Category: Restaurants & Stores

While in Oakland in May, we went to Rudy’s Can’t Fail Cafe just over the line in Emeryville, around the corner from the Pixar compound, and had a bit of brunch. It happened to be the day we were slated to eat an early dinner at Oliveto, so I wanted to eat less than I normally would in an establishment well known for high-quality hashbrowns and bacon. (The last time I was there, food poisoning or no food poisoning, I had waffles and fried chicken.)
So i ordered up the grits with cheese and sweet pepper hash/relish/whatever it was — whatever it was, it was sweet and tangy and spicy and utterly delicious with the clean white grits and melty cheese. It was the breakfast version of that cocktail favorite, pepper jelly & cream cheese on a cracker. If you can stand (or beat) the wait, Can’t Fail is a great place for a sunny brunch outdoors — i felt hopelessly Californian while I was there. And that’s a good thing.

On the road to Yosemite during our last trip a few years ago, we drove past a mysterious boxy building with no identifying marks except a sign reading “HOUSE OF BEEF.” Of course I found this endlessly entertaining. But we didn’t have time to stop on that trip, so this time around we were thrilled to discover that the House of Beef was still there, in a slightly less mysterious guise — it was now identifiably a retail establishment. So on the way back to SF from the park, we stopped to investigate.

You gotta love a place that just leaves a smoker sitting outside on the sidewalk, unattended, with tantalizing smoky meat wafting its enticements to lure passersby.

Turns out it’s a whole restaurant, filled with memorabilia and antique tools, where you can get massive portions of marinated tri-tip beef, along with unlimited trips to the salad bar and mediocre pie. The beef is pretty good, though it has that weird salinity that most commercially-marinated meats have (and i don’t generally care for), and the french fries were awesome.
There’s also a whole gift shop/butcher shop attached to the rear of the place, where you can buy the signature marinated tri-tip and a whole range of other meats. House of Beef will also custom butcher any sort of meat you wish to bring them — your own cattle, deer you might shoot on your trip to the Sierras, etc. I picked up a couple of ribeyes and some pickled green beans as a hostess present for MissLudmilla and MonkeyBoy, which were reportedly very tasty indeed.
Unfortunately, the House of Beef is located at a slightly confusing spot in the route to Yosemite where you need to make a turn, and we got so distracted by the ineffable mystery of the House of Beef that we missed the turn. However, while driving around (and around and around, it was a little frustrating) the region, we were endlessly amused by the town of Manteca. The idea of a whole town named LARD is just wonderful. Next trip we’ll have to stop there for some food.

Heh heh heh. Last night I flew back to Boston with two checked bags, both of them stuffed full of a variety of encased meats from Paulina Market. I dropped $236 on pork brats, veal brats, sheboygan-style brats, cute little white bockwurst with chives, fat stubby little garlic knackwurst, hungarian wieners with garlic & paprika, and smoked italians. And a pound of homemade bacon. My luggage still smells like sausage, and I *can’t wait* till tomorrow when i get to grill all that shit up for my friends. This year, we will NOT run out of the good stuff so fast.

I know that at least one of my faithful readers is waiting with bated breath for the report on our dinner at Oliveto in Oakland, so even though I’ve been doing these posts in chronological order, I’m bumping this one to the front. It was a spectacular dinner of Californian freshness, prepared Mediterranean style.

We had a party of 7, of varying degrees of foodieness but uniform willingness to share dishes willy-nilly. Yay! We started with the salumi platter for two, which was delicious, especially the mortadella with pistachios, but several of the salumi were quite similar in style, and the server rattled them off so fast that none of us knew what exactly we were eating. We didn’t care overmuch, since they all tasted great, and it was nice to be around the table with old friends.
I must restate yet again how much I adore the custom I picked up from C of ordering one starter to share, then a true starter course. Heh heh heh. Anything that maximizes intake of appetizers is a very good thing indeed, since they are invariably the best showcase of a chef’s art.

