Going solo.

After my trip to Sonoma, I worked from San Francisco for a few days. I had one day where I worked from the office, but without my friend YaeRi. Left to my own devices, I decided I'd give Super Duper's veggie burger a whirl. I got it with everything, plus avocado, and it was wonderful.

Equally delightful - if a bit overwhelming - were the garlic fries, tossed with parsley and a bit of parmesan cheese. Make sure to get the dipping sauces, too. Split these, though, if you're not on a solo expedition like I was - you don't want to be the only one with the garlic fries breath, you know?

Super Duper
721 Market Street (Between 3rd and 4th)
San Francisco
415.538.3437

Run with a view.

Over the course of our weekend in Sonoma, I went on three morning runs.

They were chilly, but beautiful.

I mean, running in Central Park has its charms, but even the views downtown from the north side of the reservoir have some stiff competition when it comes to these.

Family style.

Way back when at the beginning of December, I flew out to San Francisco for the very best reason of all - to celebrate a friend. My friend Jason turned 30 recently, and 13 of us gathered in Sonoma to fête him with the proper pomp and circumstance. On our last day, we headed over the hills to Yountville for a visit to one of Jason's very favorite places, Thomas Keller's family-style restaurant: Ad Hoc.

The deal with Ad Hoc is that you show up (you can, and probably should, make a reservation) and eat whatever's on the menu for the day. You can sign up for menu updates on the website, but I kind of like the idea of being surprised. We went for Sunday brunch and completely hit the jackpot: chicken and waffles. Before the true debauchery started, though, we had a delightful citrus salad, with crème fraiche and frisée and candied nuts. It was amazing - the different kinds of citrus (pink and ruby grapefruit, blood oranges) were luscious and juicy, and the nuts added richness while the crème fraiche added body.

And then came the main event: fried chicken with sourdough waffles. Two dishes like this one were brought to the table, and the six of us killed them both. How could we not? It was the best fried chicken I've ever had. (Keep in mind, that's coming from a Yankee, so...) I could tell the meat had been brined, but only in the good way (not in the overly-salty, too-watery way), and the crust was crisp, flavorful, and adhered. Adhering is key, you know, because you want some in every bite. Skin that comes away in one piece with the first bite is no good to me.

The waffles were delicious, too - crisp on the outside, tender on the inside (not unlike the chicken, come to think of it), and speckled with bits of rosemary. Doused with cream gravy and maple syrup, the plates of chicken and waffle were just...so good. So satisfying. So wonderful.

I could only eat three bites of dessert, but not for lack of delicious. It was a spiced chocolate pot de crème with Chantilly cream, with snickerdoodle shortbread served alongside. The cookie and chocolate went marvelously together, and that's coming from a woman who rarely likes anything other than marshmallow, caramel, salt or nuts coming anywhere near her chocolate.

After lunch, we went for a little stroll around Yountville, starting in the garden behind the restaurant. As a born and bred Northeasterner, I don't know that I'll ever get over the magic of citrus trees in full bloom. Or perfect fried chicken.

Adorable and caffeinated.

Healdsburg is one of my very favorite places in all of Napa and Sonoma. It's small and charming, but chock full of excellent shopping, food and coffee. And they decorate the pine trees in the park in the center of town, too. So freaking adorable!

On this trip, we made a stop at Flying Goat Coffee before making a circuit of the town. I haven't made an exhaustive survey or anything, but I feel comfortable saying it's unlikely you'll find a better cup in the area. I had a bittersweet mocha, and it was delightful. Rich and interesting, and not at all too sweet. My friend Jeff had the Mexican version, with a whole host of ingredients that sounded overcomplicated, but actually turned out to join together and sign in perfect, delicate harmony.

And such pretty machines, too.

Flying Goat Coffee
324 Center Street
Healdsburg, California

Take two.

A couple of weeks ago, I ventured out to the Sonoma Valley for a friend's 30th birthday extravaganza. Many a good time was had (with many a detail to come), but one of the highlights was revisiting the amazing taco truck I discovered back in 2009, when I visited Sonoma for my 30th.

