All things food
All things food
My childhood best friend got married last month in Montery, and it was an opportunity for me to revisit the lovely Bay area. It would be John’s first time to northern California so naturally, we made a list of all the things we wanted to see and do. You would think our list included the Golden Gate Bridge, Lombard Street, Fisherman’s Wharf, Ghirardelli Square, Alcatraz, or riding a true cable car. But no, being the foodaphiles we are, we saw none of those. Each day was about getting from one food item to the next. It was insane but in an awesome insanity kind of way, as much as insanity can be awesome. Needless to say, we are already missing the Bay area: the weather, the atmosphere, the nature, and especially the food. Here is a little tribute to our recent trip to lovely NorCal.
We arrived late Friday night so of course we hit up the In-N-Out by the airport. I was not terribly hungry because I’d caved on the plane and bought a cheeseburger (which, surprisingly, was not bad for airplane food—thanks, Continental/now United), so I just ordered their animal-style fries. Now if you’re not familiar with In-N-Out’s secret menu, animal style just means adding caramelized onions and thousand island dressing on whatever it is you ordered. Thus animal-style fries means this topping on top of fries. In-N-Out is good but honestly, I prefer Five Guysto In-N-Out. I know, blasphemy…but hey, I have my opinions. Maybe there will have to be a future post on this topic.
Saturday morning, we immediately hit up the Ferry Building farmer’s market for we’d heard so many great things. I remember on John’s first trip to NYC, he came upon the Union Square farmer’s market and was in awe; it was the first farmer’s market he’d ever been to, and he was so happy gazing at all the vibrant produce and interesting local eats. Of course, the one in SF’s Ferry Building would be that much better. And better it was. Blocks of booths and stands and food venues. Asian pears, samosas, oysters, coffee…it was a food paradise. We tried New Orleans style coffee from Blue Bottle which we’d also heard about. The lines were long but there were two locations within the venue, so we got our orders after fifteen minutes. The coffee is very fresh—the beans are ground on order (which explains the wait). We also tried a few different types of oysters from Hog Island Oysters which also had two spots in the area. We opted to order ours from the farmer’s market stand rather than the restaurant inside the Ferry Building. At $2 each, they are not cheap, but they were definitely fresh, smaller and sweeter than the Gulf Coast’s larger and brinier variety. Here oysters tend to be eaten with just a little olive oil and shallots rather than cocktail sauce and horseradish, a method that supposedly preserves the taste integrity of the oyster. Either way, they were delicious.
We saw another long line at RoliRoti, a mobile rotisserie unit. The couple in line advised us to try the porchetta, a slow-roasted pork served on ciabatta bread. After the dude behind the counter chops up your pork, he takes the bread slices and mops up the pork juices so all that fatty goodness soaks into your ciabatta. A little sweet onion dresses the sandwich, and voila, you’ve got yourself a $9 sandwich. We ate the porchetta (which was featured in Men’s Health for being one of the 10 Best Street Eats in America) on a bench facing the bay with the sun smiling down on us. Life is good, man.
On Sunday, we returned to the Ferry Building to eat, this time, inside the Hog Island Oysters restaurant. John and I shared a flight (“flight” sounds better and less Applebee’s-like than “sampler platter”) of oysters with our friend Stan: a variety of 24 for $60—steep, but hey, we were on vacation. Upon Stan’s recommendation, we also tried the clam chowder. It came in a thin creamy soup that tasted heavily of bacon, and the small clams were swimming inside with their shells still on. John, who is used to thick chowder, made me happy when he said it tasted a lot like my clam chowder with the exception that I’d used canned clams instead of fresh—next time, I’ll have to try using live ones. We also ordered the oyster stew which wasn’t bad but wasn’t great. The portions are small (perhaps I’m used to huge impossible Texas dishes); and 24 oysters, three stews/chowders, and three non-alcoholic beverages set us back $130. Ouch, but as usual, when we’re on vacation, we eat like our wallets are bottomless.
Next we grabbed ice cream at Mr. And Mrs. Miscellaneous in Dogpatch. I had the jasmine green tea on a cone while John tried both that and browned butter. Mr. And Mrs. Miscellaneous is one of the many ice cream shops serving up creative flavors in SF, e.g. candied violet (which tasted like a purple Skittle exploded in my mouth). The ice cream is served in a perfect ball on top of a skinny cone; it looked just like a toy and was so adorable that it made me love the shop even more for presentation. What is it about ice cream that gets your heart pumping? The scientific answer is probably all the cream and sugar that goes in it, but the romantic side of me prefers to say it’s the sweet coolness of it hitting your tongue that causes the endorphins to go out of control.
