Owner Harmony Fraga behind the bar at The Social Study

Part café, part wine bar, The Social Study, is the latest addition to the spate of new venues opening up in the Lower Fillmore neighborhood, and will be sure to delight coffee and jazz lovers across the city.

Serving locally-roasted Four Barrel espresso and coffee as of January 11, the groovy lounge fills a long-vacant space formerly occupied by a cannabis club on the corner of Geary at Fillmore behind Won Mi Korean BBQ. I stopped by the day after it opened on the advice of a friend who works next door and immediately wished that I could spend all day working in this café rather than in an office downtown. The high, vaulted ceilings have windows that go almost all the way up the walls, letting in plenty of light for such a small storefront.

Stepping through the almost unmarked front door (luckily, a sandwich board points thirsty guests in the right direction), my first impression transported me directly to my grandfather’s library. A long community table that could seat 10-12 people is just inside the tall front windows and the rest of the space features a unique take on bar tables -- the entire wall from the front door to the back of the lounge is covered with a quilted blue faux leather, out of which seats and tables fold out down (think 1960s airline jump seats).

Along the top of the wall, behind the register, running along the beams of the exposed brick wall on the other side of the building, and decorating many of the open spaces are books, books, and more books. A varied library that includes titles from all genres is available for leisure reading while hanging out in the café, and free wi-fi will sustain those who can’t bear to leave their laptops at home during coffee time.

In the mornings, The Social Study serves homemade pastries like crumpets, croissants, sticky buns, and one-mouthful-only chocolate croissant bites. The small selection is a testament to the tastiness of the pastries (on a foggy Thursday morning there were only a few pastries left by 10:15am): large, fresh pecans stud the glistening top of a caramelized sticky roll, and the slightly uneven texture of the croissants promises a hand-rolled, fresh-baked taste that doesn’t disappoint. Owner Harmony Fraga, East Bay native and former bar manager of Farmer Brown, plans to bring in a larger selection of pastries soon, but until she finds the perfect combination (great taste, made in San Francisco, preferably in her neighborhood, with fresh, local ingredients) The Social Study is baking their own.

But it’s not all coffee and pastries at The Social Study. Like any good European-influenced café, the place gets livelier as the day wears on. Beer, wine, and house-made sangria replace morning beverages, and the menu gets an upgrade starting in the afternoon. “Study Snacks” like charcuterie and cheese boards go great with a draught Guinness, and roasted fingerling potatoes are a healthy (and local!) alternative to the fast food French fries available a little bit lower down Fillmore street.

"Study Snacks." Photo: The Social Study

The record covers that adorn the walls are more than just decoration: The Social Study has a serious collection of vinyl. From jazz to R&B to hip-hop and Motown, the record library is as varied as its library counterpart, and the music in the café does a great job of matching the ever-shifting mood of the neighborhood.

The pace picks up even more on Friday nights, when live music takes the place of the vinyl selection and DJ Doc Fu steps behind the turntables. More music is promised, too--there’s been talk of a live house band (called Hot Pocket) playing in the lofted area above the main floor on Saturday nights. Although The Social Study doesn’t have a full liquor license (though Fraga says that’s in the works, along with a regular movie-screening night), I think it’s kind of nice. A beer and wine bar is a mellow addition to what can be a rowdy part of town, and when you want to step out for a cozy bite in a place that feels like an extension of your own living room (and face it, who can afford a place with an actual living room near Fillmore street?), The Social Study is just the place to be.

The Social Study
Address: Map
1795 Geary Blvd., San Francisco, CA 94115
415.292.7417
Open daily, 8am-11pm.

I had never tried an Ike's Place sandwich until this past Friday night. I had, of course, heard about the infamous original location and its long lines of patrons sparking drama in San Francisco -- so much so that the hubbub even made it into the pages of The New York Times. But by the time the dust had settled and they comfortably settled into a new space, then opened other locations, it had fallen off my radar.

But then I heard the good word that an Ike's Lair was coming to the Uptown District of Oakland, right in Franklin Square.

With Plum, Plum Bar and Bakesale Betty's second location as neighbors, and Hawker Fare, Trueburger and Luka's Taproom & Lounge nearby, it's a burgeoning food enclave that's drawing lots of attention. Here was my easy opportunity to finally taste one of Ike's creations for myself.

Ike's Lair opened its doors in late January (its website doesn't reflect its Oakland location yet), a bright space with cartoon renditions of a devilishly grinning Ike at every turn. And there's their slogan writ large on one wall:

Ike's Lair has a smaller menu than its San Francisco counterpart, but it's still daunting. It took my husband (a fellow Ike's newbie) and I a full 10 minutes to study the extensive menu. (It reminded me of the first time I went to Shopsin's in New York City, which probably has the most mind-blowing menu in the world.)

We opted for four half-size sandwiches (all priced at $5.95) to get a good sampling of its offerings: the SF Giants pitcher-inspired Matt Cain (roast beef, turkey, salami, Godfather sauce, Provolone cheese); Paul Reubens (the real name of the actor who portrays "Pee-Wee Herman") with pastrami, homemade poppy seed coleslaw, French dressing, Swiss cheese; The Bakesale (their nod to Bakesale Betty's fried-chicken sandwich with American cheese); and the Meatless Mike with vegan meatballs, marinara sauce and pepper jack cheese. I had originally ordered the (co-founder of Yelp) Jeremy Stoppelman sandwich (breaded eggplant, green pesto, habanero, grilled tomato, Provolone cheese), but alas, they had run out of eggplant.

