Plow is not new. But there are some spots in the city that warrant constant discussion well after opening day; Plow is one such place. In April 2010, Joel Bleskacek and Maxine Siu, ex-Oliveto folks, decided to take the plunge and open a small restaurant in their Potrero Hill neighborhood. It is a warm, bustling spot at the base of the hill with a handsome bar, a number of cozy tables and tons of natural light. The wait can be long on a Saturday or Sunday but the staff is upbeat and attentive and they do an amazing job of making everyone feel at home.

I visited Plow on a recent Saturday with a few friends. We dutifully put our names on the list, were told the wait would be an hour-and-a-half, and took a seat on one of the outdoor benches to catch up. When it seemed liked we were just at the hunger-breaking-point, our names were called and we headed inside to claim a table. The food at Plow is decidedly simple; most of the ingredients are sourced from local farms and it's the kind of menu that you curse at first because it makes deciding on just one dish incredibly difficult. From the French toast with poached pears and mascarpone to the lemon ricotta pancakes or cider-brined pork chop -- it's a very tough call. I say start with some Equator coffee and then leave the French toast and pancakes for one of Plow's remarkable egg dishes.

Soft Scrambled Eggs and Crispy Potatoes

Plow does eggs well. Really, really well. And after reading Ruth Reichl's piece in Gilt Taste on How to Make Better Scrambled Eggs, eggs have been on my mind lately. While I was truthfully shocked at the amount of butter Ruth Reichl describes (1 stick of butter/4 eggs), I have a hunch Plow's eggs follow suit. They are light and fluffy, the kind of scrambled eggs you know you just can't replicate at home.

Savory Bread Pudding with Kale and Leeks

The savory bread pudding has a little warning that it's only available "until it's gone." You know what that means: get there early to snag a piece because they do often sell out. And I can see why. Packed with kale and leeks and a touch of Gruyere, it's hearty but not in a cumbersome, soporific way. Instead, it's actually quite light and really celebrates the vegetables and cheese while avoiding a common mistake of adding too much salt or over-baking. We opted for crispy potatoes instead of the side salad that it's usually served with. Pleasantly salty and, true to their name, crispy as heck these are some of the best breakfast potatoes I've had in quite some time. There's nothing worse than waiting well over an hour in the San Francisco winter wind for a plate of soggy potatoes. That won't be the case here.

Eggs Benedict with Spinach and Mushrooms

And then we come to the ultimate in egg celebration: the Eggs Benedict with fennel pollen Hollandaise sauce. While the eggs are poached perfectly here, I did find the English Muffin to be a little spongy for my taste. But everything is thoughtfully done at Plow, from the finely chopped chives sprinkled on top of the eggs to the variety of mushrooms or the attentive coffee refills and warm service. And have I mentioned those crispy potatoes?

So in short, there are a lot of spots to get brunch in the city. There are the classics, like Brenda's, Foreign Cinema and Absinthe. And then quieter show-stoppers like 15 Romolo or Southern favorite Farmer Brown. But trust me when I tell you: if you're looking for some very special eggs in a very special atmosphere, Plow is where it's at.

Plow
1299 18th street
(between Mississippi St & Texas St)
San Francisco, CA 94107
(415) 821-7569
Hours: Tues-Fri 7am - 2pm; Sat-Sun 8am - 2pm

When it's a beautiful, summer-like Friday night in October, it's probably one of the most challenging times to try and get a table anywhere in the Marina without a reservation. But while some folks are willing to stand in line and wait for hours for the new iPhone 4S, I was committed to getting into the new location of Umami Burger, the famed mini-empire from Los Angeles. As I'd never had the opportunity to try one of their much-ballyhooed burgers down in SoCal, I was looking forward to finally sampling their fare. They had opened their doors on October 7, much to the delight of the Bay Area foodie crowd which has already packed Yelp with their reviews with its first week.

I rounded up some fellow colleagues from KQED (one who jokingly refers to herself as a "meatoutatarian," which means she'll only eat red meat when out dining) to join me in line. I'm glad I had the company of my colleagues as the wait was long: over an hour and a half long. Granted, as mentioned before, it was Friday night and the hype factor was in full effect, but some seating snafus at the front of the house had our party of three overlooked and not called when we were next in line. The hostesses were cheerful for the most part -- as cheerful as they could be while wrangling the horde milling about the front door -- and we were finally seated in the back of the restaurant. (If you're a lucky duo, you'll get one of the sidewalk tables that's out front while this lovely weather lasts.)

The Union Street location of Umami Burger is housed in the former location of Jovino. (According to one of my KQED colleagues who lives in the neighborhood and had dined their regularly, they were also known for their excellent burgers during its run.) The interior space itself has a spare, Asian aesthetic with wood accents and muted colors. The noise isn't overpowering, even when packed to full capacity was it was tonight.

