It was that rarest of all rare birds, a San Francisco summer day that started warm and stayed that way through sunset and into dusk. Indeed, last Wednesday evening was balmy as Brooklyn, a day for sundresses and sandals, popsicles and a tall cool drink after dark. Inside the dim environs of Bourbon & Branch, it was downright tropical, with a sweaty summer heat not even a couple of jumbo-sized fans could mitigate.

Still, no one at the launch party for Left Coast Libations: The Art of West Coast Bartending: 100 Original Cocktails was complaining. After months of miserable chilly fog, it was finally, finally tank-top weather, just for a night. Against a backdrop of flocked wallpaper, rows of books, and gleaming liquor bottles, Ted Munat and his co-author Michael Lazar were making the rounds of the room, showing off copies of their brand-new, self-published paen to the West Coast's most inventive bartenders.

Now a snappy, 160-page hardcover, the book started out as something more like a church cookbook, a little self-produced tome created by Munat and his brother Charles, with a handful of bartenders' bios alongside recipes for their favorite original creations. Munat, who blogs about cocktail culture at Le Mixeur, passed around the first version at Tales of the Cocktail, the boozy New Orleans celebration & cocktail conference. Naturally, the bartenders loved to read about themselves. The only problem was the recipes; while other pros could usually decipher the often cryptic instructions, the average guy with a shaker and a bag of ice wasn't going to get a good-tasting drink out of these jottings. Enter Michael Lazar, a high-tech guy turned cocktail obsessive, who jumped in to spend some 2 years testing and refining the recipes to make them workable even for amateurs.

Then again, this is definitely a bartenders' book for bartenders. As a snapshot of a particular moment in cocktail culture, it's invaluable. And in a few years, just like the outfits in Flashdance or the haircuts in Liquid Sky, it will be a cautionary tale, an artifact of a sleeve-gartered, molecular-mixology, pre-Prohibition-obsessed post-post modernism where bitters reigned, gin ruled, St. Germain elderflower liqueur flowed, no one ever asked for a Cosmo or a vodka tonic, and recipes for Smoked Cider Air, Basil Foam, and (yes, really) Smoked Ice were given with complete sincerity.

And then there's the Thomas Keller factor: just like hot-shot chefs, top-shelf bartenders often have the freedom (and budget) to ferret out obscure liquors and create labor-intensive, in-house garnishes and flavorings. A glossary with sourcing information would be very helpful; instead, if you don't already have bottles of Velvet Falernum and Amaro Montenegro in your cocktail cabinet, it can take a close reading of the notes attached to specific cocktail recipes to figure out what they are or how to find them.

However, for those wondering what cocktails tasted like before artificially colored, high-fructose corn-syruped mixtures took over, the back-of-the-book appendix is very useful, with recipes for all kinds of cool stuff from the basic (grenadine syrup, Earl Grey tea-infused gin) to the nifty (banana-flavored rum, agave ginger syrup, strawberry tequila, thai chili tincture) to the fancy-pants (maple syrup gastrique, saffron sharbat, pear foam).

The cocktails, photographed by Jenn Farrington, glow with promise. They all seem to be what Raymond Chandler describes as "the first quiet drink of the evening in a quiet bar -- that's wonderful," in his perfect LA noir, The Long Goodbye. (The same character later insists that, "A real gimlet is half gin and half Rose's Lime Juice and nothing else. They beat martinis hollow.")

The writing, well, it's bloggy. Every bartender is a star, and Munat uses every slangy superlative (and then some) to make sure the reader knows what fantastic craftsmen, artists, and all-around bon vivants/shy geniuses/supermentors these guys are. (And yes, they are almost all guys. Out of some 50 bartenders, only 6 are women, and 4 of them--Brooke Arthur, Jennfer Colliau, Christine D'Abrosca, and Jackie Patterson-- work in San Francisco.) How much you can take of this kind of hero worship may depend on how much of your happiness depends on getting that perfect Negroni, Corpse Reviver, or Blood and Sand.

Then again, those Saffron Sandalwood Sours were awfully good. Cheers to the West Coast, and may your mustache never lose its twirl, nor your sleeve garters their snap.

Saffron Sandalwood Sour. Photography © Jenn Farrington 2010

Saffron Sandalwood Sour
Created by Anu Apte of Seattle's Rob Roy. Recipe adapted from Left Coast Libations.

1 1/2 oz gin
1/2 oz lemon juice
1/2 oz lime juice
1/2 oz Saffron Sharbat (see below)
1 barspoon Angostura bitters
1 egg white
Sandalwood, for garnish

1. Using a cocktail shaker, dry shake all the ingredients except for the sandalwood.

2. Add ice and shake again. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

3. To garnish, sprinkle powdered sandalwood over the top of the drink. You can also grind sandalwood chips in a spice grinder, sifting the result through a fine strainer to lay a "dusting" over the top of the drink.