We went with the standard toppings (lettuce, tomato, and their creamy Dirty Secret Sauce that's like an aioli but more herbaceous) and none of the "extra dirty" options of mozzarella sticks or jalapeño poppers since we didn't want to get too decadent on our first trip to Ike's. Same for the beer-battered onion rings and zucchini. Checking out other people's orders, though, they looked tempting -- as did the Cake Monkey pastries in the case.

There's no indoor seating at Ike's, but there's plenty of room out front. I'm sure it'll be packed in warmer weather.

On our way back to our place, I overheard some folks say, "There's always a huge line at lunchtime that goes down the block." I guess this location shares the same busy crowds as the SF mothership, but as we're in the Bay Area -- Ike's has smartphone apps that you can use to place your orders ahead of time. (I'm sure this will come in handy on Superbowl Sunday; I imagine Ike's will be racking up a lot of business that day to feed hungry football fans at parties.)

By the time we got home, I was starving. I think I wolfed down the delicious The Meatless Mike, which I had ordered on their Dutch crunch roll, in less than a minute.

The Bakesale, however, was a pretty weak homage to its predecessor and won't give it a run for its money anytime soon. Unlike Betty's esteemed sandwich, this had a small slab of limply fried chicken that sorely needed the spicy, vinegary tang of her coleslaw.

My husband had the same reaction to the Matt Cain, which he thought was a pretty average combination of flavors. Good, not great.

The Paul Reubens was quite tasty, though, and the best of the bunch. I'd definitely go back for that.

I wouldn't say that I'm a diehard fan yet -- I'm still partial to Bakesale Betty's and Genova's Delicatessen -- but there's lot more for us to try at Ike's. (Unfortunately this website, which supposedly lists more sandwiches, wasn't working.) Perhaps I'll finally make a pilgrimage to the Castro location now that I've got a basis for comparison.

Ike's Lair
Address: map
2204 Broadway
Oakland, California 94612
Phone: 510-338-6789
Facebook: Ike's Lair
Twitter: @ikeslair
Hours:
Mon-Sun 11 am - 7 pm

Prather Ranch Meat Co.'s American Eatery

Prather Ranch Meat Co., well known in the Bay Area for their quality meats humanely-raised on small ranches, has opened their first takeout eatery in the Ferry Building. Located right next to the Prather Ranch Meat Co. retail store, American Eatery features meaty American comfort classics like dry-aged burgers, sausages, chili, ribs, grilled steak sandwiches, even pork scrapple.

The Stonebreaker

The first thing to catch my eye on the menu was The Stonebreaker. Named after PRMC founder, Doug Stonebreaker, this ten napkin burger is essentially a poutine burger, loaded with fries, melted cheese curds, and gravy. When I asked chef Erica Holland-Toll the inspiration behind the burger, she said:

"When I was hired to open The American Eatery, I knew I wanted to use Doug's last name on a burger or sandwich, but it had to be a big bold sandwich to stand up to a name like Stonebreaker. Doug always says he's a meat and potatoes kind of guy and it was an easy jump from that comment to a burger with french fries on it...the cheese curds and gravy came about as the next logical step, and suddenly The Stonebreaker came to life."

Well this burger was definitely big and bold. The flavor of the dry-aged beef lived up to Prather Ranch's reputation, although it could have used a heavier hand with the salt. The cheese curds were an interesting touch, lending a mild tang and creamy melt to the burger. The meat gravy made everything deliciously messy. And the pile of fries on top just pushed this burger over the edge into gluttonous beauty.

Chuck Wagon Chili Cheese Fries

The Chuck Wagon Chili Cheese Fries also required another ten napkins or so. Smothered in sweet and smoky chili made with hearty Prather Ranch chuck and creamy Rancho Gordo heirloom pinquito beans, the handcut fries sported all the fixings -- sharp cheddar, scallions, and sour cream.

Hot Dogs

The Chuck Wagon Chili is also available on its own, or as a burger topping. I'm sure once the American Eatery gets its organic hot dogs going too, you'll see a Chili Cheese Dog on the menu.

Steak & Egg Sandwich

I spied the Steak & Egg Sandwich on the rotating weekend brunch menu and had to try it. Grilled skirt steak on an Acme torpedo roll served with an organic fried egg from third generation family-owned and operated Glaum Ranch, swiss cheese, roasted Far West Fungi mushrooms, and mushroom mayo…this upscale breakfast sandwich was full of gooey, saucy, meaty, hearty lovin'. I thought the steak could have used a bit more salt, but all in all this was a great sandwich full of savory juiciness. American Eatery makes great use of all the fresh produce and quality products from their neighbors, and this sandwich is a shining example.

Braised Pumpkin & Leeks

While this menu is obviously geared towards meat lovers, don't count out the seasonal veggie offerings. The Braised Pumpkin & Leeks were perfect – buttery, creamy, and sweet, complemented with toppings of sage, pine nuts, dried currants.

The Meat Shop

Prather Ranch's new set up in the Ferry Building has made it infinitely easy to get some good meat into your life. At the meat shop, pick up your raw meat goodies. Around the corner, pick up your cooked meat goodies to eat on the spot, or prepared meals to take home (like a container of meatballs, or pulled pork, or marrow butter pats).

For design geeks, you may be interested in learn that most of the wood used in building the new storefront comes from an 1880's barn on Prather's Bella Vista ranch. If you look closely, you can still see holes bored by bullets and woodpeckers from days of the Wild West. Also, the lights fixed above the service counter are clad in genuine, hand-forged "diamond point" barbed wire, which was also reclaimed from the ranch.

