The Greenwood/Phinney Ridge neighborhood in Seattle is rich with great coffee shops, artisan ice cream, cafes, burger joints, neighborhood bars, antique stores -- even a Tibetan monastery. It is quite strollable, charming, and easy to get around. Next time you're in Seattle, it's time to venture away from downtown into some of the Northern neighborhoods, and this is as good a place to start as any. When traveling, there's such an inclination to start with the main tourist sites (The Space Needle, Carkeek Park, Discovery Park, The Ballard Locks) and those things are all wonderful. But much like San Francisco, Seattle is a city built around its neighborhoods. Not many folks live right smack downtown and the neighborhoods offer such rich history, lively cafes, libraries, zoos, and new small businesses. It's time to branch out, and Greenwood/Phinney (or Phinneywood as its often called) is the best place I can think of to start.

Chocolati

European-style Hot chocolate at Chocolati

This local chain of chocolate shop/coffee bars opened in 2000 and now they have locations in Greenwood, Greenlake, Wallingford, and inside the Seattle Public Library. I've fallen pretty hard for Chocolati, largely because of their cream truffles (made with fresh cream and dark or milk chocolate and very little else) and European-style drinking chocolate. They sell their hot chocolate in bulk to take home, and do traditional espresso drinks and drip coffee as well. The Greenwood location just got their beer and wine license, so it's also a nice mellow spot to come in the evening and wind down with a glass of Cabernet. During the day, Chocolati is, hands down, the best place in Greenwood to get a little reading or studying done: there is ample table space, good light, and a warm wintery ambiance that lends itself well to settling in with a book from the library across the street.

Hot Chocolate and Truffles at Chocolati

To visit: Chocolati
8319 Greenwood Avenue North
Seattle, Washington 98103
(206) 783-7078
Hours: Monday - Saturday: 7:30 am - 11:00 pm
Sunday: 9:00 am-11:00 pm

Phinney Market

Phinney Market is the kind of place you wish would open in your neighborhood. They offer morning coffee, light pastries and egg sandwiches to begin the day and graduate to a cafe-style lunch menu, and a more substantial dinner service. The space is large and bright, with high ceilings, a long bar and a big communal table. On a typical day, there are Phinney Ridge moms and kids, young couples on dates, and neighborhood folks taking a reprieve from the demands of the day. And this is the place to do it--food wise, everything is solid.

Caleb's Blue Burger with Painted Hills Beef

The blue cheese burger served on a Macrina brioche bun is perfectly juicy with just the right amount of blue cheese and mushrooms, and the House Beef Chili served with sour cream and and a wedge of baguette is filling on the coldest of February afternoons.

Phinney Market's Beef Chili

And from 3-5 p.m. they offer Happy Hour prices on some of their most popular dishes, making something like the 1/4 pound burger a mere $4! With local roasters True North coffee and local beers like Hilliards and Iron Horse this is a place you not only want to support because the food is so darn good, but you feel good doing so, too.

To visit: Phinney Market
5918 Phinney Avenue N.
Seattle, WA 98103
(206) 219-9105
Hours: Monday - Thursday: 7 am - 9 pm (Breakfast 7-11, Lunch 11-3, Happy hour 3-5, Dinner 5-9)
Friday: 7 am - 11 pm (Breakfast 7-11, Lunch 11-3, Happy hour 3-5, Dinner 5-10)
Saturday: 7 am - 11 pm (Brunch 8-2, Happy hour 2-4, Dinner 4-10)
Sunday: 7 am - 9 pm (Brunch 8-2, Happy hour 2-4, Dinner 4-9)

A la Mode Pie

There is a surprising lack of good pie in Seattle. I haven't quite figured out why seeing that there is certainly no lack of coffee shops and tea bars. But the pie landscape is certainly getting better ever since A la Mode Pie opened on Phinney Ridge. Previously an online delivery service, the demand became too great and owner Chris Porter decided to take the plunge and open a shop.

Seemingly Endless Choices at A la Mode Pie

A la Mode offers at least 10-12 flavors of pie at any one time, with seasonal variations making an appearance on any given day. Customers can purchase pie by the slice, as well as whole 9" pies which are made-to-order using organic, locally-sourced fruits.

Apple Pear Pie

As an apple pie aficionado, I have to say that their Apple Pear Pie is quite good. It's made of sweet, tart Washington apples and organic D’Anjou pears with a little freshly grated ginger, and a dash of cinnamon. Where some apple pies tend towards a soggy bottom crust, A la Mode's apple pear pie has a crust that's perfectly crisp from the top down and a filling that's spiced just enough (not too much cinnamon and a slight hand with the ginger). The apples and pears remain slightly crisp, and the crust is buttery and flaky. This is a very fine slice of pie, indeed.

A Big Wedge of Peanut Butter Pie

The slice of peanut butter pie was wonderful as well, although this one is really meant for sharing: rich, dense peanut butter filling topped with a light chocolate frosting sprinkled with chopped peanuts. It begs for a cup of coffee which they have plenty of along with comfortable seating, good people-watching, and even pints of Bluebird ice cream to take home with you.

To visit: A la Mode Pie
5821 Phinney Ave N (across from the Zoo)
Seattle, WA
(206) 383-3796
Hours: 7am-7pm, daily

Herkimer Coffee

Herkimer Coffee says that their "purpose is to create a coffee experience of the highest possible quality." Within this mission, they sell wholesale and have two retail shops. The Greenwood shop is light and airy with a variety of espresso drinks and pastries (including Mighty O Donuts!). For anyone pondering Herkimer for wholesale, they offer individualized cuppings so the subtleties and nuances of each bean and roast can be experienced and understood. Their website offers excellent Home Brewing Tips and a nice Roaster's Blog that details the different flavor profiles of coffees they've recently brought in. While it does tend to be young kid/parent central here (not really the best place to read or study, especially on the weekends), I'm always struck with how affordable Herkimer is. Each espresso drink comes with 2 shots, so a small latte starts at just $2.68. This makes a traveling wallet or a local Seattle wallet very happy, indeed.

To visit: Herkimer Coffee
7320 Greenwood Avenue
Seattle, Washington 98103
(206) 784-0202
Hours: Mon-Fri 6am-6pm; Sat-Sun 7am-6pm

Bluebird

On a cold February day, ice cream may seem like an unlikely choice. Unless, of course, you realize that if you waited for the perfect, hot ice cream day in Seattle it could be a long wait. And at Bluebird, you're met with uber-creamy, irresistible flavors including the CB Peanut Butter made with fresh roasted organic Valencia peanuts, Chocolate Pudding, or the Elysian Stout made from Dragon's Tooth Stout, brewed next door at The Elysian Brewery. Or perhaps a hand-crafted milkshake and a board game is more your style? Regardless, Bluebird uses all-natural dairy from local Washington and Oregon cows, and they're constantly experimenting with new, seasonal flavor combinations (forcing you to visit often). As if that weren't enough, there are rumors of a back patio and a beer license so they can start doing dessert floats in the summer. All good things.

To visit: Bluebird
7400 Greenwood Avenue North
Seattle, WA 98103
206-588-1079
Hours: Daily 12:00 pm to 10:00 pm
Summer Hours:
Sunday - Thursday 12:00pm - 10:00pm
Friday & Saturday 12:00pm - 11:00pm

Jonny Raglin. Photo: courtesy of FoodGPS.com

Jonny Raglin and fellow Saloon Keeper Jeff Hollinger partnered with Bill Russell-Shapiro’s The Absinthe Group to open Comstock Saloon on the ever-busy corner of Pacific and Columbus Avenues in North Beach in 2009. Raglin and Hollinger created the bar program, and chef Carlo Espinas handles the classic menu: Hangtown toast, beef shank & bone marrow pot pie, and house made Cheddar crackers with pepper jelly. Comstock’s design, menus and staff uniform all reflect an earlier era, and the building’s history can be dated to 1907.