We got charcoal grilled skewers of lamb tongue and sweetbreads, which skeeved out a few of our party, but everyone tried them and liked them, so yay. I already knew I loved lamb tongue, and hedge has a thing for sweetbreads, so we were clear which parts we were snagging from the outset. 🙂
We got a salad of raw Niman Ranch beef with soft-boiled egg, anchovy and parmesan, and I am happy to report that they used the awesome white anchovies one often gets in spain, not the harsh crappy ones one often gets in america (*cough*ahwahnee*cough*). This was a lovely fresh sweet dish, satisfying that protein urge while remaining very light and sprightly.

We got fritelle of salt cod, potato and chard that was crispy and delicious over a pile of frisee. We got Boston Mackerel in saor that was a fabulous southern-italian/sephardic dish of sweetness and tartness in perfect complement to the fish. The poor mackerel is so often treated badly in our cuisine, and it is a joy to get a good fresh one in a suitable preparation.
We got a simple salad of avocado and arugula in old balsamic that was frankly one of the best things on the table — there is no arguing that California produce is some of the best in the world. This salad was $4 more than the salt cod fritters and $2 more than the beef salad, which I guess says something about the quality of ingredients, or at least the cost of sublime produce.
But my most favorite starter was a salad of thin-sliced asparagus, radicchio, celery, and walnuts, with lemon, anchovy & parmesan. Wow. All those flavors play so well together, and I would never have thought to combine them. It would be so easy to do this at home, with good spring produce, and impress the heck out of dinner guests. Yummy.

None of the mains sounded particularly compelling to us, so we decided to skip them entirely and focus on the pastas, which pretty much ALL sounded compelling to us. We settled on bucatini all’amatriciana (one of my favorite dishes ever, and it’s hard for me to resist ordering it when i see it), potato gnocchi with ragu of lamb hearts, spaghettini with fried bread “crumbs” (really cubes), basil and hot pepper, and trompetti with castelmagno cheese and spring onions.
The trompetti was light and subtle, but could have used more oomph, perhaps in the form of more spring onions — there weren’t many and they were at the peak of season. The other three, though, were awesome. The all’amatriciana sauce was a lighter style than usual, but deliciously porky, and went well with the thick chewy pasta. The ragu on the gnocchi was rich and intensely meaty, again skeeving out a few people at first but winning converts quickly. The spaghettini was so spectacular that tallasiandude ordered a second plateful, which sadly arrived without its crispy bread cubes but still yummy. At first I thought the big soft red things were cherry tomatoes that had been roasted and/or vinegared to make them extra tasty, but it turned out they were the hot peppers. The whole dish was bright and tangy from peppers and basil, softened and blended by the gentling effects of the olive oil in the sauce and bread cubes. Fantastic.

We shared a few desserts: sorbets of strawberry and lemon (i think – i’ve eaten several sorbet combos lately, and my mind is going), a tasty chocolate tart that was basically fudge in a crust with caramel ice cream, a bittersweet chocolate cake that won raves, and a peach upside down cake that is worth a trip to Oliveto in and of itself. Hedge ordered it, and at the time I was thinking, why on earth would she order THAT? it’s going to be lame and boring, as fruity cakes always are in restaurants, blah blah blah. Shows what I know. This thing was incredible. The peaches were fresh and just barely touched with caramel, and the cake itself was light, moist, and very nicely flavored, with crunchy edge bits. I have no idea what kind of cake recipe they are using, but I want it.

I believe there was some moscato d’asti ordered in there along with desserts, and there was prosecco early on, and another white that hedge ordered and of course I have already forgotten, and some Navarro pinot noir grape juice that someone ordered having seen it as a cocktail component. This is no ordinary grape juice, but a perfumey sweet nectar more that capable of standing on its own to compete with any dessert wine. I had never heard of such a thing, but I will keep my eye peeled for it henceforward (all the californian foodies in the crew knew exactly what it was).
C tells me that staff has changed at Oliveto in the last couple of years, and they have lost the C Pasta Crown to Quince, where the departed staff have gone. Which to me only means that now i have to go eat pasta at Quince, because the pasta at Oliveto remains very very good.