A different breed

Prather Ranch Meat Co. has long operated on the philosophy of supporting a whole animal sales model. With the opening of American Eatery, it seems they've completed the circle, allowing them to serve their customers along the entire journey from raw ingredient to ready-to-eat home-style meals. While there are a few touches to be ironed out (heavier seasoning of meat, crispier fries), I'm looking forward to seeing the new eatery hit its stride. With its focus on high quality ingredients raised with care, it fits seamlessly into the Ferry Building. The American Eatery represents the final expression of gratitude for all the hard work of the small, sustainable farmers and ranchers who make it all possible.

We stand for the whole hog – and the entire chicken, the complete steer, and the total lamb. Our goal is to offer high quality, sustainable, humanely raised meats in support of a whole animal sales model. This approach allows us to support small ranches while offering all our customers the peace of mind from knowing where their meat comes from.
-- Prather Ranch Meat Co., "A Different Breed of Meat Shop"

ADDRESS
American Eatery
1 Ferry Building
San Francisco, CA 94114
(415) 391-0420

Before you make a reservation at Haven, the latest addition to chef / restauranteur Daniel Patterson's growing restaurant group, be sure you are hungry. Very hungry. Once you enter the beautiful wooden door that leads into the dining room, you'll have to put your New Year's fitness resolutions temporarily on hold. Your resolve will most likely waver once you scan Haven's menu and start eyeing the roasted bone marrow and braised lamb.

Located in Jack London Square opposite Bocanova and right next to Heinold's First And Last Chance Saloon, Haven settled into its space in mid-December of last year. In the main dining area, you can take in the view of the waterfront through its large wall of windows, or tuck yourself away in a more intimate corner of the bar.

Dark brown linen coasters, miniature tableaus of air plants, candles and ceramic salt cellars along with Heath dinnerware are the small formal touches that enliven the warm, natural decor of the rustic-modern space.

The ample wooden bar extends the length of the dining room and flanks the kitchen. If you enjoy a more theatrical dining experience, aim for a seat that affords you a view of the chef and her staff busy at work. We arrived early on a Monday night and were able to sit directly in front of the kitchen humming along with activity.

Executive Chef Kim Alter (with the purple head scarf) and her staff at Haven

I mentioned earlier that it's important to be as hungry as possible when dining at Haven. This is absolutely necessary if you choose the "Let Us Cook For You" option -- as my husband and I did -- and allow Executive Chef Kim Alter to spoil you with her 4 or 5-course family-style menu that's available for a table of two or more ($55/person for 4-courses, $65/person for 5). We elected to go with the decadent 5-course meal as this would give us a broad survey of Haven's offerings.

The meal began with a simple and delicious amuse bouche of a white anchovy on a crostini with celery root puree. This was followed by a light, creamy fennel soup made with Meyer lemon preserves and pearl onions. The server poured each portion into our bowls tableside, which had been "washed with absinthe" for additional hints of anise.

I hope the housemade Parker House rolls that arrived in between the next course remain a staple of the restaurant, as they're probably the best ones you'll ever sink your teeth into. Salty and toasted on the outside, soft and pillowy on the inside, they were the perfect accompaniment to the Little Gem salad tossed in a gorgonzola dressing with celery, jalapeno peppers, and sprinkled with fried chicken skin. A small galvanized bucket filled with deep-fried caramelized Brussels sprouts seasoned with lime, mint and garlic had a delightful sweet and sour tang that reminded us of British "chips" with malt vinegar.

Following these three delicious renditions of classic comfort food was a twist on pasta carbonara. Haven's version with housemade fettucine noodles uses a thick-cut bacon that imparts a deep smoky flavor to the sauce.

Next up was a bowlful of clams with seared turnips and garlic toast, which we used to sop up the rich bacon and bourbon broth. A side of crispy, mildy spicy fingerling potatoes with seaweed, shiro soy, miso -- an unusual combination that worked well -- completed this course.

Here's where we began to feel quite stuffed, but there was more to come. The best dishes of the evening were served to us personally by Chef Alter: a sous vide and confit-prepared chicken (a mix of breast and leg/wing, respectively) with a generous portion of wheat berries and roasted parsnips and carrots in a sweet Banyuls-foie sauce, along with a whimsical reinvention of shepherd's pie prepared with ground pork, topped with a delicate rutabaga-derived foam and fried fingerling potatoes. And there was a savory baked cauliflower dish (garnished with a few raw florets) made with cheese from Andante Dairy and served in a cazuela.

Chef Kim Alter plotting to fill our stomachs to the limit with dessert

We had barely recovered from our main courses when the magnificent dessert courses arrived. The intermezzo was a grapefruit sherbet atop a tarragon custard, but the show-stopper was the baked California. Swirled with airy fennel meringue, filled with vanilla ice cream that rested on a lemony cookie crust and served with dollops of citrus and avocado, it was a sweet homage to native flavors.

When we finally put our forks down and savored the last bite of baked California, we had that same, blissfully full feeling as if it were Thanksgiving in January. Our hearty 5-course meal would have been plenty for three, so next time we'll sample some small plates or bring back a group to share in the bounty. And hats off to Chef Alter for a fine meal; I'm looking forward to the ongoing evolution of Haven.

