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Wednesday, October 31, 2001
This summer we both took in Andrew Bourdain's "Kitchen Confidential." Since reading his description of a chef's callouses and scars -- palms so padded that oven mitts are redundant -- I've longed for some hard hands of my own.
Progress has been slow. In the spring I had a knife fight with an onion -- It made me cry. I called it yellow. Things escalated. -- and a nice yarmulke-shaped scar now crowns my left ring finger. This morning I bare-handed a pan of home fries from my oven; a tiny blister has glimmered all afternoon. Nonetheless, my hands are a long way from having the tenderness of granite that I desire.
posted by Luke at 11:37 AM | Comment?
Monday, October 29, 2001
Through either miracle or sleight of hand -- or maybe sleight of accounting -- the silly little Internet consultancy for whom I have worked for over two years, under one name or another, has survived the whole Internet boom and bust. Not only is my job still intact, but the company still has, incredibly, the capacity to fly me to other offices for weeks at a time to help with projects. And so it is with much joy, to say nothing of surprise, that I currently find myself working out of the San Francisco office for a stretch of seven weeks -- not four, as originally assumed. Armed with an expense account and an appetite for Californian cuisine, I plan to take in as much of the culinary delights out here as I can stomach. Hopefully, these experiences will spark some ideas for this blog. (Because frankly, it's been a tad malnourished lately.)
Here's one to get started. Peering into the window of a North Beach establishment Saturday night, I witnessed an interesting contraption: Above the requisite candle on every table was a wire container. On occupied tables, the container held a dish, and in the dish were what looked to be cloves of garlic. Clearly, the point was that as you dined, freshly heated garlic was available at your fancy. I'm fond of any gimmick that reveals some of the mystery of food prepartion by bringing it to your table. Just like the grinding of pepper on a salad-by-salad basis, the garlic dish personalizes the meal.
We could implement something similar, if not equivalent, at our place. Luke's already suggested home-grown parsley, snipped at a diner's table. Douglas Adams has proposed the cow discussing its tenderest parts to the patrons about dine on it. What else is there? Stoves at each table? Hmm, no, that's been done. I'll keep thinking...
posted by Sandor Weisz at 12:45 AM | Comment?
Thursday, October 25, 2001
Sandy is spending the next four weeks in San Francisco. When he gets homesick (I give him 72 hours) he should head down to Palo Alto, where he can get his Tom Skilling fix with the Bay Area's only cable system to carry WGN and he can dine at the original Pizz'a Chicago. (When I spent two years marooned in the Bay Area, I had three reasons to live in Palo Alto: WGN and slices of Great Chicago Fire, its rope bridge of cheese yawning from pan and mouth, were two of them.)
The fantastic thing about Pizz'a Chicago -- other than its pies; how is it that my favorite Chicago-style pizza is found in California and my favorite tacos have been in Chicago? -- is that it captures Chicago's flavor in a very non-plastic way. Its walls are festooned with the standard sports memorabilia, Royko columns and El signs, but one doesn't feel like it was all assembled in a Disney lab. There is serendipity and soul that together favor the lost, heartsick Cubs fan (is there any other kind?) over the slack-jawed tourist (again, any other kind?). Shtick without shmaltz. It is an achievement, this.
If we ever decide to set up shop outside Chicago, perhaps Second City homage could be our handle. Chicago comfort food, however, is a cornucopia that transcends deep dish and franks. There would be pho and pork buns, spinach pies and falafel, elote and peeled mangoes. And, of course, a beer list of Old Style, Berghoff and Schlitz, beloved Schlitz.
posted by Luke at 8:18 AM | Comment?
Saturday, October 13, 2001
I had a fine breakfast this morning at Lula -- L-U-L-A Lula -- where the day's date is printed on the menu. We should do this, too. Even if our menu never changes, this gives the impression of freshness and innovation, and it would be worth the ten minutes it would take each morning.
In fact, let's take it a step further: Let's print tomorrow's date!
posted by Luke at 4:46 PM | Comment?
Monday, October 08, 2001
Mighty Bob suggests that we will be needing one of these in our restaurant.
To which Sandy says, "Forget the restaurant: You could set one of these up on the sidewalk and make a fortune!"
To which I say, "Forget the sidewalk: You could set one up in an apartment and eat like a king at Versailles!"
posted by Luke at 3:17 PM | Comment?
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