ang h.'s Profile

I have an addiction.  

I was with a few friends yesterday at Alexander's and the one thing that we spent close to an hour talking about, as everyone was digging into their bone-in NY and filet was MORE FOOD.  It wasn't intended to be that way but I guess when I spend all my spare time following food blogs and tweets from random food carts, it just goes without saying that my conversation would default to various epicurean delights.  

Some time during dinner I made a casual mention how I've always wanted to try Five Guys but never got around to it, then my friend's eyes lit up as she was chowing down her 6 oz filet.  She is of a petite build, could eat her own weight and not gain a pound, loves food as much as I do, has been living in Dublin for the past year and presumably has been deprived of good food (having visited Dublin a few times, I could totally relate).

So... we agreed to go to Five Guys the next day for lunch, as if having food coma from Alexander's less than 12 hours prior wasn't enough.  

WARNING: comparison against In N Out will be made throughout.

And we did make it to Five Guys the next day - in time before the lunch crowd came in.  

Total wait time was 10 mins, this includes waiting in line to order AND to get the food.  Verdict: better than In N Out!

Then we started digging into the burger: two beef patties, three (yep! three!) slices of cheese, grilled onion, grilled mushrooms, lettuce, tomato, pickles, jalapeno, mayo, ketchup and mustard.  Verdict: just as good as In N Out, but I'm not sure if my arteries would have appreciated it!

And the fries, oh the fries. We shared a large serving of cajun-seasoned fries and a small serving of normal fries. The hub, who's used to either In N Out fries or the mashed-and-fed-through-an-extrusion-tube-in-a-fact ory variety, did not quite enjoy it so much, but I did: it reminded me of the chips from the Greenwich beer-battered fish and chips shop that I went to years and years ago - thick cut, kind of limp and served with salt and vinegar.

I'm all beefed out for the next two weeks.  I shall take heed of the Chick-fil-A's cow with regard to eat(ing) mor chickin'.

We had to wait 40 minute for a pizza?????????

That was my initial thought after we placed the order for a medium-sized deep dish stuffed pizza with cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms and sausage (hold the vegies... kthx).

While I am no fan of deep dish pizza (let alone deep dish *stuffed* pizza), since I was already in Chicago for the weekend I had to do what I do best: sample the local favorites. So, a trip to Giordano's is a must.

What came out at the end of 40 minutes (and it really was 40 minutes - why do these guys have to be so precise?) was well worth the wait - when the server brought the pizza to the table I realized why it took that long to make it... it actually is a freakin' pie! I love the pie crust and the stringy mozzarella, and considering how unexcited I get over Americanized Italian food in general *and deep dish pizza in particular* I actually quite enjoyed it (after pouring half of the chilli pepper flakes on my slice).  

The two guys that came with me went for second... and third.  I had to stop at the first one and in hindsight, was grateful we didn't get suckered into getting an appetizer because that would've been a complete waste.

One sign that I've been living in the Valley for far too long: I forgot that in a city as vibrant as Chicago, people are still out and about even though it was already close to midnight on a Sunday.  

We were on our way to our 9:30PM Sunday dinner reservation at Gibson's and I was fully expecting a restaurant that was either already empty or 'in the process' of emptying out.  To my surprise Gibsons was anything but - the bar area probably was twice as crowded as 99% of restaurants in the Valley at 7PM on a Friday (sad, but it won't be long before we bust out of here), the dining room was a cacophony of clinking glasses / silverwares and hubbub from diners happily tucking into their steaks, and as far as I could see, other places in the immediate locale that were just as crowded.  

The downside: we had to wait about 15 minutes for our table to be ready, despite showing up on time for our reservation.  The upside: (1) I had some time to scout the surroundings: walls were covered with a bunch of black-and-white pictures of visiting celebrities (A-list and otherwise) and the restaurant felt like it was something out of the 1920s mob scene; (2) hostess was apologetic; and (3) our table was fantastic - it was on the side of the restaurant, in the covered patio area, perfect for peoplewatching.  

Our server, one of the guys dressed in butcher-style shirts, was quick to attend to our table and to show the meat sample.  He pointed out the different cuts: London broil (12oz), small bone-in sirloin (14oz), small NY sirloin (12oz), filet mignon (8oz) and *gulp* W.R Chicago cut (22oz).  

We skipped the appetizers and went straight to entree - W.R. Chicago for me and the hub, London Broil and sirloin for our friends.  We also had sides of fries, delicious creamed spinach and sauteed mushrooms, plus a bottle of Cab Sauv to wash it down.

The steak was tasty, it wasn't Alexander's Kobe but neither was the price (nor was I expecting it to be).  This awesome meal, that could have cost north of $80 in the Bay, ended up being $50 including tax and tip.

I heard about this restaurant from none other than my Burke Williams beautician.  And since I was so impressed by her skill in extracting all the gunk from my oversized pores, without much urging I took her word for it and visited this place.  

The key word is organic.  I am one of the biggest skeptics and the whole notion of organic food has always been near the top (if not THE top) of the list of things that I am most skeptical about.  But Sirayvah's proprietor must've been proud enough to want to have it be the name of the restaurant.

