As light a Pinot as you’ll find.

toasted farro and slow egg porcini, parmesan cream, preserved meyer lemon pistou, grilled bread ($11)

pork shoulder stroganoff house-made egg noodles, trumpet mushrooms, savoy cabbage, fried shallot ($21)

fried chicken ham hock grits, braised collard greens, smoked jalapeno buttermilk ($22)

As we crossed Cesar Chavez Street into the deep, dark, scary depths of the Mission, I turned to Adrienne and said, “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the seatbelt of our shared Yellow Cab and began to wonder if our little foodie adventure was such a good idea after all…

The Blue Plate is way out there (at Mission & Valencia, it is well out of eyeshot of the Marina) but it is absolutely worth the adventure. It’s a “classy hole-in-the-wall:” just as I like them.  The environment is casual and welcoming, but the dishes are akin to what you might normally find atop a tablecloth. Girls’ night, date night, dinner with your parents: you name it, this place fits the bill.  There is even a charming back patio that would be lovely on a rare, warm San Francisco night.

First thing’s first: wine. As lovers of Pinot Noirs, this choice was easy.  The Hadenfig was so light and fruity that we asked where we could buy it retail (answer: not sure, but the bottle sells on their website for nearly half the restaurant’s price). If you like heavy, complex wines – you better look lower on the wine list.

We shared the Toasted Farro and Slow Egg appetizer. Common fact: like bacon, everything tastes better with an over-easy egg. Farro is a pasta-like grain with a little bit of crunch. There’s a lot going on in this dish and it all works: toasted crostini, a thick white parmesan cream, and savory mushrooms. The result is a rich masterpiece (that spoils one’s forthcoming dinner). It’s one of those dishes you want to pick up and lick when nobody is looking.

Having heard the buzz about their fried chicken, I chose this for my main. Still full from the appetizer, I could only manage a couple of bites but those few mouthfuls were wonderful. Pieces of juicy chicken inside a thicker fried skin. It’s 70% fried skin and 30% chicken; perfect in my book but perhaps overwhelming to others. It brings me great joy to say I took the chicken home and enjoyed it for two more meals. That’s approximately $7/meal – I’ll take it!

I only had a bite of Adrienne’s Pork Shoulder Stroganoff, but it was equally rich and satisfying as the dishes before it.

A special shout out to the complimentary Focaccia bread. Panic rose over me as the waiter dropped it by our table sans butter. I couldn’t quite grab her attention as she walked away so had a bite anyway. I should have a little more faith. They clearly knew exactly what they were doing: the bread was so warm and flaky that butter would have been overkill (even for me). It was a lovely vehicle to slop up many of the juices in the later meals.

With its outdoor patio and quaint counter seating, this place looks like it could rock a brunch. Alas, I don’t see it on their website. I’ll be the first to trek back when they do.

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Loaf of bread with melted cheese drizzled over the top. And a side of butter just in case…

Side of brussels sprouts drenched in butter and bacon bits.

Filet mignon

Chocolate Bomb – with raspberry coulis & chocolate fondante (whatever those words means…)

In my mind’s eye, I pictured Bobo’s to be a raucous, spit-on-the-floor kind of joint – that somehow got away with pushing $50 steaks.  When I walked in, I got a quiet, eccentric, table-clothed place – that gets away with churning $50 steaks.  To me, Bobo’s has become a rite of passage for all San Franciscans in their twenties and thirties – and yet, I had never been until last week.  I have to admit, few places are like Bobo’s.

In short, I appreciated the character and ambiance of the restaurant more than the food.  Bobo’s (short for Boboquivari’s – which translates to “Court Jester”) has dark red walls adorned with bizarre paintings.  The low lighting and small, television-less bar made for a very quiet (and football-less) Monday night.  I could hear my friend at just above a whisper.

