Calzones in North Beach

Yes, last weekend I was suckered in by a tourist trap. Walking the sunny streets of North Beach with slowly developing hunger pangs, we strolled past Calzones and initially kept walking. I couldn't resist a picture though, the scene was charming.



We walked on, saw other things and other stuff. Talked to people, watched some events, and saw a man about a dog. Eventually we came back to Calzones. My gut told me, it said, "This is a tourist trap, enticing tourists with its sidewalk seating and colorful tiles." But the rest of me was seduced by the sweet tables on the tile sidewalk in the warm fall North Beach sun. We sat down and ate the following:



The above grilled artichoke was cooked perfectly. If you cook an artichoke well, you will never do me wrong. It is my favorite food on the planet. This one could have used a little less butter, but the butter certainly didn't make it taste bad by any stretch.



D started with this lovely, and huge, arugula salad with feta, sun dried tomatoes, garbanzos and artichoke hearts. Very lightly dressed, it was fresh and delicious.



Next we shared an order of house made fettuccine with broccolini, pine nuts, fresh and sun dried tomatoes. The pasta was quite sublime, accessorized gently with olive oil and lots and lots of roasted garlic slivers. I love the veggie to pasta ratio. Close to 1:1. Lots and lots of broccolini made this dish very light. I would eat this again anytime.



We polished the meal off with a couple of beautiful double espressos. Keep your head up and your wits about you all the way to the Oakland airport. Le sigh.


P.S. Calzones has an impressive airplane bottle collection. They were all winking at me as I turned to snap a pic. "Fly away!", they said.

Cafe W AS: Fail

Ivan Kane knows how to create an atmosphere, and I think he tapped into something much needed at the corner of Sunset and Vine. West side glamour with a decidedly east side intelligence.



The rooms, floors and antechambers are eclectic, yet have a successfully cohesive vibe. Of course I love the Bukowski Room, despite my ambivalence about his work as a poet. The room is daring and fun.

I loved the pianist. His playlist pandered just enough to keep the patrons happily humming along to the occasionally familiar song, yet mysterious enough to remain interesting.



The piano rotated around...



and around....



and around.





Unfortunately, in the words of T, "does Ivan Kane know food?" Apparently not. Our food was beyond bad. It was sordid. Let me modify that statement. The warm mini loaves of bread were good.



I love the idea of canapes. It is unfortunate that they were not worthy of eating. The tuna tartare with avocado, mango and sweet soy did not deliver. There were no sweet nor savory flavors popping out, and the tuna was slightly mealy. Did not seem extremely fresh.



The tartelette de foie gras was uninteresting. The crust was too soft and the filling was like duck liver baby food. Tres uninspired, although the little wedge of grape on top was crisp and fresh. I love grapes. I have some nice ones in my fridge right now.



I enjoyed eating the crab & heirloom tomato Napolean, despite the fact that there was nothing Napoleanesque about it. And I am afraid those were decidedly NOT heirloom tomatoes. But the flavors were lovely, the crab was fresh and lumpy and it was lightly dressed, just as I like.



The above skirt steak caused the biggest problem. D cut into a piece of the toughest flesh I have ever seen. Now, this is a man who likes his steak cooked well done. He loves it charred within an inch of being charcoal. Loves his steak cooked in a manner that will cause a chef's hair to curl. I don't believe in sending back a steak you have ordered well done. You ordered it ruined, you suffer the consequences. However! This was not even well done. It was bright pink in the middle. Even the bright pink middle bits were beyond chewy. I spit my bites out. I couldn't chew it enough to swallow. Additionally, it had a gamey flavor that made D fear he would contract bovine spongiform encephalopathy. This was disgusting. Our lovely, wonderful, charming and indulgent waiter insisted on returning it to the kitchen and expunging the offending beef from our bill. I wouldn't have asked, but he insisted. Actually, suffering through that horrific food was almost worth it to be waited on by such a charming young man. This kid was raised well. He is Ivan Kane's nephew, by the way. We just adored him. Imagine, a 24 year old kid who has just moved to LA, is working as a waiter and does NOT want to be an actor. I felt faint, but it might have been a slight case of food poisoning.



D finally ordered the above French onion soup, which was actually delicious. TONS of onions, a lovely slightly sweet broth and cheese broiled to perfection.

Mr. Kane, it was lovely to meet you in person. Please, hire a new chef today, no yesterday. And congratulations on your amazing nephew. He made our evening.

I left my heart....

On Sunday, we planned to see the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the SFMOMA. However, the line to both buy tickets and get in the door was so long it changed our minds for us.



So what to do with 5 hours in a sunny and warm Sunday in San Francisco? Simply walk the streets. We started by window shopping in Union Square. Apparently, Chanel is pushing sweater dresses this fall.





The John Varvatos mother-ship calling D home:



This Lacoste outfit is the cutest thing. Mommy, I want it NOW!



This Gucci outfit made me laugh out loud. Clearly, this is either designed for idiots or gay pirates. I am unsure which.



The newish Neiman Marcus facade. The stained glass ceiling of the rotunda remains the same, but this new front lets in the beautiful light, when there is such a thing in SF.