While the truck is no longer named Angelina's, the food is just as spectacular - and, trust me, we ordered enough of it to be sure of its consistency. Something like 12 tacos and two burritos - not to mention the tlayuda the staff insisted on making us. It's a sort of giant tostada, and it's a popular food in Oaxaca, where the staff come from. It was pretty freaking good, guys, and I wouldn't recommend leaving the truck without ordering one. Carnitas, tomatoes, avocado and cheese adorned a huge, fried tortilla. Between the six of us, it went so fast that I couldn't even get a shot of the thing.

The tacos were stupendous as well, with the chorizo coming out ahead as a favorite. I ate everyone's radishes, since they didn't see fit to do so themselves.

And, finally, the burritos. You have to go supreme, because you need that crema, trust. And make sure to get the lengua. It's rich, flavorful and just a touch on the chewy side of tender, which is exactly what I like in a piece of meat. (I always go sirloin over tenderloin.) While the carne asada burrito was tasty, the lengua burrito brought us to our knees, to the point where we just repeated the word "lengua" at random throughout the weekend.

Lengua. Lengua. LENGUA.

What I've been up to.

Mostly this, which is Thomas Keller's fried chicken from his restaurant Ad Hoc in Yountville. I've been in California for several days, visiting a dear friend and celebrating another's 30th birthday.

I'm in a bit of a fried chicken fog, but I'll be back with far more very, very soon. In the meantime, get your holiday shopping done and leave a comment or two letting me know how your meal planning is coming along. I'm really feeling fancy latkes this year, and can't wait for my annual sticky toffee pudding.

Off - or, rather, on - the wall.

On my last day in San Francisco, Faith and I took a drive out to Flora Grubb Gardens, a florist-cum-design shop deep in the Mission District. Loyal New York Times Weddings & Celebrations readers might recognize the name; Flora hosted her brother's wedding reception at the store, and the union was featured in the Vows column.

It's a pretty nifty place; Faith termed it the Anthropologie of flowers, and that's about right. The store sells plants, pots, stationery, cut flowers, garden furniture, Ritual coffee, brownies and assorted decorative objects.

Among its coolest items, though, are the walls of tightly-packed succulents. You can buy a small version, as small as 11 inches by 14 inches, but why would you do that when you could cover a whole wall of your apartment in such an amazing, gravity-defying mix of texture and color? It's living art, and I love it.

Flora Grubb
1634 Jerrold Avenue
San Francisco, California
415.626.7256

On the (road)side.

When we were in Napa a few weeks ago, my mother and I - of course - made a pilgrimage to Taylor's (now re-christened Gott's - read about that particular saga over here) in St. Helena. No trip to Napa would be complete without one of their superlative burgers.

This time, instead of fries, we decided to split an order of onion rings. Now, I don't eat onion rings very often, mostly because I find them to be nearly universally disappointing. They're feckless little things. They feign competence, arriving all hot and golden and crispy, but they shed their delicious batter on any kind of contact with my mouth, leaving me with pointless, flavorless batter and limp, sad onion. There's nothing fun about that.

But Gott's onion rings aren't like that. These have a delicious beer batter that - get this - actually sticks to the onion! No matter how many bites you take, the two remain one! And what a delicious one they are. Well-seasoned with salt, perfectly cooked and crispy. These are onion rings as God and Mother Nature intended, my friends.

Oh, and - the burger is, of course, still stellar.

Gott's Roadside
933 Main Street
St. Helena, California
707.963.3486

A little bit of Paris in Yountville.

On our first afternoon in Napa, my mom and I paid a visit to an old favorite: Bistro Jeanty. Bistro Jeanty sits on Washington Street in Yountville, one of a few restaurants that make up what is quite possible the best couple of blocks for food in the entire world: The French Laundry, Bouchon, Bouchon Bakery, Bistro Jeanty and Ad Hoc. They're all right there; you could, theoretically, spend the entire day just eating, never walking more than a couple hundred feet between meals. (Someone's probably done it; if not, get on it, people with stomachs of steel!)

Bistro Jeanty opened in 1998, and has been packed to the gills for pretty much every meal ever since then. It's a bistro in the classic French style, serving perfect versions of all the dishes you've ever loved from that genre, including vol-au-vent made with sweetbreads and braised rabbit, cassoulet and daube de boeuf. On our visit, I decided to go for two smaller dishes, starting with one of my favorite things: frisée aux lardons salad.