When it comes to beef, burgers are my thing.  An expensive piece of steak: not so much.  But with its reputation for some of the best steaks in the city – and lack of burger on the menu – Jac and I decided to split the filet mignon and the crab crositini.  The filet was exactly what I’ve come to expect with the cut: mild flavor, bun-less, topping-less…and well, just kind of bland. No fries to dip the bit of juice that comes underneath the steak.  I don’t think I will ever fully understand this country’s obsession with steak, but I will continue to try dammit!  I didn’t finish my portion; not out of disdain, but more out of sheer indifference.

The crostini was solid.  Big, juicy chunks of crab with thick slices of avocado atop a buttered piece of toast.  To my delight, they’re served with a nice serving of Burrata cheese.  The Burrata came in particularly handy with the loaf of complimentary bread provided.  The dessert sounded appealing – a Chocolate bomb – but there were no explosions.  It was hard as rock.

It’d be interesting to see how this joint rolls on a Friday night or weekend – and I’d be game to give it another shot.

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All that meat meant a big ol’ mess!

No fewer than five different individuals have recommended I visit Refuge, a sandwich/beer/sports bar joint in San Carlos, California.  After several failed attempts (read: they are not open on Sundays and take long holiday vacations).  I finally scored last weekend and I have to hand it up to my advisers: this place is freaking good.  My running coach also advised visiting after a long run, to maximize the beer and sandwich joy.  So, I did that too.

Refuge is known for its pastrami sandwich, so I didn’t even look at the menu when I ordered.  Curiously, fries are an additional cost; but it’ll be a snowball’s chance in hell before I have a sandwich without fries so I ordered those too.  Not recognizing any of the beer labels on tap, I requested the bartender pour me whatever most closely resembled a Blue Moon.  So there you have it: a sandwich, fries, and a light, girly beer. Oh yeah, the Olympics were on.  Talk about living the American dream.

I don’t often order pastrami, so I couldn’t even tell you what animal it comes from (apparently, beef).  But, in my limited experience, I’m used to it being very thinly sliced.  Refuge serves it thick – as thick as the ham my mom carves on Christmas Eve.  The meat literally melts in your mouth; I actually thought of butter as I ate it.  The edges are crusted with pepper and other seasonings, which really makes the whole thing irresistible.   To me, the meat’s flavor most closely resembles salami, but unlike traditional salami, the chunks literally fall apart at the touch.  Refuge doesn’t skimp on portions either, so managing all the meat between the two slices of buttered rye became a little messy.  The sauerkraut and Swiss cheese were duly noted but let the pastrami take the spotlight (as it should). Sandwich proportions = nailed.

The fries were thick and crispy but could have used a dash more of salt.  Also, I didn’t recognize a single one of the dozen beer levers along the bar, which indicates to me they have a unique variety on tap (but I’d need a beer expert to confirm).  Either way, my “Blue Moon” tasted great.

My word of caution: this place is spendy!  It’s a fairly unassuming joint on the far end of the main downtown street – in the ‘burbs, which I generally assume to be cheaper than the San Francisco.  Like I said, I didn’t peruse the menu before I ordered, so you can imagine my surprise to discover my bill was $33 for a beer, sando, and fries.  After tip, that’s a cool $40 meal!  As I regained my breath, I looked around the dining room and wondered how the young families of four afford a casual $100+ lunch.

My verdict?  Definitely go.  But, take your time, enjoy each bite, and maybe go the day after payday.

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A view of the garage. Pops rocking the stache to the left.

Bread. Like a snowflake: no two slices are exactly the same.

Le Garage: Fried Cheese

There's a sandwich hiding behind those fries.

