Chez Panisse

I have one of the weirdest birthdays of the calendar year: New Year's Eve. It's in that holiday dead zone between Christmas and New Year's when people are traveling, sleeping, eating, and watching football. Still, I always look forward to this day not because I'm another year older or there are so many festivities and parties, but because it's one day of the year that I get to choose a nice restaurant for a gastronomic feast with my husband. It doesn't matter if it's expensive, trendy, prix fixe, has tiny portions, needs a month-in-advance reservation, or requires driving over an hour. It's my birthday, and we'll dine there if I want to.

For my birthday in 2009 to close out the decade, I made reservations at a renowned Bay Area restaurant we'd never been to before, Chez Panisse. All you foodies out there know about Alice Waters and her pioneering quest to combine environmental harmony and delicious flavor. Would the restaurant live up to the hype and the legend? We drove out to Berkeley's Gourmet Ghetto to find out for ourselves.

Knowing we ran a risk entering Bear territory with my Stanford Alumni license plate holder (at least we weren't wearing red), we obeyed all traffic laws and paid the parking meter like good citizens. Only we soon discovered that this wasn't really the Berkeley way. We noticed several people sitting on the grassy median eating their pizza slices from the Cheeseboard restaurant right next to big signs stating 'Keep Off Median'.  Apparently civil disobedience is the name of the game in Berkeley territory, and we Cardinals had some lessons to learn.

We showed up on time for our lunch reservation, and eagerly walked up the steps to the restaurant entrance. We had reservations at the more casual, a la cart Cafe upstairs, which I knew would suit us better than the fancier and more expensive prix fixe dinners offered in the restaurant on the ground floor.  We had a nice carafe of still filtered tap water and some fresh bread with rich yummy butter to eat while we waited for our food.

I ordered and thoroughly enjoyed the following dishes:

- Salad of beets and cauliflower with a ginger and preserved lemon dressing. I'm a big beet lover although I never make them myself. The vibrant purple beet nuggets felt firm to the tongue with a fabulous sweet/spicy/sour taste when combined with the ginger and lemon. The cauliflower florets were like no other I'd ever had, small and tender, white and green, probably grown nearby and a beautiful example of fractal shapes found in edible nature.

- Homemade orecchiette pasta with mushrooms, sage, and pecorino cheese. I love any kind of homemade pasta. I love any kind of mushrooms. I love sage and cheese combined with mushrooms and pasta. While the flavors of this dish weren't as revelatory to me as the salad's, I savored every bite. The pasta was so tender yet had enough al dente to each bite. I love, love, love mushrooms, so earthy and savory, tender and bursting with juicy umami goodness. The sage and pecorino cheese perfectly highlighted and brightened the other two ingredients. I ate every morsel happily, with a smile on my lips.

- Apple and sour cherry tart a la mode. This was one of those to-die-for fruit desserts made all that much better by the perfect blend of tart apple, sour cherry, and buttery pastry flavors. Of course vanilla ice cream provided the perfect harmonious complement to the fruit tart, not only for its creamy melting texture but also for its rich, milky flavor and icy coldness. To me, this was dessert perfected.

- Blue Bottle coffee. One of the best coffees ever, and locally roasted to boot (see previous post called Yin-Yang Refreshment for more about Blue Bottle).

Brad ordered the cannellini bean soup, and a whole haddock with potatoes and coleslaw. He ate everything quickly and without speaking, a sure sign of his gastronomic enjoyment. His other telling signs included nodding up and down while chewing, tilting the soup bowl to get the last drop, and protesting when I moved the tart plate closer to me so that I could reach our shared dessert more easily. (Hey, it was my birthday, after all!)

So did Chez Panisse meet my high birthday expectations and culinary anticipation? Yes, it did. Every bite tasted divine. Each dish made its main ingredient the star, was simple and fresh, beautiful and natural, made with tender loving care. I'll remember it as a wonderfully satisfying and lovely meal, and a delightful place to try for the first time on my birthday. I wonder where we'll go next year?

