters every day from 3-6pm. Also in Berkeley, the stylish Cafe Rouge does $1 oysters Tuesday through Thursday, from 5:30-9:30pm.

And if you really don't want to split your cash between beer and food, head over to the Mission's El Rio for free oysters every Friday, from 5:30pm til the oysters run out. Grab a beer and a plate of oysters, and head out to the backyard to sip and slurp under the lemon tree. Now that's real San Francisco romance.