We found goose and duck eggs at Berkeley, which sadly I could not buy, along with some astounding golden balsamic vinegar that tastes like honey and melon (from Big Paw Grub, called “Jaymes’ Blond,” and it’s not on their online menu), which greedily I did buy, and a packet of hippy-dippy sundried tomatoes that I intend to make into a relish like the one at the seller’s stand: soak the dried tomatoes in some good vinegar, then add a bit of olive oil, and perhaps a bit of salt & pepper. Also, along the side of the road from Yosemite, amid the cherry and almond trees, we got some fabulous strawberries quivering on the peak of ripeness, about to tumble down the far side into decay. We ate them in piles for breakfast our first morning in Oakland.

After the abortive attempt to visit The Fatted Calf at the Berkeley Farmers’ Market on my trip to SF in March, thwarted by food poisoning which caused me to get to the market too late to find TFC anywhere about the place (i now know they sell out to the bare walls sometime around 1pm), I was hellbent on getting there this time around.
Ay caramba, Biggles, I see why you like this place!
I tried to let reason carry the day, but I couldn’t help myself and I snagged around $40 worth of fucking amazing meat goodness. And on reflection, considering how delicious it all has been, that’s pretty damn cheap, really.

I got rabbit crepinettes with roasted shallot & thyme, because I had no idea what a crepinette was, but they sure sounded interesting, and who doesn’t like rabbit with shallot & thyme? Turns out to be a sausage patty wrapped in a gorgeous netting of caul fat. Oh. My. God. I put these onto the grill, and they were so good. The taste is distinctly sausagey, but more delicate and sweet because of the specific ingredients. I could get very addicted to those for weekend breakfasts, yes indeed. (I must give credit to Sam for photo composition inspiration for the photo that came up when I googled “crepinette” — hers came out much better, but I liked the idea of including the pretty label along with the pretty meat.)

The rabbit pate is also delicate in the extreme, so delicate it was pretty well obliterated by the whole wheat sourdough bread I ate it with. I’ve started slicing off slivers late at night and eating them alone by the light of the fridge, which is working out much better, as it allows the quiet whisper of the sweet meat and herbs to hit the tongue clearly. I am not sure what companion I would give it in a more civilized presentation, but it would have to be something very understated indeed.
In polar opposite to this delicate creation is the robust pork rillettes, happily sitting under the veil of white fat in their stoneware crock, waiting to be scooped out onto that whole wheat sourdough that very well suits their spiciness and smooth yet meaty texture. Also good on Wasa rye crisps for breakfast with milky tea.

I got two confit duck legs, which I am hoping to use tonight in a dinner for my friends H & J. And I also got two calabrese sausages, thrown in as a lagniappe at the last minute when I picked up my goodies (as they were closing up shop) — my friend MissLudmilla happened to mention that they were her favorite order at Top Dog, and our man at Fatted Calf scoffed and tossed her the last pack of calabreses, telling her if she’d try them, she’d never go back to Top Dog again. Heh heh heh. That’s confidence in your product! Unfortunately, I took them with me back to Chicago by accident. I cooked them up in the skillet, and sliced them over pasta and sauteed greens and a bit of lemon zest. Fabulous. Lots of fennel, a bit of spicy pepper, and a rich almost gamey meatiness. Wow.
The thing that strikes me most is that all these products were so different stylistically, but all wonderfully well composed and well made. It is clear also, from seeing the market stand, and from reading Biggles’s posts, that these people very much enjoy their work. And from the frenzy of purchasing that did not cease, I would say the people of the Bay Area rather enjoy that work as well. I sure as hell did. Yum.