Le Garage: Scallops - pretty and healthy

Taking full advantage of the ambiguous, awkward Wednesday 4th of July holiday, my Dad and I ventured over the Golden Gate Bridge to Le Garage for a midweek lunch.  This place was clearly not built for walk-in traffic; it’s tucked away at a pier at the end of a long driveway.  Even when you’re looking for it, it’s a little difficult to find (hint: just keep driving until you hit water).  Is it worth the hunt?  I’m not convinced.  The food, ambiance, and service all left a little to be desired.  As the name suggests, it’s a converted garage – which presents its own set of problems. Even at noon on a Tuesday, it’s one of the loudest restaurants I can recall ever visiting.  My neck got a great workout as I strained to hear my dad, who was sitting just in front of me.   I am pretty sure he’s pissed about the California high-speed rail proposition, but I can’t be sure.

The service meant well.  But, when one orders a sandwich and the server brings mussels? Not good.  Such was the case with my dad.  After our server realized his mistake, I sat with my scallops as they furiously whipped up my dad’s actual order.  These kinds of things happen; but they also managed to charge my dad for his sandwich AND the unordered mussels.  Hate to say it, but that’s Le Garbage.

Oh, you want to hear about the food?  My dad and I started with what I would describe as “fried cheese.”  Heaven help you if you can screw that up.  The cheese was lightly breaded, warm, and oozy. It was exactly what I hoped for, if not a bit on the skimpy side.  My entree – scallops – often fall victim to insulting portion size, but with four large scallops and vegetables, I didn’t regret the order.  The butternut squash added a  fresh, healthy dynamic to the scallops.  As is often the case, I enjoyed the (free) crusty bread and butter most of all.  To be honest, when it came to decide about dessert, I was over it and we peaced out.

La Penca Azul

La Pinata: Fish Tacos

La Pinata: Tostada Salad

Again capitalizing on the 4th holiday, I headed over the Bay Bridge for a hometown visit in Alameda.  As a youngster, I learned my ABCs, to count to 10, and about Mexican food at La Pinata.  To my chagrin, La Pinata recently changed its name to La Penca Azul, which I can neither spell, pronounce, nor translate (if you’re curious, the B- I got in college Spanish still haunts me).  It will always be “La P” to me.

The name of the game here – as it should be at all Mexican restaurants (ahem Mamacita) – is large portions and small prices.  I ate and drank myself silly and dropped a single Jackson.  And the food is GOOD.  The menu is about as thick as an encyclopedia – offering everything from Mexican classics, hamburguesas, tortas, to breakfast options – but I recommend sticking to the classics.  Between all the sides and complimentary chips & salsa, Jac and I couldn’t finish off our shared fish tacos and tostada salad.  We waddled out with money left in our wallets.  Excelente!

Zero Zero

Zero Zero: Pork Belly with an Egg

Chickpea Bruschetta (and other stuff)

Fried Chicken!

So... Many... Options..

Put a fork in me

As my mom texted me last year: “Zero Zero is a Ten.”  The restaurant celebrates its two year anniversary this month and has been a wonderful edition to SOMA.  Zero Zero’s chef, Bruce Hill, has been a consistent fixture in my blog because of his other two spots – Bix and Picco.  Each serves a different purpose and slightly different food, but each renders me speechless.  Bix is the nice one; Picco is the suburb one; and Zero Zero is the (sort of) casual pizza spot in SOMA.

Zero Zero is focused on pizza and small plates (there’s no burger unlike the other two outlets).  I bypassed pie this visit to focus on all the other small plate temptations.  Perhaps one of my favorite plates of all time is the avocado bruschetta offered at Picco and, not surprisingly, it’s just as good here.  The concept of avocado on toast isn’t revolutionary; it’s just executed better than… anything.   In fact, the bruschetta offering is even more robust at Zero Zero, with a spicy, crunchy chickpea option in the mix.  It’s not a 10 like the avocado bruschetta, but I had no trouble polishing off my share.  Interestingly, the fried chicken falls under the “antipasti” section of the menu but it’s hardly a starter portion size.  Fried chicken has to be one of the most volatile dishes out there – it can be really good or really bad.  No surprise endings here, it was awesome.  The bird is served over a spicy chili and yogurt sauce, to remind me I was at a classy establishment.

