Gil "whoo hoo" S.'s Profile

Fresh juice in the Tenderloin?  Yay!

The most striking thing about this little juice + frozen yogurt + pannini + wraps + salads + coffee + tea + omelet store off the lobby of the near-hostel grade Adante Hotel is how clean it is.   Behind the counter is a large assortment of shiny new industrial grade kitchen gadgets, it looks like someone hit the jackpot on one of those diner games on Facebook.  It can take a while to read the five or so different menu boards so you're best off just choosing one, and saving the rest for another visit.  My eyes fell on the fresh juice board - oranges and carrots of course, but also spinach, parsley, ginger, garlic, celery, grapefruit, apples, pomegranates, and tomatoes.  I asked, and everything is squeezed in house.  That makes a huge difference with some juices.  It's all a little expensive, $4 for a small and $5 for a so-called large, which is more like a medium.  But for quality, fresh juice like this is so much better than Jamba Juice.  Word is, this is one of the first California franchises of a small international chain based in Canada.... they have juice in Canada?

I'm probably the only guy in the world who actually enjoys parsley and celery juice so I had a mixture they call the "detox".  It didn't work, I'm still toxic, but the juice was good.  It's really a good thing to have in the hoo.

One of the most Japanese places in all of Japantown, Sanko is a go-to place for fancy ($5 to $150) made-in-Japan bowls, tea cups, sake bottles, chopsticks, bento boxes, vases, and the like.  It's more of a housewares and gift store than restaurant supply or even kitchen store.  You could Japanize your kitchen and dining room in style here for about $500.

There's a nice old school feel to it.  The presentation is beautiful, the merchandise is all good, it's a little cramped and eclectic, and there is some wonderful hospitality.  When I visited they poured tea for me while I shopped, refilled it when I set it down, carried my items up to the register, packed everything carefully in just the right bag when they noticed my motorcycle helmet, gave me several free gifts because I had made a substantial purchase, offered to giftwrap, and exchanged bows and excited formalities like a tipsy sushi chef on my way out the door.  All of this is really special, it made me feel good all day, and I will have a nice memory of the purchase every time I put a bud in the vase, or spoon some pasta from my bento box on my desk at work.  It's an ideal way to shop, in my opinion.

Prices are high-ish but the worth it given the quality.  Also, they have frequent store-wide sales and discounts, so what's marked at $20 is often available for $12 or $14.

Best of all, they keep the lucky cats to a minimum, and none of them are made of plastic or do that creepy waving arm thing.

Bloomingdales isn't the first place I would think of for pots, pans, serving plates, and kitchen gadgets, but it has an extensive, up to date, thoughtfully presented array of everything you need.  You can outfit an entire gourmet kitchen and dining room from this deceptively large section of Bloomingdale's basement, with everything from the basic staples like silicon baking mats to electric chicken roasters, professional grade knives, and $150 martini glasses from the crystal department next door.  

Prices are reasonable and there are frequent sales - last night the popular Rosenthal plates were priced lower than anything online, and they had most of the Le Creusette collection on several large tables organized by color at 30% off - as low as anywhere in town.  If you're a thrifty shopper you come out as well here as any department or specialty store in town, so why not enjoy the best?  For cleanliness, organization, helpful but not overbearing salespeople, completeness, even lighting and signage, I think they've taken the lead as the flagship all purpose kitchen store in town.  It's a pleasure to browse here and examine things, even without buying anything.

Best for last here.  Nearly every day there is a cooking demonstration by a professional local chef or caterer, often famous, in a fully stocked demonstration kitchen for a small crowd, usually 10-15 people in the audience.  These are sometimes free, and other times they ask you to buy a gift certificate, which you can spend in the store - so it still comes out free.  It's a good way to do something different with a friend or date, meet food lovers, save money and stay out of trouble.  You get  five times the learning per hour as a food TV show, plus you taste the food and can ask questions.  This is all run by Holly, a long-time Yelper who posts the events to the Yelp calendar.

Sadly, the old man died shortly after I wrote my last review.  The shop was closed for a while, then reopened.  A friend of his took it over and is trying to keep up the spirit of the store, stocking it with antiques and handcrafts from respected factories in Japan.

It's probably for the better, for the casual visitor.  All the "do not touch" signs are gone and you can even handle the merchandise now.  I was reluctant, as if the old man's spirit were going to scold me.  The place seems a little cleaner, more organized, less cluttered.  A heaviness that hung over the place is now gone.