After we settled in, our server asked if this was our first time dining at the restaurant, then gave us an explanation of the meaning of "umami" and their mission statement. We ordered an array of burgers to share: the Greenbird ($12), the Umami Burger ($11), and their priciest, most decadent item, the Bacon-Wrapped Scallop Burger ($15, topped with crispy pork belly and only available at this location). I was curious about their Cali Burger and its "house-made American cheese," and apparently there's some cheese alchemy involved as they create their own special blend of cheeses in the kitchen (which are not made from scratch). Sides are ordered separately, and during our wait I had spotted other diners eating tater tots. Our server explained that these "cheesy tater tots" were now a secret menu item since they often sold out but were available for the asking. We ordered those along with a side of truffled cheese fries.

The fried items arrived first, and we dipped them into the Asian soup spoon filled with their house-made Umami ketchup. They were both delicious, especially the tater tots, which were crispy on the outside and the texture and flavor of creamy mashed potatoes on the inside. Later on we also asked for their complimentary jalapeño ranch sauce (which wasn't really appealing to any of us as it was reminiscent of cheap nacho chips) and the garlic aioli (fantastic).

Then the burgers came shortly thereafter, and they were impressively plated on large white dishes with a "U" stamped on top of their brioche-like buns. The medium-rare, juicy Umami Burger was definitely our favorite, as the shiitake mushrooms, caramelized onions, roasted tomato, parmesan crisp, and umami ketchup toppings delivered a wonderfully savory combination as promised.

Bacon-Wrapped Scallop Burger on the left, Umami Burger on the right.

I was partial to the Greenbird next; the Shelton Farms turkey had been seasoned with a blend of spices that made it taste unlike any other I'd ever had. It was truly original and delicious, and accompanied with avocado, green cheese (more house-made cheese magic from the kitchen), butter lettuce, green goddess dressing and sprouts. My colleague was curious about these sprouts as they had had black seeds; our server had assumed they were alfalfa sprouts, but after some inquiries were made to the kitchen it was determined they were onion sprouts.

Sadly, I wasn't as impressed with the Bacon-Wrapped Scallop Burger, which had two lean slices of somewhat tough pork belly dressed with a sweet chili sauce and yuzu-garlic aioli on top of the scallop patty (which reminded me more of a fried egg than scallops). The blend of flavors just didn't match up to the Umami Burger and I was disappointed with the quality of the pork belly; I'll have to try it again in the future to see if it holds up on another occasion.

Although we were stuffed, we ended our meal with one of their house-made ice cream sandwiches as the peanut-butter cookie made with salt-and-pepper ice cream (the flavor of that day which are rotated regularly) piqued our curiosity. The cookies were quite crisp and thus made it difficult to share (I think it's better as a solo dessert) and the ice cream had a vinegar tang to it instead of a peppery quality we were expecting. Not outstanding, but definitely not the main draw of the restaurant, either.

So did I find it to be worth the wait? Yes, although I probably won't head back anytime soon unless it's during the presumably quieter hours of the weekday. And our bill ended up at $34 each (we'd also ordered one drink apiece), so it's not like a cheap run to In-N-Out. But I'd love to try some of their other items off the menu, especially the Cali and Veggie Burgers, which are only available at the Union Street location. If you don't have the stomach to wait for too long, walk up to the bar and order to-go. We saw one lucky resident who lived right next door walk in, pick up his order and slipped right back upstairs for private dining in his apartment.

Umami Burger
2184 Union St at Fillmore map
415-440-UMAMI
Twitter: @UmamiBurgerSF
Facebook: Umami Burger
Hours:
Sun-Thurs: 11AM-10PM
Fri and Sat: 11AM-10PM

This week's culinary tour guide is Sean Timberlake, half of Team Hedonia and the mastermind behind Punk Domestics. As a food blogger for five years running, Sean is known around these parts as the go-to guy for food-related advice. Want to pickle some vegetables? Preserve your grandma's strawberries? Find the perfect place to take your beloved for a very special dinner? He's your guy.

Non-locals might not think to peruse neighborhoods such as the Castro and Noe Valley when looking for distinctive dining experiences, but Sean, a longtime San Francisco resident, has some awesome tips to share on the part of SF lesser known for their edible offerings. Remember: there's more to San Francisco food than the Mission and North Beach!

What are your favorite summer food events? What makes them so special?
I consider the farmers markets each their own discrete events. The produce is ever-changing, and each market has its own strengths. I love the Castro and Noe Valley farmers markets, but for different reasons. Castro's got great bakeries (oh the irony, considering the carb-phobic demographic) and gorgeous fruit (no comment); Noe Valley has Prather Ranch every other week, plus kooky musicians to entertain the kids. Just watch yourself around the stroller bank. It can get tight. 

When the weather heats up, what are your favorite places to eat in San Francisco?
Because we have relatively few places with outdoor seating in San Francisco, they get busy when the weather is favorable, so I often avoid them. But I can be swayed to hang out at The Ramp over a couple of beers, and I've recently become enamored with the new Bluestem Brasserie downtown. Their upstairs balcony is a great spot to watch the world go by. 

Where are your favorite ice cream places in SF? What's your favorite flavor there?
Like everyone, I love both Bi-Rite Creamery and Humphry Slocombe, but I'm still a Mitchell's loyalist, and there's a spot right in my neighborhood, Subs, Inc. in Noe Valley, that carries it. Mostly I'm a purist. I'm really happiest with simple vanilla, or maybe pistachio. But sometimes I like to get adventurous. At Marco Polo out in Parkside, they have some edgier flavors, like black sesame or the infamous durian. I tried the latter once. I've got a broad palate, but even I was not ready to commit to a whole scoop. Yet. 

