You know you’re in a food town when the postcard racks stock recipe cards to mail back to your friends. It’s been a long, hot, humid and delicious weekend in New Orleans.

Pacing has been key, of course, from judging just how many blocks a human can walk under intense sun to learning how many meals one can pack into an average day. Thank goodness for brunch to add a nice bite between early breakfast (café au lait and beignets at Café du Monde) and late lunch (roast beef po'boys with extra gravy at Parasol's).

Elizabeth's was at the top of my list, for a single menu item: praline bacon. Suffice to say that shimmering, smoky bacon topped with a crust of brown sugar is a beautiful thing.

Their crispy, hot calas, however, shined as the true star of the meal. This humble fritter -- some leftover rice, a bit of natural yeast, a generous hand with the nutmeg, and a long night of flavorful fermenting –- was once a morning staple in the French Quarter. Women in the late 1800s once walked the streets with large, covered baskets on their heads calling "Madame, mo gaingin calas! Beeelles calas…beeeeelles calas, tou cho, tou cho!" Madame, I have calas! Fine calas, fine calas, very hot, very hot!

All you need to finish a still-hot batch of calas is a snowy sprinkling of powdered sugar. Creative chefs, though, have figured out that a crispy round of rice can be the foundation of many other good things, such as poached eggs or fresh strawberries, as well as a carrier of savory bits of wild rice, sausage, mushrooms or duck confit. For Sunday brunch, a Commander's Palace serves a single, large calas smothered with a Creole courtbouillon of Gulf seafood, perfectly poached eggs and Hollandaise sauce.

Calas depend on a simple batter created out out of need and ingenuity. Creole women had figured out how to make extra money with cooked rice. There are versions now that use dry yeast instead of natural fermentation, and some call for baking powder, a nod to time-pressed cooks. But for the traditional, distinctive flavor (something San Franciscans with their sourdough know well) letting the calas batter rise overnight is not optional. Danno has an excellent recipe on his blog, NOLA Cuisine.

For a taste of classic, ungilded calas, make your way to the Bywater for breakfast or brunch at Elizabeth's. This neighborhood joint, housed in a 100-year-old building next to the train tracks, has comfortable, relaxed dining rooms, and Heidi Trull's home-style, southern specials are a favorite of locals. Meat lovers should not miss the praline bacon nor the beef grillades, tender enough to eat with a spoon and served over creamy grits. A nice rendition of eggs Sardou, a New Orleans original with artichoke hearts, creamed spinach, and Hollandaise, and anything served with their flaky biscuits are also worth sharing. Try, if you can, to save room for dessert. Red velvet, chess pie, and "ooey gooey cake" all beckon enticingly from the glass display case.

ELIZABETH'S
601 Gallier Street (at Charles)
New Orleans, LA 70117
(504) 944-9272

The CCA's Carême Room served its last grand buffet this past Friday. Anyone who has recently driven by that familiar corner of Polk and Turk, with its clumps of white-clad culinary students smoking on the sidewalk, would have suspected as much, what with that huge sign advertising "Building for Lease."

With only 300 students enrolled -- down from a peak of over 2,000 -- it became untenable to sustain two separate facilities. The SF Weekly's exposé last year about the institution's "burnt chefs" is old news. For years already, chefs and kitchen managers (myself included) had banned CCA interns from our kitchens because of their abysmal lack of skills. Still, few of us expected to hear that the grand Polk Street location would be abandoned in favor of the Potrero Hill's cold, unwelcoming space.

Going out in style, the academy hosted a multi-course buffet representing the culinary trends of each decade since their Polk Street kitchens opened. We moved from Salmon Coulibiac to blackened fish, through gooey macaroni and cheese to the "mo-ga" of present fascination (molecular gastronomy, the woman in front of me in line explained).

My husband, gesturing toward one particularly complex and well-executed ballontine, asked me "Is that a turducken?" Even I, with my 12-inch, dimpled-blade slicing knife that I haven't used since my final garde manger class in 1996, had to laugh. There were the usual glistening ice sculpture, two red-meat carving stations, and the ever popular and elaborate dessert table.

Standing before the deeply sculpted, soaring columns of the main dining room, current CCA president, Jennifer White, tried to put a positive spin on the evening. She reminded us that the heart and spirit of the school resides not in the building but rather in those gathered in the room.

The indomitable Chef Hervé Le Biavant, former executive chef (booted out a couple of years ago by the same administrators responsible for the academy's overeager expansion) returned for the evening. Several of us didn't recognize him at first, as he was wearing decidedly civilian clothes rather than his usual spotless whites, but seeing him helped stoke the nostalgic embers.