Saffron Sharbat
Makes enough for 16 cocktails, but keeps indefinitely. It can also be used to make a refreshing non-alcoholic drink with fresh lime juice and sparkling water.

1 tbsp boiling water
1/4 tsp saffron threads
1 1/4 cups water
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup rosewater

1. Crush saffron threads between your thumb and forefinger. Bring 1 tbsp water to a boil, the add saffron to the hot water. Let saffon steep for 15 minutes.

2. Mix 1 1/4 cups water and sugar in a small, heavy saucepan. Cook, stirring, over medium heat until sugar is dissolved.

3. Add rosewater and saffron mixture to sugar syrup.

4. Simmer over medium heat for five minutes.

5. Remove from heat and let cool. Transfer to a jar or plastic container and store, covered, in the refrigerator.

The San Francisco Launch Party for Left Coast Libations will be held at Heaven's Dog, 1148 Mission St, S.F. on Sept. 18th at 9pm.

Pagan Restaurant with Melanie

Last night, I took a quick cab ride home from Bourbon and Branch, where I had gone to have a drink from the amazing Martin Cate. Cate was the genius behind Forbidden Island in Alameda until a few months ago. He is fighting the good fight -- keeping the tradition of impeccably executed Tiki drinks alive. The cry that you heard around the Bay Area sometime around January was his fans freaking out when we found out that he was leaving Forbidden Island, and we did not know where he would be going next. He is doing a guest stint at Bourbon and Branch and you can try his drinks tonight (March 31) along with the throngs. It's a rare night that I happily wait in line 45 minutes for a drink, but last night I waited (and waited and waited) to try a delicious Port Light -- a drink with bourbon, passionfruit and honey that was originally made at Trader Vic's. If you choose to go tonight, you don't need a reservation -- Cate is set up in the Library (entrance on O'Farrell).

Anyway, back to the cabbie. We got to chatting -- about food, of course -- and I found out that he is Burmese. "I am Burmese and I like Mexican men, I must be honest about that," he said as we giggled. On Sunday night, I had gone to the Burmese Pagan Restaurant in the Richmond for the second time. He corrected my pronunciation of the restaurant (it's like 'Ba-Gone' with a short 'a' sound) and laughed as I told him that I want to eat ginger salad right before I die. "You must like very strong, spicy flavors," he said.

The cabbie went on to describe Burmese food in general and said that it is very influenced by the countries around Burma -- Thailand, India and China. Burmese cuisine has lots of salads, some curry dishes, and features some fermented and sour flavors. More than anything, my exposure to Burmese cuisine has been highlighted by dishes which have many layers of complexity and are delicious in their balance of flavor.

Pagan Restaurant has been open for a little over a year, and has become popular among food lovers for its comfortable space and delicious food. San Francisco is lucky in having several Burmese restaurants, including Burma Superstar, Larkin Express Deli, and Mandalay Restaurant, and Pagan is now being listed in the same breath when talking about great Burmese food.

If you decide to check out Pagan restaurant, consider trying these dishes:

Ginger Salad (Gin Thut). Most people who have been to Burmese food have tried Tea Leaf Salad (Lap Pat Thut), a delicious salad tossed with a mixture of tea leafs -- almost in a pesto-like form. While I like the tea leaf salad, my heart is with its gingery sister. Gin Thut features nuts, garlic, dried shrimp, some legumes, and a pile of dried, pickled ginger. Everything is carefully tossed and each bite is a delicious mix of heat from the ginger, along with salt from the nuts, and acid from the dressing.

Samusa Soup This soup has falafel and samosas in it, along with cabbage and lentils in a complex, spicy dark broth.

Pan-fried okra with prawns. I was surprised by my reaction to this dish. The prawns were frozen and not very good, however that did not detract from my love of the flavors in the rest of the dish. The okra were crunchy and only lightly cooked. And the spicy sauce was fantastically delicious and balanced.

Shwe Taung Kauswer (#43, Coconut Chicken Curry). The curry here is more savory than sweet, but delivers very little heat. I almost thought of it more as a complex gravy than a curry as I have learned to know. This was served with noodles and a generally comforting dish.