I just found out that the Edmar supermarket closed permanently June 5. It is to be razed and replaced by a Dominick’s. That just SUCKS. *anguished wail*
I seem not to have posted about the Edmar before, which is bizarre since when I discovered it a few months ago I raved to my friend J who also lives in the neighborhood, and vowed never again to set foot in the nasty Jewel in the neighborhood. The Edmar was a local, old school supermarket like J & I both remember from our childhoods in the 70s — and to sweeten the deal, it had both wicked cheap prices and a wide range of interesting ethnic products of the polish and hispanic persuasions, including locally made bread, nopales & tomatillos, unusual meat cuts, Mexican spices, various pickled pork products, polish jarred vegetables & jams, Kasia’s pierogies, etc. I once walked out of there with a large jar of red roasted peppers and a pound of grapes, and spent less than $2. It was a great supermarket, and right around the corner. I am SO VERY SAD.

Last night I went out boozing with some coworkers at Emmit’s and Richard’s, both at the corner of Grand & Milwaukee & Halsted. A good time was had by all, and too damn many gimlets were had by me. However, I did learn one very important thing: in addition to being a high-quality dark cop bar, Emmit’s has really delicious mini-burgers. No kidding — really good buns, decent meat, real pickle & cheese. Yummy.
And Richard’s has a swell jukebox, full of Dean Martin and Ray Charles and jazz and motown. I really needed someone to dance with. 🙁

Anyway, this morning I woke up less hungover than you might imagine, but still the situation required serious breakfast measures to be set right. So I got in the car and went to Borinquen and got myself a roast-chicken jibarito dripping with garlic oil, and a cafe con leche, and a salt-cod fritter. The salt-cod fritter was fantastic, crunchy and salty and just greasy enough, and i dipped it into a pool of the spicy herbal vinegar out on the table. Have a closer look at how yummy it was:

At 10:30 I was the only person in the dining room, but it filled up as I dawdled over a magazine and the last bits of plantain and yellow rice sopping in the vinegar. After an hour or so of quality time with my Puerto Rican breakfast, my sense of well-being had returned and all was right with the world. The whole works set me back less than 10 dollars. And 8 hours later, I still haven’t needed to eat again yet. Heh!

C was able to escape his corporate-bonding obligations last night, and so we made plans to buy wine and take it over to Lula Cafe for dinner. By the time I met him in the car at Randolph Wine Cellars I felt like a kid going to meet her favorite cousin for a playdate — i think it was that the day was so cold and rainy, and work has been rather tedious the last couple of days, and the prospect of totally nerding out over a good meal was just too good. 🙂
So, anyway, props to Dr. Vino and his wine-store map for making it easy to find a good bottle shop in the right location for C to get there by bus and me to meet him in the car. Randolph Wine Cellars is a nice small shop, a little bit high-end-wine in feeling but it does have some good cheap bottles, a helpful friendly staff who hooked us up with wine advice and a list of the best 5 BYO restaurants in town, and a handy bargain shelf from which I bought a 50 dollar bottle of riesling for 20 bucks. C will have to remind me what the hell it was we actually drank with dinner, since we failed to write it down and I can’t even begin to remember other than it was red and french. Whatever it was, it was light and bright in color, and strongly tannic at first, and C was a little disappointed, but as it spent time in the air it improved sharply and by the end of the meal we both liked it rather well. It was best with the duck, but more on that in a minute.
We started with prosecco (very good, quite dry) and a rhubarb gimlet (with no identifiable rhubarb whatsoever save the pale pink tint, very disappointing). Then we got a spinach salad with shaved strong cheddar, a poached duck egg and some sort of tart ranch-style dressing that I liked but C didn’t care for much. The duck egg was poached while twisted into plastic wrap, giving it a pleasingly gathered, asymmetrical shape — very clever. The star appetizer, though, was the duck consomme, which came with a long slab of crunchy grilled marrow toast, morels, lamb sweetbreads, shards of parmesan and a tangle of microgreens. YUM. Perfect hot savory goodness, the perfect thing for a March day in May.
Then we had a wild nettle risotto with white asparagus, golden beets, blood orange, black walnut, and creme fraiche, which was very nice but none of the flavors really went together until you got a bite with the black walnut, which tied all the sweet-earthy-bland-creamy flavors together into a whole that worked. The problem was only that there were about 4 tiny specks of black walnut on the whole dish. (This is my one objection to Lula in general, the microscopic quantities of certain of the ingredients that get much stronger billing on the menu. There was a similar situation in the spinach salad, where there were 5 tiny shavings of cheddar on a nice mound of salad — you had to consciously ration in order to have any cheese left after the first two bites.)