Sublime Suraj Indian Cuisine

 

More than any other ethnic cuisine, Indian food transports me to a faraway place and time with its intoxicating blend of spices, textures, and sauces. My husband and youngest daughter don't like Indian food much, but one night when they were both gone I took our other two children out to Suraj Restaurant in Redwood City. Suraj was recommended to me by good friend and neighbor Kiki Kapany, whose parents originally lived in India before making their way to the U.S. and raising their family in Woodside. For her, Suraj is the go-to place when she wants some Indian comfort food. That says a lot.  Her dad Narinder Kapany is widely known as the father of fiber optics, and he too enjoys Suraj. 

On the outside the restaurant doesn't look like much, and its location on busy El Camino Real across from Target is a far cry from a more hip or sophisticated area. But the food tells the story, and we were not disappointed. We started out with vegetable samosas, a good standard Indian appetizer to whet the appetite and tantalize the taste buds. Then the main courses arrived all at once like presents on Christmas morning, and we enthusiastically dove in. The aloo gobi vegetarian dish, with its tender cauliflower and potatoes melded with a hypnotic spicy sauce, elevates ordinary vegetables to a state of sublime. Cauliflower never tasted so good. My thirteen-year-old daughter Valerie said that was her favorite dish, along with the fragrant garlic naan, a chewy accompaniment to our meal, perfect for sopping up all the sauce left on our plates (bad breath be damned).

My favorite Indian dish has always been the mutter paneer, peas and soft homemade cheese cubes swimming in a heavenly, silky sauce.  Not only does it light fireworks in my mouth, it also tingles going down, leaving a warm glow in my stomach and tears in my eyes. It wouldn't be hard to Google the ingredients, but somehow I like leaving its secret blend a mystery so I can experience it in an instinctual right-brain way instead of analyzing it with left-brain precision. We also enjoyed the curry chicken, with its mild sauce and oh-so tender, fall-apart pieces of meat. The kids ordered sweet and cooling mango lassi drinks, a nice way to offset the hot spices of the food but too sweet for my taste (and I do have serious a sweet tooth).

Eating this meal made it hard not to moan with pleasure at every bite, and I know I would have if we'd been eating privately at home. It's worth trying if you're a fan of Indian food, or even if you consider yourself a novice. Try something new and bring some companions to share the experience. Eat sparingly during that day before your meal so that you can savor and enjoy the flavors as much as possible. For me this brings out the brilliant combination of flavors, creating a more memorable and satisfying meal. The day-long anticipation heightens the satisfaction experienced when eating it (this has been proven through fMRI research done by a professor at the Stanford Business School!).

The restaurant's website lists the menu and addresses of its two locations in Redwood City and Milpitas.  But you'll have to go inside to read the back of the menu to discover the various benefits of different spices used there. Did you know coriander not only boasts fantastic flavor but also can be used as an aphrodisiac? Maybe those hidden qualities, along with the evident talent of the cooks, infuse the secret sauce that makes eating at Suraj so memorably mouthwatering.

Neiman's Cafe

Neiman Marcus has always held a special allure to me. I grew up knowing about it because of the Neiman relatives on my dad's side of the family (see 'Bagels from My Bubba' for that story). Since we didn't have a Neiman Marcus in Riverside where I grew up, it remained remote and intangible in my mind. But ever since moving to the Bay Area I've been able to understand this part of my family's history a bit better by going to the Neiman Marcus store at the nearby Stanford Shopping Center.

Neiman Marcus was co-founded over a hundred years ago by my grandfather Arnold Neiman's uncle, named Abraham Lincoln Neiman.  Known as Al, he started up 'the store' with his wife, Carrie Marcus. Needless to say, the store grew into a huge retail success from its humble Dallas beginnings. Sadly, Al Neiman died penniless and without family, his only possession a cuff link in an old cigar box.