Bistro Jeanty's version is served as a perfect poached egg perched atop a tangle of frisée and teeny, just-this-side-of-crunchy pieces of bacon. The vinaigrette itself is deliciously smoky; I wouldn't be at all surprised if this were due to a pinch or two of bacon fat in the dressing. In fact, I hope it is, because I plan to copy it.

Next up, one of the day's specials: pieds de cochon. When I ordered this as my main, the waiter cautioned me that it was an appetizer; was I sure I wanted such a small portion for my lunch? I assured him it would be fine, and was soon vindicated by the arrival of a dish accompanied by mashed potatoes. Anything that comes with mashed potatoes simply is not an appetizer!

Regardless of how you classify it, this was a delicious dish. Pieds de cochon does, in fact, mean pig's feet, and consists of the random bits of meat from the trotters, bound together in a kind of charcuterie not too different from headcheese. It's not unusual to see it served lightly breaded and fried, as this version was. It was very rich, and seasoned with tiny bits of black truffle. In face, I don't think I could have handled a bigger portion; it was perfect as it was.

For dessert, Mom and split what has to be one of springtime's great treats: fresh strawberries with creme fraiche and brown sugar. The tangy cream, the sweet berries and the molasses flavored sugar all combine into a little piece of heaven. If you've never had a chance to enjoy this combination, do it now - especially since strawberry season, at least on the East Coast, is at its height.

Bistro Jeanty
6510 Washington Street
Yountville, California
707.944.0103

Best. Chicken. Ever.

On the Thursday night I spent in San Francisco, Mom, Faith and I paid a visit - a pilgrimage, really - to the legendary Zuni Café on Market Street. Zuni opened in 1979, and Judy Rodgers became the chef there in in 1987. She's the one who installed the brick oven that sits in the heart of the space, and she's the one who created what turned out to be the best roast chicken I have ever eaten.

Seriously.

This chicken was insane. Moist, rich, full of flavor, and served with a warm bread salad that put every single helping of stuffing I've ever enjoyed into an entirely subpar category.

I can't wait to recreate this one myself; I'll be following Smitten Kitchen's slightly simplified version of Rodgers' recipe. Join me, won't you?

Zuni Café
1658 Market Street (Between Franklin and Gough)
415.552.2522

Photo courtesy of Ann&Ming on Flickr.

Flour, water and a pinch of alchemy.

On the Sunday night I spent in San Francisco, Faith, her friend Chrysanthe and I headed over to the Mission to pay a visit to one of the hottest restaurants in town, Flour and Water. Seriously. This place was hopping. We called early in the week to try for a reservation, but no luck. We lined up at 5:15 with about twenty other people, and the place was full from opening till, I assume, closing time at midnight. (Which is pretty late for San Francisco.)

Once we'd eaten our dinner, though, it was easy to see why everyone else wanted to eat there, too. It was one of the best meals I've had in a while, and I cannot wait to make a return trip. We started off with a pizza to share. Flour and Water is Italian, mostly, and heavily focused on pizza and pasta (hence the name). Faith had been the week before and couldn't stop thinking about the ramp and black trumpet pizza, so, naturally, we couldn't help but order it.

It was awesome. The crust was chewy, slightly crispy perfection. The pizza was topped with a pecorino, black trumpet mushrooms, chopped ramps (green and white parts) and a bright green ramp pesto. It was suitably stinky, the cheese was gooey, and the whole thing made me very, very happy.

We then moved on to appetizers. Faith ordered a side dish instead of a salad: roasted carrots with lemon, capers and very finely chopped chives. These were carrots taken to another level. They were roasted in butter, and were sweet without being cloying, tender but not mushy. The capers added a salty, briny note, and the chives freshened things up. All in all, a major hit.

My starter was a "salad" - Flour and Water likes to use the term loosely - of crispy lamb sweetbreads, arugula and artichokes. Artichokes aren't normally my favorite thing, but these were perfect with the sweetbreads. Lamb sweetbreads tend to be a bit creamier than their veal counterparts, and these were no exception. The bitterness of the arugula paired with the astringent flavor of the artichokes helped cut through the fat. Fantastic.