Raglin is from Harrah, Oklahoma and got his start at the Cajun restaurant Pearl's Oyster Bar while attending the University of Central Oklahoma. After graduating, he traveled to Europe and worked in Irish pubs. In 2001, he began working at Stars, where he learned from Dan McCracken “how to make proper cocktails with fresh juices and seasonal ingredients.” After Stars closed in 2003, he joined Incanto and worked with Chef Chris Cosentino. The next year, Raglin joined Absinthe Brasserie & Bar’s bar team, and began working with Hollinger to develop culinary-like cocktails inspired by the classics. From 2005 to 2009, he oversaw Absinthe’s bar program as Bar Manager. He designed cocktail menus for Nopa, DOSA and Maverick, through his own company, Proper Potion Consulting.

Raglin is a member of the United States Bartender’s Guild association. In 2007, he was selected as a StarChefs “Rising Star Bar Chef.” He lives in Bernal Heights with his wife Sara Spearin of Dynamo Donuts fame, and their two sons, Henry and Arlo. Raglin met Spearin at Stars, where she was the pastry chef and they have been married for six years. On a recent visit, Raglin crafted a Bamboo cocktail (recipe below) on a Free Lunch Friday at Comstock, which was paired with a Scotch egg salad. The free lunch promotion means anyone who buys two adult beverages can try Chef Espina’s lunch plate for free; other recent offerings in the rotation were fried chicken with mashed potatoes and chicken and dumplings.

What was it like having Anthony Bourdain visit Comstock for his TV show, The Layover?
We’ve been very busy ever since and we were already busy. Right after the show aired we had to hold the door on weekends. The Layover is one of the better shows because it’s for tourists who specifically travel to eat and drink.

What do you think about the mixologist label?
It’s a really old term. I don’t call myself that. I don't think it’s a bad word. I’ve bartended for 16 years now and always considered myself a bartender. Why would I change that? Everyone wants to talk about the esoteric ingredients in their drink rather than talk about life.

How do you divide Comstock’s Twitter duties @ComstockSaloon?
It goes to whoever’s on duty. We do twitter throughout the week, mainly to say what the free lunch item is [for Friday].

What are your favorite eating spots?
Sara and I work very opposite hours. It’s a lot of handoff. Our son is in preschool now, so there’s not a lot of date night going on. We manage our time and bank account these days.

What are your favorite spots to shop for food?
I like Good Life Grocery, Whole Foods and fish from Mission Market. We supplement most everything with biweekly trips to Trader Joe's. There are some things that Trader Joe’s does well and ultimately it’s the price that wins out. When we lived on Capp Street before moving to Bernal, we lived at Rainbow for their discount days, and we used those Rainbow phone book coupons. Living in Bernal, you’ve got to get in a car.

What’s new with Proper Potion Consulting?
Ever since Jeff and I opened up Comstock, I haven’t had much time. When I do some consultation, it’s kind of cool because I get to know about places before they open.

What is your guiltiest food pleasure?
I’m not guilty but bacon is probably my biggest one. I’m not the type that wants bacon on everything, but I do want three bacon strips a day. And Bourbon Whisky. That is a pleasure I should definitely feel guilty about.

Any news for 2012?
This year we’ll travel to Maine, near the Canadian border. We own a portion of a family cabin and have been doing a remodel. It will be Arlo’s first time. We didn’t take a vacation last year.

We’re anticipating having an even busier year because there will be a Dynamo kiosk at Crissy field. [Mayor] Ed Lee is our landlord, so as soon as we get the papers signed, it should happen. We thought we’d be running by spring. There will be two deliveries a day, and production will still be in the Mission.

What is it like running Comstock?
Jeff and I had thoughts on what the space would be: a classic spot where you can dress up and have fun. We continue to come back to the end commodity, which is fun. I would never recommend to anyone to open a restaurant, kids or not. The risks involved here in the city are great. Maybe in another city. It’s a lot cheaper to do business in the East Bay. Here, it’s high rents, high utilities and health insurance. If you saw what our water bill was here, it’s crazy. A lot of doing business here is about labor and healthcare. As a company, we just offer full health benefits via Kaiser. I think it’s great to offer healthcare.

For the future, we’ve talked about eventually opening something more foodcentric, like a café.

Which places do you watch and visit?
I see so much more comfort cuisine in San Francisco. New York has these amazing fine dining restaurants and fine pizza slices with very few mid-range places. San Francisco has embodied more variety for a long time. There is Benu, which is very successful. Then you have Ron Siegel at Parallel 37 now doing something much more approachable.

The really cool one who was able to diversify is Commonwealth. Valencia Street blows me away. We ate at Tacolicious and it’s awesome. All that tequila? That makes me happy. Their fried fish taco was so good. No one’s really trying that here. In Southern California, they do fried tacos well, but here?

I go to Mr. Bing’s because it’s right across the street from Comstock.

Bar Agricole is my go-to for a cocktail bar.

I like what they’ve done at House of Shields.

Family photo -- biking at Ocean Beach. Courtesy of Jonny Raglin

What is your favorite meal to have with your family?
Most often, we cook at home. Our culinary extravagances have definitely toned down. Last night, I took chicken roulade home from here [Comstock], which was awesome. Carlo’s food is not delicate so it travels well. It still tasted great. My youngest will eat about anything. The older one has food allergies and is very picky, but he’ll eat the bacon donut [from Dynamo Donuts.] I raised the boys on bacon because I do the mornings with them. Honestly, before Sara, I wasn’t that great around the stove. Now I feel confident with my skills. All it takes is Fatted Calf bacon to make us happy.

Bamboo Cocktail:
courtesy of Liza Gershman

1.5 oz. medium dry Amontillado sherry (we use Pemartin)
1.5 oz. dry vermouth (we use Sutton Cellars)
1 dash Angostura bitters
garnish with a twist of lemon.

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass with ice and stir for about 30 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish. Serve.

P.S. Keep your sherry and vermouth refrigerated for optimum freshness.

Once upon a time, two childhood friends drove a Volkswagen bus across the country to Berkeley. Sue Conley opened Bette's Ocean Diner in Berkeley and worked at Betty's and Peggy Smith cooked at Chez Panisse for 17 years.

After some decades of culinary success, the two were ready for a new challenge. Their concept was essentially a marketing vehicle for local organic farms like Straus Family Creamery which was the first organic dairy farm west of the Mississippi. One of them fell in love with the Point Reyes National Park, and the other fell in love with a park ranger. Tomales Bay Foods was founded in 1993.

Tomales Bay Foods

The vision for Tomales Bay Foods was a place where people could come and buy and eat local products grown and made in West Marin. Sue dreamt of a European-style cheese counter, something that didn't quite exist even in the food-forward Bay Area at that time. Four years later an old hay barn was renovated into the market that we know today, housing the cheesemaking facility, an organic produce stand, a natural-fabric clothing shop, an artisan cheese counter and a deli. Eventually, Sue and Peggy tried their hands at making some simple fresh cheeses--all of which I was lucky enough to taste on a tour with some chef and wine industry friends at Cowgirl Creamery.

Crème fraîche

The first tasting was crème fraîche:
Crème fraîche is made from a simple heavy cream with a little bifidus culture added to make it tangy. The cheese is made exclusively from Straus milk obtained from the original herd, something that is pretty hard to come by these days. The team at Cowgirl lovingly refers to it as their "estate-bottled milk." What I didn't know about crème fraîche is that the older it gets, the better it is! Although a film may form on the top of the cheese, it can be removed and thrown out, and the crème fraîche underneath is improved by ageing. The budding novice cheesemaker can purchase their own heavy cream, add a little crème fraîche, and use it as a "mother" to create their own. At Cowgirl, the crème fraîche is the building block for all of their other fresh cheeses. I'd never thought of cheese as a "live food before," but it's true: the lacto bifidus in many cheeses creates an ever-changing product that only improves with some age.

Fromage Blanc

Next on the tasting menu was fromage blanc:
The second-to-simplest cheese made at Cowgirl, fromage blanc is made by heating milk, adding the culture (lactus bifidus) to create acids and coagulate the milk, and hanging the resulting cheesecloth overnight to drain out the whey. The resulting cream cheese is a crisp, clear, clean cream cheese without any cloying xanthan gum. It tastes absolutely unlike anything I've ever had on a bagel and I know I'll never be able to eat Philadelphia again.