Haven
Address: map
44 Webster Street
Oakland, California 94612
Phone: (510) 663-4440
Facebook: Haven Oakland
Twitter: @havenjacklondon
Hours:
5 pm - 10 pm
Friday & Saturday
5 - 11 pm

"There's a new sheriff in town. She has a smoker and she's not afraid to use it."

So says the Twitter description for B-Side BBQ, an excellent new barbecue restaurant in West Oakland. But the "new sheriff" is already a neighborhood favorite. Chef / owner Tanya Holland is the seasoned veteran of the nearby successful soul food restaurant, Brown Sugar Kitchen, and her new restaurant is the "flip side" to her popular flagship establishment. She and her husband, Phil Surkis, have lived and worked in West Oakland for seven years and are helping to bring more great eats to the community.

My husband and I stopped by three days after their official open to visit the newly renovated space. The former home of Yardie Jerk, B-Side BBQ now has a warm, country-and-western feel with whimsical touches.

Tanya commissioned local artist April Banks to create artworks for the restaurant that will make you do a double-take. Look closely and you'll see Tanya and Phil making cameos in these classic western scenes.

They were already out of their smoked brown sugar rubbed brisket by the time we placed our order, so we chose the pulled pork sandwich ($8) and the St. Louis Ribs ($10 half-order / $18 full order). Sides come separately, and we went for the day's seasonal vegetable (collard greens with garlic, $4) and spicy coleslaw ($4). The "Dark and Stormy" sauce (made with molasses and honey) I chose for my barbecue was a perfect complement to the crunchy coleslaw heaped on my tasty sandwich. The ribs were juicy and hearty; be sure to grab some of the complimentary wet nap towelettes to help clean the smoky, saucy aftermath off of your fingertips (unless you go for the finger-licking route, which I highly recommend.) And definitely try the housemade lemonade ($3) if you're looking for a sweet refresher to accompany your meal.

Tanya and Phil currently split their time between B-Side and Brown Sugar. She was busy in the kitchen and the dining room, with Phil helping her and her staff serve her customers. Stay tuned for the next iteration of B-Side BBQ. More items are on the way for the menu, and they'll increase B-Side's hours over time. Phil also mentioned they'll be expanding the existing space to accommodate more seating and lengthen the bar. We'll definitely be heading back for the brisket and cornbread.

Tanya Holland, Chef / Owner of Brown Sugar Kitchen and B-Side BBQ

B-Side BBQ
Address: map
3303 San Pablo Avenue (at 33rd Street)
Phone: (510) 595-0227
Hours:Tuesday-Saturday 11-4
Facebook: B-Side BBQ
Twitter: @BSideBBQ

Lidia Bastianich and her fabulous shows on Italian cooking have always had a special place in my heart. As an Italian American originally from New York, I love to not only watch Lidia cook up a storm but hear her talk about how Italian food has influenced American culture. Watching Lidia is something my mother and I do together when she visits, and her shows invariably lead to my mother telling animated tales of enormous family meals at her Neapolitan grandparents house in the Bronx and remembrances of my own grandmother’s take on various dishes. But more than that Ms. Bastianich inspires us to get into the kitchen and cook.

When I was a kid I didn’t realize that the food I was eating on a daily basis was not actually eaten in Italy. My mother’s Sunday Gravy was a cherished weekly event and I figured Italians were eating this dish not only in New York and California, but Naples and Palermo as well. Same with her tangy vinegar pepper Chicken Cacciatore and Christmas Eve black olive pizza. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized Italian American food falls into its own special category, full of ingredients that immigrants found after my great grandparents and others traveled through Ellis Island or landed at airports later in the century.

You see, it wasn’t until recently that ingredients like farro, San Marzano tomatoes and Parmigiano-Reggiano started to appear regularly in American grocery stores. Before this, Italian immigrants and their children were limited to using ingredients that were local to their new homes and often distinctly American in taste. So America’s love for beef led to the aforementioned Sunday Gravy, a rich tomato-based sauce full of meatballs, sausages and bragiolle that isn't made in Italy itself.

I have quite a few of Lidia Bastianich’s books, but I use them a little differently than my other cookbooks. While I might open up my new "Sunday Suppers at Lucques" by Suzanne Goin or the gorgeous "Tender" by Nigel Slater to drool over the photos and feel inspired to try something new, Lidia’s books are like visiting my grandmother’s and mother’s recipe files. So much is comfortable and familiar, but with the clear difference that they also provide well-detailed instructions -- something my mother and grandmother thought was covered by phrases like “cook until done” or “add a little of this and that until it tastes right” (all said with a heavy Bronx accent).

Ms. Bastianich’s new book “Lidia’s Italy in America,” which she wrote with her daughter Tanya Bastianich Manuali, is no different. The focus here is the unique ways Italian American immigrants interpreted dishes from their homeland throughout the United States. The book is broken down into the standard sections of antipasti, zuppe, pasta, etc., but within are pages that highlight specific specialties from different areas along with descriptions of the Italian American neighborhoods that created them. So in Poultry we find a vignette about Federal Hill in Providence Rhode Island but soon after follows a recipe for Roberto’s Chicken Piccante from a chef on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx (a neighborhood dear to my heart as it’s where my father grew up). The gamut of Italian American cooking is covered with descriptions of the people who make these neighborhoods distinct and some history as well.