Related Links:
A wonderful primer on Burmese cuisine on Chowhound
Pagan review, Chronicle

Bourbon and Branch
501 Jones Street (at O'Farrell)
San Francisco
415.346.1735

Pagan Restaurant
3199 Clement (at 33rd)
San Francisco
415.751.2598

When I was in college, my roommate introduced me to Kierkegaard's theory of the despair of infinitude. It was complicated in an existential sort of way, but over the years, I've adopted a variation on the term -- the despair of infinity -- to refer to the overwhelming sensation I feel when faced with too many choices. Trying to pickout an outfit for the first day of work after a big shopping spree? Despair of infinity. Time to whip up dinner and the fridge is full of food? Despair of infinity. Back from a year in Russia and sitting at a bar, perusing a beer list of 6 drafts and 20 bottles? Praise capitalism in all its glory -- but that's despair of infinity nonetheless.

The despair of infinity comes upon me almost anytime I have to decide where to take visitors to dinner. When I was new to San Francisco, it was easy. We simply went wherever I had not been and, especially if it was my folks, could not afford. Over the years, I've exhausted most of the San Francisco icons with repeat visitors, and moved on to personal neighborhood favorites.

Since Indian summer is the best time for visitors, I thought I'd share the places on my short list. Where do you like to take visiting family and friends out to eat?

The Icons

Zuni Cafe A perrenial favorite. Who doesn't love the copper bar, the Caesar salad, and the roast chicken? 1658 Market Street, (415) 552-2522.

Slanted Door Some people complain that it's gotten too big for its britches since moving into the Ferry Building, but the shaking beef still rocks, and the Bay views can't be beat. 1 Ferry Building #3 at the Embarcadero, (415) 861-8032.

Boulevard This feel-good brasserie sticks to seasonal California classics, and it has an old-world elegance that's irresistable. 1 Mission Street, (415) 543-6084.

The Regulars

Vivande This was a weekly stop when I lived in Pacific Heights. The pasta is handmade, the sausage comes from a 150-year-old family recipe, and the lemon tart is worth the visit alone. 2125 Fillmore Street, (415) 346-4430.

1550 Hyde The philosophy here is to cook with the Bay Area's best sustainably raised produce and meats, like cult favorite Hoffman Gamebirds' chickens. I've never had a meal that was anything short of extraordinary. 1550 Hyde Street, (415) 775-1550.

Antica Trattoria Though the atmosphere isn't as convivial as it is at Ristorante Milano, another favorite haunt, the food is more rustic and the servers remember their regulars. 2400 Polk Street, (415) 928-5797.

The Current Favorites

Nua This relatively new addition to North Beach is fast becoming a destination. I crave the roasted cauliflower with capers and pine nuts on a regular basis. 550 Green Street, (415) 433-4000.

Terzo If I lived in the Marina, I'd come here all the time for small plates like succulent, spicy chicken spiedini and the addictive crispy fried onion rings. As it is, I'm on a first name basis with the hostess. 3011 Steiner Street, (415) 441-3200.

Bourbon & Branch -- This modern speakeasy may not serve a single bite of food, but it is the coolest bar in town. Okay, so the secret password is a bit hokey, but once you're inside, inventive cocktails and the 1920's-inspired atmosphere cast their spell. Visit bourbonandbranch.com for reservations.

Whenever I am out of town or away from Bloglines for an extended period of time, as has been the case over the past couple of weeks, I go through a bit of triage reading in order to make sure I check in on my favorite people in the most efficient way. As I am doing this, a lot of the reading involves clicking and skimming to get the general gist of what's happening in the blog world. But every once in a while, a post stops me in my tracks and I read it carefully, savoring every word. This was the case this week when I read Tea's post entitled "Panforte, with Memories". You can be sure that I will be lining up to buy some panforte from Della Fattoria Bakery this week.

I'm not in San Francisco much these days, so unless I want to make panforte on my own I'll be bringing it to Seattle with me. While I'm curious to try my hand, I fear I would never come up with anything as perfect as the Della Fattoria version (and why bother, when they've done all the hard work for me?). If the knights of the crusade were able to carry panforte with them on horseback to the holy lands, mine should have no problem surviving the trip to Seattle. And carry it with me I will, for one taste of this sweet and spicy confection brings back so many memories.

We have a couple of notable new blogs in the Bay Area blogosphere these days. It's already been established that Todd at Bourbon and Branch is mixing up some of the most delicious cocktails around. And now he has started a blog called Straight Up to keep us apprised of happenings at the bar: "I hope to cover a variety of subjects including; what's happening at Bourbon & Branch and other bars around town, new cocktails & spirits and what's coming in the future at Bourbon & Branch." (via Tablehopper.

Another blog that started up last month is a blog by Nigel Walker, the farmer of Eatwell Farm. Keep an eye on his new site for news about the farm and general input about what it's like to run a small organic farm in California.