Manager Michael Zilber discusses clabbered cottage cheese

Then, it was time to try the clabbered cottage cheese:
This cheese is the first one that Sue ever made, and we hear it's the one she's still most proud of. Traditionally, cottage cheese is made from the nonfat milk that's left over from the day's butter-making. The milk is turned into whey and mixed with fresh cream from the morning's milking, which is why cottage cheese is traditionally a breakfast cheese. This cheese has great acidity and texture, and we're told it can be substituted for ricotta in almost any recipe. This cheese won a blue ribbon from the American Cheese Society in 2005, making it ostensibly the best cottage cheese in the USA. "What it comes down to is highlighting the high-quality milk," says our guide, cheesemonger/manager Michael Zilber, modestly.

AGED CHEESES
After a year of making fresh cheeses, Sue decides to try her hand at making some aged cheeses. At the time, a Dutch dairy scientist was interning at Cowgirl. With his input, the creamery as it is today was designed, and Cowgirl made its first soft aged cheese: basically a creamy Gouda. Many tests-and-repeats later, Cowgirl is probably known best for its famous Mount Tam cheese.

Mount Tam:
We learned that cheese ripens from the outside in, which can be noticed in the three different textures of the triangle of Mount Tam we were given to examine, sniff, and taste. The rind, which is made from candida mold that has broken down the milk and made a seal, is white and fluffy. Just inside the rind there's a ribbon of ripe cheese, and inside of that, the center of the cheese is a firm, bright white. "To really dork out on soft cheeses," says our guide, "first taste the center, and taste the ripe part of the cheese second. For the third nibble, taste the two parts together." All three bites had their own distinct flavors.

Three stages of ripeness in one slice of Mount Tam

Also, says Zilber, "anyone who says they are lactose-intolerant should be able to eat aged, soft cheeses." Why? "The cultures added to the cheese eat all of the lactose after a few days of aging and turn it into lactic acid." Hence, the slightly acidic, citrusy tang we taste in a newer cheese. The mold feeds on that acid, sweetening the cheese. "So a cheese's rind not only seals but sweetens the cheese."

Red Hawk:
The next cheese we tasted was the Red Hawk, which is made similarly to the Mount Tam. After two weeks of aging, the fluffy candida mold is scrubbed off of the cheese and it's washed with salt water. (Some cheesemakers will wash the rinds with beer or wine at this stage of cheesemaking.) The saline prevents more white fluffy mold from growing and then nature takes over. B. Linens mold from the air grows on the cheeses giving them their nuttiness and a slight funk. B. Linens mold is a naturally-occurring mold in the air--it's what makes stinky cheeses like Limberger stinky. Red Hawk represents the terroir of West Marin--it cannot be made in Petaluma, because the air doesn't have the mold. It is a true American original: the only known washed-rind, triple-cream soft cheese in the world. Pair it with a true Sauternes or a hoppy IPA.

Individual slices of the washed rind, triple-cream Red Hawk

Devil's Gulch:
This seasonal cheese is soft and aged, with a sweet and spicy pepper rind. Cowgirl's seasonal cheese is the same cheese year-round, with different herbs to finish the rind. The cheese itself is a washed rind, similar to the Red Hawk but the milk is from a Jersey cow farm. There is no cream added to the cheese because the fat content in Jersey cow milk is higher than that of Holstein cows, which is where the "estate-bottled" Straus milk comes from.

Homegrown dried pepper rind on Devil's Gulch cheese

Wagon Wheel:
After years of making fresh cheeses and soft aged cheeses, Cowgirl's cheesemakers wanted an "everyday cheese that they could cook with," says Zilber. Wagon Wheel is their first hard-aged cheese. The process is the same as with an asiago, says Zilber. He's right that Wagon Wheel is a great melting cheese: we bought out Tomales Bay Foods' stock of Barbaclette and spent the rest of the afternoon melting it over the barbecues at the Hog Island Oyster Company for lunch.

Cowgirl's first hard cheese awaits a melting

Cowgirl's Wagon Wheel melts on the grill

Cowgirl Creamery
Cowgirl Creamery Tours
Facebook: Cowgirl Creamery
Twitter: @cowgirlcreamery

Much ado has been made of the new permanent home of Wise Sons -- the first Jewish deli in the Mission and, arguably, the only Jewish deli in San Francisco worth eating. The powerful but petite eatery’s proprietors, Evan Bloom and Leo Beckerman, have become local media darlings, featured everywhere from a fiery hot chef competition, to blogs, newspapers, and upcoming in Sunset magazine and perhaps on local TV show Dine and Dish. I myself, giddy after finding the long-craved 2nd Avenue Deli-quality eats of my people, gushed about them in this public love letter earlier this year.

But while the excitement of the experience has tongues wagging (mmmm…could we get some tongue on the menu, please?) what has not been fully explored is the uncompromising heritage and quality of the food. “We’re not a factory,” explains Beckerman. “We’re all about education -- keeping this food and this culture alive and sharing it. The level of attention and detail we put into our work,” -- brining and smoking the meat, baking the rye, preserving the pickles and jams, and making every single thing in-house from scratch or buying from top-quality local purveyors who do so -- “this is truly slow food. That’s what people deserve.”

Wise Sons interior. Photo by Stephanie Rosenbaum

Bloom and Beckerman grew dissatisfied with their careers in construction management (Bloom) and non-profit medical development (Beckerman), and came together because of their love for food. Through kitchen experimentation and recipe development, the menu is a continuing work in progress. Its influences come from a number of sources -- the glossy cookbooks of Joan Nathan and Secrets of a Jewish Baker, as well as spiral-bound DIY cookbooks from synagogues, Jewish community centers, temple sisterhoods and the like, “each featuring six different recipes for Matzo Ball Soup, all slightly different, as well as Mrs. Schmendrick’s Husband’s Favorite Soup,” says Beckerman.

The Wise Sons menu also owes a huge debt to Oliver, a family friend who was monumental in developing the house recipe for bialys (“Ollie’s Bialys,” quips Beckerman), as well as hand-written recipes on 3x5 index cards from Beckerman’s grandmother’s recipe file. “I went through that box with her before she passed away and asked her if I could take the ones I wanted. That was a nice passing on of recipes.”

Nothing served, however, is verbatim of any written formula, family-derived or otherwise. The challah is on the sweet side, and even though Wise Sons is not a kosher eatery, they opt out of butter in the recipe to keep it parve. And because it’s 2012, it’s topped with flaked sea salt just to make it awesome. And while Beckerman, who oversees most of the baking while Bloom takes on the meat and the savories, wanted to make his grandmother’s babke with nuts, raisins, and meringue, they opted for chocolate instead. “We ended up going in a different direction,” says Beckerman. “As soon as you put in nuts and raisins, it narrows down the audience. People have allergies.” Right. This is, after all, San Francisco and not the 1947 Lower East Side.

The brisket for the pastrami and corned beef is cut to Wise Sons’ specifications by Creekstone Farms in Kansas. But why not use what’s local and grass fed? Beckerman unapologetically explains, “The truth is that we found out that grass fed animals are much smaller and too lean, and the pastrami doesn’t come out as nice. There aren’t enough cows in the Bay Area to do what we do,” -- which, on an average Tuesday at their Ferry Building kiosk, can easily mean 150-200 lbs. of beef and still a lengthy line-up of customers craving Reubens.

Photo: Stephanie Rosenbaum

Beckerman and Bloom’s brand loyalty for ingredients is unbending. The chicken soup starts with Mary’s or Fulton Valley. The matzo and matzo meal is Streits. The flour is Giusto’s. And, true story: I wanted to buy a whole babke to send to my mother for Chanukah last December, but I was out of luck because the particular Guittard chocolate used in the recipe -- E. Guittard 72 percent cacao -- wasn’t available. And rather than settle for a chocolate substitute, Beckerman told me, there just wasn’t going to be any. This is the same reason you’ll only find bagels on Saturdays -- when Beauty's can deliver them. “I’d rather serve no bagels than crappy bagels,” he says. “Do you want twice as much of something half as good?” Wise words, indeed.