Next up, our pastas. The pastas were all made in-house, and were incredibly fresh. Mine was a tagliolini (a lighter fettucine, essentially) with chopped parsley rolled into the pasta itself. Tossed with the noodles (and with a copious amount of butter) were razor thin slices of asparagus and hand-pulled pieces of braised hen. I loved this. The pasta was impossibly light and delicate, but the sauce, despite its springy flavors, was rich and hearty. Rich flavors, light texture, pure deliciousness.

Faith ordered pici in a brothy pork ragu, which was also delicious. It was one of the lightest ragus I've tasted, free of cream or milk, and swimming in its own juices. Little bits of carrot and onion floated in the sauce, too, and meat itself was tender and deeply porky.

Finally, dessert. Oh, dessert. First up was a rhubarb tart, served with crème fraiche ice cream and fresh strawberries. It was fantastic, right down to the swirl of grassy olive oil on the plate. The pastry was rich with butter, and shattered a bit when cut with a fork. It paired beautifully with the tart rhubarb and sweet berries; rhubarb season has ended in California now, I think - it was great to be there while it was still on every menu.

Last, we had a chocolate budino, which is an Italian-style pudding. It was topped with coffee-flavored cream and a crucial, generous sprinkling of crunchy sea salt. I don't always go for the chocolate dessert, but I couldn't get enough of this one. The salt and coffee made it interesting - and it was pretty good with some of the crème fraiche ice cream from the tart plate. Yum.

Guys, I can't speak highly enough of this restaurant. It was a delicious meal. The service was great - attentive but not fawning, and very, very friendly. The room is warm and welcoming, with just the right amount of buzz. If you can get in, go. If you can't, go early and wait, like we did. It's worth it.

Flour and Water
2401 Harrison Street (at 20th Street)
San Francisco, California
415.826.7000

The (food) moments that shaped my decade.

The aughts are coming to a close tonight, and I've decided to join the frenzy of lists appearing across the interwebs. Mine is a fairly personal, navel-gazing sort of list; instead of naming the biggest events in the food world in general, I've decided to focus on the most significant moments of my food- and drink-centered life over the last decade.

I turned 21 in 2000 and graduated from college in 2001, so the aughts have encompassed my early adulthood, my twenties. They're the years I spent finding my home (Hello, New York!), my career (user experience research and design, for now) and my taste (Sriracha, bacon and Vietnamese food, FTW!). In fact, it's pretty darn hard to distill the most important moments of my eating life down to a list of just ten top ones, so please forgive me for any that seem like I'm cheating by, say, essentially granting a tie to every single moment of my 2006 trip to Europe. Please?

All right, here goes!

Number 10: My first taste of Far Niente's Dolce.
As you all know, I am a huge fan of dessert wines both funky and sweet, and particularly of those that combine the two. Before I tried Sauternes or Banyuls, though, I drank Dolce - which is America's most delicious answer to the former. I still remember my first sip, which took place one boozy Saturday night in 2004, at Ouest with Nick and Louisa, when Nick ordered a 375 ml bottle for the three of us to share. I'd never tasted anything quite like it - syrupy, but not sickly, and infinitely musky and complex. I'd go on to tour the winery in 2006, where my mom practically had to restrain me from buying a whole case.

Number 9: Dinner at Alinea.
This one just made it in under the wire, happening as it did in November 2009. My first (and hopefully not last) dinner at Alinea was predictably delicious, and - despite the giant spoiler effect of following Grant Achatz's restaurant for years - surprising and exciting. It was a meal unlike any other I've ever eaten, one where craftsmanship was present in every bite and whimsy never once trumped flavor. A truly incredible experience.
Number 8: Discovering the wonder of Vietnamese food.
Gradually, over the last eight years, my Asian cuisine of choice has slowly shifted from Chinese, to Thai, and finally alighted on Vietnamese. The original Asian fusion, Vietnamese food combines Asian ingredients and flavors with French technique, and has given us such culinary delights as pho (a noodle soup like no other) and the currently super-trendy banh mi, a sandwich full of terrine, herbs, pickles and pate, served on that most French of breads, the baguette. It's slightly funky, thanks to the ever-present fish sauce, but also refined, thanks to a balance of flavors and textures. And I just can't get enough.