Every alum has a Chef Hervé story. Mine involves a fingertip cut off in butchery class, and his assurance, in his surprisingly un-gruff school nurse role, that I didn't need to go to the emergency room. He wrapped an extra Band-aid then a finger cot around my forefinger, advised me to be more careful when scraping around chicken bones with a flexible blade, and then told me to get back to class. Amazingly, my fingertip grew back, though there's a bit of a dent in the nail to remind me of my deboning lesson: a fancy knife is only as good as the person who uses it.

Next Course
Their new restaurant, Carême 350, opens on Wednesday, May 28. Enjoy 25% off if you bring one guest, 50% off if you bring two guests, and 75% off if you bring three or more guests. Discount is only valid on Wednesday, May 28, only between the hours of 11:30-am and 1 pm. Discount will be deducted from the total bill.

On Thursday, June 5 they'll be serving a special lunch and dinner menu: 3 1/2 courses for $3.50. Not sure what half a course is, but if anyone can deliver half of what's expected, the CCA certainly can.

Carême 350
350 Rhode Island (at 16th Street)
San Francisco, CA
(415) 216-4329
Lunch: 11:30 am – 1:00 pm
Dinner: 6:00 pm – 8 pm
Grand buffet every Friday

You know when you take a bite of something and you realize that this is a taste you are going to crave? Like salted caramel ice cream at Bi-Rite Creamery. It's usually something you can't get just anywhere. For me it often happens when I'm traveling somewhere and I won't easily find that taste again back home. Like the Middlewhite bacon sandwich at St. John's in London (on homemade bread with homemade ketchup, don't knock it til you try it), which my husband and I often wistfully talk about. Or, more recently, the most perfect shrimp po-boy from New Orleans.

A few weeks ago I went to New Orleans, a city I adore and which I've visited many times while growing up in Texas, but where I had not returned for at least 8 years. This was my first visit post-Katrina, and it ended up being one of the most meaningful, eye-opening, and intense experiences I've had while traveling (more on that in another post when I've had a chance to digest it all). For me, most of what makes New Orleans so special are the people who live there and their generous and kind spirit. With all that they've been through, they still carry on with the most positive attitude, full of Southern hospitality. It's obvious every time you go to a restaurant or a bar and they serve up some authentic New Orleans cuisine, welcoming, gracious, and always happy to have you there.

On the advice of a few locals, we headed over to Domilise's Po-Boy & Bar for one of the best po-boys in town. Tucked away in a residential area, we almost drove by the nondescript corner restaurant. It's all that you might expect from a divey po-boy shop, the deep fryer and sandwich station on one wall, the bar on the other, and a handful of tables scattered in between. The line moves swiftly, and then you have to jostle for a table before your name is called and your sandwich comes out. In keeping with the old-time Southern feel, the drinks on offer include bottled Barq's root beer and crème soda.

We were told that their specialty was the "1/2 and 1/2 dressed." Huh? 1/2 fried shrimp, 1/2 fried oysters. "Dressed" means slathered with mayo, creole mustard, ketchup, and topped with shredded lettuce and pickles. There is nothing light or healthy here, so if you are looking for that, you should go elsewhere.

Not being a huge fan of fried oysters (I like mine raw), I went for the shrimp po-boy dressed (although my friend did order the 1/2 and 1/2, which only comes in a large size, and amazed us all by eating the whole thing). It was incredible, and we were not disappointed. I knew one bite in that I was done for. Fresh, crisp-fried shrimp that burst in your mouth with flavor, real Gulf shrimp that you just can't get out here on the west coast. Light, airy crisp-on-the-outside French bread--oozing with the perfect amount of condiments--held it all together. I knew that I would return to the Bay Area and think about that sandwich, and wish I could just pop on over to Domilise's and get another. I'm thinking about it right now actually. My friend Amy emailed me a week to the day that we went and reminded me of the sandwich, and how she wished she had one RIGHT NOW. It's going to be a problem, I can tell.

So I decided to try to reconstruct one from memory. It won't be the same. I don't have the sweet old guy behind the bar asking, "What can I get you sweetie?" Or the friendly folks around us smiling and chatting with us, or the smell of the fresh seafood being deep fried, or that perfect taste that I crave when it all came together one day in New Orleans.