Wise Sons Jewish Delicatessen
3150 24th St
(415)787-DELI
Hours: Wednesday through Sunday, 9am to 3pm. Closed Monday. Serving Tuesdays at the Ferry Building 10am to 2pm.
Twitter: @WiseSonsDeli
Facebook: Wise Sons Jewish Delicatessen

I recently moved out of San Francisco after twelve years. It was a long goodbye with tons of get-togethers, there was a lot of dust as I rummaged through long-forgotten drawers, and many, many tears were shed. On the last Saturday I was in the city, I was packing a box of old journals. I flipped one open and saw the following note from June 7, 2003.

"First day working at the farmers market. Head spinning, so many things to say. Working behind the scenes is so different than being a customer. Happy."

I remember that day pretty vividly. The Ferry Plaza Farmers Market had just opened in its new location six weeks prior, and I had learned from a friend that Nigel Walker of Eatwell Farm was looking for someone new to work at the booth. Up until this point, I was a regular customer when the market was on Green Street, and was quickly becoming fond of the farmers and vendors. I had learned to love green garlic from Eatwell, and often gave my money to Nigel's five-year-old twins as they learned how to make change.

Working at the market that first day was long, hard work. I arrived at 6am, and left the market exhausted but exhilarated at about 4pm. I hauled produce, set up tents, talked to customers and just watched in awe as the thriving market community swirled around me.

I didn't know the import that day would have. In hindsight, I realize it was the beginning of everything: of long-time relationships with farmers at the market, of a passion about local food that would lead to my blog, to being published nationally, to friendships among a community of like-minded folks that would change the course of my career and my social life. It was a rare moment that changed the course of my life.

At the hub of my memory was a kind, funny, brilliant farmer who was willing to answer any question honestly. And when I say "honestly," I mean it. Nigel didn't always give the politically correct answer to a question, and often didn't tell me what I wanted to hear. I watched as Nigel left his booth to meet with other farmers, interested not only in selling his produce, but in shaping the way that the market fundamentally worked.

My friendship with Nigel and the entire Eatwell Farm community continued. To be honest, I breathed a sigh of relief on my very last trip to the farmers market this past December that Nigel wasn't there; the idea of that good-bye was just too difficult.

And I'm not the only one so affected by Nigel and Eatwell Farm. So many people have a specific affinity for Nigel that is separate from the terrific produce and eggs that his farm brings to market. We've stood in admiration as we learn how well he treats his workers, we've watched his twin boys grow up at the market, and we welcomed his wife Lorraine (of Drinkwell Soda) into the market community recently.

That's why it's been such a blow in the past month to learn that Nigel has stage 3 multiple myeloma, which is a type of cancer of the bone marrow. He has spent most of January having radiation on his spinal column and treatments to force a retreat of the cancer. And it seems to be working. The latest I've heard is that the cancer is responding well to the treatments, and instead of heavy duty chemotherapy, Nigel will soon be starting a more mild form of chemo.

As anyone who has spent time talking to farmers knows, Nigel is lucky to have health insurance. The financial realities of providing good, healthy food to the public—even at a place like the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market—means slim margins, and personal health insurance is often last on a long list of priorities. However, the Walker family is still facing significant costs associated with his care that are not being covered by insurance.

If you are so moved—if you can relate to the effect of Eatwell Farm on the Bay Area scene, or you have a personal connection with Nigel—there are a few ways that you can help Eatwell Farm during this time.

• CUESA, the organization that runs the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, is hosting a fundraiser in conjunction with Tacolicious this Sunday, February 26. One hundred percent of the proceeds for this fundraising reception will go to Nigel and his family. It's sure to be a fun evening.
• Keep apprised of Nigel's health, and any needs of the family, on the Eatwell Farm Facebook Page.
• Donate to the medical bill fund via Crowdrise.
• Encourage friends and family to try out a CSA box from Eatwell. The Walker family and the Eatwell Farm family is ensuring that delicious produce is still being grown and sold during this difficult time and one thing we can do to support the farm is to ensure that the produce sells out.

Snapshots from the fitness and spa resort Rancho La Puerta Photo: Courtesy of Rancho La Puerta

Who knew that butternut squash could add a delectable richness to Mexican hot chocolate or that pureed peas could lighten up guacamole?

These secret ingredients are just a couple of the colorful accent flavors gleaned from a week at Rancho La Puerta, a beloved fitness resort with a loyal following, just across the U.S. border in Tecate, Baja California, Mexico. The resort frequently garners honors from those on the spa circuit, who flock to this rustic-meets-luxury destination in droves.

And what's not to like? A 3,000-acre, carefully-landscaped campus that pays homage to the area the resort calls home: Mexican-Colonial-inspired buildings, brick paths, and vibrant ceramic tiles. Guest can partake in early hikes up Mount Kuchumaa, hourly exercise classes, afternoon creative pursuits, elegantly-prepared food with a plant-based focus, culturally relevant cooking classes, an off-the-hook organic garden tended to by a plant poet, and still have plenty of time and space for quiet, reflection, and pampering.

Morning mountain walks make for a healthy breakfast appetite. Photo: Courtesy of Rancho La Puerta

The place is misnamed, perhaps: Given its emphasis on mind, body, and soul it might best be called a holistic wellness center. No matter what you call it, the ranch -- as regulars have dubbed it -- offers all comers the opportunity to find their bliss. As you might expect, it is a popular vacation pick among Bay Area vacation-goers.

For a price. A stay at the resort will set paying guests back $3,000-$4,750 a week, depending on type of accommodations and time of year. That's a far cry from when the ranch opened in 1940 and guests spent $17.50 a week for the privilege of pitching a tent by the river to enjoy nature, eat well, and contemplate the meaning of life. (Full disclosure: This writer attended the resort as a guest of Romney Steele, author of My Nepenthe and Plum Gorgeous, who served as the ranch's guest chef instructor for the week.)

Back in the beginning the ranch went by a different name, and was then run by 34-year-old Edmond Szekeley, a Hungarian Jew and philosopher seeking refuge across the border, and his 18-year-old bride Deborah. It was dubbed a cult by a visiting reporter.

A long-time guest -- some devotees have been dozens and dozens of times -- told this writer that it went through a hippie phase in the 1960s and 70s (think lentil loaf), and may have had a fat farm vibe at one time (weigh ins and that sort of thing) before settling comfortably into its current incarnation as a kind of year-round camp for active, well-to-do grown-ups who watch what they eat.

(It's also a popular stop on the guest cheffing circuit for Bay Area-based food folks like Peggy Knickerbocker and Tanya Holland. Other locals recently spotted at the ranch offering expert instruction include writing coach Dianne Jacob and life coach Emily Boorstein Wikman.)

As for that teenage bride? She went on to make a name for herself in the spa and fitness world, government service, and philanthropic circles, turns 90 in May, kept the ranch in the family, and serves as role model for aging with purpose, pleasure, and grace.

Today, the ranch is a place where people can choose exercise classes like pilates, yoga, and water workouts. It also features alternative healing treatments including the hydro therapy watsu, craniosacral massage, and the subtle movement practice known as feldenkrais. (The latter prompted perhaps the most hilarious line of the week: When asked by the feldenkrais practitioner to note any physical changes after practicing the method one wag responded: "I think my shoes changed color.")

There's also tennis, volleyball, dance, gym circuit classes, along with art instruction, life coaching, reflective practices such as meditation, nutrition lectures, entertainment in the evening, and oh, spa treatments, of course.

In short, you can knock yourself out burning calories every hour on the hour or you can hide out in a hammock or loll in lounge chairs at one of the many pools and not lift a finger.

The dining room chef and his kitchen crew at Rancho La Puerta. Photo: Lynne Harty

For the active guest, all that exercise makes for a hearty appetite. The majority of the ranch's cuisine, a mix of Mediterranean and Mexican influences, comes courtesy of the organically grown fruits and vegetable from the on-site garden. Largely vegetarian in nature with some seafood offerings, the ranch caters to vegans and the gluten-free too.