Is Noe Valley a culinary contender in San Francisco?
Noe Valley can't compete with the Mission, but we have a few gems. Contigo, the Cal-Catalan place on Castro, is our hands-down favorite restaurant in the city, and we are frequent diners at Incanto as well. Firefly still manages to turn out good food after all these years from its dot-com darling days, and Le Zinc has a lovely brunch. I get the brik every time. 

What other little-known neighborhoods are up and coming in the food scene? 
Hayes Valley has a charming food scene, and the Castro is finally coming into its own culinarily, after years as a virtual dining desert. Frances gets all the attention, and it's great, but little L'Ardoise in Duboce Triangle is unjustly overlooked. Starbelly is a crowd pleaser. And since Blackbird came on the scene, we even have honest to god cocktails in the 'Stro. We're not in Kansas anymore! 

A big crowd gathered last night at the Make-Out Room to celebrate Mission Street Food's forthcoming cookbook, "Mission Street Food: Recipes and Ideas From An Improbable Restaurant," published by McSweeney's new cookbook imprint.

Unfortunately, the cookbooks were tied up at customs and so no copies were to be had for the foodie groupies. But there was music, free beer, a short and funny presentation given by MSF duo Anthony Myint and Karen Leibowitz and Popeye's fried chicken -- lots of it. Apparently this chicken holds a soft spot in their hearts, especially Anthony's.

Anthony and Karen also took time out of their busy schedules to answer a few questions via email about their new project.

1) You've had quite a journey in the past 3 years, from street food vendor, to Mission Burger, Commonwealth, Mission Chinese Food and now you're launching a cookbook. What was your initial inspiration for the cookbook?

Our editor, Chris Ying, suggested we write about Mission Street Food, because he was starting McSweeney’s food imprint. We hadn’t been planning to write a book—as you mention, the last few years have been a bit of a whirlwind for us—but actually, the process of writing has helped us make sense of everything that’s happened. The story of MSF’s evolution takes about as much space in our book as the recipes, because we wanted to show how the food came out of our peculiar circumstances as an ever-changing pop-up restaurant.

2) There are loads of Chinese cookbooks out there. What will folks come away with from the Mission Chinese Street Food's book that's unique?

In this book, we really focused on recipes from the Mission Street Food era, rather than Mission Chinese Food. The book’s cover is modeled on a classic American-Chinese restaurant placemat, because we wanted to reflect the way that MSF was contained within Lung Shan, though our food was inspired by culinary traditions from around the world. The recipes in our book reflect that international approach to cooking, so you’ll find our version of Peking Duck juxtaposed with our version of a Nordic dessert, and we happily admit that neither is “authentic.”

3) How would you compare the collaborative cookbook writing process to your food ventures? Was it harder, easier, and/or gratifying in other ways?

Writing the book was probably a little bit easier than starting Mission Street Food, because the hours were more flexible. We worked very closely on the book, and literally passed the laptop back and forth between us as we talked. Working in a restaurant can be so ephemeral—if the food is good, then it disappears—so it’s nice to have something so solid that we can point to, and say “We made this!”

4) What's up next for Mission Chinese Food? Any plans to expand?

Hard to say. We’re definitely bursting the seams of our current arrangement, but our priority has always been to make food that’s really personal, so we don’t have any plans to expand right now.

5) The book party for your cookbook served up Popeye's fried chicken. What's the connection to Mission Street Food?

Well, there’s no connection between Popeye’s and Mission Street Food, but we do discuss how Popeye’s deserves culinary respect for their combination of deliciousness and low price—part of a general open-mindedness towards various foods.

Enjoying Humphry Slocombe Ice Cream. Photo: Sabrina Modelle

The Bay Area is finally seeing 75+ degree weather, and both locals and tourists are out in full force, soaking up some much-needed vitamin D. Dolores Park is packed from corner to corner, the bubble tea shops have lines out the door, and street food vendors are crowding the alleyways and sidewalks.

When the weather warrants sunscreen, what better activities are there to take part in than those that involve eating? Right now is the time to enjoy an epic ice cream sundae while sitting enjoying the sun on a restaurant's outdoor patio, or grab a gourmet pizza and chow down in the park. But how do you know where to eat?

Sure you can just grab a burrito from your favorite taqueria, or walk around the Mission District while following your nose, but we thought we'd offer you a few tips on must-taste opportunities during these gorgeous summer days. We've tapped two local food bloggers to share their inside tips on the best edible offerings around town: meet Irvin Lin of Eat the Love and Sabrina Modelle of The Tomato Tart, your honorary culinary guides for the summer, as they provide insider advice on the best summer fare around the bay.

SF Chefs -- Chef Anthony Strong of Locanda. Photo: Sabrina Modelle

What are your favorite summer food events? What makes them so special?