A Dressed Shrimp Po-boy

Serves 4

Ingredients
For the shrimp:
Peanut oil for frying
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup cornflour
1 egg
1 1/2 lbs medium shrimp, peeled and deveined

For the sandwiches:
4 soft white French rolls (New Orleans style), split in half and warmed in the oven
Mayo
Creole mustard
Ketchup
About 2 cups shredded iceberg lettuce
Dill pickle slices

Preparation
1. In a medium saucepan, add enough oil so that it is 1/2-inch deep. Heat to 375 F.

2. Have ready three shallow bowls. In bowl #1, put about 1/2 cup flour. In bowl #2, crack the egg and whisk it until frothy. In bowl #3, stir together about 1/2 cup cornflour with about 1/4 cup flour. Rinse and dry the shrimp. Dredge them first in the flour, then in egg, then in the cornflour mixture.

3. Add the shrimp, in batches to avoid overcrowding, and fry just until golden brown. Set aside to drain on a paper-towel lined plate.

4. Spread each side of the bread with mayo, then creole mustard. Layer the fried shrimp, a squirt of ketchup, the lettuce, and then the pickle slices on the sandwich. Eat it up!

Domilise's Po-Boy & Bar
5240 Annunciation St.
New Orleans, LA
504-899-9126
map

A small way that you can help:
The Southern Food and Beverage Museum, located in New Orleans, lost over half its collection of cookbooks in Katrina. They are trying to rebuild their collection through donations across the country. If you have cookbooks on the American South or cuisines and cultures that have influenced the cuisine of that region; community-based cookbooks or pamphlets; culinary histories; or any cuisine-based books that you think they might be interested in, please send them to:

Southern Food & Beverage Museum
Attn: Liz Williams
1 Poydras Street, #169
New Orleans, Louisiana 70130

Okay, Green Chile Kitchen? We're going to have a little chat, and I'm going to talk and you're going to listen, 'kay?

We've been going to and loving you for quite some time now. We are, quite possibly, your best customers. Hell, one of your checkout chicks commented to my husband, "You haven't been here in awhile!" (Quite true, we hadn't, but she noticed which was awesome!) Also, even if you don't have caller ID, there's no way you don't identify us as, "those weird people who order the same salad every time -- you know, the ones who always, always want their fifth ingredient to just be more [redacted]?"

You are a feast for us as much as you are a comfort. We revel in your fresh greens, we approve of your new and spicier guacamole, and we laud your Niman Ranchiness. (Sidetrack: Is it just me or is Niman Ranch sort of over? I mean, yes, it's undeniably good stuff, but I think the most sought-after meat names these days are not the ones that are known across the country. We're such spoiled Californians.)

So I say this with love: GET ANOTHER FREAKING REGISTER! Seriously? Waiting in line to pick up a take-out order behind all those baked witlings, who have wrapped themselves in blankets after spending the entire day in Alamo Square Park in order to smoke away every single synapse and then come to GCK, not knowing what the hell they want to order because they got distracted by a shiny object while standing in line and then try to inveigle your eminently patient checkout chicks in deep discussions about her back tattooes, all while my crispy tacos get so decidedly UNcrispy that they sog their bottoms out when I pick them up, well, there is a limit.

You always do apologize, probably both for the long wait and idiot customers, but still, can we talk about solutions here? Please?

TWO REGISTERS! One for orders made there and for those intending to eat-in, and the other to ring up and dispense take-out orders. Plus, even if there aren't enough take-out orders at any given time to merit the other register, at least the line can be filtered over to a second reg, rendering the wait shorter and ALL of our lives easier.

Seriously. I really just want this to work out.

This was supposed to be an easy-does-it post...

Go to Coffee Bar. Go to Coffee Bar to get a beautiful, just-for-you cup of Clover-made coffee. Go to Coffee Bar because it is not Starbucks, which, not surprisingly, is just around the corner.

And then, upon my second trip into the place, I bugged the barista into letting me take pictures of my coffee being made:

202 Degree F. water goes in, barista stirs with care...

Machine works like a big French Press in reverse and makes what looks like a giant, overbaked sugar cookie...

Out comes one of the best cups of coffee I've ever had...

Blah, blah, blah...

Well, I thought, spending more than $10,000 on a coffee machine is so absolutely worth it! And so is the $3.00 charged per cup. Really.

I still think so. If you are a coffee lover and have not had Clover coffee, I suggest you do so. Now.

I was feeling so self-satisfied. I'd had a long, pleasant walk, I was in a sleek, beautiful space with a good book clutched under my arm, and I was being very well caffeinated by a cup of coffee so strong and well balanced, that I felt no need to add sugar or cream, which is atypical of my style. I normally drink kindercafe in the morning. I had everything I needed for a good half hour's rest-and-refuel.