The operating premise in the kitchen: low-fat, high-flavor, whole grain, lean protein, and modest portions, which prompted this writer, on the go six hours or more a day, to repeatedly ask for seconds (graciously accommodated with no raised eyebrows or judgments attached).

There are nods to health food trends -- chia seed, nutritional yeast, and flax seed are served up in small bowls for those who like to consume -- but it's essentially homegrown food simply and well prepared with generous use of herbs and aromatics to satisfy discerning palates.

Highlights from the Dining Room menu include nods to the region, such as Braised Fish Taco with Cabbage Slaw and Pico De Gallo, Roasted Nopalitos Salad with Panela Cheese and Cilantro Vinaigrette, Chiles Rellenos with Green Pasilla Rice and Chayote Gratin with Black Lentils. But any of the sauteed, roasted, braised garden greens and root vegetables made this eater happy.

Desserts seem a bit of an afterthought -- with the exception of the Flan de la Casa with Seasonal Fruit Compote, a smooth dark chocolate treat -- but it's hard to feel deprived here when the food is so satisfying and filling.

La Cocina que Conta chef Denise Roa in the ranch's organic garden. Photo: Lynne Harty

Each week ranch guests have the option of walking over to the resort's organic garden, a farm really, for a tour and breakfast cooked by the culinary school crew. Once there, it's hard not to be enchanted by the enthusiasm for all things edible of the chief horticulturist, Salvador Tinnajero, who has tended the farm for more than two decades.

Tinnajero constantly picks produce and encourages guests to take a bite, sniffs soil as he runs it through his palms, talks philosophically about the need to share the land with critters, while figuring out tricks that prevent them from eating too many of his crops. A man of the land who firmly believes edibles have personalities, one guest dubbed him the plant whisperer.

The garden is next to the ranch's cooking school and culinary center, Lo Cocina que Canta ("The Kitchen That Sings"), where new executive chef Denise Roa, a Mexican-American restauranteur, shares her culture and cuisine with guests. It's also where guest chefs like Steele conduct cooking classes in a beautifully-appointed kitchen.

Romney Steele and cooking school chef Gabriela Lopez Alvarez survey the results of students work. Photo: Lynne Harty

Steele's sold-out Thursday evening class last week featured foods mostly foraged from the garden -- including whole roasted baby beets, roots and all -- along with local dairy and seafood. A spontaneous cook, Steele and the kitchen team candied hibiscus to serve with a Buttermilk Panna Cotta. Ranch-grown kumquats brightened a whole-grain dish, cauliflower, small and sweet enough to eat raw, was only enhanced by roasting with cumin, and tossing with cilantro and pomegranate.

The place's magic seems to work. During the course of the week this reporter witnessed guests slowing down, trying new things, reaching beyond their comfort zone, vowing to make changes back home, and reflecting on or healing emotional wounds.

Those secrets, however, stay at the ranch.

The secret ingredients in the spa's legendary guacamole recipe? That this writer can share.

Aztec Gaucamole is a big hit at the ranch. Photo: Courtesy Rancho La Puerta

Aztec Guacamole

From Cooking with the Seasons at Rancho La Puerta

(Ranch regulars have come to expect the spa's signature guacamole, which is dished up early on in the week at a soiree in the main lounge.)

*** Makes 2 cups ***

Perhaps the Ranch's most popular recipe, the addition of green peas to the avocado-based dip boosts the nutritional value of the guacamole and reduces the fat content. Good with tacos or an assortment of crunchy, raw vegetables.

Ingredients:

1 cup of frozen peas, slightly thawed
1 medium hass avocado, peeled and pitted
2 tablespoons fresh lime or lemon juice, to taste
1 medium tomato, seeded and cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 jalapeno or serrano chile, seeded and minced
3 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
1 teaspoon minced fresh garlic
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

Instructions:

1. In a blender or in the bowl of a food processor, process the peas until smooth.
2. In a medium bowl, mash avocado with a fork or potato masher.
3. Add the juice, tomato, onion, jalapeno, cilantro, garlic, salt and pepper.
4. Add the peas and mix well.
5. Press a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the guacamole to prevent browning, if the dish won't be served immediately.

Variation: Use 1 cup of well-cooked broccoli, edamame, or cooked asparagus tips instead of peas.

Tajik Kurutob-photo courtesy Zlerman-Wikimedia Commons

Cultural misunderstandings always grab my attention—especially when food is involved. So I was hooked the moment I read this recent headline:

Norway authorities take away Indian couple's kids, say feeding with hands wrong

Although the details of this ongoing story have yet to be fully revealed, it spotlights cultural stereotypes often associated with dining etiquette. While North Americans and Northern Europeans deem that transferring edibles to the mouth with a metal-pronged stick is somehow more refined than using the utensils we were born with, members of the many cultures who have been eating with their hands for thousands of years beg to differ.

Africans, Arabs and Indians (to name only a few) describe in rhapsodic terms the advantages of eating with their fingers: the sensuous connection to the food, the feeling of sharing and community, practicality (in that it’s easier to pluck that last bit of meat off the bones) avoiding waste, even a lingering aroma on the fingers to sustain the memory of a marvelous meal.

After reading scores of impassioned comments that the above mentioned article garnered, I felt compelled to conduct my own interviews to get a first-hand perspective on this cultural divide, followed by a hands-on lesson (see video clip below.)

photos courtesy of Vijitha Shyam of Indian food blog Spices and Aroma

Vinita Chopra Jacinto grew up in Northern India and is now a chef instructor at the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco. She feels strongly that Indian food tastes best when eaten with one’s fingers. She tells me that Indians eat with their hands because they believe that food is, “more than just protein, carbs and fat it nourishes the mind, intellect and spirit. Eating should be sensual and mindful, employing all the senses: sight, smell, sound, taste and touch. Using your hands gives you a tactile connection with your food.”

Jacinto clarifies some regional differences, “In the North, where breads are commonly consumed, you tear a piece of bread and wrap it around your food. While, in the South, rice is combined with curries, and each mouthful offers a unique blend of flavors. Traditionally in Southern India, plates are made of disposable, recyclable, banana leaves. Using a knife and fork on a banana leaf would shred your plate.”

Significantly, all cultures that shun silverware maintain a set of rules for eating with the hands. Before the meal, the hands must be washed, wiped or even rubbed with sand, as desert Arabs do. But the foremost rule is that only the right hand is employed for eating.

“The left hand is never used for that,” Jacinto says, “It is considered unclean.” In principle, at least, this is because the left hand is saved for bodily cleaning. Another taboo Jacinto cautions against is jutha, or double dipping your bread into a communal dish of food.

“The secret to gracefully eating with your fingers,” Jacinto advises, “is to use your thumb. For example, a small amount of rice is formed into a little pile on your plate, blended with one or more bits of curried lentils, vegetables, meat or fish, and then picked up with a twist of the wrist, held onto by the fingers and maneuvered right up to your mouth. But don’t put your fingers into your mouth.” she instructs, “Just use your thumb to push the food inside.”

Fharzana Elankumaran, founder of I Heart Curry, where she teaches Indian cooking classes, also grew up eating with her hands in Bangladesh. “I appreciate this way of eating because you have more control over your food,“ she says. “For example, if you’re eating fish or chicken, you don’t have to worry about cutting with a knife around the bones. When you use your fingers, you can get every last bit of meat and so waste less. It’s an expression of the great respect we have for the food.”

In her Indian cooking classes, Elankumaran encourages students to eat with their hands, but finds that it may be a challenge for first-timers. “ Sometimes my students tell me their hands get tired, because they are using a whole new set of muscles.”