For our first supper (that’s right, I said first,/em>), Stan took us to Kabuto Sushi where I had the best sushi I’d ever had in my life. Even when I went to Japan in 2007, the sushi was not as delicious as Kabuto’s. Okay, so there’s a huge caveat: when I went to Japan, we couldn’t afford to eat at the real sushi joints because they were way expensive so we only ate at the kaitensushi bars which, yes, are considered the fast food of Japanese sushi. I’m sure if I’d had the better sushi in Japan, it’d be comparable if not better than what I had at Kabuto. But regardless, Kabuto had the best sushi I’d had this side of the Pacific. Everything was ordered a la carte, and each piece was roughly $5 a pop. The traditional sushi we had was blue fin tuna (my favorite bite that evening), butterfish, escolar, Tasmanian salmon (which was disappointingly lavorless), and sea urchin. We also had some of their more creative sushi like the fatty tuna seared with a blowtorch; foie gras with raspberry on top of sushi rice; yellowtail paired with pear and hot mustard; a twist on the classic ceviche served on seaweed; and last but not least eel tossed with pear, foie gras, and chocolate sauce served in a martini glass. The presentation of this last one was a bit over the top for my taste but in terms of taste and creativity, it was the winner among the creative line.
Immediately after we settled the bill at Kabuto, we made our way across town to Thanh Longwhere we had our second supper of salt and pepper dungeness crab and garlic noodles. We also tried their shaking beef which used ribeye steak and came so flavorful that it didn’t need the traditional dipping sauce.
I left stuffed and was sad that I could not enjoy more of Thanh Long. That is what I get for being a glutton. We went home and while waiting to fall asleep, looked up where to eat the next day. We knew we’d be heading to Napa: more good food and drink. Stay tuned for more of our SF eating adventures.
The last time I posted an urban garden update, it was before Houston hit its hottest time of year–that is, the month of August. This year’s summer has had record-breaking heat, record-breaking lack of rain. For every single day in August (and I’m not even exaggerating), we had highs above 100, and I can only recall one morning when it sprinkled. You can imagine how desert-like our city has become.
The drought and extreme heat have not left our garden very viable. In fact, the only thing that seems to be thriving is our Thai basil which, I guess, thinks it’s back at home with this climate. Most everything else has withered like a great-grandma’s toes. I recently wrote a piece for Eating Our Words about what we can do to drought-proof our urban gardens (or at least make it drought-resistant). Got any tips on how to protect your crops from this crazy weather? Help us turn our brown thumbs green, and share the knowledge. Click on the link below to read my Houston Press post.
It’s been six months since we planted the first of our urban garden. Since then, we’ve expanded a little; the backyard is now home to all the original herbs–rosemary, parsley, thyme, cilantro, and oregano–in addition to the original broccoli heads. In February, we purchased lemon and lime trees, roma tomato plants, Italian basil, and Thai basil. We had to show up bright and early at the nursery and elbow all the old people out of the way to get to the tomatoes and basil–those things sell like hotcakes. We were happy to get our hands on some but ended up destroying so many of them anyway. So here are the lessons learned during the first six months of our brown-thumb urban gardening.
TOP 5 BROWN-THUMB LESSONS LEARNED IN THE FIRST SIX MONTHS
John is already talking about building another garden bed–the Beta Bed, it would be called. This garden bed would be built from scratch (rather than from the Costco kit) so that exact dimensions are achieved at a fraction of the cost. In this Beta Bed, we will employ all of our lessons learned in the first six months of urban gardening and try our hand at bettering our brown thumbs–maybe they can become beige. We’ll use the correct dirt, give plants enough space, use an efficient crop rotation. Check back later for more updates.
If you’ve ever been out west, you’ve likely come across Trader Joe’s, a decades-old organic grocery store offering higher quality foods at lower costs than, say, Whole Foods or Central Market. While I love Whole Foods and Central Market, their prices just sometimes leave me flinching. With some new competition on the block, consumers will have wider options, and I’m super stoked to have one open in our city. According to Houston Press‘s food blog, the market will open its first Texas store in Dallas by the end of 2011 and is currently scouting sites for their Austin and Houston counterparts. For years, I have been lamenting our lack of a Trader Joe’s, so you can imagine how excited I was when this news broke some weeks ago. Now my only perturbed question is: why does Dallas get everything first? (Ahem, H&M?)