Number 7: Making banh mi at home.
Speaking of Vietnamese food - but, seriously, folks...I'm including this past summer's banh mi-fest not only because the results were delicious, but because I think it marks a culmination of the collaborative cooking and exploration Louisa and I have done together. We push one another to try new and different techniques and ingredients, using our time together each summer to tackle a couple of new projects. These banh mi, for which we made everything from scratch - even grinding our own meat - save the bread, are our proudest achievement to date. A repeat performance is planned, and we'll be upping the ante by baking our own baguettes.

Number 6: Ditching vodka for booze with actual flavor.
Just as there's a place for water in the pantheon of great beverages, there's one for vodka. That place, however, is not in a cocktail, and certainly not in a martini. If there's one thing for which my boozehound side is most grateful to the aughts, it's the cocktail craze, and, in particular, the resurgence of brown spirits and gin. Gin is just...better. As is bourbon. And dark rum. And...everything. Vodka is great in a Russian restaurant, served ice cold alongside caviar, but that's about it. I know some of you disagree, and that's your perogative. But, you're, um, wrong.

Number 5: Discovering Thomas Keller.
Obviously, I didn't discover Chef Keller, but he didn't mean much to me before, oh, 2003 or 2004, at which point I became obsessed with eating in at least one of his restaurants. Since then, I've cooked from three of his cookbooks (Bouchon, The French Laundry and Ad Hoc), eaten at three of his restaurants (Per Se, Bouchon and Bouchon Bakery) and become a devoted fan. His mashup of American ingredients and know-how with classic French technique may no longer be revolutionary, but it's still revelatory: I dare you not to fall in love with Bouchon's entire menu. Go ahead - in fact, I double-dog dare you.

Number 4: Joining eGullet.
I joined the internet food fray in 2005, when I became a member (and, eventually, a staffer) of eGullet. For a time, it was my absolutely favorite place on the web. Full of interesting, smart people who knew a ton about home cooking and the restaurant world, it was where I first stretched my food-loving wings, and, in particular, my food-writing muscles. It's where I learned about Sriracha and how to make puff pastry. It's where I learned how to take decent photographs of food. And, most significantly, the two week-long foodblogs I did there in 2006 and 2007 gave me the confidence I needed to start my own blog, which is coming up on its (gasp) third anniversary.

Number 3: Making my first mayonnaise.
I read Amanda Hesser's memoir Cooking For Mr. Latte when it first came out in 2003. It was a sweet book, but I was more interested in the food than in the love story, and was determined to become as sophisticated an epicurean as Ms. Hesser herself. Thus inspired, I made my first mayonnaise from her recipe, and have been whisking ever since. It marked the first time I ventured into truly classical, technique-focused cooking, and the deliciousness of homemade mayonnaise convinced me that (most) shortcuts are, indeed, for suckers.

2. My trip to Europe with Louisa.
Louisa and I spent two weeks in Prague, Strasbourg, Champagne and Paris in 2006. The trip cemented us as best friends, thanks in great part to the enormous amount of bonding we did over food and drink. Whether it was duck in a Prague pub, flutes of Champagne in a Reims tasting room, or steak tartare in Paris, the food we ate and the sights we saw created a common set of memories and experiences that will be ours, alone, forever. It also happens that the trip included two of my top meals of all time (at Chez Yvonne and Camille in Strasbourg and Paris, respectively), the best eclair in history, and the most satisfying doner kebab ever. All in all, two weeks that will live in memory - actually, in perpetuity, thanks to the internet.

1. Shopping at the Union Square Greenmarket.
Blame it on Dan Barber, Michael Pollan - whomever. For a myriad of reasons, I started shopping seasonally and locally a few years ago, and have no plans to go back. Oh, sure, I still buy frozen vegetables, and I do buy cucumbers out of season - not to mention the occasional flown-in fish. But, thanks to New York City's incredible Greenmarket network, I've been able to do a remarkable thing: support local businesses, reduce my carbon footprint, and make super food - all at the same time. Nothing's changed my eating habits more drastically in the last decade than my effort to shop as much as possible in Union Square (or at one of the other Greenmarket outposts around the city), and, for that I am grateful.

So, folks - if you've managed to stick it out this long - what were the formative moments of the aughts for you? Share in the comments - and Happy New Year!

Pie, pie, pie!

On my first afternoon in San Francisco, Faith and I dropped off my rental car at the airport and took the BART back into town. Our first stop? Mission Pie.