Yemeni dish at Oasis Market and Restaurant

On a shopping trip to Oakland’s Oasis Market and Restaurant, I spy manager Rassam Sharif eating his lunch by hand. It’s a Yemeni specialty, fahsa (cooked boneless beef topped with whipped fenugreek, with a salsa-like sauce). Sharif kindly demonstrates his technique: he tears off a bit of tandoori bread, dips it into the meat and salsa, and brings it to his mouth with 3 fingers. Sharif prefers eating by hand because, he says, “You have more connection to your food. With a spoon, it’s just like shoveling something into your mouth to get full. In Islam, we are taught that the Prophet said to eat from your own side of the dish, slowly, with the right hand, just until you are not hungry. It makes you take your time and be mindful of what you’re eating.”

Enough talk, I decide, it’s time for me to get some hands-on tutoring.

Luckily, my request for cross-cultural dining instruction interests Mostafa Raiss El Fenni, owner of Berkeley’s Sahara Home Décor. He invites me to stay for lunch and we sit on intricately carved and painted chairs amid his stunning collection of Moroccan carpets, ottomans, embroidered textiles, brass lanterns, conical clay pots and delicate tea glasses.

Mostafa Raiss El Fenni -- Moroccan food

Raiss El Fenni, a former Cal student and chemist, whose shop promotes the works of artists from his homeland, tells me, “Eating with your hands is about sharing,” and as the youngest in a family of 12 children, he got a lot of practice doing that. There is an intimacy formed when you all eat from the same dish dipping in small pieces of bread, he explains. “ And if you find a piece of meat close to you that’s especially good, you can share it with your neighbor.”

“Does each person take the piece of meat and bread onto their own plate?” I ask.

“We don’t have individual plates. We are a very collective society. But if we invite guests over who are not familiar with this way of eating, we show them how it’s done.”

Watch my lesson in eating with the hands, Moroccan style:

Filmed and Edited by Kim Aronson

In the college dorm, it was a bit of culture shock for Raiss El Fenni that each student ate his own sandwich. “I couldn’t get used to eating by myself. So, I just waited with my food until they were done, and then said, “Hey, want to share? Eventually they got the idea and would offer to share some of their sandwiches with me too.”

Raiss-El-Fenni also hosts Moroccan parties in colorful Berber tents set up outside his shop. Parties range from mint tea and pastries to an all-out catered feast with live music and belly dancers. And of course, he will encourage your guests to eat with their hands for the true Moroccan experience.

Tanjia Moroccan Restaurant
 

After my tasty lesson, I invite my husband out for a Moroccan meal and tell him I’ll show him how to eat with his hands, so we head over to Tanjia, an Oakland Moroccan restaurant we haven’t yet tried.

We enter the lovely blue and red interior with low couches that let you sit close to your dining companion. But I am disappointed to see the tables set with forks and knives. When I tell the server we hoped to eat in Moroccan fashion, she gladly takes away the silverware and returns with a pot of water and washes our hands.

The first course is an assortment of delicately spiced salads: carrots, eggplant, cucumbers, tomato and bell pepper. Easy to scoop up with chunks of home baked bread. But with the arrival of the lamb and eggplant and chicken with honey and prunes, which are so meltingly tender you can tell they have cooked slowly for hours, my husband chickens-out of the hands-on approach and, to keep him company, I ask for two forks. It’s not so easy to change a lifetimes's eating habits.

Owner Jamal Zahid recently took over the restaurant from his brother, Said who started Tanjia in 2000. It has always been a “silverware optional restaurant” but seeing the reaction of a younger generation of customers not used to the traditional Moroccan way of dining sans utensils, Zahid decided-- as an act of hospitality to his guests-- to set the table with forks and knives, a reversal of his brother’s default setting. Personally, Zahid favors eating with the hands as a way to feel connected to the food and savor the meal slowly.

Ethiopian platter and injera - Cafe Colucci

At Oakland’s Café Colucci Ethiopian restaurant, by contrast, forks are nowhere in sight. Injera, the spongy, slightly sour, crepe-like bread made from the teff grain, functions as tablecloth, plate and utensil and the food is served family style, atop a large injera circle. “Eating is almost a sacred ritual,” says owner Fetlework Tefferi, whose award-winning restaurant just celebrated its 20th year. Besides the rules of hand washing and right hand only, she adds another from her native Ethiopia, “Once the tray of food is laid on the table, no one rises until all are done and the tray removed. We chew slowly, with closed mouths and a calm dignity. The food is sacred. It’s not polite to rush through your meal.”

Again, eating with the hand is more than just a mechanism to get sustenance into the mouth. “On certain occasions,” explains Tefferi, “we feed each other by hand, it’s called goorsha and it’s a loving act, an endearment. You might feed a child who is not eating enough or a guest you are entertaining. But if I were to make a bite for a man, “she chuckles,” I need to make sure it’s a big, well-packed roll of injera. I guess it’s a macho thing.” She adds, “We usually don’t eat alone. If you are in a restaurant in Ethiopia, for example, and the people at the next table get served first, they will probably ask you to join them or at least take a few bites with them. That kind of sharing is what holds us together.”

Tefferi demonstrates how to tear off a small square from the rolls of injera in the basket. She describes the technique as “wrap and roll.” You lay your piece of injera over some food and use all your fingers to gather up the filling and twist it into a little packed pouch, which you may dip into several different dishes on the tray. Our platter today has collard greens seasoned with black cumin, cabbage with carrots, potatoes with ginger, garlic and turmeric, lentils in red berbere sauce, yellow split peas in turmeric sauce, Ethiopian cheese and kitfo, a highly seasoned raw meat dish.

“Children are taught to make a bite of food that’s just big enough to fit in their mouth all at once, without stuffing their cheeks and to eat only with their right hands.” Tefferi remembers her mother training her left-handed brother by having him sit with his left hand behind his back.

“In the restaurant, we get 97% American diners. If they ask for silverware, I tell them it will be $10 extra,” teases Tefferi, with a twinkle in her eye, “ I just want them to try eating with their hands.” This gracious cultural ambassador wants to encourage more people to appreciate the 3000-year old cuisine of her homeland. “We need to revisit the way people used to eat; how much they cared and believed that whatever they put into their mouths was sacred,” says Tefferi. “The aroma is important too. Even after you wash up at the end of the meal, the scent of the food remains on your hand. Later, you might hold up your hand to someone else and say “Smell my hand, see how good the food was!”

(It was and I did.)

"Eating with a fork and knife is like making love through an interpreter”
-- attributed variously to Prime Minister Nehru and the Shah of Iran

Related links:
• A recent study says babies may eat better when they feed themselves with their fingers
• Chad Ward’s pointed history of the fork on Leite’s Culinaria
• History of Eating Utensils

New Orleans is one of my favorite eating towns. Granted, San Francisco is where my heart is, but New Orleans speaks to me. New Orleanians seem to just eat life up with gusto. And I love that they have managed to preserve a culinary history and food culture that is so distinctly their own. I jump at every chance I get to visit NOLA, and with Mardi Gras festivities in full swing, this is a prime time to be in town.

There are just too many good things to eat and not enough hours in the day to digest the story of my life. So, let's just get right down to the good stuff: fried seafood.

P&J Oyster Column at Borgne (New Orleans)

NOLA fare is not light. Things like butter, cream, and duck fat are used with joyful abandon. The deep fryer has a special place of honor in any given kitchen. With tons of fresh, local, seafood at our fingertips, our meals naturally skewed heavy towards oysters, shrimp, crawfish, and fish with an amphibious friend or two thrown in the mix.

Crispy Frog Legs (Café Degas, New Orleans)

On that note, let's start with the Frog Legs.

First off, these were the beefiest frog legs I've ever seen. They were huge -- the size of chicken drummettes! Our Crispy Frog Legs on steroids were served over a baby spinach salad with pickled red onions and apple-bacon-sherry vinaigrette. If you've never tasted frog legs before, what you've heard is true: tastes like chicken. Kind of. The texture is a bit different, like a cross between chicken meat and fish meat. These legs were succulent, with a thin, crispy crust. The freshness of the greens and tang of the dressing were great complements. Café Degas is a little off the beaten path so you will likely find more locals than tourists enjoying the tree-house charm of this spot.