Recently my husband and I had lunch at the Neiman Marcus Cafe on the third floor of the store at the Stanford Shopping Center. Tucked away from the perfume-scented first floor and racks of designer clothing on the second floor, the cafe offers a quiet, refined refuge from the hustle and bustle below. Mostly a place for ladies who lunch, the cafe features sit-down service with a traditional, tasteful menu. Their signature appetizers arrived quickly, light-as-air popovers with sweet strawberry butter, along with a little cup of chicken consomme.

I ordered a salad plate with Mandarin orange souffle, chicken almond salad, fruit cup, and banana bread muffin with poppy seed dressing. It made for a flavorful and satisfying combination of textures and flavors, and the poppy seed dressing tasted surprisingly good with the fruit salad. I ordered coffee for my beverage.

My husband ordered a more substantial lunch, a burger with the fixings (including bacon) and some wonderfully thin and crisp fries. We both felt sated, not too full and not wanting dessert.

On a separate lunch visit with my daughters, we all enjoyed our meals just as much. I had the Asian shrimp salad with edamame, Napa cabbage, cashews, and a delightful sesame ginger dressing, a winning combination of savory, crunchy, soft, sweet, and a bit of spiciness. It's one of those salads both nutritious and completely satisfying to the taste buds and stomach. My older daughter had split pea soup with a triple grilled cheese sandwich that she ate hungrily. My younger daughter ordered the chicken cheese sandwich with sweet potato fries, and ate it quickly with little comment, a sure sign that she enjoyed it.

As we descended from the cafe on the shiny escalator and emerged outside to the shopping center's open-air plaza, my husband and I left nourished, satisfied, and I a little wistful for the famous relative I never knew. I don't know if Al Neiman ever dined at a Neiman's Cafe, and if it left a sweet or bitter taste in his mouth, but I hope that he always felt proud of what he had helped to create.

While some in the food blogging community would object to copying a recipe word for word from another source, I present here in memory of Al Neiman a popover recipe from the cookbook 'Pure & Simple: An InCircle Cookbook from Neiman Marcus,' now out of print but available used on Amazon.

"Perfect Popovers
Contributed by Neiman Marcus customer Lana Poynor from La Jolla, CA

I remember, as a little girl, going to Neiman Marcus for lunch with my mother and loving the warm popovers they brought with the meal. They always make me think of Neimans and all the fun we have there!

3 eggs
1 cup milk
3 tablespoons oil
1 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat over to 400 degrees. Beat eggs, milk, and oil together. Sift flour and salt over the egg mixture and beat until smooth. Fill 6 popover cups 3/4 full. Bake 30 minutes; reduce heat to 325 degrees and bake 15 minutes. Makes 6. Serve with strawberry butter."

If It's Good Enough For The President, It's Good Enough For You

President Obama hosted his first official State Dinner at the White House on November 24, 2009.  The dinner honored His Excellency Dr. Manmohan Singh, Prime Minister of the Republic of India. The event is most well-known for the infamous Salahi couple who gate-crashed the party, but of course there was much more to the evening than the unusual security breach.

Even though the State Dinner was held at the White House, there is a Bay Area connection. One of the wines served at the event was produced by Modus Operandi Cellars winery based in Napa Valley. We received a lovely bottle of 2008 Sauvignon Blanc from my sister-in-law Cecille Taylor, who is an ophthalmologist in Sacramento. One of her patients is Robert Rogel, owner of the winery. Along with a bottle of the wine, Cecille sent us a copy of the State Dinner program. It includes some interesting facts:

- "The first State Dinner for a foreign head of state was held by President and Mrs. Ulysses S. Grant on December 12, 1874 for King David Kalakaua of Hawaii."
- The Obamas' first State Dinner was held under a tent on the South Lawn of the White House. The decor reflected a garden theme, with green and sustainable elements.
- Colors included apple green table linens and deep purple flower arrangements, paying homage to the state bird of India, the Indian Peacock.
- "Mrs. Obama worked with Guest Chef Marcus Samuelsson and the White House Executive Chef Cristeta Comerford and her team to create a menu that reflects the best of American cuisine, continues this White House's commitment to serving fresh, sustainable and regional food, and honors the culinary excellence and flavors that are present in Indian cuisine. Herbs and lettuces are harvested from the White House Kitchen Garden."
- Entertainment included performances by Jennifer Hudson, the National Symphony Orchestra with Marvin Hamlisch conducting, and the United States Marine Band.