sorry all the photos are so dark and lame
We also had a spectacular spaghetti in a red sauce spicy with bacon and a bit of chili, and sprinkled with queso fresco. This is one of the things Lula does *really* well, mixing a Mexican ingredient found in every local grocery into a fancy preparation or a dish from some other cuisine. The spaghetti itself was exceptional, well flavored and wheaty, chewy and substantial. We both loved it.

And last we split the roasted muscovy duck breast with a corn crepe filled with morels and some kind of slow roasted meat we suspect of being duck also, along with a salad of crisp green beans and more microgreens and a lemon mustard. The duck was delicious, almost smoky, but not quite as tender as the one I tasted at Tre Kronor with my father. I realize that with a statement like that I am picking the smallest of nits, but the blog *is* called foodNERD, and I *am* just that pedantic sometimes. 🙂
Random side note (start rant): I love green beans above all other vegetables. Always have. There is nothing that green beans can’t go along with, and they are reliably delicious, and I just love them. C begged to disagree, and tried to remind me of the glories of asparagus and spring peas, and I will frankly admit that those two vegetables are indeed sublime, when you get them fresh from the dirt. But there are two problems: 1 – unless you own the dirt, it is nearly impossible to acquire them fresh enough to still be delicious, and 2 – though mindbendingly yummy, they are not as versatile in flavor as the green bean. And, I feel compelled to add, even when you have a crappy old starchy nasty green bean from a bad supermarket, you can slow-cook it with garlic and olive oil and tomato and turn it into something good despite itself. That doesn’t work with peas and asparagus. Maybe peas. Definitely not asparagus. (End rant.)

So, back to dessert. Banana cream pie and a brace of sorbets, strawberry and passionfruit. The pie is apparently famous, getting feature articles written about it in local rags, but we’re not seeing it — the custard has too much cornstarch in it and the crust was just meh. Still, it didn’t suck and we left no bit of banana or cream unconsumed. The sorbets were lovely, particularly the passionfruit one, and the combination of the two worked beautifully. And the garnish of freezedried strawberry actually tasted good, too. Who knew?
It was a delicious meal, made of fresh local sustainable ingredients at a reasonable price, and eaten in very good company, if in horrendous weather. (The wind in Chicago is just obnoxious. There is no reason for such dreadful wind — the cold and the rain is bad enough, must we be blown off our feet every other week, winter and summer? Feh!) Plus, bonus, C had a couple other bottles to take home with him for later. Work may bring him here with less frequency over the next months, which is good news for him getting to spend less time away from home and family, but is bad news for this blog, since you will be reading fewer stories of our ridiculous gustatory shenanigans. Perhaps he can report his Oregonian shenanigans and I can relay them…

Tallasiandude & I stopped in at the Bleeding Heart Bakery while he was here, because it caught his eye while we were at the Edmar. It’s a shade expensive, but everything is organic and sustainable, and the things we tried were delicious. We got two tea cakes, one meyer lemon and one chocolate-porter-hazelnut-dried cherry (we ate the chocolate one over vanilla and choco-peanut butter ice cream from Oberweis Dairy, mmmm), and a couple of day-old, half-price sticky buns, one with pecans and one without. I have high standards for sticky buns, and find most of them either doughy and bland or overly sweet, but these were very nice and balanced, with good caramel cinnamon flavor to them and a nice texture to the bread. Worth a visit if you’re in the area, and they have a few tables and wireless should you be inclined to linger a bit over your treat.