And then the barista told me that Starbucks had recently bought the company that makes the Clover machine. I felt as though the Publisher's Clearing House van had just pulled up to my house and, as Ed McMahon was about to hand me my bouquet of balloons and over-sized check, my doctor telephones me to tell me I have only two weeks to live. A certain bitterness crept into my otherwise perfect cup of coffee. I think it was my tears. Or perhaps some of the bile that rose from my esophagus as I tried to digest the news.

Perhaps Starbucks saved enough money from the tips they stole from their baristas to buy Clover's soul.

I suppose a small consolation is that Coffee Bar was able to purchase its Clover before Starbucks wrapped its caffeinated tentacles around it. And that it's very much worth experiencing.

I also love the fact that the folks at Coffee Bar are pleasant, helpful, and relatively no-nonsense about their coffee. Their coffee menu is simple:

Sorry, Yelp woman, no cinnamon. Bring your own if it's that much of an issue for you.

Remind me later to tell you about my mixed feelings about Yelp.

Go to Coffee Bar for a nice, big cup of this:

Nuff said.

Coffee Bar
Open Daily from 7 am
1890 Bryant Street
(Mariposa and Florida)
San Francisco, CA
94110
415-551-8100

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I stupidly made our reservation for 7:15pm, not even considering the fact that we might have wanted to see the magnificent Big Sur sunset from our perch at Nepenthe. (Sunset is currently at 7:27pm). I know, I know, kind of a cliché Big Sur "thing to do" but it was my husband's very first trip to the magical little coastal town of Big Sur and we were celebrating his 1-year anniversary of moving to the United States.

Upon recommendation from one of his basketball buddies, I had booked a table at the Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant, a little gem that apparently has been around for awhile, but which I'd never noticed or even heard of (even though I've been to Big Sur countless times.

It was an unseasonably warm evening and when we arrived the light was dusky and purple across the mountains behind us. The restaurant, even though it has quite a few windows, is cozy and dark and would make an excellent refuge from the typically foggy chilly weather I associate with that part of the coast.

It wasn't terribly busy, but it did take quite some time for the waitstaff/owner/host to work out where we'd be seated. Don't get me wrong, everyone was exceedingly friendly the entire evening, but it was a bit of foreshadowing to a night of slightly confused service. (Just to explain before I go on, there were a few instances of forgetfulness, and a general lack of confidence by the waitstaff; the restaurant could benefit from clarifying everyone's roles and responsibilities.)

Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant has a wood-fire oven which takes center stage on the menu. They base much of their seasonal, organic menu on dishes that can be baked, roasted, or braised in the oven. They also have a wood-fired grill.

The menu--which seems to change monthly--offers a handful of interesting salads and starters, five different pizzas (which looked amazing and which we vowed to try upon our return, and yes we will certainly be returning), a whole smattering of vegetable dishes (vegetarians take note: this place is an excellent choice for anyone who doesn't eat meat), and a well-thought-out selection of mains. In addition, there were two additional starters and mains on offer.

We started with one of the salad specials, a mound of microgreens grown and harvested just behind the restaurant, tender spring fava beans, baby asparagus, and fresh peas all lightly dressed with carrot-ginger vinaigrette. It was incredibly fresh, springtime on a plate. We also had a gorgeous salad of butter lettuce, microgreens, shaved fennel, pecorino, tarragon and lemon vinaigrette, which was perfectly balanced with fresh, tangy, sweet, and salty flavors.

The star of the evening had to be our main-dish special though: rabbit in the wood-fire oven, cooked two ways: roasted saddle of rabbit wrapped in Serrano ham and braised whole leg in au jus; served with French white beans, pancetta, carrots, and braised greens. It was so good in fact that we couldn't help but tell the tables next to us that they must order it. We also shared a grilled flatiron steak with red wine gravy and smashed Yukon gold potatoes, carrots, and braised fennel. The steak was tender and deeply flavored, but was a bit on the rare side (we had ordered medium-rare). The potatoes were a good choice, but neither of us loved the fennel and thought that could have been left out of the mix.

The wine list leans toward offerings from the central coast, with additional French and Italian wines. There are a decent number of wines available for under $40, but the prices go up rather quickly from there. We chose a gorgeous medium-bodied earthy Sicilian nero d'avola. Granted it was a abnormally warm evening, but the wine was served slightly on the warm side, a big peeve of mine. But the staff gladly chilled the wine for a minute and then it was perfect.