Mission Pie is well-named; this pie restaurant & bakery has been selling quiche and tarts in the Mission District since 2007. Created by the founders of Pie Ranch, a sustainable, educational farm in Davenport, Mission Pie started as part of an outreach program and has become a neighborhood gathering place. (You can work at Pie Ranch and live in a yurt while you do so, by the way. Check it out.)

The store's space on Mission Street is adorable and airy, with high ceilings, salvaged fixtures, and an assortment of colors and shapes. (I especially liked the salvaged medallions made into light fixtures.) The staff are sweet and helpful, and after a bit of hemming and hawing from me over what to order, we asked for a slice of quiche (with cauliflower and capers), a slice of pie (mixed berry crumb with whipped cream) and an iceberg wedge salad.

The wedge was delicious - cold and crisp, served with a creamy bleu cheese dressing, crispy bacon, and perfect, sweet California tomatoes. Honestly, coming back to this season's lackluster Eastern tomato crops was a crushing disappointment after the bounty we saw out west. Sigh.

The quiche was similarly good. Creamy, but not too rich, and filled with large chunks of cauliflower, it was filling and managed to seem healthy, despite its flaky crust. The capers studded throughout added both flavor (Yum, salt!) and texture (Oooh, slightly odd popping sensation!). A win.

Finally, the pie. Oh, the pie. The crumb crust was great - tons of brown sugar flavor, and plenty of textural contract, thanks to oats and just enough butter. The filling was full of berry flavor, with pieces of strawberry and raspberry milling around. Despite a healthy dose of citrus juice, though, the filling was a bit too sweet for me - the whipped cream brought everything back into balance, though, so I managed to power through.

Whatever the birthday girl wants, Thomas Keller provides.

After a day of burgers and champagne, what's a girl to do? Well, when she has a 30th birthday to celebrate, she piles into a limo with her closest friends and family (and a few bottles of champagne) and drives from Sonoma to Napa for dinner at Thomas Keller's Bouchon.

In his cookbook of the same name, Keller famously describes Bouchon as the place he likes to eat after a night of cooking at the more formal French Laundry, just down the street in Yountville. It's a traditional French bistro plopped down in the middle of Napa Valley. (You might think it would be lonely, but it's actually just a few doors down from another traditional bistro, Bistro Jeanty.)

The food at Bouchon is traditional, but not boring. In fact, I can safely say that it's among my top ten favorite places to eat in the entire world. The food is beautifully & meticulously executed, made with loving care and the best ingredients available. Case in point? Jeremy's French onion soup, made with a deeply rich beef stock and loads of sweet onions. Topped with a brioche crouton the exact size of the bowl and covered in melted gruyère, it's the most sinful soup you've ever seen. (Except maybe for the butternut squash soup, which Keller finishes with a stick of browned butter.)

For my starter, I ordered a special: an egg poached in red wine (oeuf en meurette), served with another of those inimitable croutons, extra red wine sauce, bacon and frisée. It was essentially a frisée aux lardons salad, minus most of the salad part, and it was delicious. Rich and silky, smoky from the bacon and just slightly dry, thanks to the red wine.

A couple of years ago, I spent a few months having nothing but disappointing steak after disappointing steak. I went to Bouchon and, with great trepidation, ordered the steak frites. And while it broke my losing streak, it ruined me for all other versions, possibly forever. I didn't order the steak frites this time, but Jeremy did. The steak at Bouchon is off-the-charts, thanks in part to the paste of shallots, butter and herbs decorating the top. The steak is cooked on a flattop, spread with the shallot mixture, and then finished under the broiler.

For my main, I had the duck: magret de canard and confit. The sear on the breast and legs was great, but my favorite parts were the huckleberry gastrique and the savoy cabbage. Sweet sauces pair beautifully with duck, and this one was no exception. The cabbage, with its peppery, slightly sour flavor, offered a nice contrast to the rich duck and the sweet fruit.

I somehow missed taking pictures of dessert, but I can assure you that it lived up to the rest of the meal. I ordered the restaurant's signature dessert, the bouchons - little cork-shaped brownies made with bittersweet chocolate. They were supposed to be served with mint ice cream, but since I pretty much hate mint in my desserts, I made a special birthday-girl request for coffee ice cream, and my wish was granted - all before I blew out my candle!