My husband and I tried the Modus Operandi Sauvignon Blanc and quite enjoyed its light, slightly fruity taste. It went down easily with its crisp, clean flavor, and would go well with anything on the lighter side, including the salad and vegetables it was paired with for the State Dinner. Here is the delicious sounding menu from the event.

Dinner Menu:

Potato and Eggplant Salad
White House Arugula with Onion Seed Vinaigrette
2008 Sauvignon Blanc, Modus Operandi, Napa Valley, California

Red Lentil Soup with Fresh Cheese
2006 Riesling, Brooks 'Ara', Wilamette Valley, Oregon

Roasted Potato Dumplings with Tomato Chutney
Chick Peas and Okra

or

Green Curry Prawns
Caramelized Salsify with Smoked Collard Greens

and

Coconut Aged Basmati
2007 Granache, Beckmen Vineyards, Santa Ynez, California

Pumpkin Pie Tart
Pear Tatin
Whipped Cream and Caramel Sauce
Sparkling Chardonnay, Thibaut Janisson Brut, Monticello, Virginia

Petits Fours and Coffee
Cashew Brittle
Pecan Pralines
Passion Fruit and Vanilla Gelees
Chocolate-Dipped Fruit

I think a restaurant should replicate this menu and offer it as a special meal. I would be very interested in eating it and think many others would also be intrigued. As Cecille so succinctly put it when she sent us the wine, "If it's good enough for the President, it's good enough for you!"

Ishiyaki Bibimba

Repeat after me: ishiyaki bibimba, ishiyaki bibimba, ishiyaki bibimba. Once you've memorized this mantra and eaten this Japanese comfort food, you'll feel at peace and all will be right with the world.

In Juban Restaurant's verbiage, this dish is described as, "sizzling rice cooked in a clay bowl topped with seasoned vegetables, beef, and fried egg. Served with spicy chili pepper paste (gochujang)."  That straightforward description doesn't do this dish justice, however, and its modest looks don't convey its complex and enlightened flavor. To me, ishiyaki bibimba is a dish worth savoring for every last morsel of crispy rice, for every drop of the delectable chili pepper paste, for the combination of flavors in the rice, beef, spinach, bean sprouts, and bits of fried egg.  The egg comes served triumphantly on top of the dish, glistening, and then you or the waitress stir it into the rest of the magical concoction until it's thoroughly combined.

This dish is a perfect example of the savory umami flavor, one of the five basic tastes sensed by the human tongue.  Considered a fundamental taste in Asian cooking, umami is most commonly found in the flavors of beef, mushrooms, soy sauce, some cheeses, and miso. The variety of textures too makes this dish a delight: the crispy, soft rice combines nicely with the chewy bits of beef, firm spinach greens, slightly crunchy bean sprouts, and creamy egg. Every bite is different, every bite is divine. Be careful of the clay pot because it really is hot. If you let the dish rest for a while in it, then the rice on the bottom turns crispy and chewy, just the way I like it. It's usually a bit too much food for me, but my daughter always asks to share so no food is left over.

That's not all that Juban has to offer. It's a Japanese restaurant with a Korean BBQ flair, one with a grill built into the table so you get to cook most of the meal. We usually order beef short ribs, chicken, asparagus, and potatoes with butter to cook. Even the kids get in on the action, using the tongs to cook the meat to their liking. Juban also has delicious salads, especially the lettuce cucumber salad with miso dressing. They have a nice egg drop soup, and offer an assortment of mochi ice cream flavors including coffee, strawberry, green tea, and mango, although it's less expensive to buy the mochi ice cream at Trader Joe's. The service is always efficient and friendly, but you need to ask for forks if anyone in your group isn't adept enough with chopsticks. It's one of the rare restaurants where all five in our family leave happy and content. Give it a try, and remember the mantra: ishiyaki bibimba.