Although I’ve never met her, Ms. Bastianich’s is sort of like my TV culinary mother. Sweet and nurturing while also firm with her advice and directions, I trust her to help me navigate the path of Italian cookery. I will admit that I have occasionally been disappointed, as I was with the deep dish pizza in this book which was more bread than pizza. I can’t really complain, however, as the recipe says “it is a cross between focaccia and a pizza," so she warned me. My suggestion if you make it is to cut the dough in half and add more filling to the top, but remember I’m a Neapolitan-American raised on thin crusts so I’m a bit biased. More often than not, however, I have been quite happy with the results. The baked Rollatini of Sole offered a delightfully lemony take on fish cooked with breadcrumbs and the Italian American Meatloaf is, without a doubt, the best meatloaf I have ever made. My kids and husband raved about it and we all had seconds. Note, however, that the recipe is so big it makes either one incredibly large loaf, or, if you’re like me, one for your own family and one to share with the mom who took your kids for the afternoon.

"Lidia’s Italy in America" has that type of easy cookbook style I like best when reading recipes I will actually use. The recipes are laid out clearly and are easy to follow. I also enjoyed her stories on American neighborhoods and their Italian citizens. My only criticism is that there are hardly any pictures of food (most are of the people in the neighborhoods she visited). I love recipe photos in cookbooks because it’s reassuring to know what dishes are supposed to look like when you cook them and I felt this book could have used a few more. But that is a minor criticism. As she’s done many times before, Lidia Bastianich has provided a solid compilation of Italian American recipes, this time with an emphasis on those that truly reflect the diverse and eclectic nature of the many types of Italian neighborhoods there are in America. So if you’re in the mood for authentic Italian American recipes from the embodiment of Italian mama-ness, pick up a copy of "Lidia’s Italy in America."

Italian American Meatloaf, salad and roasted potatoes. Photo by Denise Santoro Lincoln.

Recipe: Italian American Meatloaf (Polpettone)

One would think that meatloaf is very American, but its origins are actually in a German colonial dish of minced pork mixed with cornmeal. Italians serve it a lot as well, and in this rendition the cultures blend deliciously with the addition of a pestata, a paste of carrots, celery, and onions. Not only does the meatloaf taste delicious, but it is foolproof, moist every time. The leftovers reheat as if just cooked, and Italians love to serve it with roasted potato wedges.

Serves 10 or more

2 cups cubes of country bread with crust
1 cup milk
2 medium carrots, cut into chunks
2 medium stalks celery, cut into chunks
1 medium onion, cut into chunks
1 1/2 pounds ground beef
1 1/2 pounds ground pork
1 bunch scallions, trimmed and chopped
1 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Grana Padano
1 cup marinara sauce or puréed canned tomatoes
1/2 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Put the bread cubes in a medium bowl, and pour the milk over them. Let the bread soak until it is soft. Meanwhile, combine the carrots, celery, and onion in a food processor, and pulse to make a fine-textured paste or pestata.

When the bread is soft, squeeze out the excess milk and put the bread in a large mixing bowl. Mix the pestata, ground meats, scallions, grated cheese, marinara sauce, parsley,salt, and oregano with the bread, using your hands to distribute all of the ingredients evenly. Oil a 10-by-15-inch Pyrex or ceramic baking dish with the olive oil. Form the meat mixture into a loaf in the oiled pan.

Place in the oven, and bake until browned and cooked through (the center of the meatloaf should read 165 degrees F on an instant-read thermometer), about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes before slicing.

Chicago Deep-Dish Pizza. Photo: Lidia Matticchio Bastianich.

Recipe: Chicago Deep-Dish Pizza (Pizza Alta di Chicago)

One could call this dish pizza bread, and it is a cross between a focaccia and a pizza. In Sicily, they make a high pizza called sfincione, topped with tomatoes, oregano, and a few anchovies. It is sold in warm squares as street food from a cart. The idea for deep- dish pizza came from the early Sicilian immigrants that settled in Chicago, although the excessive toppings are not something one would find in Sicily.

Makes 1 pizza

FOR THE DOUGH
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 packet instant dry yeast (2 1/4 teaspoons)
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for kneading the dough
1/2 cup fine cornmeal
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for bowl and pan

FOR THE TOPPING
4 ounces provolone, sliced
4 ounces mozzarella, sliced
1 to 1 1/2 cups marinara sauce
2 ounces pepperoni, sliced
1/2 cup grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

Pour 1 cup plus 3 tablespoons warm (90 to 110 degrees F) water into a bowl, then stir in the sugar and yeast. Let sit until the yeast begins to bubble, about 5 minutes.

In an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix the flour, cornmeal, and salt on low to combine. Pour in the yeast mixture and the olive oil to combine while still mixing. Once the dough comes together, switch to the dough hook, and knead on medium-high speed to make a smooth dough, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add a little more water or fl our as needed to make a soft dough. Put the dough in an oiled bowl, cover, and let rise until doubled in size, from 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Punch down the dough, and press it into a 14-x-10-inch oiled baking pan or an oiled 12-inch cast-iron skillet, gently pressing the dough up the sides to make a shell. Fill the shell with an even layer of the provolone and mozzarella, then spread the sauce to cover the cheese completely. Top with the pepperoni, and sprinkle with the grated cheese and oregano. Cover with foil, and bake 45 minutes. Then uncover, and bake until the crust is deep golden brown and the pizza is bubbly, about 20 minutes more. Let sit about 5 to 10 minutes before cutting into wedges and serving.

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Recipes excerpted from Lidia's Italy in America by Lidia Bastianich. Copyright © 2011 by Lidia Bastianich. Excerpted by permission of Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Related Programs:
• Watch Lidia Celebrates America -- Holiday Tables & Traditions on KQED TV tonight 12/20/11 at 8pm. View additional airtimes.