Irvin: Hands down, my favorite summer food event is the San Francisco Street Food Festival. Street food is often where the innovation is happening in the food world. Though the lines are long, the food is always wonderful to eat and there is always a sense of discovery when you go there. This will be the third annual event (I believe it's scheduled August 20th), sponsored by the fantastic incubation kitchen La Cocina, and there will be established restaurants there as well as unknown vendors. This year sounds even better as they've not only expanded into some parking lots and it coincides with the National Street Food conference.

Sabrina: Since it began two years ago, the Eat Real Fest in Oakland has fallen on my anniversary weekend and my husband and I have had a street food anniversary date. We love strolling around Jack London square drinking local beer, sampling real street food, taking in food demos, and hanging out by the water's edge. This year, it's moved back to September, but since that feels like our summer anyway, I'll include it. I'm also really looking forward to SF Chefs this year. It will be my first time attending, but the preview events started last weekend with an amazing pasta-making demo with Chef Anthony Strong of Locanda and Chef Charles Phan of The Slanted Door. You can catch me hanging out at upcoming preview events each Saturday in July. This Saturday will feature Rachel Saunders of Blue Chair Fruit Jam.

When the weather heats up, what are your favorite places to eat in San Francisco?

Irvin: I absolutely love going to Bi-Rite Market and grabbing a sandwich and heading to the park. Though people complain that Bi-Rite Market is packed with people (navigating the crowds in the tiny store on a sunny weekend is a pain) the secret to getting a decent sandwich there and not going crazy is to call ahead. Just check out their website, look at the deli section and call ahead and place your order for your sandwich. Then ten minutes later, pop on over and just pick it up at the register, no fuss. Walk on over to Dolores Park where the people watching is fantastic and the late summer sun will shine on your face.

Sabrina: When it's hot, I love eating on my little patio, of course. I'm in The Mission, so picking up some essentials from Bi-Rite and throwing together a quick salad is my preferred course of action. If we're going out, I love to eat sushi when it's warm. There's nothing that can compare to the freshness and simplicity of ingredients in well-prepared Japanese cuisine. I'm currently in love with Ichi Sushi. I think Tim Archuletta is amazing -- both because he's very talented and I've enjoyed sitting across the bar and chatting with him. Sushi Bistro on 24th is another favorite for really fresh nigiri, the sushi chef is just amazing and I suggest trying whatever he recommends.

Caprese salad on the patio. Photo: Sabrina Modelle

Where is your favorite ice cream place in SF? What's your favorite flavor there?

Irvin: I adore Humphry Slocombe, and I think Mr. and Mrs. Miscellaneous is fantastic, I'm a Bi-Rite Creamery sort of guy. Again, part of it is the Dolores Park appeal, where you can buy some ice cream and walk over to the park, but part of it is the secret shortcuts that make me feel like I'm in the know. Everyone complains the lines are ridiculous (and they are) but rarely is the line long over a the soft serve window. Even better, if you know what flavors you like, go directly to the cold case in the main part of the ice cream shop and just buy a pint, bypassing the line completely. My partner AJ loves their signature Salted Caramel, but I'm a fan of the Honey Lavender. Rich, floral with a touch of sweetness, I get it every time.

Sabrina: I am a big fan of Humphry Slocombe. I'm exactly two blocks away from their store, and when we first moved in, I actually had a little problem. I had to set rules either one scoop of ice cream or one Dynamo Donut once per week. The ice cream pretty much always won out. Now, I've slowed down on my consumption quite a bit, and I visit about once a month or so. I love their salted licorice, their brown butter, and of course, the first thing I ever tried the ancho chili chocolate.

Ichi Sushi. Photo: Sabrina Modelle

Photo courtesy of New Taste Marketplace.

Amid the pop-ups, underground markets and food truck parties taking place on a daily basis in the Bay Area, New Taste Marketplace stands out with its low-key vibe, terrific vendors and fundraising mission. Held at St. Gregory's Church in Potrero Hill, New Taste Marketplace takes place once a month and features approximately 30 food vendors selling hot dishes to eat on-the-spot and artisan foods to take home. Community members and families sit on the altar and in spots all over the church listening to music and eating everything from Asian-fusion cupcakes to Thai curries and pierogis. "Think of it like an overgrown bake sale," says Elianna Friedman, Market Director.

Customers gain access to New Taste Marketplace by giving a small donation, which goes to The Food Pantry and St. Gregory's to support their efforts to provide food to San Francisco's hungry. Since its inception in November 2010, New Taste has raised over $10,000—money that goes toward a food giveaway that takes place each week at St. Gregory's. "I love that New Taste is held in the exact space as the food pantry on Fridays," says Friedman. "I hope that it adds to the sense of giving and community."

The vendors that you'll find at New Taste are small and mostly only found at other similar markets around the Bay Area. On a recent visit to New Taste, I took home rabbit pate from Dehesa Foods, goat cheese mozzarella from Faerie Goatmother, kimchi from Monchi Foods and wheat pasta from Baia Pasta.

"The same vendors don't come every time, which creates space for new vendors," Friedman commented. "Some vendors outgrow the market, and they move into something more permanent." Markets such as New Taste are serving as incubators for food vendors around the city.