We finished with a brown butter rhubarb tart with brown butter ice cream and a tangy lemon pudding cake with lemon sorbet and huckleberries, both of which were perfect marriages of winter flavors (brown butter and citrus) meet early springtime fruits (rhubarb and huckleberries). We ordered a light moscato to pair alongside the dessert, but even though we reminded the waiter when the dishes arrived, the wine never did. Well, it did but only after we were long finished.

If you can get past the service not being spot on, which in my opinion you should, and accept some less polished occasional missteps (but always with a smile and an apology!), then Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant has a lot to offer. Romantic, tucked away, local and seasonal, and most of all superbly delicious.

Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant
Highway One
Big Sur, CA 93920
831.667.0520
map

A chilly Spring has me longing for a tropical vacation. One way to get a little taste of the islands in our own backyard is to dine at Roy's. Chef Roy Yamaguchi is one of the most influential and well-respected Hawaiian chefs. His style of fusion cuisine combines Asian, French and Hawaiian ingredients and techniques. He is Hawaii's first James Beard award-winner and this year his restaurants are celebrating their 20th year with special dinners.

Tomorrow's 20th anniversary dinner takes place at the San Francisco Roy's, with Roy at the helm. Local and Hawaiian ingredients will be featured with a particular emphasis on sustainable seafood and a portion of proceeds will go to Grow for Good, a national initiative dedicated to supporting local farms and encouraging sustainable agriculture.

amuse buche
Shiro-Shoyu Marinated Kona Kampachi "Nigiri"--sustainable princess conch, tri-color tobiko & Kumamoto oysters--Perrier Jouet Grand Brut

first course
Kona Lobster Ceviche--California avocado and halibut turtle shell, --organic watermelon radish, Cara Cara oranges
Jacob's Creek Riesling

second course
Organic Sausalito Springs Watercress & Red Kaiware Sprout Salad
goat cheese, Sparrow Lane Napa walnut vinaigrette --Brancott Sauvignon Blanc

third course
Japanese Wagyu Topped Niman Ranch Top Sirloin--Delta asparagus, red Irish potatoes, Sebastopol mushrooms
Jacob's Creek Reserve Shiraz

fourth course
Hawaiian Vanilla & Rum Infused "Baba"--Berkeley Farms sweet cream--Sandeman
Tawny 20 Year Port

What: Roy's 20th Anniversary Dinner
Cost: Tickets are $100 (excludes tax & gratuity)
When: Thursday April 10th, Seating from 5:00 to 9:30 pm
Where: Roy's is located at 575 Mission Street in San Francisco
More: The evening will also include performance by Hawaiian dancers and Patrick Landeza
How: To make your reservation for this special event, please call 415.777.0277

Another sweet event, literally, is a pairing of wine and chocolate at local chocolate shop, Cocoa Bella.

Head over to Cocoa Bella Chocolates on Union Street for the first Wine and Chocolate Soire. They'll be offering a six-piece tasting of favorite American and European chocolates paired with a 3-glass selection of sparkling and dessert wines. The staff will be on hand to discuss how to match up your favorite bonbons with port, Madeira, and other after-dinner drinks. Each attendee will go home with a 2-piece box of complimentary chocolates chosen from the evening's special selection.

Space is limited, so make your reservations now. Reserved tickets can be paid for at the door. Some additional tickets may be available on the night of the event, but advance reservations are encouraged to ensure your space at this entertaining and informative event.

What: Wine & Chocolate Soiree
Cost: $40 per person
When: Thursday, April 10, 2008, 7 PM - 9 PM
Where: Cocoa Bella Chocolates, 2102 Union St at Webster, San Francisco
More: Includes 6-piece chocolate tasting, 3 glasses of selected wines, and complimentary 2-piece chocolate box
How: For reservations, call (415) 931-6213 or email cocoabellachocolates@yahoo.com
Additional tickets may be available at the door

"The chestnut soup was good, but not Bar Jules good," a friend told me the other day. She was referring to a delicious chestnut and farro soup that we'd eaten at Bar Jules a couple of months back.

In the time since Bar Jules opened in December, it has quickly become a place that I recommend to friends -- especially for its lovely weekend brunches. Chef Jessica Bonecutter is known around San Francisco, having chefed at Hog Island Oyster Bar and Zuni Cafe.

Bar Jules has a stated commitment to sustainable practices and is buying most of their ingredients from local farmers and sustainable sources.