Fried Oyster Eggs Benedict (Stanley, New Orleans)

Eggs Stanley is pretty much my idea of a perfect brunch dish. It is essentially Eggs Benedict (perfectly poached eggs, Canadian bacon, Creole hollandaise on a toasted English muffin) jazzed up with big, fat, cornmeal-crusted, fried oysters scattered on top. Decadent and full of happy calories, this is my preferred way to start the day. Stanley is the kind of spot I would go to multiple times in a trip because everything on the menu looks amazing. It's a bright sunny spot on historic Jackson Square with a retro diner feel to it.

Crabmeat Croquetas (Borgne, New Orleans)

Borgne is chef John Besh's latest addition to his restaurant empire in New Orleans. The restaurant is named after Lake Borgne, the saltwater estuary that surrounds eastern Louisiana and flows into the Gulf of Mexico. Besh and his executive chef Brian Landry grew up fishing on Lake Borgne, and it is the inspiration behind the seafood-driven menu. As you can see, we feasted on an embarrassing amount of food. The dish I kept going back to was the Crabmeat Croquetas (those little fried balls in the lower center of the pic, see them?). In honesty, I've never met a croqueta/croquette/kroket I didn't like. There are many versions around the world, and they are all usually deep fried, creamy, and delicious. Borgne's version was no exception. Theirs starts with a blonde roux that develops into a rich bechamel seasoned with spices. The sauce is then mounted with cream cheese and parmesan, with lumps of blue crab claw meat added in. After this cools, the croquetas are formed and rolled in panko, then deep-fried for a homerun on the satisfaction scale.

Oyster Po'Boy (Mother's, New Orleans)

You can't visit New Orleans without gettin' down with a po'boy. We headed to Mother's, always bustling with tourists and local businessmen alike, for our fix. Mother's is well known for their all-day breakfast (they serve a quarter of a million biscuits per year) and their Famous Ferdi Po'Boy made with baked ham, roast beef, debris, and gravy. But, if you ask me, the Oyster Po'Boy is where it's at. It doesn't get soggy like the Ferdi can get, and it is chock full of juicy, plump, golden-fried oysters. Get this and let everyone else have food envy.

Abita Beer-Battered Oyster Tacos (Photo Credit: Mike's on the Avenue, New Orleans)

So, in case you were wondering, the answer is yes, if there was a fried oyster on the menu, we had to have it. Mike's on the Avenue had the most interesting iteration of the fried oyster with their Oyster Tacos. Featuring fat oysters, beer-battered in local Abita brew, the tacos are loaded up with an Asian slaw of cabbage, carrots, cucumber, and onion dressed in olive oil and rice wine vinegar, Cotija cheese, sesame guacamole, tomato-ginger salsa, and a drizzle of Sriracha-spiked aioli. Despite the fried element, the fresh crunch of the slaw and bright flavors gave this dish a light feel to it. After many meals featuring the same New Orleans-style flavors, this Asian/Mex fusion was a welcome change of pace.

Shrimp Sardou (Brennan's, New Orleans)

Brunch Brennan's is an elegant affair with bow-tied waiters setting things aflame tableside, and dining rooms dripping with old-NOLA style. Brunch at Brennan's is also sure to be a tasty affair, especially if you opt for the Shrimp Sardou, a generous portion of spicy fried shrimp served over sliced artichoke bottoms and creamed spinach. A blanket of Hollandaise sauce completes the dish. Light as a feather? Not so much. But light isn't the name of the game here. You can diet when you go home.

Middendorf's Special: Fried Thin Catfish (Middendorf's, Manchac)

And now, the #1 Best Thing I Ate in New Orleans, the single dish I have not been able to shut up about, the stuff culinary dreams are made of: Middendorf's Thin Fried Catfish.

The catfish is sliced unfathomably thin, to the point where it is as if you're eating fried fish chips, or fish filet chicharrones (if something like that existed). I know the term "fried to perfection" is cliché and thrown around all too often, but trust me when I say, this is the epitome of the perfect fry. There is not a trace of grease, and the cornmeal-crusted fish is left impossibly light and crispy, so thin they curl up into ribbons of gold.

To complete the blissdom, the dish is served with hush puppies, French fries, and coleslaw. I was able to find out that the catfish is sourced from Biloxi, Mississippi, but the owners of Middendorf's are so protective about the secrets of Grandma Josie's famous thin fried catfish that not even the employees are privy to knowing how they get it so thin.

Middendorf's is about 45 minutes outside New Orleans, but it is well worth the pilgrimage out to Cajun Country. Even getting there is part of the fun, as you drive past swamplands and drive over a highway that is essentially one long bridge, with lakes on either side of you. And of course, there is promise of the best fried fish you'll ever have at the end of your journey.

Here are ways to celebrate Mardi Gras in the Bay Area.

Presidents Day is not a big food holiday. Sandwiched between the wings-n'-guac of Superbowl Sunday, the noodles and dumplings of the Lunar New Year, and the kings' cake and jambalaya of this Tuesday's Mardi Gras celebrations, this long weekend in February is known more for white sales and ski-resort deals than for anything on the plate. Still, by the highly public and influential nature of the office, every President's personal culinary leanings, however quirky, end up making a cultural impact on our country's food. (Just ask California's broccoli growers, who in 1990 sent 10 tons of the stuff to then-President George H. W. Bush, after the President went on record with his hatred of the vegetable, which he'd banned from meals served on Air Force One.)

For a President, even an innocuous, man-of-the-people gesture like grabbing some Chinese takeout, as Obama did last week at San Francisco's Great Eastern restaurant, can have political repercussions: as soon as word got out about his pork-bun run, reporters noted that Great Eastern in one of a only a few restaurants in the state still serving the California-banned shark fin. Not that the President went for the $48 shark-fin soup; instead, he stuck with a much easier-to-swallow array of buns and dumplings, but the proximity alone was enough to make a story.

Of course, the real Obama food story of the week was the President's private fund-raising dinner, prepared by Quince chef Michael Tusk. The menu--nettle tortelloni; chicken with black salsify, savory cabbage, and chanterelle mushrooms; squash puree; marble potatoes; chocolate cremeux--put the spotlight on local farm produce and products from around the Bay, including cheese from Barinaga Ranch (Marin), vegetables from Marin Roots Farm (Marin), Tierra Farm (Sonoma), Full Belly Farm and Riverdog Farm (Yolo), and dairy from Straus Family Creamery (Marin).

Nettles! For the President! It takes some chutzpah to serve the POTUS what some would call a common stinging weed, despite its off-the-charts nutritional value and minerally, earthy tang. If you want to try making some nettle pasta yourself, you can usually find it for sale at Star Route Farm's stall at both the Ferry Plaza and Marin Civic Center farmers' markets. Or forage it yourself, being sure to wear gloves and harvest only the youngest, tenderest shoots for best results. (Cooking neutralizes the sting, just in case you wondering; this is not something for your raw-food friends.)

But, if you really want to go back to basics, you can look back at the kitchens of our earliest presidents, which were most often staffed by African-Americans. What about our very first President, George Washington, whose February 22 birthday was established as a federal holiday in 1879? (The official observance was shifted to the third Monday in February in 1971, and while Washington's birthday remains a federal holiday, a fuzzier celebration of both Washington and Lincoln's birthdays was later melted into a general Presidents' Day long weekend). Mount Vernon, Washington's home, has a new food-centric exhibit, Hoecakes & Hospitality: Cooking with Martha Washington. But according to writer Ramin Ganeshram, the real star of that 18th-century kitchen was Hercules, the African-American man (and slave), whom she calls George Washington's celebrity chef. Thomas Jefferson was, of course, our most sophisticated President at table, with both a refined palate and a passionate interest in agriculture, farming and gardening on his estate. His kitchen in Monticello was also run by African-American men: first by James Hemings, who travelled with Jefferson to France and trained as a chef there, and then, after James petitioned Jefferson for his freedom, by James' brother Peter.