Dessert was the last thing I needed at this point, but I just don’t have the willpower to say no to a build-your-own ice cream sundae.  Maybe I’m running out of steam, but I can’t even come up with words to describe what this is like.  Have you seen build your own sundaes (except for McDonalds – which, admittedly, is good)? I have not.  There are limitless combinations and I hope to try them all.

As the sundae situation illustrates, Bruce Hill is all about taking simple pleasures and doing them really well. 

Needless to say, July was a good month. Bring it on August.  Suggestions welcome…

Le Garage
85 Liberty Ship Way
Sausalito, CA

La Penca Azul
1440 Park Street
Alameda, CA

Zero Zero
826 Folsom Street
San Francisco, CA

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To be clear: Bread, meat, cheese, fries, cole slaw, bread (in that order, top to bots).

Nicely seasoned fries

Come with your appetite.

The interior is comfortable and homey.

Another interior shot

How can you say no?!

I admit, most my posts are about “nice” places in the city.  In my defense, they’re everywhere in this city!  Find me a delicious $6 burger that is not In-n-Out Burger and I will happily oblige.  Also in my defense, I do try to pack my lunch or eat microwave dinners most of the week so I can justify these nice visits – and I don’t think you care to hear about Lean Cuisine here.  So, that being said, I recently visited Giordono Brothers - a cheap, delicious sandwich shop – and am thrilled to sing its praises.

I recently joined a new team at work, so it was just a tad too soon to call the shots or object when my teammate suggested we venture out to the North Beach sandwich shop.  You better believe I was skeptical and perhaps slightly annoyed.  Who does this guy think he is??  He’s not even from here.  But being the team player I am, I hiked with my new pals Derek and Marissa to the Columbus street spot.  Immediately I knew I was in for a treat.  No frills, nothing overpriced; just simple, good food.  And a lot of it.

The sandwiches range from $6.75-7.25 and, with a shared side of fries amongst us, lasted me two meals.  The premise is simple: you choose the meat and the rest comes standard.  Just as the words “what is Capicola…?” left my mouth, I turned to the left and read the “Definitions” chalkboard.  There are about eight meats – conveniently defined near the register – to choose from.  I went for the spicy ham variety while my peers went for Coppa and Pastrami.

Okay, so what sets this ‘wich part?  That would be the pile of fries layered inside, which saved me my arm strength of having to do it myself (note to self: lift weights later).  I don’t know many Pittsburgh-style spots in the city – okay, any – so this was new and exciting to me.  The slices of bread are thick and squishy and support the inside ingredients while not inhibiting their natural goodness.   Perhaps the most impressive component of the sandwich is the slaw: it’s vinegar based, so it’s light – not mayonnaise-y or overwhelming.  This is definitely a healthy meal (<- sarcasm/wishful thinking).  My perception of Pittsburgh just went from Shittsburgh to Hitsburgh.

I was so impressed with everything that, on the walk back to the office, I egotistically announced to my coworkers I knew of a better sandwich in the Financial District.  In the moment, I had no idea what I was going to suggest.  Finding a sandwich as cheap as it is good is a tough order.   I know my choice now, though.  Stay tuned for the results of the Financial District sandwich throwdown.

Giordano Brothers
303 Columbus Avenue
North Beach

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Stop 1: Chouquets

Stop 2: Florio

As many of you may have heard, June 30th marked the last day restaurants could legally serve foie gras (starting today, they will be fined $1,000).  I’ll spare you my political commentary on the issue and focus on the positive: I used the deadline to embark on a “Farewell to Foie” tour.  What can I say, when life hands you geese – make foie gras.