This lovely little deli with tables in the street of Maiden Lane was calling to my eyes, but my tummy wasn't hungry yet.



There is always something special at the Egyptian Cafe on Market, veddy close to the Four Seasons.



Where else but in San Francisco is Old Navy housed in a historically significant building?



Passing by the cigar shop...



I saw this chess set made of Jack Daniel's icons. I thought of Josh S.



The Beat Museum in North Beach has only been opened for two years. I could have spent all afternoon browsing, perusing and chatting with the young man behind the counter...





The mural.



I remember being a very young 21, trying to drive up this hill in a stickshift, looking for parking to go to a show at The Stone. Dumb. Just dumb.





I have always been entranced with the colorful street signs of the seedy strip joints in North Beach. They are beautifully old school







Somewhere in North Beach, there is a mechanical toy store. They had this miniature scenario set up in the window, papparazzi clambering for photos of the strong man and the world's tallest man. It's hard to see from this pic, but one of the pap in the fromt has been knocked to the ground. I am guessing the strong man kicked his ass. I didn't see a Cameron Diaz doll anywhere.





And of course, for P and for me, I had to stop by the world's greatest coffee shop ever. I have beautiful memories of drinking espresso at the Trieste with my boyfriend who rode the coolest Ducati.



Trips to San Francisco are bittersweet for me. I left part of my heart when I moved from there, always intending to move back again and retrieve it.

Wowed at Boulevard in San Francisco

Thanks to the friendly posters at Chowhound, I made my way to Boulevard in San Francisco Friday night for a special and wonderful meal. Their web page says this about Boulevard:

"Chef Nancy Oakes is San Francisco's most beloved chef. Since its opening in 1993,
Boulevard has been hailed as one of the best restaurants in San Francisco.
Created in partnership with designer Pat Kuleto, the elegant, yet warm and welcoming
interior of Boulevard is the essence of the Belle Epoque style. It is a glorious setting for Chef Oakes hearty, flavorful, beautiful cuisine. American regional flavors, French influenced style, enthralling design, form the entire experience at Boulevard. Located in the heart of the San Francisco's revived waterfront area, the historic Audiffred Building is the ideal home for Boulevard."



I apologize for the sub-par photos in this review, I couldn't find the charger for my camera's batteries, and took all these pics on my iPhone. The interior of Boulevard is so stunning, I took loads of photos. Unfortunately, due to the soft lighting and lack of contrast in the decor, most of these were worthless. And they don't really do justice to the beautiful food either. In most cases without photos, I might not bother with a review. But this meal was so delicious, so satisfying, so artful, I couldn't let it pass by without thorough commentary.



We arrived early and started with a martini at the bar. If this was as fabulous as reputed, I wanted an opportunity to soak in the feel of the restaurant before eating. I cannot say enough about the beauty of the interior. From the brick vaulted ceilings, to the sparkling peacock in the mosaic tiles in the floor, the atmosphere is celebratory yet comfortable. There are several places to dine. In the front which has a brasserie feel, the rear which is a more formal dining room, and at the counter in front of the kitchen watching the food assemblage. I adored the look of these cozy love seats nestled against the windows facing the restaurant. Ideal for people watching.



We chose these cute dime store ice-cream counter stools in front of the kitchen and watched the cooks' every move.



The person who was the most fun to watch was the expediter. He got his paws on nearly every dish that came through the kitchen. It was wonderful to see the beautiful array of dishes passing through on their way toward patrons' tastebuds.



We tried to share out appetizers. We really did. But it turns out we ordered correctly because we were both most enamored with our own choices. I chose the roasted stuffed calamari. The tubes were stuffed with ingredients classic to a Manhattan clam chowder, clams, potatoes, onions and bacon. Upon serving, a broth resembling that from a Manhattan chowder was poured on top. Not enough to cover the squid, just enough for it to take a shallow dip. I wish the picture did the russet red broth justice. Le sigh. I loved this. LOVED.



D ordered the highly recommended golden beet and fresh goat cheese ravioli. These were huge and looked more like dumplings. They were covered generously in shaved summer truffle and roast hazelnut. I didn't think the flavors stood out strongly enough from one another in this dish. But apparently it is highly popular, and D thought it was awesome.




We both ordered fish for mains. Here, the kitchen puts the final touches on OUR plates. How cool is that?



I had a halibut served over summer squash risotto with roast chanterelle mushrooms. On the side were two beautiful squash blossoms stuffed with brandade, battered and lightly fried. Nom.



D ordered the black cod with lobster mushrooms and shrimp served over a yellow corn nage. On the plate was the much dreaded and feared foam, but this time it was used to good effect. It tasted like it was made from the broth of a thick chicken noodle soup, and added some lovely flavor to the dish.



I had read somewhere on the internet that desserts here are a force to be reckoned with, so D ordered a beautiful individual chocolate ganache cake with bourbon ice cream. He said it was good.



I busied myself with one slice of a firm goat cheese. I love seeing what restaurants pair with cheese courses. This was a winner. On my plate was a small square of honeycomb (my favorite paring), apricot jam (so lush), whole wheat bread slices and a little bunch of baby grapes. They look and tasted like baby concords, but I am not sure.



I will definitely want to be eating here next time I am in town.