There's no shortage of food tales spread through the double-plus centuries of the American presidency, from First Lady Dolly Madison's storied introduction of ice cream to her guests to Jacqueline Kennedy's appointment of Rene Vardon, a French chef, as the White House chef. (After a brief, unhappy stint under the Johnson administration, he came to San Francisco and, in 1972, became the chef for Le Trianon, a fine-dining fixture much loved by San Franciscans until its closure in 1987.) For all the hoopla surrounding the Obamas' Alice Waters-inspired vegetable beds on the White House lawn, his obituary last year in the New York Times noted that "He shocked Americans used to canned vegetables and iceberg lettuce by tending his own vegetables on the White House roof and arranging for the White House garden designer to plant herbs in the flowerbeds of the East Garden."

But for me, there's only one real dessert to serve in honor of Presidents Day, and that's something made with cherries, most deliciously cherry pie or cherry cobbler. Did Washington really chop down that cherry tree, then confess to it in a fit of remorse? We'll never know exactly. But it's still a perfect excuse to bake (or buy) a shiny-red, lattice-crusted cherry pie or a sweet, easy biscuit-topped cobbler. Now, to make the best cherry pie, you need sour cherries, smallish and light red, not the big, dark, juicy Bings so good for eating fresh. Luckily for us, sour cherries can well, and are available by the jar or can in many supermarkets and specialty stores. Cobbler, I've found, is a little more forgiving, and can be made beautifully even with frozen sweet cherries. Here's a kid-friendly recipe perfect for snacking on all through the long holiday weekend.

Recipe: Cherry Almond Cobbler
Summary: A light, buttery biscuit dough tops plump, almond-scented cherries, giving a fresh-picked flavor even to frozen fruit.

Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 30-40 minutes
Total Time: 50-60 minutes
Yield: 1 cobbler, serves 6-8

Ingredients
5 cups pitted cherries, fresh or frozen
3 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp cornstarch
juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 tsp almond extract or 1 tsp almond liqueur, such as Amaretto
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 cup sugar
6 tbsp butter (3 oz), frozen in one piece
1/3 cup sliced almonds, lightly toasted
1 cup buttermilk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
a few drops almond extract
Glaze: 1 egg yolk, beaten with 2 tsp water

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Sift 3 tablespoons of sugar and cornstarch together. Toss sugar mixture with cherries, lemon juice, and almond extract. Spread cherry mixture into an 8"x8" baking dish, preferably glass or ceramic. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, sift flour, baking soda and powder, salt, and sugar together. Using the large holes on a box grater, grate butter into flour mixture. Toss grated butter lightly to coat evenly with flour. Add almonds and toss gently to mix.

3. Add half the buttermilk and extracts. Stir lightly to moisten the flour, adding additional buttermilk as needed to make a soft dough.

4. Dollop biscuit dough over fruit; fruit doesn't need to be completely covered. Brush with egg glaze and sprinkle with up to 1 tbsp additional sugar.

5. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, until fruit is bubbling and biscuits are golden brown and cooked through. Let cool until just warm, then serve with vanilla ice cream.

Bergamot Alley interior. Photo: Kena Frank

Stepping through the doors of Bergamot Alley, the newest addition to Healdsburg’s food and wine scene, I’m greeted with a warm hug from the hostess. A long hug. Let me backtrack. I’m from Healdsburg, a fifth-generation rarity who moved to San Francisco almost 10 years ago and only travels back home sporadically. Every time I do, though, I find that another friend, or pair of friends, or group of friends, has opened up or is planning on opening up a cool new spot in my hometown. Bergamot Alley is one of them.

The brainchild of Kevin Wardell, formerly a sommelier at flour + water and A16, and his partner Sarah Johnson, Bergamot Alley looks like it was born of a machine shop and an artistic city-slicker. The lofty space on Healdsburg Avenue was formerly a jumbled antiques mall filled with woodstoves and tractor parts, and the original brick walls have been carefully exposed. The 17-foot ceilings are finished in their original tin from 1896. Because the building is one of Healdsburg’s oldest, Wardell says, it has a certain landmark status that inspired the décor. In the walls: a wooden brick here, a tin patch there, small iron bars jutting out at random angles. The “wallscape” somehow works together, with a collection of air gardens climbing the bricks and vending-machine bouncing balls shoved onto the ends of the iron bars to turn them into functional coat and purse racks. A plaster wall that divides Bergamot Alley from its next-door-neighbor sports decals by Telluride, CO-based artist Nathan Frerichs, the whimsical squid and octopus looking as at home here in the Dry Creek Valley as they would on a T-shirt sold on Haight Street.

Bergamot Alley owners Sarah Johnson and Kevin Wardell. Photo: Kena Frank

Bergamot Alley is intended to be a “bar without a bar,” says Wardell. “There’s no division between the customer and the people who work here,” he says.

“We wanted to have a space that really felt like a community room, where the flow of the people and the energy is uninterrupted by a bar.”

Large, community-style tables that can fit up to 10 people are hand-welded with kick-plates made from WWII-era hot-dog bun baking trays. The chairs are from elementary schools, with taller legs welded to them to elevate the drinker to barstool height. The vibe: all-encompassing and welcoming. Whether you’re a local, a tourist, or a “new local” with a chateau out in the valley and perfectly mucked designer Wellingtons, you’ll feel at home here.

“We wanted to avoid the ‘me versus you’ of the typical bar,” says Wardell.

“That works great for tasting rooms, but we’re inviting a community-based dynamic here.”

In Healdsburg, it's rare for a wine bar to serve non-local wine; to not serve any Californian wine at all is practically sacrilege. Yet that's what Bergamot Alley does! But because of Wardell and Johnson's deep respect for, and involvement in, the local community, their decision to focus on interesting foreign wines is a welcome breath of fresh air through the old-growth Zinfandel vines--not an affront. Aside from an entirely Mediterranean wine list that offers a large selection by the glass, there's a wide selection of microbrewed beers, the Alley's concession to keeping the locavores happy. All draft beers are local, and a medical refrigerator full of eclectic American 750’s and Bombers like Allagash Curieux (Portland, ME), Brother Thelonious (Fort Bragg, CA), and Lagunitas’ Cappuccino Stout (Petaluma, CA) is designed to be self-serve.

Customers are encouraged to grab their own beers as servers bring around stacks of glasses, contributing to the general picnicking atmosphere. Completing the picnic vibe will be a snacking menu, due to debut on March 1.

Some of the best chefs in town, all friends of Wardell, will be contributing to Bergamot Alley’s menu. Expect offerings from the owners of Zazu, Scopa, and Diavola on the “jars and tins,” menu, which will feature items easily shared amongst friends at one of the Alley’s long tables or taken to go with a bottle of semi-sparkling Provenza “Turbiano” Rosato Groppello and enjoyed outdoors at one of the many surrounding wineries’ picnic areas.

The menu will include handmade pickles, pates, rillettes, cheeses, local flatbread crackers, and sweets, as well as imported Mediterranean items like olives and boquerones. The grab-and-go (or grab-and-stay!) menu is designed to be paired with the wines, all of which can be purchased by the bottle and taken with you. Bottles are stacked up eight feet tall on repurposed fitting shelves salvaged from a local machine shop. Wardell's impressive wine list reflects his years of experience as one of San Francisco’s top Italian-wine sommeliers, showcasing wines from all over Italy, France, and “any country that touches the Mediterranean Sea.”

In the “porn room,” (the staff’s affectionate name for the rare & exotic wine room) the rules are not so strict. A repurposed barn door is counterweighted to slide upward on pulleys, leading the oenophile into a naturally-insulated space made from vintage sliding-glass doors. Ninety percent of the wines are sold at a relatively low cost (between $65-$120), a screaming deal for a wine geek who’s looking for an interesting bottle like a 1982 Casetta "Vigna Ausario" Barbaresco with some bottle age on it.

The proprietors’ enthusiasm for community, groovy art, and eclectic wines is expressed in every aspect of Bergamot Alley, from the collaborative efforts put into the funky interior design, the menu offering tastings from their well-known chef friends, and the hugs at the door from a local hostess who seems to know everyone who walks through the door—or will by the time you leave.

Peeking into the "Porn Room." Photos: Kena Frank

Disclaimer: Ella Lawrence worked with Kevin Wardell at A16 restaurant and considers him a close friend.