Since today is my birthday, I decided to do a post on where to find some of the best cakes in Houston. So here is the short list in no particular order:
Where do you get your favorite cake?
WHEN: Saturday, May 14 from noon to 7 PM and Sunday, May 15 from noon to 5 PM
WHERE: HCC southwest campus (5601 West Loop South)
With Houston often racing neck-to-neck with Philadelphia to be America’s fattest city, and with a plethora of diverse (and actually really delicious) cuisine, it is only fitting that Houston host a food truck festival. Food trucks have been all the rage of recent years, beginning with perhaps the stinkin’ Kogi truck of southern Cali (which I stood four hours in line for–don’t even ask) and culminating with Food Network’s “The Great Food Truck Race”. What is our obsession with food trucks? I can only speak for my own personal penchant for them, and it stems from a love for travel and, if you look even deeper, a love for adventure.
I was bitten by the traveling bug as soon as I had a little money to do it. It began with my first trip to NYC my senior year of college during spring break. It was the first non-family trip I took that involved getting on a plane (and not just loading up in a car and driving down to South Padre). It was then that I realized there were so many other things in this world that I had no clue about, and I suddenly wanted to be cultured. If NYC blew me away, what would Brazil, Ireland, Turkey, Japan do to me?
Of course, I’d always loved food as well. And when I got older, accumulated more dollar bills in my pockets, I started venturing to more places, finally able to afford the finer things in dining life. And when I began to lose my vision, my appreciation for the sense of taste grew exponentially. Traveling has obviously become more of a burden now that I cannot see, and I often couldn’t care less about sightseeing, but trying indigenous foods of other cultures? I’m on that like white on rice.
And how else does one experience true foods of a country than by eating at street vendors? That’s where you spend the least money for the most authentic (and often, tastiest) delicacies. And thus is born my/our love for food trucks. It gives us a sense of adventure, like we are in the middle of Copenhagen instead of just plain old Houston. (Or, rather, Mumbai since that’s probably closer in climate.)
So the point of this whole long-winded post was to inform you that Houston will host the first food truck festival on a HCC campus in mid-May. Tickets ($16 for adults and includes $5 of concession vouchers) are limited, so get yours now. You can bet I’ll be blogging about it after the fact. Bon appetit!
Houston, TX 77019
Who doesn’t love brunch? What’s not to like about eggs and such savory delicacies melting in your mouth at the perfect time of day when it’s not too early that you’re rejuvenated and not too late that you still have a whole fresh day ahead of you? My friend, Teresa, loves brunch, and she told us about the yummy spread offered every weekend (11 AM to 3 PM on Saturdays and 10 AM to 3 PM on Sundays). I keep hearing from other friends that the brunch at Hugo’s is also phenomenal and being that Backstreet Cafe is their sister restaurant, I had to try the brunch for myself. But first, a little descriptive story behind the restaurant…
Backstreet Cafe first opened its doors in 1983 as a burger joint but has since become a fancy diner serving fine foods in an intimate atmosphere. When I say intimate, I don’t necessarily mean quiet and dark–our brunch experience was far from that with the noisy bustling of the staff through the enclosed patio’s French doors–but I mean it’s cozy. My husband describes it as a sort of French country, beachside cafe. Just the kind of place I’d love to dine in; if only I could see! The restaurant is nestled inside a 30-year-old house in the River Oaks district and while I’ve only been here for brunch, I’d definitely want to return to try their other menus.
Of course, now on to the important part: the FOOD. John ordered the Backstreet Benedict ($14), their rendition of the classic eggs Benedict: two poached eggs atop cheddar chive biscuits under a slather of jalapeno hollandaise sauce with Canadian bacon and grits. Teresa and I had the special which were ham and gruyere crepes. We thought it was really good although Houston Press bloggers called it secondary to the lobster sandwich. (I’ll have to try that next time–perhaps a gourmet lobster roll?)
Service was prompt and courteous, and we had a good time with our small group. I’m sure Easter will be crazy so maybe make reservations today.
For John’s birthday last year, I treated him to a dinner at Feast. By word of mouth, I’d heard that Feast features an exotic menu with locally raised and grown meats and veggies. The point is for the diner to be able to track exactly where it is the food on their plate came from. It was an enjoyable meal and not too pricey–you can even stop in for a cheaper lunch menu. We’ve been meaning to go back, and now’s a better time than any with today’s Living Social deal: for $20, you get $40 worth of food and non-alcoholic beverages at Feast. Located on Westheimer between Taft and Bagby, it is an unassuming little eatery offering great dishes. On Saturday nights, they even cook in the kitchen at Grand Prize Bar a few blocks over on Banks. Treat yourself to some good food, but hurry, the deal ends at the end of the weekend.