Since the moment I received Heidi Swanson's new book Super Natural Cooking in the mail, I have been consuming it at every opportunity. It's already been discussed here, so I won't go too much into it. It's a fantastic book, and you should check it out as soon as possible. But if you'd like a preview, check out one of my favorite recipes by Heidi that is also in her new book: Mesquite Chocolate Chip Cookies.

This week marks the season beginning of three reality TV shows that focus on food. Top Chef starts this Wednesday, Hell's Kitchen started last night, and The Next Food Network Star started on Sunday. My money is on Top Chef for being the most entertaining. As luck would have it, Bay Area Bites' own Stephanie is recapping Hell's Kitchen and Top Chef for Television without Pity and I look forward to reading a season's worth of her insights about these shows. Even if you don't watch the shows, it's worth reading Stephanie's recaps for hiliarious insights like this from last night's episode of Hell's Kitchen:

Ramsay wildly clutches his head when he discovers that that Vinnie is using water instead of stock in the risotto. Vinnie tries to argues that they ran out of stock, but Ramsay, who samples the risotto water, announces that it tastes like "gnat's piss." Awesome. I mean, I didn't know gnats peed in large enough volumes to allow anyone to sample the flavor, but I defer to Ramsay. Because of the gnat's piss risotto, Vinnie is sent to wash dishes while Brad takes over his station.

I went, I drank, I conquered.

Although the reservation and password hoop-jumping smacks of exclusivity and a certain snobbishness, when you see the neighborhood you see why it might be practical. Right on the corner of O'Farrell and Jones, Bourbon & Branch is firmly in the Tenderloin. I haven't exactly been taking advantage of restaurants, bars, shops, and cafes that are apparently turning this neighborhood into the Trendyloin, and now I know why. Maybe it's my Twin Cities upbringing, but I don't exactly relish walking down blocks that smell of urine and having local denizens spit at me and growl crazily as I try to look like I know where I'm going. Given that sort of thing, I understand why Bourbon & Branch might not want to have their unmarked door thrown wide to the general public.

Davina and I stood under the Anti-Saloon League sign while I grappled for the buzzer and croaked my password. The door swung open to reveal a smiling face and we were welcomed and ushered to our table. Inside, Bourbon & Branch is dark and darling. Spiky frosted glass chandeliers swing and toss their gentle cotton balls of light against mottled mirrors and the hammered copper ceiling. The cute little wooden booths have cute little wooden tables that are just wide enough to hold your drinks and just narrow enough remind you that this is not a restaurant.

After many trips to Absinthe, I have finally drunk myself to a point where I had effectively sampled all the cocktails that interested me and could leave the rest. Faced with Bourbon & Branch's massive cocktail menu, I was back at square one. I'd light on a cocktail that I was definitely going to order and I'd be all, "Check it out, this one has THYME in it!" and then a few pages and a dozen cocktail descriptions later and I'd totally forget what that original cocktail was because, "Ooh, hang on -- THIS one has pimento dram in it. Wait, what's pimento dram? I'm getting that one. No, but hang on..." and so on and so forth. I'll tell you what, I really could have used those shameless shopping stickies Lucky Magazine is so proud of.

For some reason I was expecting all the cocktails to be upwards of fifteen dollars, but there were far more ten-dollar cocktails than anything else, and since that shruggingly seems to be the average price of cocktails in the Bay Area, I wasn't bothered. The drinks are pure and clean and inventive. After the delightful Prosecco-based amuse bouche cocktail they offered us -- a cocktail amuse bouche? I'm loving this idea! -- I started out with a delicious and refreshing Cracked Thumb (gin, lemon oil, elderflower syrup, mint). Given that I'm a gin girl and elderflower really crushes my ice, it was sort of a safe bet for me. What wasn't a safe bet was my order of an Aperol Spritz. Davina, who likes Campari, encouraged me, who does not like Campari, to give it a whirl. I did and I liked. Maybe it's the gentian and rhubarb, but I found the Aperol to be a kinder, gentler version of its bitter, angry spinster aunt.

My one complaint is that when Davina asked our server if the bartender could concoct something using gin and falernum, the server was clearly rattled. Bartenders do this all the time -- hello? It's pretty much their job description -- so this shouldn't have been a big deal. It's not like Davina asked for something bizarre like hot chocolate, benedictine, and Cynar. I don't blame the bartender, who did pour out something delicious, I just don't think the server should have acted as though it was a weird or inconvenient request.

Some out there are already sneering that B&B "ripped off" Milk and Honey's concept. Well, but see, Milk and Honey is in New York, and I'm in San Francisco and B&B is in San Francisco, so I say rip away! I mean really, isn't the country large enough for several of these speakeasies? I would certainly hope so.