Dandelion Chocolate is a small "bean-to-bar" chocolate company based in the Mission that is about two years old. Alice Nystrom of Dandelion enjoys that the Marketplace gives Dandelion's founders a chance to interface directly with the customer. "We always sell a lot more chocolate when we're able to tell our story," she says. "Customers who come are really curious, they have a lot of questions about our chocolate and our company. They are really eager to see all these small businesses and support them."

Cafe Mereb is one of the few brick-and-mortar businesses that participates in New Taste. It's a family-owned Mediterranean and Eritrean resturant in the Richmond that uses New Taste to market to new customers in a different part of the city, and to test new recipes. Cafe Mereb participates in New Taste every 2 months, and offers Eritrean specialties like a lamb stew called tibsi, a slow-cooked chickpea stew called shurro take-home items such as berbere spices and a ghee-like spiced, clarified butter called tesmi. Elilta Habtetsion participates in the market on behalf of her family's restaurant and sees a lot of value in participating in a market like New Taste. "It's been very positive, and we've seen a few people stop by our cafe. It's great to talk to people one-on-one, and give our restaurant a little more exposure, and we love the venue."

For those curious about how New Taste Marketplace is allowed to exist, while the San Francisco Underground Market was shut down last month by the Health Department, the answer has to do with the fact that the New Taste Marketplace operates under the umbrella of a non-profit organization (The Food Pantry) and is a fundraising event. The "Craven Allowance," the same rule that allows for bake sales, allows New Taste to operate. The Department of Health often drops by New Taste to make sure that vendors are following proper food handling rules.

The next New Taste Marketplace is taking place this Saturday, July 16. New Taste generally takes place once a month.

Information

New Taste Marketplace
Saturday, July 16
Noon - 5pm
St. Gregory's Church
500 De Haro Street (map)
@NewTasteMarket on Twitter
New Taste on Facebook
Interested in volunteering? Contact Elianna Friedman via email: NewTasteMarket@gmail.com

What others are saying:

"The New Taste Marketplace had a nice community feel, like a church bake sale. And it wasn't a massive clusterjam like some other underground markets in the city." - Single Guy Chef

"I had the best Thai curry of my life in a church. Specifically it was the green Thai curry made by the folks behind Nute's Cupcakes that had me over the moon this weekend." - Nicole Grant, The Bold Italic

Why wait until the weekend to visit the wine country when the wine country can come to you? The third annual Sonoma in the City is being held all this week in San Francisco with events from grand tastings to wine and food truck pairings. In fact, with over 100 vintners pouring their wines, Tuesday’s grand tasting marks the biggest tasting outside of Sonoma -- ever. The week kicked off Tuesday morning with a panel talk on Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir. Now, I don't know about you but I'm a total Pinot fan and who wouldn't be when a grape has been described as sexy, supple, elusive and elegant.

Pinot Noir has come a long way since the 2004 movie,“Sideways,” pushed Pinot sales through the roof. But behind all the hype is still the fact that it is a finicky grape to grow and Pinot Noir is a difficult wine to make. As luck would have it, some of the best Pinot Noir comes right out of the Sonoma Coast. The combination of climate (specific fog patterns), soil and just the right amount of talent make this region a top spot for Pinot Noir. Some of that talent was on the wine panel Tuesday including: Winemaker Bob Cabral with Williams Selyem, Ted Lemon of Littorai Wines and Ross Cobb of Cobb Wines.

The talk focused on site expression, how much new technology to use in making wine and the relationship between the grower and the winemaker. The talk and tasting just confirmed my admiration for Bob Cabral’s wine making and introduced me to a new wine, specifically, the 2009 Emmaline Ann Vineyard Pinot Noir from Cobb Wines. I picked up some great herbs and butterscotch in this crisp, acidic wine.

After the panel it was time for lunch which involved several iconic, aged wines. I could hardly wait to tear into the wines but first my table had to spend several minutes disagreeing about which way we taste, to the right or to the left. When you have something like 72 glasses on the table you need to have some kind of coordination, or the left handed person ends up with no wine and someone else ends up needing to take a cab home. We finally figured it out which leads me to my favorite lunch wines: A 1997 Iron Horse Vineyards Joy! Sparkling wine, a 2005 Hanzell Vineyards Chardonnay and best of all, a 1992 Silver Oak Cab. Yum.

Ross Cobb pouring a Cobb Pinot Noir

The best part of lunch for me, besides the pork belly in a green pea puree with a Papapietro Perry Pinot (say that three times fast) was that I sat next to Master Sommelier, Evan Goldstein. The food and wine vet was kind of busy leading a cadre of winemakers through the various lunch courses but I did talk with him about California’s efforts to pull back from the big oak Chardonnays and I asked him about the controversial new state law which, starting in 2014, will require the inclusion of “Sonoma County” on the front label of all Sonoma County wines. Goldstein said it was a terrific question but didn’t want to register an opinion. Winemakers are an individualistic bunch and don’t like to be told what to do. Many feel the new requirement crowds their label but the Sonoma County Vintners hope it will build brand name for Sonoma.