But I do miss him, only though I met him once.  It's not quite the unique place it was.  The bowls and cups, trays, vases and small furniture are still first-rate, collectible things, handmade, one-of-a-kind.  But they come without the long explanations and anecdotes of one who knew them so well.  I finally bought the 100-year-old maneki neko I've had my eye on for two years so if the big ceramic cat by the entrance is gone you know where it went.  But now nobody knows exactly where it came from or who owns it.  Neko-san's secrets are somewhere else now.

The little stand by the entrance to the Ferry Building can be a little offputting.  There's not much to see, just pack after pack of salmon.  The proprietor is insistent that you try each of his 20-30 different kinds of salmon, and then you feel obliged to buy, and you realize it's all about $40 a pound.

But wow, that's some good salmon.  It's great by itself but even better as an ingredient in a salad or sandwich.  Put it on an acme bread roll from the bakery a few yards away, find some free sample jam from a shop or get a little chevre from Cowgirl Creamery, an organic lettuce leaf or bean sprouts from the bean sprout guy, be creative and stack on some fresh potato chips from Lulu Petite, and you've got yourself a world class $10 sandwich you can eat right there on the pier looking out at the water.

Before Cap'n Mike I'd given up on salmon candy, you know, fish brined in sugar / honey / maple before smoking.  I've tried it at Whole Foods and some fish stores and it's as weird as it sounds.  But here it was just perfect, a really rich, full, well balanced taste, moist and chewy and proteiny at the same time and not at all sticky.

So if you're rich or you want a special occasion snack, find the littlest pack you can, get a plastic knife from somewhere, and go on your own food foraging walkabout of the farmer's market.

* I see from their website that they will also make you a sandwich, and use Acme bread... so you can let them do the work for you too!

They carded me at the door on a weekday evening.  Inside dark, over-the-top redneck bumpkin decor, lots of white people who weren't born in the era the bar depicts but if you grew up in a little town where everyone listened to 38 Special and watched Starsky and Hutch your parents were probably drinking this kind of beer around the time you were conceived.  It reminded me of a tiki lounge except instead of Polynesia and fruity rum drinks it was all redneck middle America and cheap beer.  It all seems a little contrived because it isn't a dive bar and there never was a bar like this in the era, it pays homage to the 1970s like a pinball game, with lots of lights and noise and things that go bing, not by really recreating what life was like then.  But there's plenty to look at, period photos of naked girls laminated into the bartop.  

A thick crowd of 21-25 year olds seemed to be enjoying themselves.  Everything was clean and orderly, staff was as cordial and efficient as could be given the crush.

It all made me feel very old, and there wasn't any reason to be here except to say I'd been.  It's a tiny place, not conducive to strike up a conversation with anyone you didn't come with.  The alcohol is a backlash against fancy liquor and artisan cocktails.  It's kind of cool to drink your father's weak canned beer once in a while, Olympia is a great refresher on a hot day.

Always one of my favorites, not trendy, the style was trendy 15 years  and they haven't changed since opening 8 years ago.  The menu is an ecclectic mix of French, Spanish (i.e. Basque), Californian, and just, well, food.  Dungeness crab tower in a house-made red pepper aioli surrounded by little pieces of vegetables, for example, good, tart, and tasty, but crab was all shredded (meaning, either the leftovers from the shellfish stew or they bought it commercially) yet had several large-ish pieces of shell (meaning, someone shelled a fresh crab).  

The first 3/4 of dinner I was a little disappointed.  Flavors were mild, not much spice, when they put out for you it's in extremely subtle ways, like your very normal looking chicken has surprisingly crispy skin and perfectly square 1mm almond slices.  It was dry, but cooked with a precision that smacks you down with a vengeance, no way in a million years can you cook chicken like that in your home oven.  It was like a beach bully beating you up on an off day without really trying or caring, and you, strangely, enjoying and admiring him for his skill.

No warm-and-fuzzies.  Service was a little curt, stiff, and confused in a French way - they were out of quite a few items on the menu by 9:30 on a Friday night, and didn't bother to figure that out until the table-side apology.  There was no talk of artisan farms or what the waiter's housing situation was like, it was all very formal.  You sensed the waiter could toss a table setting perfectly aligned in three seconds in his sleep...with his feet... but did not feel the urge, so it was all a little askew.

The crowd was 40-60 but a few younger ones, one of the rare age-integrated fine dining restaurants in town.  Decor is a double-sized version of Globe, comfy, dark, red brick walls with substantial seismic bracing, bustling, noisy but not too noisy,   On the front table they feature a few books written by their chef, Hirigoyen.  Sounds Japanese but he's Basque and he's left a trail of wonderful restaurants in his wake: Pastis, Fringle (back when it was the shiz), Piperade, and now Bocadillos.

