Sain't Christopher

Ciao and Slurp

Listen: dining is human culture at its best.

We are the only animals that share meals as a form of social exchange.  This is not normal.  Even your friendliest golden lab will let you know how short the chain back to feral survival is once you start reaching into the chow zone. In a world where every animal but us only eats what it can, we are so blessed to eat what we want.

And if that weren't enough, we eat in restaurants, dressed up. 

Last post I mentioned SuperLuckyKitty, my first great dinner partner.  Since then I've been fortunate to have many others. People who thoroughly enjoy the whole experience, people who order with abandon, people who aren't afraid to stick their fork in someone else's plate, people who fear no credit card bill.  Two weeks ago I found a new one. Her name is Penney.

And boy did she choose a great restaurant.

Sociale (pronounced So-challey) is a true Italian Trattoria.  Lots of places use the word in their title and description but few ever capture the true meaning: the service is casual, the prices low, and the emphasis is on a steady clientele rather than on haute cuisine.  It is tucked away in the middle of a city block in Pacific Heights.  Half the restaurant is indoors and the other half on a beautiful small patio surrounded by nice flowering trees.  All together, the place might sit 60 at the most.

Eating al fresco is SF is always a crap shoot.  While the rest of California was enduring the first days of its recent heat wave, we were treated to warm days in the '80s  and a string of nights without fog, but a nice on shore breeze.  Penney and I started out with half glasses (yet still a healthy pour) of 2004 Verdicchio di Matelica La Monacesca.  A white wine not quite like one's we're mostly familiar with.  Kind of like a brighter, fruitier Pinot Grigio maybe.  When I asked the waitress to recommend a wine, she chose this one- and it was the cheapest of the glasses available.  Gotta love that.

For starters Penney had the friend Fontina cheese stuffed breaded olives on a bed of greens and I had the baked Ricotta with Black Mission Figs and unfiltered honey.  Both tasted really good and were surprisingly large portions for the Bay Area.  We watched as other plates went by, tempting but too large for just a deuce.  Going back with a six pack of friends and just ordering everything is definitely something I'd consider next time out.

For main plates she had the Pappardelle with braised duck, procini mushrooms and peas.  It was so damned good.  I thought it might be too heavy for a summer dinner, but I was wrong.  That plate went back cleaned.  I had the brick chicken with white balsamic marinated peppers.  Boring?  Unadventurous?  Probably.  But, hear me out: I was already so impressed with the place that I knew I'd be coming back.  So, I got to indulge in my Can you cook a chicken? snobbery test.  I think that a lot of chefs and cooks want to put their best into the fanciest dish they were inspired to create- but all of my favorite cooks have given that same love to the humble chicken.  I was not disappointed, it was great.

With dinner I'd brought wine:

1999 Casisano Colombaio Brunello di Montalcino $24
90 points Wine Spectator: "Very pure aromas of crushed fruits and green tobacco. Full-bodied and chewy, with very good tannins and a long finish. Needs bottle age to open. Best after 2005."

The wine had softened, I guess, it was not chewy.  Instead, I found it light and fruity enough to compliment our meal.  Shame it's sold out, should have bought more when I had the chance.

For dessert we shared the cherry mascarpone gallette.  A lovely rustic dessert that I enjoyed because, well, I'm a cherry whore.  Cherries are my favorite fruit.  For two months now I've burdened my staff with pitting Bings, Brooks, and Morellos to the point we've broken two pitters.

Of course, all of this would have been just a fine experience by itself, but Penney proved herself a consummate dining companion.  Not everyone would have given up more than just one of those fried olives.  Tomorrow we are having dinner at Chez Panisse.

Go in Peace

Half a Long Post

My first great dining experience was at the old Golden Mushroom in Southfield.  Actually, my first three great dining experiences were all there.

The Chef-instructor for my high school vocational class had apprenticed there under Chef Milos.  That doesn't mean much to you, but it's kind of the equivalent of learning to find a mate by having God himself hand you one of your own ribs.  The man was the first Certified Master Chef in the country.  He had more awards and respect than anyone else in the field.  In '88 I was an Assistant Judge for the state Culinary Competition (held a clipboard, got a free meal) and in the judges room there was all hell going on because not one student got a gold medal.  Milos walked in the room and you could hear a pin drop.  He, basically, told them they were idiots and that they could kill a whole crop of apprentices by crushing them with unneccessarily harsh standards.  No one bickered, God had spoken.