Entering Bar Jules, you will find several large chalkboards with the day's menu instead of paper menus. The small menu changes on a daily basis and is dependent on seasonal availability. As Sam of Becks and Posh stated, "because of the limited options, this is not the place to take a fussy eater."

If you're not fussy, however, delights will abound. I seriously mourned the day that Desiree, my favorite breakfast location in the Presidio, closed a couple of years ago -- mostly because of their perfectly cooked eggs. The brunch that I had at Bar Jules came close to Desiree's taste -- scrambled eggs with sorrel and parmesan were on the menu the morning I went. While those were delicious, the hit of the table was poached eggs with lamb.

Last week, I returned to Bar Jules for lunch. I loved the "mussels on the grill with paprika, garlic & lemon" ($12). The mussels had a deep roasted flavor. I requested bread to dip into my mussel juices, and was given a perfectly grilled toast which went perfectly with the dish.

Even the drinks at Bar Jules are special. Beer and wine are available, along with a lovely rosebud tea, Blue Bottle Coffee and seasonal juices -- last week I had a delicious pomegranate spritzer.

The Bar Jules menu changes daily, but the staff meticulously updates their web page with the most current menu and prices. Bar Jules does not take reservations.

Common Ground on Bar Jules' sustainability practices

Bar Jules
609 Hayes Street (at Laguna)
San Francisco
415-621-5482

Dinner, Tuesday - Saturday
Lunch, Wednesday - Saturday
Brunch, Sundays
Closed Mondays

Dear Miss Manners,

"When dining, does one place one's Blackberry to the right of the plate, or to the left, near the salad fork?"

The answer to this unsent question is, of course, never. I don't care if you're the Pope. Of course, popes don't use Blackberries. They use people who use Blackberries.

Hey there, Mr. Business Guy. Ho there, Little Miss Connectivity. You want to see a hand held device appropriate for restaurant use? Look down and to your right, it's called a table knife.

It looks a lot like the one with which I'll impale your (expletive) PDA if you use it one more time during your meal.

At some point a decade or so ago, P.D.A. went from meaning an improper "public display of affection" to "personal digital assistant." The employment of either P.D.A. is rude at the table, displaying a certain lack of respect for your dining companions. Would you like to watch your mother give good old dad a hand job during the salad course? No? Then what makes you think they want to see you texting friends or fielding phone calls over dessert?

It's not just Blackberries. Last night, I watched as two men ate dinner together. Not such a strange occurrence, except for the fact that one of the men did not take his iPod headphones out of his ears for the entire duration of the meal.

I saw a woman who was so busy texting someone as she walked through our very busy dining room that she hit the chair of a man who was rising from his seat. There was no, "Excuse me, I'm sorry," from her. She didn't even bother to look up. I was tempted to trip her to see what it might take to make her drop her machine.

It's certainly annoying when I have to repeat a litany of specials to guests who are too busy on their phones to pay attention to me, but I take that as part of my job. After describing something a second time (unless there is a genuine communication problem), I consider myself done.

But I'd be happy to text you about today's whole fish, if you like, you self-involved (expletive).

Like I said, it's an annoying aspect of my job, and I deal with that type of rudeness in my own way. What I find so terrible about all this abuse of take-it-with-you technology is the toll I see it taking on the other diners, and on basic human interaction in general.

For example, on Tuesday evening, I waited upon a young woman, her boyfriend, and her mother. The young woman kept her Blackberry on the table to her right. She'd eye it occasionally as her mother or her French boyfriend spoke. When dessert time rolled around and I came over to the table, the boyfriend said they had made their selections. The girl didn't take her cue to order because she was busy texting someone. He gave her a soft, sing-songy "Heeeey!" and waved his hand in front of her face as one does when one is uncertain of another's consciousness. She pulled away like a sulky toddler. I could see the mother squirm. I felt terrible for the boyfriend, but I wanted to smack the girl. Hard.

What's getting me so angry is that no one is doing a god damned thing about it. As a server, it's not my responsibility to teach people lessons in manners. At the restaurant, I will just give you a wan smile if you misbehave, though some days the urge is more difficult to resist than others.

I am not seeing the recipients of this technological rudeness-- the boyfriends, the business clients, the parents-- call these idiots to task about this bad behavior. Maybe it's because they themselves are too polite to say anything. Whatever the case, their silence is sending a very bad sub-text message.

How long has this complacency been going on? Not forever, fortunately...