After lunch it was on to the grand tasting for the rest of the folks and time for me to return to work, wishing I had 'spit' a bit more during the morning course and lunch.

Sonoma in the City remaining public events:

Thursday, July 14, 2011: Forks and Corks at the Firehouse, 5:30 p.m.–8:30 p.m. Fort Mason, San Francisco.

Friday, July 15, 2011: Vin 12 presents Sonoma Valley Wines, 5:30 p.m.–9p.m. at Sloane, 1525 Mission St, San Francisco

A calendar and links to all tickets can be found at sonomawine.com/sf.

On one lovely sunny afternoon in early January, my friend Pamela Palma and I decided to take a coffee break in the backyard of General Store, a quaint little shop in the Outer Richmond located next door to Trouble Coffee. We were taking a leisurely bike ride around the city and around 3 o'clock -- that magic hour that's perfect for a little caffeine boost -- we were both craving some coffee.

As we sat within the quiet walls of that peaceful sanctuary and sipped our drinks, we came upon the idea of creating an extended version of that day's journey: a bicycle tour that visited several of our favorite coffee shops throughout the city. As we're both cycling enthusiasts and devotees of good food and drink, this was the perfect blend of our passions.

We quickly came up with a list that would loop around the city, thus allowing our friends to burn off some caffeine if they chose to indulge themselves at each location: Sightglass Coffee in SOMA; just right around the corner at Mission and 7th Street is De La Paz Coffee at their new location; Blue Bottle Coffee at the Ferry Building Marketplace; Trouble Coffee on Judah and 46th Street near Ocean Beach; Ritual Roasters at Flora Grubb Gardens; and Four Barrel Coffee in the Mission.

We set the date for early April and spread the word to our friends. Folks were encouraged to bring their own mugs and a steel stomach.

On the bright spring morning of the ride, close to 50 folks showed up for our 25-mile excursion. We hadn't warned any of the shops that we'd be arriving en masse, so our arrival felt a bit like a flash mob descending on the baristas. Their lazy Sunday turned into a Monday morning-like rush, but they were happy to accomodate us one drip coffee at a time.

After lingering at Sightglass for an hour, we ended up bypassing De La Paz as they were still renovating their new space. Onwards to the Ferry Building, where people also fueled up with Blue Bottle's delicious caramelized Belgian-style waffles. The energy came in handy as we wove through Fisherman's Wharf, Ft. Mason, zoomed past Crissy Field and climbed up through the hilly Presidio. We spread out along the vast lanes of The Great Highway, which was conveniently closed off for Sunday Streets.

Giulietta Carrelli, the proprietor of Trouble Coffee, greeted us warmly at our third stop and rang up our orders. Folks filled up on their renowned fresh coconut water and thick-sliced toast slathered with cinnamon and butter, peanut butter or Nutella. And of course, we guzzled more coffee as there was still lots of riding on the agenda.

After a much-needed pit stop at a public bathroom on La Playa, we meandered up the long, slow incline of Sloat Avenue, then cut through to Monterey Boulevard. Alemany Boulevard took us down to Hunter's Point, and we soon descended upon Flora Grubb Gardens, a lovely urban oasis located in Bayview. The line for Ritual Roasters was bit shorter, as people were well-buzzed, hungry for dinner and ready to retire for the day. We made an executive decision to end the tour there and Four Barrel would have to wait another time.

Pamela and I were thrilled to discover that we were able to introduce many of our friends to new shops and bike routes within the city. You can try out our route by following the Google Map below. Approximately half of it follows bike paths and streets with bike lanes. It's an intermediate ride with several climbs throughout the city loop, so feel free to reference the San Francisco Bike Map to get approximations of elevation or to plot out an easier course. Be sure to stay well-hydrated, wear a helmet and have fun!

View San Francisco Coffee Ride! in a larger map

Check out more photos from our coffee ride from Pamela Palma's Flickr set.

Buon Natale!

There are a lot of reasons that we love Italy here in San Francisco. The heritage of our city, caught in the hiss of a thousand espresso machines every morning and the beckoning scent of chopped garlic sizzling in olive oil at night, is a melting pot, to be sure, but a fine portion of the pot can be traced back to Genoa and Liguria, Venice and Rome, Sicily and Sardinia. Here, like there, we make wine, press olives, harvest rosemary from the hillsides and basil from our backyards. And naturally, we eat, drink, and talk about eating and drinking with gusto and boundless energy.

December in Bologna, where I used to live, looks a lot like a slow-food, un-commercial dream of Christmas: no tinsel, no Jingle Bells, just pine boughs across the windowsills, tiny white lights looped across the narrow streets radiating off the central square, and in the steamy-windowed caffes, thick-as-pudding ciccolatta calda (hot chocolate) topped with a snowball of whipped cream. The busiest shops are the ones selling food, no surprise in a city that's been obsessed with seeking both knowledge (the University of Bologna is one of Europe's oldest seats of learning) and the pleasures of the table for centuries.