Lunch plates that start at $11 apiece is definitely pushing it as 'lunch specials', especially in the peninsula where the going rate is $6-$8.  So if you add tax, tip, drink and apps, the whole thing would set you back $20 - $22 each time you visit.

However, after only one bite into the summer roll I realized why they charge what they charge - all of the ingredients were of the highest quality: the shredded vegetables were so fresh and crisp, the tamarind sauce was definitely authentic and the chili sauce... don't get me started on the chili sauce.

The "lunch special" - green chicken curry served with brown rice was NOT your ordinary green chicken curry.  Instead of scrimping on the chicken and making it up by throwing in pieces of limp zucchini and eggplant, there were tons of chunky, tender and sweet-tasting chicken pieces.  The green curry sauce was also made the way all green curry sauces are supposed to be made: not too thick, not too runny, just the right consistency and with serious kick from the chili powder (not for the fainthearted).

And it was big enough for both lunch AND dinner.  So when you take that into account, the $19 really isn't half bad!

I think the 72 yelpers before me have reached a consensus, which I wholeheartedly concur with them on.  So I don't think i need to go into the details of what goes in the four-course tasting menu and the amuse bouche.  Check my pictures instead.

Let's just say the whole experience at this Chicago institution was a memorable one.  The dinner was extremely well done - from the friendly service, the ambiance, the presentation, the flavor and the wine pairing.

And if there are two things that you must order from the expansive tasting menu, it is the soft pillowy Grand Marnier soufflé (http://www.yelp.com/bi...) and the chocolate raspberry tart with coffee gelato (http://www.yelp.com/bi...).

These two were also the favorite of our darling server Jose - only in extremely rare occasions do I pay attention to servers, and more often than not it's when they mess something up.  Fortunately, that was not the reason why I remembered him.  Other than the spot-on dessert recommendation, he also turned a blind eye to my being Asian and photographing all the food, despite the no-camera, no-phone policy.  What's more, he volunteered to take a picture of us once the dining room emptied out (a ha! another advantage of opting for a 9PM reservation).  

As we were leaving, the servers who were wrapping up looked up, invariable broke into a huge grin and thanked us for dining there.  As we were leaving, the proprietor Ms Mary-Beth Liccioni also did the same - the hospitality was so genuine I was taken aback.  I even was half expecting toque and apron-wearing chef Chris Nugent rushing out of the kitchen doing same, but unfortunately he didn't.

Not at all the snootiness that was typically expected of an establishment such as this.

At first glance it kinda looked like  a tourist trap.  Think tacky interior and morbidly obese ill-dressed summer tourists wearing ugly t-shirts, culottes, socks AND slippers with cameras on hand and carrying messenger bags.

I was prepared to pay $4 for a bottle of water and $5 for a small hot dog, just to complete the picture of this place as a tourist trap.  

But no - the menu came to $8.41 for two delicious hot dogs (one of which is chili) and cheese fries (crinkle cut, just like the ones that grandma used to buy me and my brother as a reward for being so good in attending a 2-hr swimming lesson!).  Unbelievable.  

This place just got a major upgrade, in my books.

I was very much looking forward to our stay at this hotel, after hearing all the good things about it.  Unfortunately, it was a very underwhelming experience, to say the least.  

But let me begin with the things that I do like about the hotel.  First off, it is located my favorite part of Chicago - the leafy, affluent part of town that is Chicago's equivalent of Manhattan's Upper East Side, complete with sidewalks, quiet tree-lined streets, real old-school townhouses (instead of ugly towering monstrosities that are 21st century condominiums), cute boutiques (instead of Gap, Banana Republic and other mainstream mass-produced brands) and, of course, Hermes of Paris (which warrants a separate mention).  

I also like the small intimate lobby area with old leather couches, cherry colored wooden furnitures, area rugs and distinct artwork.  The very reason why I always tend to gravitate toward smaller boutique hotels instead of impersonal chains.  

I definitely love the room.  While the space issue is not as bad in Chicago as it is in Manhattan, getting a 400-sqft guestroom for our weekend getaway is not an easy task.  So we were delighted to see that our room comes with generous, ample bathroom, double sink, massive king bed AND still enough space to walk around, do a chicken dance, and strut my Herve and Louboutins in.  My only reservation was the lack of natural light - the windows were definitely inadequate to allow sunlight to find its way into our 11th-floor room, but then again Delaware St is not exactly the widest street in town and there are buildings in front of us, so can't have it all!

Yet one thing that really disappointed us was the service, or lack thereof.  I mean, seriously.  They don't call it the 'hospitality' industry for no reason.  I did pay a premium to stay in smaller boutique hotels such as this so I do get a service that is a little bit more personalized than the kind that I would be getting from say, a 3000-room Vegas hotel.  

First, I called in to reconfirm my reservation.  The lady on the phone was anything but courteous and competent.  First off, she was not able to find my reservation and I was transferred to the front desk staff, to whom I had to explain myself all over again (my pet peeve when it comes to on-the-phone customer service).