Temescal's Telegraph Avenue in Oakland is becoming quite the coffee-lovers' hot spot. There's a Peet's Coffee, Remedy, Good Bellies, Aunt Mary's Cafe and The Mixing Bowl. And now there's a new cafe on the block, Arbor, which has taken over the former kid-friendly spot SadieDey's as of October.

Arbor is owned by DNA Lounge manager Christopher Marquez. When my husband and I stopped in for brunch on a chilly Sunday morning, we were looking forward to a good hot cup of coffee and a warm breakfast.

The decor reflects the retro-vintage chic that's all the rage right now, with wood floors and mismatched tables and chairs filling up the space. But there's very little artwork up on the walls, so the space doesn't quite have the same warm, lived-in look as its furniture. It would be a great venue for a rotating gallery featuring local artists, so hopefully they'll utilize Arbor's spacious room for small art openings.

The indoor bicycle rack was filled to capacity -- a nice touch to help attract cycling-friendly clientele -- and Arbor brews java from the local Bay Area company Bicycle Coffee as well.

Their daily menu is written up on a chalkboard perched on an easel: granola with yogurt and fruit ($5); egg and cheddar sandwich with salad ($6); poached eggs with toast and salad ($7); prosciutto, poached eggs and toast ($7) and strawberry and Nutella (we're presuming on toast) ($6). There were also an assortment of pastries for sale. They were out of the egg and cheddar sandwich when we arrived just before noon, so my husband ordered coffee while I decided to try their prosciutto special. There were only two friendly staffers behind the counter, so service was a little slow as they prepared the drip coffee and meal. But they were cheerful and attentive, and we didn't mind the wait as they apologized for the fact they're still smoothing out the kinks.

The prosciutto plate was rather plain; two slim slices of buttered baguette were topped with poached eggs and meat, and the accompanying mixed green salad was simply dressed. While the breakfast was a bit on the underwhelming side, I'm hoping Arbor will continue to evolve and expand their offerings. Judging from the number of tables occupied that morning, it's building a loyal community following and is another welcome addition to the neighborhood.

Arbor Cafe
Yelp: Arbor Cafe
4210 Telegraph Ave
(between 42nd St & 43rd St)
Hours:
Tue-Fri 9-5PM
Sat-Sun 10-7PM

If there's one cuisine that I'd love to be able to cook like a native at home, it would be Moroccan. Why? For the seductive spicing that scents the kitchen like a bazaar; the dried apricots and dates nestled up lush and luscious next to slow-cooked lamb; the crisp brik pastries; the fiery smear of harissa; the unexpected matches of sweet and savory, even the delicate, gold-rimmed glasses poured theatrically full of hot, achingly sweet mint tea out of the held-high spout of an intricately decorated silver pot.

I had my first Moroccan meal—a platter of couscous piled with meat and soft-cooked vegetables, ladled over with flavorful broth and shared by everyone at the table—in a small, cozily dim neighborhood restaurant in Paris in 1983. I was a teenager, and no stranger to New York and New Jersey's various ethnic restaurants, thanks to my culinarily-adventurous parents, but the flavors of North Africa were utterly new to me. Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco, which brought descriptions, at least, of tagines, couscous, preserved lemons, and ras el hanoot to American kitchens (getting authentic ingredients was something else), had been published ten years before, but author Paula Wolfert's caftan-wearing bohemian taste hadn't wafted to our corner of the East Coast yet. I had to get to France, with its large post-colonial population of North Africans, to taste scorchingly hot merguez (lamb sausage) and the pigeon pie, called b'steeya, whose savory filling was wrapped in shatteringly crisp, sugar-dusted pastry leaves.

Now, decades later, San Francisco has its own mini-neighborhood of inexpensive Moroccan and Tunisian restaurants along a five-block stretch of Polk Street. And then there's Aziza, the swanky destination with the unlikely Outer Richmond address, as much like these casual couscous joints as Kokkari is to a gyros shop on Telegraph Ave. Run by Mourad Lahlou, the tattooed, Moroccan-born chef who came to San Francisco in 1985 to go to college at SF State, Aziza is a contemporary restaurant first, with Moroccan roots but a menu dedicated to modern techniques rather than classic interpretations. Because, as Lahlou writes in his new book, Mourad: New Moroccan, why shouldn't Moroccan food evolve, just like California cuisine has? As he writes about his childhood memories of growing up in Marrakesh with a large extended family,

But the thing is, I don't long for that world. I cherish it, and I cook from it every day. And so, dish by dish and year by year, my food evolves. I started at Kasbah [his first restaurant, in San Rafael] with a somewhat obsessive attitude about showing people real Moroccan food, done the authentic way. But there we were in California. It's just not possible. The ingredients are different—even the ones flown in from Morocco don't taste the same by the time they arrive...So, before long, I was doing the Moroccan version of what so many inventive northern California chefs have done. I adapted what I knew and loved to make it work with the beautiful ingredients I can get here, and then just followed my nose, my heart and my palate."

Mourad Lahlou. Photo: Deborah Jones

Mourad's food here in the Richmond is an expression of both his own and his customers' restless taste. His book, gorgeously photographed in that lavish minimalist style familiar to readers of European and Australian food magazines, in which single items are shot in mouth-watering, brilliantly detailed close-up, surrounded by tons of expensive-looking white space, sells the not-quite-established celebrity appeal of the handsome Mourad as much as it does his food. The book is gorgeous and spot-on contemporary; if you want a chic cookbook to give your have-everything loft-dwelling pals for the holidays, this is it. (And to ensure an invitation to the cocktail party where they try out the recipes for harissa bloody marys and Berbere-cured chicken liver mousse.)