No Italian, it seems, can set foot in another's home at Christmastime without bringing a panettone, a puffy yeasted sweet bread studded with candied fruit. And so, brightly colored boxes the size of football helmets were stacked 10 deep at every shop, some lavishly striped with chocolate-hazelnut gianduia, others the simplest plain pane d'oro, without nuts or fruit.

(And once they go on sale, the week after Christmas--we scored ours for 1 euro--they make extravagantly delicious French toast, especially after a New Year's Eve spent elbow-to-elbow in the main plaza watching fireworks and downing prosecco straight from the bottle.)

Like the euro, panettone are ubiquitous throughout Italy now, with no particular regional association. But everywhere the panettone was, so was the local specialty, certosino, a flat, glossy spiced fruitcake glistening with translucent candied cherries and nuts. In the pasta shops, between the usual trays of eggy fresh tagliatelle were heaps of tiny, hand-pinched tortellini, the pride of Bologna, filled with a rich mixture of veal and mortadella and ready to be floated in golden capon broth to start the Christmas dinner.

In the butcher shops, fat zampone the size of a baby's pudgy arm were on proud display. There's no delicate way to describe zampone: it's a pig's trotter, bones removed, packed with a savory meat stuffing and then sewn back up so that it looks ready to walk. Simmered a long time, then served with lentils, it's a traditional dish in Emilia-Romagna, especially around New Year's.

In the sweet shops, there were shiny boxes of dreamy, hazelnut-layered Fiat Cremino and Fiat Noir chocolates, made by Majani, but also chunks of carbone, crunchy lumps of rock candy dyed black to look like coal. (It seems naughty Italian children are also in danger of getting coal for Christmas.) Santa Claus, that jolly toy-toting American immigrant, has made some inroads, but traditionally, gifts for children come not on Christmas Day but on Epiphany, delivered by a beneficent witch known as La Befana.

We saw her--or at least a convincing, black-shawled version of her--riding in a carriage through the streets of Bologna on the morning of January 6. A well-dressed older gentleman ahead of us, cellphone pressed to his ear, turned his head as she rode by. "Ah, ecco La Befana!" he said, in perfect seriousness, before resuming his conversation.

Bologna loves its salume (it is the home of mortadella, bastardized here into baloney) and its culatello, not to mention the sweet-salty proscuitto produced in nearby Parma. That Christmas, I learned the way to get the best proscuitto was to follow hard on the heels of the bossiest elderly lady customer in the shop. Once she'd picked out, after much discussion, the exact haunch of proscuitto she wanted out of the many in the shop, I'd hover in her wake. As soon as her purchase was wrapped up, I'd hustle to the counter, before the leg could be lifted off the slicer, and request a few etti (100 grams) of lo stesso (the same). (This technique can also be used very successfully re: smoked salmon in Jewish delis.)

Another tradition that really came into its own at this time of year was the aperitivi spread. No corner caffe-bar would dream of serving drinks without putting out a little free something to snack on. It could be just little squares of leftover panini and a bowl of olives, or a whole mini-buffet, but it's common throughout Italy in the evening. Only in Bologna does aperitivi happen before lunch, too.

Well, perche non? The holidays seemed like a great time to take advantage of this, especially when friends came to visit. It was a cultural mandate, after all. After a Christmas Eve morning spent browsing through churches (each with an extravagant creche on display), excellent chocolate shops, and tiny, fiercely bustling cheese stores (but giving the equine butcher shops--marked by the golden horse heads out front--a wide berth), we ducked into a nearby caffe for a couple glasses of prosecco. The counter was loaded with an especially lavish display of tasty little snacks for the taking--craggy chunks of parmesan and cubes of mortadella, proscuitto wrapped around the skinny bread sticks known as grissini, olives, sweet roasted red peppers, artichoke hearts, a hot cheese dip kept warm over a candle--and the perpetually chic Italians around us were happily munching. Behind the counter, one of the equally chic workers paused and held up her own glass of bubbles.

"Buon Natale!" she said, looking out over the bar. "Buon Natale a tutti!"

In September, I'm moving to Los Angeles to go back to school. I'm not an L.A. person. I hate the Lakers, and I don't like driving. Huge, expansive, smog-clogged cities I can't wrap my head around make me want to stay home, not go out. That said, I'm warming up, doing my best. I'm fixing to buy a car and invest in less embarrassing sunglasses. A few days a week, I may even trade in my basketball high-tops for a wetsuit and a Costco surfboard. We'll see. I know Los Angeles is a special food city -- from Koreatown barbecue joints, to tamales at Grand Central Market, to Armenian chicken joint chains and Indian regional cuisine in Artesia. Immense, spread-out, far harder to make sense of, sort out, and "get" than San Francisco, a relatively tiny, practically universally food-obsessed, and media-rich place, Los Angeles poses challenges to a dedicated chaser of delicious things, particularly one accustomed to walking to his favorite restaurants. Still, if food doesn't get me out of the house, nothing will. I will be a hermit, confined to my desk, writing about whatever I see drifting past my window. I'm leaving San Francisco. I want to come back, I intend to, but I know, either way, its time for me to log a few years in a new setting. Perhaps doing so will make me appreciate this city even more.