Brad's Hanukkah Latkes

We look forward to eating Brad's latkes every year. He usually only makes them once or twice during Hanukkah, so it's a special meal we all love. All five of us agree that of all the many ways to cook and eat potatoes, latkes top our list.

We've been using a recipe originally from the New York Times, but I can't trace down the recipe online. I copied it onto a recipe card that's now spattered with grease stains and has been photocopied a few times. Brad's modified it over the years with some of his steps for making and handling the mixture, but it's still basically the classic latke recipe enjoyed by us for over ten years and by Jews and gentiles for centuries.

Best Latkes

2 medium russet potatoes
1/2 onion
1/4 cup flour
1 t salt
1 egg
vegetable oil

1. Peel and grate the potatoes by hand. Brad uses a hand grater to get bigger pieces of potato than if he used a Cuisinart. This way the texture ends up more like hash browns.
2. Grate the onions into the same bowl as the potatoes, alternating onions and potatoes so they're mixed up together. The acid in the onions stops the potatoes from turning brown.
3. Squeeze the water out of the grated mixture of potatoes and onions and pour into a glass measuring cup.  Wait about five minutes for the potato starch to sink to the bottom of the measuring cup.  Pour off the liquid on top and then add the starch back into the grated mixture. Mix together well. The starch creates a firmer body to the pancakes.
4. Add in flour, salt, and egg, mixing everything together in the bowl.
5. Heat vegetable oil (we use canola oil) in a saute pan on the stove on medium high heat.  Brad uses two pans at once to cook the latkes faster.
6. Carefully place scoops of mixture into the pan and press into a round shape. Brad uses a 1/4 cup measuring cup to scoop the mixture and makes his latkes about 3" in diameter. Fry on each side until a nice golden brown color.  Be sure to turn on the stove top fan.
7. Place cooked latkes in a single layer on a plate with paper towels to soak up the extra oil. Keep stacking paper towels in between layers of cooked latkes.

Brad tripled the recipe this year using six potatoes, which resulted in thirty-three latkes. We had six left over to enjoy the next day.  Serve with applesauce of your choosing.

These latkes truly deserve their place of honor at this festive holiday meal. Crisp and crunchy on the outside, soft and creamy on the inside, the flavor and scent of onion hovering just under the potato's earthiness, dipped in applesauce that brings a light sweetness, tartness, and pureed feel to the tongue. We don't speak much while eating, mostly making moaning and grunting noises, swiftly reaching for the next latke and scooping out more applesauce to put on top. Amanda eats hers with her hands, the rest of us use forks. The crispy morsels of crumbs on the plate get eaten too, too yummy to leave. How a humble potato can turn into this luscious latke exemplifies the transformational power of cooking, and reveals the miracle of the oil which we celebrate this time of year.

L'chaim!

The Dim Sum Meal

We walked almost a mile from the San Francisco Hyatt Regency to the Oriental Pearl restaurant in Chinatown where we had dim sum lunch reservations.  I was excited about the lunch because our kids hadn’t ever really had a proper dim sum meal despite my Chinese heritage. Rachael Ray had recommended this restaurant, so it had to be good.  Here we could have an authentic Chinese meal. We found the restaurant and walked up the stairs.

Everyone looked at the menu.  It included some set menus for those who didn't want to order a la carte.  One was called 'The Dim Sum' and another 'Dim Sum Deluxe.'

“How about The Dim Sum set option?” I asked Brad.  He nodded. 

The waiter came back to the table. “Have you decided what you want to order?” he asked Brad. Brad said “Yes, we’d like the dim sum meal.”  “Which dim sum meal?” asked the waiter.  “THE dim sum meal,” Brad said, laughing. He pointed to the menu and the waiter nodded. Brad said, “I’d also like the order the spicy beef stir fry.” The waiter took the menus and left.