But can you cook from it? For DIY obsessives, the most crucial parts are the opening chapters, which focus on the spice-driven building blocks of Mourad's cuisine. He mentions, casually, that his restaurant staff makes five different ras el hanout blends for different dishes, but putting together the one 23-ingredient version he offers should satisfy, especially if you, the home cook, follow it up with the sexy 22-ingredient vadouvan blend, for which it helps to have a dehydrator as well a tablespoon or so of an additional 10-ingredient curry mix. There is a long, leisurely section about hand-rolling your own couscous from coarse semolina, salt, water, and flour, and an even longer one about making tissue-thin sheets of warqa, Morocco's version of phyllo, with the up-to-date help of a little xanthan gum.

Once you move onto the main dishes, success, as always with chef- and restaurant-driven cookbooks, depends on your affinity and patience for long ingredient lists and multiple sub-recipes. Restaurants, as surely as any TV watcher now knows, spend all day, every day, making the many different items that come together on your plate. One guy makes the stocks. Another guy takes those stocks and turns them into sauces. Someone else chops the onions or toasts and grinds the spice mixes. Even if it looks like you're getting protein, vegetables, and sauce on a plate, do a little real analysis and you'll probably find a dozen different steps (or double that) that went into making your meal. And Mourad, 21st-century chef, likes his drips and drizzles, his frizzled herbs and sudden spice-drenched dabs of infused oils.

Of course, you can strip out the fancy stuff, and just make the still luscious-sounding entrees and surprisingly simple but alluring salads and sides. But if you want to get the full Mourad, you're going to have to do some serious spice-shopping, and get ready to divvy up multiple tasks, probably over several days, to crank out a full menu. To make that Lamb Shank, Spiced Prunes, and Brown-Butter Farro, be prepared to brew up a Red Wine Gastrique Lamb Sauce, make the Spiced Prunes, simmer up some lamb stock, dry your shanks in the fridge overnight, and then tend to them lovingly for at least most of an afternoon, including a nearly 3-hour braising time in the oven. (And if you happen to have some Activa RM around, you can follow the "Chef to Chef" tips and turn the meat into a sliceable log.)

You won't find xanthan gum in Paula Wolfert's clay-pot-lined kitchen. In the nearly 4 decades since her first Moroccan cookbook came out, Wolfert, who lives in Sonoma, has become perhaps the American expert on traditional Mediterranean cuisines. Given the Bay Area's affinity with all things olive-oiled and bay-leaved, it's rare to find a kitchen not stocked with at least one of her cookbooks around here. (Those that don't usually have a few by Joyce Goldstein instead.) Wolfert, now 71, still finds a thrill in capturing authenticity, in ferreting out obscure or lesser-known dishes or methods, often unique to a particular region or place. She's especially drawn to those that she feels are in danger of disappearing, as cooks give up (perhaps with a sigh of relief) traditional labor-intensive methods and ingredients.

Back when Wolfert first started her cookbook-writing career, her books were more for armchair travelers than hands-on cooks. Finding fresh purslane, nigella seeds, or cubeb pepper was almost impossible; there was no busy-mom instant couscous on the shelves at Safeway. But slowly, book after book, Wolfert made a difference. Now, leafing through The Food of Morocco, her decades-later update of that first couscous book, a Bay Area cook would be hard-pressed to find an ingredient that she couldn't source between a handful of well-stocked international-foods shops.

Wolfert's book doesn't look as striking as Mourad's; the design is busier, the serifed typefaces fussy, the colors a little washed out. Still, after all these years, Wolfert still has the enthusiasm to sit down with her readers and start right at the beginning. The first 50 pages are lists, techniques, and explanations that explain all the basics and then some, from The Ten Most Frequently Used Spices (with descriptions), to her own long and enticing description of ras el hanout, and how it can include up to a hundred ingredients, even the poisonous, irritating, supposed aphrodisiac known as Spanish fly. There are questions and answers about how to grate a tomato, why and how to grate an onion, how to make saffron water, even how to peel chickpeas. Wolfert makes no assumptions about the sophistication or hipness of her readers; you can't imagine her labeling a chapter on couscous "Here's How I Roll," as Mourad does. In the recipes, the flavors are familiar, even comforting, rife with almonds, eggplant, cumin, cilantro, turmeric, ginger, olives, lemons, and honey, but the methods just different enough from a typical California sear or grill to twist the results into something altogether different.

So which cookbook will get more spattered in my kitchen? When I'm cooking for myself, I'll trust Wolfert. Cooking to impress? I'll ask the tattooed guy over, and hope he brings a bunch of friends with sharp knives and plenty of time.

I've never been to The French Laundry. Ever since my love for food evolved from outings to the Olive Garden to a lovely dinner at Oliveto, it has represented to me the pinnacle of haute cuisine in America. Several years ago, when I happened to be spending the day in Yountville with an ex-boyfriend, I asked him to slowly drive past the restaurant in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the chef (as we weren't able to get a reservation). And lo -- there he was, the celebrated Thomas Keller, standing in the bucolic backyard and chatting with one of his staff. I squealed loudly like a teenage groupie and my ex-boyfriend remarked, "Well, I can't compete with that."