Bossio and I went on a grown up date there for my first visit.  Full on suit and five times my excess weight in awkwardness, we were seated right next to the kitchen door and I could see the line.  Cool.  A formal but condescending waiter lectured us on the menu.  I still remember what we had.  First course was a watercress salad with oven dried apples, candied walnuts, and crumbled blue cheese.  I'd never cared for blue cheese before, but this was a whole different experience.  First, it wasn't Kraft Bleu Cheese that my mom bought,  second, it was married to complementary and appropriately contrasting flavors.  She had a soup that I was dumb enough, inexperienced enough, not to say Hey, can I taste?  Then again, I didn't share either.

For a main course, she had Beef Medallion Tournedos, one with Charon Sauce, the other with Hollandaise.  I had the Smoked Roasted Capon Breast with Raspberry Demi-glace.  With all respect to my date that evening, it was the best thing I'd had in my mouth ever.  For dessert, we each had the Chocolate Mozart Cake, the house signature dish.  It was four different layers of chocolate cake.  Another rookie mistake- we ordered the same dessert.

Don't ask about wines.  We weren't old enough.

Still remember the look on the waiter's face when he asked How will sir be paying for this and I pulled out three hundreds and set 'em down.  Then we got friandise- with respect comes chocolate.  Everyone else had them before the check came

My next trip there was with the Dragon a year or so later.  It was a Saturday, we were rough from the night before and had that hangover hunger stuff going on.  Said I'd take him to lunch and, as it was a Saturday and probably slow, I thought I'd shock him by going to the Mushroom.  Wearing flannel shirts, 501s, with odd '80s hair colors and in we walked.  The Dragon had the broiled Canadian White Fish (he said it was great) and I had the NY steak sandwich with Green Apple-Horseradish Mayo.  Again, I was blown away.  18 years later I spent $23 on a cookbook solely to get that recipe, it stuck in my head so deep.  The waiter, actually the Head Waiter, took great care of us and I tipped heavily for his tolerance.

My last great experience there was with SuperLuckyKitty.  We were both working at The RattleSnake Club and it was a bit of a FU to the owner, Jimmy Schmidt, to go to the Mushroom.  Milos had made no mystery his opinion of Herr Schmidt, his food, and his fancy new restaurant.  Why you go to work for that Betty Crocker chef, he asked a former apprentice who worked with us.  It was a Thursday and we just walked in.  Instead of waiting an hour for a table, Kitty said we should just go to the bar and order apps.  I was bright enough to stop from blurting out You can do that? Won't they get mad?  Kitty ordered a dozen oysters for herself.  I was in awe.

From these three trips I learned most of what I know about having a dining experience, a memorable culinary and social experience:  If you can pay, you deserve to be there.  Impulses pay off, never pass an opportunity to indulge.  Order without fear.  Later, I learned what I will call the KT corollary: just order everything.

I brought all of this up to intro a review of my latest great dining experience.  But that will have to wait until tomorrow.

Go in Peace

Acting in Concert

Last night the Dragon and I went to one of those rock 'n' roll shows that all the kids are talkin' about. 

LJR had a pair of tix for the Raconteurs Sunday show at the Warfield.  Still tied up with her show's run down in San Jose, she generously gave them to me.  She's a huge Jack White fan and has been since the Stripes were only a Detroit and England phenomena.  Last December she scored us tix for the Live 105 Not So Silent Night show that featured Jack and Meg.  Her dedication was such that she was willing to wait until 10pm, when I finished work, before heading over to catch a 5 song set, 22 minutes, before turning around and going back home.  It must not have been easy for her to give these seats up.

The Dragon is a long time fav partner for music shows.  Just to get a reaction out him I pointed out that Amazon had recently e-mailed a recommendation for the 20something anniversary DVD of David Bowie's Serious Moonlight tour.  Yeah, a quarter century of shows.  Small things like a really cool performance by Fugitive Poetry for barely two score people at Reruns up to being back stage at REM at Chrisler Stadium and even with 70,000 others for the Who's first farewell tour back in '82. 

Nice thing about going to shows in the Bay Area?  Even in your early 40's, over half the crowd is still older.

Lately we've mostly gone to jazz shows over at Yoshi's, where we both tread in the deep end.  Jazz fascinates me, I enjoy it, but haven't a clue what's going on.  As a musician, the Dragon gets more, but he doesn't listen to it as much as I do- we usually end up talking politics after pauses.