13155 Westheimer Rd.
Houston, TX 77077
I first discovered Indian food when my college roommate unpacked tupperwares filled with brightly colored edibles into our mini-fridge in our dorm room. When my roommate missed the comforts of her mama’s home cookin’, all she had to do was pop a tupperware into the microwave, and volia, there was mama’s curried potatoes, cauliflower, spinach, chickpeas…
She was always kind enough to offer me some, and I nibbled only with reserve, feeling guilty for taking her mama’s food. But I enjoyed the bursts of flavor and spices that Indian food had to offer. My palate only grew more adventurous after college when I was finally making my own money and could afford tasting different cuisines. I found myself craving Indian food whenever I thought about my friend’s midnight snacks, the aromatic herbs wafting out from beneath the crack of our door and filling the hallway with delightful pungency.
“Where can I find good Indian food?” I asked another friend once I moved back to Houston post-graduation.
The best Indian food in Houston, she told me, was actually only blocks from my home. Gourmet India, an unassuming restaurant located in an abandoned strip mall where the dollar theater I used to frequent as a child sits as either a modified Bollywood theater or a vacant storefront, cooks up some of the best Indian food I’ve ever had. True, I didn’t grow up with an Indian mama, and true, I’ve probably eaten in less than a dozen south Asian restaurants, but nothing has beat Gourmet India’s dishes. Seriously.
My father only discovered the place recently after my husband and I took him there. It’s a shame that after 20+ years of living in the same house, he only now got to eat at this fine restaurant which is literally down the street.
The dishes I tend to order are:
All the dishes I’ve gotten here have not been a disappointment. If you prefer to try a little of everything, lunch is often an all-you-can-eat buffet Of course, you can always order my staples; I’m almost positive you won’t be disappointed. I’ve learned to make chicken tikka masala at home (though it’s not as good as Gourmet India’s), but for the life of me, I cannot find a decent saag paneer recipe anywhere. So I’d be grateful if anyone out there could send me one. Anyone?
1001 Studewood St.
Houston, TX 77008
3.5/5 bone marrows
Note: The restaurant lighting was way too dim for any quality photos so no images for this post.
For one of our Supper Club experiences, we ventured to Stella Sola, which came highly recommended by a foodie friend. The restaurant supposedly fuses local Texas ingredients with Tuscan flair, this being yet another project brought to the Houston dining scene by the same crew that brought us Reef and Little Bigs.
“You thought the bone marrow at Catalan was good? Wait till you try the marrow at Stella Sola,” Foodie Friend said.
So we did try the bone marrow at Stella Sola. But we had to wait a good long time for it. The service was incredibly slow–we must’ve waited over 30 minutes for our appetizer. The bone marrow was delicious, but I recall Catalan’s bone marrow to be superior; Stella Sola’s was not as rich, and I preferred the condiments served alongside the marrow at Catalan. Or maybe I was already grouchy from having waited too long.
For my second course, I had the “country style” pork rib with bacon braised greens, olive oil mash (whatever that is), and lemon mostarda ($23). (What is with these complicated menu descriptions anyway?) The sides seemed to me like a polenta, and I wish they would’ve just called it so and save us all a headache. The first few bites were good, but as the dinner wore on, my dish began tasting saltier and saltier. My dinner companions also noted that their dishes–a Wagyu steak (which the server described as a Texas kobe) and a local Texas fish–were nothing to rave about and definitely not worth the price.
In the end, we were lukewarm about our experience. I personally would not choose to go there again, but to be fair, I’ll usually give everything a second chance. Stella Sola seems to fall into line with my impressions of the other sister restaurants. While I liked Reef, I didn’t buy into all the rave with Little Bigs. And that’s exactly how I felt about Stella Sola: it’s good but nothing awesome.
When I told Foodie Friend that I was unimpressed with Stella Sola, she admitted that their prices dictated more of a “sitting at the bar and ordering just the bone marrow and wine” type of visit before heading elsewhere for a more suitable meal. Oh well. At least I can say I’ve tried it. But the fact that I was ambivalent about something Foodie Friend had raved about makes me wonder if I have truly transcended what is considered normal and entered into true gastronomical snobbery. That idea, too, causes me ambivalence.