I still haven't been to the restaurant. But after dining tonight at Benu, I almost feel that I have -- through one of its gifted progeny. Keller's former chef de cuisine of 4 1/2 years, Corey Lee, is the creative force behind this remarkable restaurant. He's been receiving loads of press, with renowned New York City chef David Chang recently declaring Benu, "the best restaurant in America." It's been open for a little over a year, and it's still possible to easily get a prime time reservation on a weeknight. (I'm sure that'll change as they were recently awarded with two Michelin stars.) With my friend Scott Spencer of Spencer's Pantry in tow, we headed to Hawthorne Lane in SOMA.

After you pass through the gate that leads to Benu's stone courtyard, you pass by a glass door on the right that offers you a glimpse of the spotless kitchen that emanates the same calm zen quality as the restaurant itself. The staff seems unhurried, working intently on their dishes at their stations.

The first thing I noticed about the spare, modernist interior after we sat down (designed by Richard Bloch) was the muted, gray tonality of the space that was gently illuminated with a neutral, balanced light. It reminded me of walking into an art museum at dusk or that first moment before a play is about to begin, with the house lights gradually dimmed before the performance. There's a cool stillness that evokes more of a contemplative mood -- rather than a romantic one -- in its atmosphere. With higher-end fine dining, I'm accustomed to walking into hushed, dark spaces lit only by candlelight and the other patrons shrouded in darkness.

Scott and I knew beforehand that we were going to order the 19-course tasting menu ($180 / person, which the whole table must order together). Yes, 19 courses -- and spoiler alert: each one was exquisite. I won't go through the entire tasting menu -- which you can see in the slideshow below -- so I'll just review some of the highlights.

The square black wooden tables, sans white tablecloths, offer an appealing backdrop that is both casual in its presentation yet still retains a formal quality. Each dish is served in a beautiful Korean ceramic vessel (made by KwangJuYo, seemingly crafted with each course in mind as they complemented the ingredients perfectly.) And most of the courses were eaten with a small silver spoon that lay on a stone rest. The service was impeccable; each dish was brought out by a rotation of different servers -- a nice touch that added a punctuation of freshness to each course -- who described the ingredients and the best way to indulge in the dish.

A single bite of oyster and pork belly that wonderfully melded together and was encapsulated in a sugar glass-like kimchi-infused wrapper was probably the most delightful thing I've ever eaten in my life. And to think that was only the second course; my mind was already blown by the combination of the crunchy kimchi glass giving way to the luscious oyster and pork belly in one rapturous, melt-in-your-mouth bite. Umami overload.

Do you know those colorful shrimp chips that sometimes accompany dishes at Asian restaurants? Benu reinvented this snack favorite with their "salt-and-pepper squid" dish by creating a large, peppery black chip topped with tender cubes of squid and jalapeno for a bit of a spicy kick.

And there were the soup dumplings. Not just any soup dumplings, but "foie gras xiao long bao." (I'll digress here for a moment and say that dumplings are one of the core elements of my being. I am obsessed with dumplings, to the point where I contemplated starting my own independent dumpling enterprise.) They arrived on an elegant white circular porcelain platter that's a nod to the steamed bamboo baskets commonly seen in Chinese restaurants. After taking a small bite to release the warm foie gras broth into the spoon, I slurped up the rich soup before eating the rest of the tender pork dumpling. I was rather forlorn that there were only two; it was over much too soon. (And I suppose, come next July, this dish will be off the menu.)

The "beef braised in pear, beech mushroom, sunflower seeds and leaves" -- like the kimchi glass earlier in the meal -- drew upon Chef Lee's Korean roots. One secret to creating tender Korean beef barbecue is to add pear to the traditional soy sauce, garlic, onions and scallions marinade to help tenderize the beef. And the succulent (and I'm guessing, sous vide-prepared) beef was heavenly.

The entire tasting menu unfolded like the four seasons, starting off with lighter bites and spring-like tastes, then ending with deeper, richer autumnal flavors towards the end. A gorgeous dessert of "fig, white chocolate, balsamic vinegar, sake lees (the sediment leftover after rice is pressed to make the alcohol)" resembled a delicate snowfall on a winter's day. It was accompanied with "malted rice tea, pine nut, pine needle honey"; you'd drink the sweet tea, then eat a soft custard at the bottom of the glass.

Three hours later, at the end of our feast -- concluded with fine chocolates from Napa-based La Forêt Chocolate & Confections -- Scott and I were in a state of serene bliss. The flawlessly executed dishes -- with several an homage to Asian home-cooking favorites -- inspired lively discussion between us about technique, ingredients, and our love of food. Benu is a temple to fine dining, and I will make another pilgrimage on another special occasion.

Benu
22 Hawthorne Street
San Francisco CA 94105 map
(415) 685-4860
For parties of seven or more, contact Kathryn Douglass at (415) 685-4860 x116
Dinner service only. Tuesday-Saturday, 5:30pm to 9:30pm
Benu on Facebook

Guests and host Leslie Sbrocco taping episode 612 of Check, Please! Bay Area at KQED. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

Check, Please! Bay Area Season 6: episode 12 airs Thursday October 27 at 7:30pm on KQED TV 9. View other airtimes and channels.

You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.

The twelfth and final episode of the season features these restaurants: Izzy's Steaks and Chops (San Francisco), El Huarache Loco (San Francisco) and Helmand Palace (San Francisco).

Leslie Sbrocco: Wine Tips -- Opening Champagne Using a Saber