My first top was at Chouquet’s, a French restaurant on Fillmore Street not far from my apartment.  To mark foie’s last legal day, Chouquet’s offered an appetizer and a entree featuring the delicacy.  Knowing I had another stop ahead of me, I opted for the sliced foie gras appetizer.  As I waited for my dish, I looked around and noticed everyone had the stuff in front of them (which must have been the entire .001% of the population who actually eat foie gras).   I probably eat foie gras one time each year, and I was reminded why last night.  The stuff is rich.  I can’t even eat it straight; it’s richer than butter.  It melts in your mouth.  Chefs know this and always serve it with some sort of accompaniment (usually toast and something sweet). At $16, it seemed a little pricey but I took comfort in knowing it wouldn’t be a budgetary expense any longer.

After I closed up at Chouquet’s I wandered back even closer to home to Florio.  Never have I seen this place so crowded. I managed to find a single bar stool toward the middle of the dark bar and waited several minutes before the bartender could take my order.  Since I was by myself, I had a chance to listen to other people’s conversations and everyone was buzzing about the ban.  It was satisfying to somehow participate in the movement and state my opinion with my order – without disrupting or inconveniencing anyone.  Fundamentally, Florio’s foie gras was similar to Chouquet’s: sliced and served with bread and cherry compote.  I preferred the consistency (thicker, harder) than Chouquet’s.  It was also more generously portioned and slightly cheaper.

Clearly, whether I recommend these restaurant’s foie gras is a moot point.  However, I can still speak to their strengths and weaknesses generally.  They’re both relatively simple, approachable, and “neighborhoody” spots.  While they’re both overtly French, each embraces different aspects of French culture.  Florio has a dark, sophisticated, and even brooding mood.  Chouquet’s, on the other end of Fillmore, is the antithesis to Florio with its bright orange bar stools, lively atmosphere, and open windows.  They’re both key to creating Fillmore Street’s down-to-earth – albeit foie-less – personality.

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Complimentary bread

Get there at 11:30 to avoid long lines!

Local Squid (daily special)

A lot of work

Can't beat the view.

The Menu

People travel thousands and thousands of miles to have the experience that Hog Island Oyster Co. provides: Ferry Building, waterfront patio seating, Bay Bridge view, and local oysters.  When I ate there last week, I couldn’t help but marvel about the fact that I live here.  If you’re trying to show off the Ferry Building to out-of-towners, for the love of food, please, please, please take them to Hog Island over Slanted Door (next door).  Don’t get me started on Slanted Door…

I love Hog Island’s simplicity. Aside from the half dozen or so oyster varieties, there are only a handful of other options. I opted for a Local Squid special; a generous portion of squid, green beans, and Spanish chorizo, spinach, and potatoes. The ingredients were tied nicely together with an essence of lemon; creating a very light and citrusy finished product. This dish, with a few oysters beforehand, was more than enough to fill me up – without a stomach-ache or food coma that afternoon.

Of course you have to order a round of oysters before the main course (or not if you stop by their Happy Hour). I’m still ramping up on my oyster knowledge, so depended on our server’s advice. Just describe your preference (large, small, briny, etc) to your server and he or she will happily guide you.

Nothing says relaxation to me like a round of oysters, glass of wine, and a good view of the bay. Hog Island delivers on all three.

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Art

Burger - bird's eye shot

"Big time" daikon

View from the chef's counter. They didn't stop for a second.

Puffs (Potato, parmesean, and fried garlic puree)

Pig terrine. Translation: Pig head mashed together.

It's not pink, red, or white wine (or beer). It's "orange" wine.

Burger - Inside Shot. Calling all carnivores...

“You might get some ear in there too!!” was part of our server’s explanation of the pig terrine special.  Mashed up pig head parts is a pretty standard offering from the Asian-influenced menu at Namu.  While some of the dishes were more unusual than anything I can recall eating anywhere else, we also closed with an American classic. You can play it safe or get adventurous at this Mission District spot.