True Hollywood story--

In the days when cell phones were called mobile phones and still somewhat of a novelty, John Lovitz, Julianne Moore, Phil Hartman, and two people I did not recognize sat down at a booth in my section of the slick Beverly Hills eatery I worked in while at university. Mr. Hartman entered talking on his phone. When I approached the table, I asked quietly if I should come back when he had finished. Miss Moore nodded. Perhaps, I thought, it was a very important phone call.

After a while, it became quite clear to me that he was just yammering away on his new gadget, rudely ignoring his dining companions, but I stayed away from the table, nevertheless.

After a few more minutes, Miss Moore motioned me over to the table. She quietly asked for a piece of paper and a pen. When she had finished scribbling, she handed the paper back to me with a "thank you" and a sidelong glance at Mr. Hartman. I nodded and excused myself to read the note. On the paper were Mr. Hartman's name, his phone number, and instructions for me to call him.

I marched over to the hostess stand at the front of the restaurant, dialed the number, and held my breath. He answered up my call with an abrupt, "Yeah?"

"Mr. Hartman? This is your waiter, I was just wondering if you'd decided on your order yet..."

Silence greeted me on the other end. Then a loud burst of laughter from both the receiver and the back of the restaurant. When I returned to the booth, Moore beamed, Hartman glowered. Fortunately, Moore picked up the check.

My love for her has never wavered since.

I think what the world needs now is more people like Julianne Moore. I'd suggest putting her at every dinner table in America if I didn't think it would be both exhausting and physically impossible. I'm sure she's busy enough as it is.

My point, of course, is that she got it. And she found a way to correct the bad behavior that was both funny and very effective.

I think that's what we all need to do.

I realize I've done a lot of name-calling this morning. I don't necessarily think the perpetrators are bad people, but their behavior is soul-killing. You want to invest in some great personal connectivity devices? How about turning off your iPhone for two hours and start using some eye contact instead? Face-to-face communication is far more effective than interface-to-interface.

As TennisPeter from Andover, Mass commented at Ask Annie, "Checking your Blackberry 24/7 doesn't make you important. It means you are insecure and lack the confidence to say, 'I'm not working right now.' " I am inclined to agree.

Oh, and while I'm on a rant, take that ridiculous Bluetooth thing out of your ear. It makes you look like some crazy homeless person who happened upon a dumpster filled with business casual clothing in his size. Sometimes, I like to pretend that these devices are hearing aids. I mouth my words with care-- slowly and with volume. And then I tilt my head and smile at the wearer in a way that says, "See? I'm sensitive to your special needs."

Can you hear me now?

I feel much better getting that off my chest. There is, however, one little favor I'd like you to do for me...

The next time you dine with the technology-addicted, kindly remind them that, for at least the duration of the meal, the phone gets locked back in its cell, the "i" retreats to its Pod, and the only blackberries allowed on the table have been baked into a cobbler. Smile when you say it.

If that doesn't work, gently place a ball peen hammer next to you on the table. Every time your tablemate touches his or her device, gently finger your hammer. If they pick up their phone, you pick up your hammer, and so on.

I think that might be one message they're sure not to miss.

The Ahwahnee is a special place for me. My husband proposed to me while cross-country skiing in the Yosemite Valley meadow and we ate at the Ahwahnee that night. A year or so later we then got married at the Ahwahnee and had our reception in the Solarium behind the Great Lounge. I love the architecture, Native American art and tapestries, and, of course, those amazing views of Yosemite Valley from every window. I also love eating in their dining room.

The Ahwahnee was built in 1927, and since that time has offered visitors a fine dining (and hotel) experience in this treasure of a National park. The hotel and dining room itself are architecturally magnificent, with high wood-beamed ceilings, stone pillars, enormous windows looking out onto the valley and the enormous granite cliffs above it, and candles hung from immense candelabras. A large Steinway piano sits along one side and the restaurant offers music during dinner and special events. On our last visit, the piano player was kind enough to include renditions of Puff the Magic Dragon and the theme to Harry Potter, which delighted my daughters, along with some nice Cole Porter and Duke Ellington pieces.

In addition to the views, architecture and ambiance, one of the things I appreciate about the Ahwahnee dining room is that they make an effort to offer organic and locally-grown ingredients. When I was there last week, the dinner menu had a paragraph at the bottom that said "We are proud to present our seasonal dinner menu featuring both organic and sustainably harvested products. We source our meats and produce as local as possible and serve seafood listed on the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch List as 'Best Choices' or 'Good Alternatives.' Delaware North Companies Parks and Resorts is strongly committed to working in harmony with our environment to better service our guests." Last week, the menu included local chicken, trout from nearby streams, rabbit from the neighboring community of Turlock, and grass-fed beef. They also include some sample menus online.