The person who manned the reception desk was not friendly, nor was he at all competent either.  Case in point - he had to send the slip of paper on which I agree to the nightly rate and duration of stay up to the room after we checked in, which clearly indicated that he must have forgotten when we were actually down there.  

But the real kicker was when we ordered room service after arriving - it was about 1AM.  As a general rule, I am never, ever, a big fan of room service, having had my fair share of bad food that they slap 18% gratuity, 10.5% tax (and still expect a tip) on during my days globetrotting on the company's expense account.  Think overcooked steaks, lukewarm soup, bread hard enough to knock someone out, and ice-creams that are already half melted by the time it reaches your suite.  So I really wasn't expecting hotels as small as Talbott to have a 24-hour room service, but lo and behold, they do.

I placed an order of chicken BLT, which (to my initial delight) came in within 20 minutes.  Then after the customary of the invoice and the involuntary yet customary tip of $2 on top of the 18% service fee (refer above) I opened the cover only to find something that looked like it was picked up from the garbage bin, microwaved and served on a plate with a bag of Lay's chips (lightly salted flavor).  The bread looked like someone stomped on it, the L and T looked like it was 2 days old, the B was unrecognizable, and the chicken was burnt and cold.  It was pathetic room service at its finest.  

We did get the item taken off our bill (rightfully so too) but the front desk person was, instead of apologetic, defiant.  The whole thing was just very upsetting and for a hotel as high-end as this to be able to leave such a bad impression within the first hour of arriving, it's quite an accomplishment in and of itself.

We won't be coming back, unfortunately.

To celebrate the stay on Ike's SF shop's eviction (8/24/10) I had a menage-a-trois at noon.  

The sandwich, that is.  Don't get any ideas.

It was a big fat sandwich - toasted dutch crunch roll, honey (GENIUS IDEA), delicious pulled chicken and the whole she-bang - and quite possibly one of THE most delicious things I've ever had for less than $10.  

And I love the no walk-ins policy.  I'm a control freak - I hate waiting and being at the mercy of others, including when I'm ordering my sandwich (imagine standing behind someone with a huge order for 10 people.... you'll be standing there til the cows come home!), so I love the fact that I can call in at my leisure, tell them exactly what time I'm looking to pick it up, and then take advantage of the few 20-min parking spots right in front of the entrance to the office building.

That's right - office building.  

I'm not sure if there's an option to convert an office suite into a makeshift sandwich shop, complete with kitchen and sandwich counter, but they sure did pull it off.  They probably have built it into their lease contract or something.  Who knows.

Pigging out on Ike's sandwich at the nearby park overlooking a tiny body of water is definitely one of the (very few) nice little things to perk up an otherwise intense work day!

That afternoon, after a nice long girly brunch at nearby Foreign Cinema I was feeling pretty adventurous and was looking forward to trying something else other than the default Secret Breakfast, Blue Bottle Vietnamese Coffee or Brown Butter at Humphry Slocombe.  

Their listing of flavors - http://www.humphrysloc... - have certainly piqued my interest.  In particular, I was excited to try strawberry candied jalapeno, or McEvoy olive oil (no foie gras for me; the only dessert made of foie gras that I've ever had - one from Momofuku Ko - has set the bar way too high for any other foie gras-themed dessert to even come close).  

Sadly, neither flavors were available then.  

I was toying with the idea of trying the black sesame, but unfortunately it looked nothing like Passionflower's (http://www.passionflow...)  black sesame ice-cream that I grew up on, and I have the biggest color prejudice when it comes to food and would not touch any food whose color is not agreeable (from my perspective).  

So I had to settle with the old favorite, Blue Bottle Vietnamese Coffee... with just the right amount of sweetness which doesn't overpower the coffee flavor, I'm starting to convince myself that I prefer this over everyone's favorite Secret Breakfast.  

But one thing that I just wanna put out there, WHY WOULD THEY HAVE A WALL ART FEATURING CAMPBELL'S "FETAL KITTEN" SOUP CAN?

Discuss.

The five of us were lucky enough to be ushered to a table right in the middle of the outdoor patio as soon as we checked in - no doubt one of the best seats in the house.  Within minutes, conversation and wino a-flowin' and sunshine aplenty - Sunday definitely got off to a good start!

As a starter, we ordered - what else - the pop tart (apple, as suggested by our server who muttered under his breath that the plum pop tart was kinda weird... we had to take his word for it!).  Then we had a couple of fellinis and bellinis (fellinis, with grapefruit juice, is a more playful but yet just as evil version of bellinis) and black coffee for the friend who needed a quick hangover fix while we perused the menu.  

Everything that we ordered were pretty spot on - with the frittata being (almost) everyone's No. 1 favorite.  My personal favorite, though, was the two poached eggs with warm runny yolks and persian ground chicken, cooked with cumin and a myriad of other (tasty) spices, served on a bed of angel hair potatoes.  

Wait, what?

I've heard of angel hair pasta.... but angel hair potatoes? No - it wasn't a typo.  They are just really finely sliced potatoes, deep fried to the point of being super crispy.  A truly one-of-a-kind find.