Attempting to describe Namu in a word or two is futile. It had a great run in the Richmond district, garnering much positive press and burger buzz.  It recenty reopened in a small, narrow spot on the northeast corner of Dolores Park.  The Asian influence is palpable in both the decor and the food, but there are traditional American options as well (burger, cheese puffs).  The restaurant’s ambiguous identity is part of its appeal.  This isn’t mindless eating or an experience to rush; each dish is so thoughtfully prepared that it’s a disservice not to savor and discuss each and every bite.  I recommend ordering several dishes and going the family style route.

We started with the night’s special: pig terrine.  The consistency of the meat is like a pate; it’s not quite spreadable but it’s soft enough to mold over the toast.  I still think bacon is Pig’s greatest gift to mankind, but the combined pig parts create a very savory, salty, porky flavor.  No reason to be scared off by what part of the animal it comes from – or by the fact that there may be an earlobe tucked in.  The plate is adorned with fresh vegetables and mustard seeds which create a beautiful visual and interesting balance to the meat.

Naturally, my favorite of the small plates was the fried cheese puffs.  The interior is a hot creamy mixture of cheese and potatoes.  It’s very lightly fried – the exterior is soft, not crispy – and divinely paired with a creamy aioli sauce.  A groundbreaking addition to the culinary world as we know it? No.  But it’s done extremely well, and damn, those suckers went down nicely.

One of the most bizarre looking dishes ever set before me arrived next – the “big time” daikon.  To be honest, I had never heard of daikon and needed the server to educate me.  It’s a root vegetable, not unlike a radish.  In this preparation it’s poached so the vegetable has a baked potato softness, which is great to soak up the fishy broth flavor.  The most striking aspect of this plate is the whole fish laying over the top of the daikon; per the instruction of our server, we ate the swimmer whole. Again, best to be adventurous at Namu; while I had to close my eyes as I put the fish’s head in my mouth, once in, I was struck more by the crispiness of the fish than its flavor.  It’s not something I imagine I’ll wake up in the middle of the night craving, but an interesting experience nonetheless.

Now, to address the reason I went there in the first place: the burger.  I see Namu’s burger on many “Best of” lists, so I was excited to see what all the fuss was about.  Like everything else about the restaurant, I can’t quite describe it.  It’s clear that the chef wants the meat to be the star of the show; the bun and toppings are merely supporting actors.  The meat is so thick I couldn’t get it and the bun in my mouth at the same time. I had to sacrifice the bottom bun – and the bun is unusually thin.  This works for some people, but I felt a little overwhelmed and even a bit defeated.  I loved the flavor of the egg yolk in each bite but also noticed it sogs up the buns very quickly.  I think there are different “burger personalities” – Namu’s plays well to the meat-loving crowd (I’m all about the balanced relationship between the various components).  Not to be forgotten are the fries.  They are awesome.  Much like the puffs, the fries are not crispy on the outside; but don’t fall into the soggy trap.  They also had a rich potato flavor – I know you’re thinking “duh!” – but how often have you had a deep fried fry and forgotten it used to be a potato?  The inherent potato flavor is evident in each bite.  I couldn’t keep my hands off of them.

The service is excellent.  Our server was friendly and enthusiastic.  She clearly loves Namu’s food and her passion was contagious.  She patiently described each dish and made astute wine recommendations.  When it started to get very crowded, her colleagues graciously attended to our empty wine glasses.  That is rare.

I am really curious to hear everyone’s opinion about Namu.  Please go! And then maybe we can find a word in the dictionary to describe it.

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Moroccan Chicken Soup

Focaccia Bread - so soft and eggy with sprinkles of sea salt

Lamb Tartare

Red Wine Braised Beef "Stifado" - from the Dine About Town menu

Chicken Wrap

Lavender Bread Pudding - like a snowflake, no two bread puddings are the same

I’ve been to Sens more times than I can count because it never lets me down.  Since I’ve blogged about it before, I’ll keep the write-up about my most recent visit brief.  Let’s just say that Sens kept its winning streak alive – making it a very SENSible place to go for your next meal in the Financial District.  Here’s a quick snapshot of my most recent visit::

- Lamb tartare: well portioned, awesome choice for raw meat lovers. The lamb flavor isn’t overwhelming; the focus here is on the texture of the raw meat.