I have eaten at the Ahwahnee probably just under 10 times. I've had breakfast, lunch and dinner there and have always enjoyed my meal. My family and I were in Yosemite last week and spent an evening dining at the Ahwahnee followed by board games in the Great Lounge before we shuffled back to our accommodations at the Yosemite Lodge. We got to the dining room right when it opened for dinner. They sat us at a beautiful table near the back and next to a large window. Technically, long pants and jackets are required for men, but we saw plenty of people being ushered in wearing jeans and t-shirts. In some online reviews I read, a few people were irritated that the dining staff sat people who weren't dressed according to the rules, but this has never bothered me. The hotel is in a National park and I like that they don't get too caught up in the ceremony of how one is supposed to dress for dinner. Also, I've seen men seated at many other nice restaurants without jackets, so I can't get irritated about this happening in Yosemite.

During our dining experience last week, my husband and I decided that after a day of skiing at Badger Pass, we were too tired to split a bottle of wine, so we each ordered a glass from the wine menu. I then chose to start my dinner with a baby iceberg lettuce wedge that had Chiogga beets, shaved onion, and Point Reyes blue cheese dressing. The salad was crisp, the dressing creamy and sharp without being overt, and the beets were sweet and perfectly cooked. My husband ordered the Caesar salad, which looked equally delicious, although I was so focused on my own salad that I forgot to take a bite. Our daughters, who ordered from the children's menu, each received a very pretty fruit cup.

For dinner, I ordered the Braised Snake River Farms Kobe beef cheeks. I was surprised and excited when I found that they served the cheeks two ways on the plate. One piece was cooked to the point of falling apart, in some sort of reddish sauce and served on top of an heirloom squash puree. I asked our waiter what was in the sauce, but he wasn't sure. The other beef cheek was also braised, although it held its shape and was firmer than the other one. It was served with a garlic and tomato jam, which was sweet and a perfect accompaniment to the beef, and sat atop a mound of creamed spinach. Unlike most creamed spinach, which is often gloppy, this version seemed just barely cooked within the sauce, with each leaf retaining its shape and texture. It was delicious. In between the two beef cheeks were some shaved and fried parsnips, adding a crunchy and slightly salty accent to the other flavors on the plate. Overall, this was a great entrée and I really loved it.

My husband ordered the braised Niman pork osso bucco served with a soft polenta and cauliflower, which was also delicious (although I must say I think the beef cheeks were better). For our daughters, we went with the kids breaded chicken tenders. I normally hate kids' menu chicken tenders, because they are often processed bits of chicken with a tasteless coating. The Ahwahnee's chicken tenders, however, were in a kids-menu class all their own. They were real chicken breast tenders coated in a flavorful crust similar to the kind you'd find on a nice piece of fried chicken.

For dessert, I had a chocolate flourless cake embedded in a chilled chocolate ganache and served with ice cream. Although it was delicious (and very pretty on the plate) it was incredibly rich and I could only eat a few bites.

My husband ordered the boysenberry pie, which had a nicely crisp crust and great berry flavor. All the entrées were between $25 - $46. Our total bill, which included our salads, meals and desserts, along with two glasses of wine and three glasses of juice for the kids, was $140.

On each of our visits, I've found the service to be friendly and professional. The waiters sometimes are not fully informed about the food and, on a busy night, the attention you get can be a little spotty, but this doesn't bother me as the service has never been bad and I'm there for the experience of eating in a beautiful historic hotel under half dome. The staff has also always been very friendly to my children, which I appreciate.

The Ahwahnee Dining Room offers daily breakfast, lunch and dinner, along with an elaborate Sunday Brunch. They also have a few yearly dining extravaganzas, such as the Bracebridge Dinner each December, which is a four-hour Renaissance pageant in the dining room that includes an elaborate seven-course banquet. I've always thought this would be sort of fun to attend, but the cost is a bit much. A package deal that includes a two-night stay at the Ahwahnee along with the Bracebridge Dinner is $1,634 for two people. If you stay at the Yosemite Lodge, it's $1,126. With four people in my family, we won't be going any time soon.

So if you find yourself in Yosemite, and have a little spare cash for your next meal, try the Ahwahnee dining room. It is truly an experience worth having.

For more information about the Ahwahnee, or to make reservations, just go to their web site, or call (209) 372-1489.