Last night, we were in our element.  The Raconteurs are a thoroughly accessible, band and we sat up in our seats having such a great time that I asked a guy in our row to take a photo of us with his cell and today he emailed it to me.  I'm on the left.

Unsurprisingly, I'd only heard one song by the band before, but this wasn't a problem.  Jack White is a great student of the pop/rock form and the songs were all accessible.  And good.  The band was tight, polished, and seemed to be having a good time.  Jack White was having a blast.  This was great to see.  The set LJR and I caught last x-mas seemed to be no fun whatsoever for him.  He stomped and stormed thru the songs and didn't talk to the audience but a few words.  Not that I blame him.  The truth about those radio station sponsored shows is that the bands are extorted into playing for free (even though there's usually a good cause in there somewhere, never think this isn't about PR and rotation).  Last night there was banter, dancing, and clear joy in the lad.  Obviously, the Stripes setup doles a lot of the heavy lifting to him whereas the new band leaves him to be a guitar god.  And who wouldn't enjoy that? 

All in all a great evening out.

Go in Peace

Summertime, and the blogging is slow

Aaannnnnndddd . . .  we're back.

Last night I went and saw Clerks2 with Luke.  Made sure I went on opening night so that I'd be there with an audience of like minded individuals.  We wanted to like this movie, we already liked the characters and maybe as a group we could enjoy this even though we've all been thru the sequel disappointment experience factor.  Already this summer I suffered, I mean suffered, thru X-men 3*, and almost fell asleep during Superman.

*If I read one more critic draw the Malcom X vs. MLK metaphor, I'm gonna start swingin' and I don't care who gets hit.

Clerks, 12 years ago, was a great flash, a hip indie movie that captured the sensibility of male friendships dead on.  Much to my surprise last night, Kevin Smith pulled it off again.  Liking this movie and these characters twelve years later is the same experience as liking your own friends after the same time.  There's a bit of injury, frustration, disappointment, and even anger that is continually balanced against the love.  The acting is sketchy, the direction a bit awkward, and the story has holes. . . bit it still cracked us up and we still rooted for the characters.

I was a movie fanatic during the first half of the '90s.  SF has a great arthouse scene and I live next to the Lumiere, opening house for Clerks, Slacker, Go Fish, Resevoir Dogs, Barcelona, and others.  I took a bit of pride in knowing that I had seen every film on the marquis.  That fell off as indie became the new mainstream and I just got tired of films that seemed to be auditions.  Look!  I can make a formulaic hollywood movie on the cheap, now give me money for big film!! 

The only other film I've enjoyed this year was Strangers With Candy.  Again, familiar territory.  But it was a movie that took some risks and had a sense of spirit to it.  Oddly, this shows up in the obtuse performances by Sarah Jessica Parker, Matthew Broderick, and Philip Seymour Hoffman.  Their acting, fine and professional, just doesn't work.  Kind of like wearing a tux to a picnic.  Everyone else goes happily about chewing scenery and overacting and that's what worked in the show and the movie.

Go in Peace

Hunka Hunka

Heads up, campers.  Last week LJR recreated her many roles in Idols of the KIng and the show will run at the California Theater thru the month.  I'll be going this weekend and probably again next.

Go in Peace

Splat!!

When you've decided you're done being productive for the day, go to jacksonpollock.org and have a blast.

Go in Peace

Sin City Zero

Riding in a cab over to see the Titanic Exhibit:

Me:  So on the monorail yesterday, I saw the Hooters casino.  Did you know they're logo is a big owl?

Go in Peace

Sin City 2

Sitting around the poker table:

The Sister:  We could go to New York New York or Paris and check those out
The Brother in-law:  I hate Paris.  All the staff dressed up and going around with fake French accents
Me:  And yet you had no problem with the authenticity of the Kingons last night at the Star Trek exhibit.

Go in Peace

Sin City 1

Sitting waitng for his show Music and Passion to begin:

The Sister: Is Barry Manilow gay?

Go in Peace

Vacation

I'm in the middle of a vacation and decided to take a bit of time off from the blog as well.  There wasn't much that was funny the last two weeks.  I'll be back at it come Monday July 10th.

Thanks to everyone who sent some love KC's way.  Ingrid was an awesome lady and she'll be greatly missed..

Go in Peace