There's nothing like leaving a place to make you want to make sure you know it before you go. For some people, that means tearing through favorite shops, haunting beloved beaches, and catching up with old friends. For me, that means eating. To that end, I've made a list of a few things I need to eat between now and September, dishes I associate with the eight years I've spent here. Importantly, I'm not eating in order to remember my favorite flavors (though I do that too). Instead, I'm trying to leave town only after taking stock of the time I've spent here, and for someone whose evolving eating habits keep time as well as any clock, keeping the hallmarks at the forefront of my mind simultaneously keep me connected to the people I've known and the places I've frequented. I'm not speaking of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco, the institutions, the destinations, the places I've gone to for special occasions. My fairly recent dinner at Coi looms infinitely larger as a meal than the countless times I, as a lunch-breaking paralegal, bought a salad at Foccacia on Sacramento St., but the fact I ate at Foccacia so often means I do have a lot of time tied up there, a period of my life, really, several years during which I ate one of the establishment's salads nearly once a week.

Tasty as it is, Ti Couz's Salade de Maree is similarly not one of the best things I've eaten in San Francisco. It is, however, one of the first things I ate when I arrived. In late 2002, my roommate, a friend from college, and I would go there for brunch, sit outside, drink Bloody Marys, and munch through massive bowls of rice, greens, capers, grape tomatoes, tiny soft scallops, baby shrimp, hard-boiled eggs, cauliflower, green beans, and strips of seared tuna. The dressing was light and lemony. Some people wake up with coffee; I prefer alcohol and acidity.

When I think of the pizza I have enjoyed here, Pizzeria Delfina is tops, particularly a special pie with green garlic and speck they ran last Spring. Nonetheless, for every molten Panna and sweet, blistered Margherita I have downed at lovely lunches and dinners with friends and family, I've eaten a dozen slices without a hint of artisanal pretense at Serrano's. Serrano's sits on 21st, not far from Valencia. Until Fall of 2004, I lived a block away, on Valencia and 22nd, and during that time, the tiny take-out spot was my go-to: Long, floppy, free-form double-slices festooned with an infinitely customizable array of toppings and cooked to order. The routine -- stepping up, asking for a slice, and rattling off the toppings you want -- encourages ordering hubris -- say, extra garlic, spinach, barbecued chicken, corn, feta cheese...

In 2004 -- or was it 2005 -- I played my first show in San Francisco, a mid-week affair at the Hotel Utah Saloon. Over the next couple of years, I played the SoMa venue at least a half-dozen times. I liked -- and still like -- the bar's long, shiny bar, miniature balcony, and prow-like opening into the tiny music room, but a lot of what made playing the Utah so fun was having a bite before the show, specifically an excellent house-made veggie burger patty on a well-toasted bun with good, crispy fries. I associate the Utah's veggie burger with getting started playing music with my best friends in San Francisco, which makes it something to remember, even if I've had plenty of great real burgers on other occasions.

Taqueria Vallarta made me switch from burritos to tacos, at least on occasion. Vallarta's tacos are tiny, inexpensive, and greasy, topped with concentrated, grill-stewed meats and soft onion strips cooked down to their essence. The meats are arranged in pinwheels along the inside of a silver, bowl-like surface. They bleed into each other, cabeza tangled up with chicken, chorizo mussing up the pastor. Tellingly, I don't think I've ever eaten these tacos for lunch or dinner, but for the three years I left at the edge of Potrero Hill, near General Hospital, they were the only snack I had.

Like a lot of San Franciscans, I shop at farmer's markets, but I've never been devoted just out of a desire to obtain nice produce directly from farmers. A lot of why I love getting up early -- even before a morning basketball game -- to poke through the stalls at Alemany has to do with the ready-to-eat wares. Yes, Alemany's row of low-profile tents can't touch the Ferry Building's well-publicized armada of awnings, but the prices there are accordingly higher, the clientele less diverse, and the vibe generally tonier and less regular-feeling. When I started going to Alemany, I ate breakfast as I shopped. Usually -- still -- I buy a cold samosa from the Sukhi's stand, and gnaw at it as I rummage through bins for unpocked sweet potatoes and fresh-looking chard. It's never the most perfectly seasoned samosa I have eaten, but for me, it trumps any muffin in town.

I look back at this list I have just written and laugh. For someone who has dashed all over town to taste new things, my regular noshes don't stray far from where I've lived. I've been all over the Bay Area, but nearly all of my abodes have been in the Mission. Even as far as fairly inexpensive eats go, I've had great Thai at Lers Ros in the Tenderloin, amazing Lao in Oakland at Vientian Cafe, soup dumplings at Yank Sing and Shanghai Dumpling King in the Richmond, a stunningly tasty torta ahogada at Mi Barrio in Fruitvale, and dosas at, well, Dosa, but when it comes to making sense of what I associate with my time here, these five entries, mundane, largely forgettable, are the tastes that came to mind. Even if they don't reflect my favorites, they do reflect the person I've been -- busy, inclined to eat for convenience, often within a few strides of my apartment. When I started writing about food in 2008, I started eating better on a regular basis. The work hasn't been lucrative by any means, but I eat richly, which reminds me: That might be why I got into it in the first place.