- Moroccan lemon chicken soup: wonderfully flavored with a dash of cinnamon and harissa. One complaint: could have been several degrees warmer

- Lavender bread pudding: unlike any bread pudding I’ve tasted. It’s not the hot, sloppy stuff I’m used to, but I got a kick out of the lavender and combination of flavors

- Also pictured: soft, eggy focaccia bread; a braised beef dish from the Dine About Town menu, and a chicken wrap.

Now that the weather is nice – book a lunchtime reservation, sit outside, and enjoy the culinary SENSations.

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"Gnocchi" - A sure bet for my Top 5 this year

From the Rhone region - heavy on the pepper and aggressive on my white teeth!

The famous Chicken and Warm Bread Salad

One of about 8 portions from the salad.

View onto the open kitchen from my seat.

Leftovers = chicken sandwich the next day

If you go, please sit upstairs (the first and probably last time I advise NOT sitting at the bar. In fact, there are no bar stools so, luckily for me, it’s not even a temptation). The second level is a small maze of private nooks and passageways that create a wonderfully cozy and private dining experience. I was lucky enough to sit overlooking the kitchen below and got to watch the cooks buzzing around the kitchen. I’ve never eaten at a B&B, but I imagine this might be what it’s like.

While the restaurant itself is iconic, there are few individual dishes more famous in this city than its Chicken & Warm Bread Salad (Danko’s lobster risotto, Mina’s tartare, and Nopa’s pork chop also pop to mind). Because the salad is made to order, it takes approximately one hour to arrive – so order it the moment you sit down. It is portioned for two – in reality, it could easily feed four – so negotiate with your dining partner beforehand that this is what he/she will be eating with you. At $48, it’s actually quite a good value: not only did it feed Adrienne and me for dinner, but as you can see from the photo, it made a delightful sandwich the following day (and the day after that, and the day after that…)

Just the image of the salad is astounding: an entire roasted chicken piled high atop chunks of warm bread (think giant, soft croutons) and a subtle amount of greens. To call it a salad is almost doing it a disservice; it’s almost entirely meat and carbs. The tiny currants and pine nuts add tartness and crunch to each bite. To me, chicken is difficult to make exciting (unless it’s battered and deep fried) but Zuni’s preparation got me giddy. The chicken itself was perfectly salty and juicy while the skin was crispy. Add that to the unusual accompaniments and I couldn’t think of anything I’d eaten like it. It’s one of a kind.

I mentioned the hour wait for the chicken – view this as an opportunity to be blown away before the salad, because you will be. Adrienne and I opted for the Bellwether Farms ricotta gnocchi with black trumpet mushrooms and spinach. Never, ever have I tasted something like this before. Technically, the dish isn’t really gnocchi as there isn’t any potato; it’s made solely of flour, ricotta, and egg (our server, Tim, was incredibly patient and knowledgeable about everything on the menu). Who the &%$# cares what a dish is called when the resulting bite is a light, yet insanely rich taste of heaven. Each pillow is an explosion of flavors: mild ricotta, rich egg yolks, mushrooms, and an occasional crunch from the few nuts sprinkled over the top. It’s paradoxical how the “gnocchi” can be so airy yet at the same time so expressive. I know Italy is in no shape to handle another blow, but this dish outdid anything I ate there last month. Top 5 dishes of the year.

The wine selection is long and our server Tim was an expert. I was on a mission to try a Rhone and he walked us through the ten or so options, providing a descriptive explanation for each. We decided on the 2008 Saint Joseph, which was a little too peppery for me, but I’m glad I tried it. Like everything else about the restaurant, the service is unpretentious but still totally on point.

I frequently get asked “where I should take so-and-so when they’re in town?” Answer: Zuni.

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