Somewhere between the bussers trying to take the plates for the third time and my sopping everything up in their excellent homemade bread, I slid unknowingly into a food bliss.  The sauce on that chicken was good, beyond good, it was damn good.  It's hard to pinpoint it, but something happened here that's happened every time, a deep sense of calm, connection, and contentment.  It all fits together here like a puzzle, a glove in a hand.  There is a deep rightness here.  This is what food is all about, why we desperate creatures are born to eat.  They answered that desperate question of human yearning with something you really enjoy eating.  "If you come back tomorrow we will have it", the waiter said, after explaining that the only two desserts we wanted were sold out.  And right now, I'm pretty tempted.  The dessert menu is intriguing, saliva-inducing, and inscrutable unless you know French cuisine or Wikipedia it all on your iPhone.

I've been pretty blunt about Piperade but really, it is one of the better restaurants, I would take a visiting relative here, or choose it for a romantic date, or just come to enjoy.  There is a lot going on here, there is nothing superficial, easy, or glib about it.  It's like an indy film, it makes you think about the subject.  But it's an American film.  You know, happy ending, you leave feeling whole and uplifted.  Highly recommended.

If you're into modernism, simplicity, and easy grace, this unhurried tasting room sits on a hill in one of the most quietly beautiful corners of Napa Valley, with vine covered rolling hills, curvy roads and reservoirs to each horizon.  On a warm day the walls open up to the deck and it's more of an oversized gazebo than a room.

Tasting is $15, and is the wine country equivalent of a hostess bar.  A pretty young woman, enthusiastic and well versed, brings out bottle after bottle (usually far more than the menu promises), pours for you, and sits at your table explaining viticulture, company history, local gossip, or anything else you would care to discuss.   But there's no pressure, and there's no sexy unless you count the wine, which is for the most part top quality small batches, sourced from the company's many vineyards throughout the area.  Owned by a European billionaire, the place is very environmentally conscious and ungreedy, and they have only the faintest smattering of merchandise, a few baseball caps and sweaters tucked discreetly in a side cupboard.   If it's not busy you could linger here for a long time with a book or a newspaper, slowly sipping the wines.

Definitely recommended for your short list on a day trip to Napa, to see a certain genre of classy, calm, professional and large but not touristy, high end casual elegance.

Five point one stars.... this is what Napa and wine is all about.

First of all, the wine is good.  Carneros is the place for Pinot Noir, and the pinot here is as tasty as it gets.  $40 is a lot but at this quality level it's a good buy.

Second, in case you haven't heard, the backstory here is as cool as it gets.  In the 1960s a family from a small Mexican village immigrates to work the Napa fields.  In the 1980s the children save up enough money to buy a few acres, and start their own winery.  In the 2000s the grandchildren get into multicultural food shows, catering, Web 2.0, and join Yelp... http://www.yelp.com/us...  Seriously, I've met a few from the family and they're all warm, entertaining, dynamic, and hospitable.

As a tasting experience, again, this is the real deal.  Call ahead and set up an appointment, from the end of the driveway even, and they'll welcome you.  It's a medium size villa, nicely landscaped, in a sea of gravel parking, with a bocce court and terrace outside.  You feel like you're in a lavish guest house.  If Ariel is pouring he narrates in a mile a minute soft spoken wine geek patois, if you catch even 10% of what he's saying you get a huge education in wine.

It's in the flats, midway through a forgotten loop of bumpy road well off the highway, even lost people can't find it, you need a good map and a GPS.  But the folks the area sing their praises, they buy wine grapes from here, Amelia (the President, Ariel's mom) is locally famous for her cooking.  

Tasting fee of $15 is worth it but there are 2-for-one coupons, and they're likely flexible.

(grumble, grumble... I was almost the first to review this one but I procrastinated...)

Came just before closing, had a very tasty taro boba tea.  Decor is clean, spacious, and modern, very pleasant.  The tea tasted very good but was quite thick with condensed (?) milk, made me wonder if it's more of a Vietnamese touch or not.  Boba balls were supple, fresh, had a mild pleasant taste, and not very chewy, not sure how they're supposed to be but that's how they were.  

They have pho and some other Vietnamese and Chinese things here, pho for lunch in the fidi is definitely a good idea.  

I saw some comments about unfriendly service.  The two people I met were as kind as could be.  Not very fast but very personable.  I was in a good mood to begin with.  Whatever energy you put out comes back to you, I think.