Valerie asked, “Can I have some tea?”  I sighed and said, “Fine. Do you want some too, Jacob?”  Jacob nodded and said, "Okay." I poured hot tea for her, me, Brad, and Jacob. Amanda drank ice water.

The waitress came to the table and placed a little plate of vegetarian spring rolls down. We all ate one except for Amanda.  “Are you sure you don’t want one?” I asked Amanda. She said, “No, they're gross.” It made a crunching sound when we bit into it, with warm and flavorful vegetables inside.  “Are you sure?” I asked her.  She shook her head again.

Then the waitress brought some potstickers.  “These are Jacob’s favorite,” I said. Jacob enthusiastically ate three; the girls didn’t eat any.  Valerie said, “I don’t like potstickers.” Then the waitress brought shrimp dumplings. I told the kids, “You really should try one. They’re delicious!” Jacob and Brad tried them but the girls didn’t eat any. I happily ate the leftovers, savoring the almost translucent white rice dough encasing the soft, sweet, pink shrimp flesh inside, like a beautiful noodle wrapper protecting a delicate treasure.

Then came the sui mai. “Kids, this is sui mai. It’s really good, a classic dim sum, with pork in it.”  Brad ate one and said, "It's okay, I guess." Jacob ate his up but the girls didn’t want one. I realized Amanda, the smallest and sternest of our group, was going to be starving if she didn’t eat anything and asked the waitress for a bowl of plain steamed rice for her, along with a fork.

Brad said, “I’m not really that into the dim sum. I’m glad I ordered the beef stir-fry.”   I grumbled under my breath, annoyed at his complaining. Next came the BBQ pork bao.  “Kids, this is like a Chinese hamburger. You’ll like it, just try it.”  Valerie took a little nibble, made a face and said, "Eww!" Amanda shook her head and said, “I don’t like dim sum.”  She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, eyebrows furrowed.  I peeled the square piece of paper off the bottom of the bao and bit in. The pure white dough on the outside contrasted with the bright pink-red, sweet and savory chunks of pork on the inside. I probably could eat bao every day.

The flavors of the shrimp dumplings and the bao reminded me of big banquets in L.A. that I’d gone to when I was a kid. The big Young family on my mom's side celebrated special occasions like birthdays or anniversaries with these banquets.  Those meals could stretch out for hours and had more exotic dishes like shark fin soup, whole roasted pig, roasted duck, abalone, sticky butterfly pastries, and bird’s nest soup. It wasn't unusual to have ten or more courses at these meals. 

Amanda got her bowl of rice and shook some soy sauce on it. She started eating it with her fork. Then came the pyramid shaped taro in pastry, which I’d never had. It made a crunching sound when we bit into it. Valerie wrinkled her nose and said, “Ooh, it’s mushy inside. It tastes weird. What is taro?”  Brad said, “It’s a root that they eat a lot in Hawaii.” Amanda ate her steamed rice while we all took a few bites of the taro. I had to admit, this one was kind of strange with a purplish-gray color inside. Nobody ate all of theirs.

Then came some rice with mushrooms and Chinese sausage wrapped in a green lotus leaf. Amanda opened one up, at first intrigued by the idea, but then she smelled it and frowned, saying, “Mom, this looks really disgusting.”  Valerie agreed, “I’m not going to eat it either. It smells funny.”  Jacob, Brad, and I all gamely tried it and ate a few bites. She was right, it did smell funny and it was very sticky, almost gelatinous.  “This is Chinese sausage, you guys,” I explained in a wavering voice.

The last dish served was custard in pastry, more familiar looking and probably French inspired.  Valerie ate hers and said, “Mmm, it’s good. You should try it, Amanda.”  Amanda poked it and shook her head again.  The rest of us ate our custards. I ate the one Amanda didn’t eat. I’d stopped counting calories by this point.

The stir fry beef dish arrived with two big spoons for serving. Brad put some onto his plate and ate it quickly.   Jacob, Valerie and I ate some too. Amanda shook her head no.  Brad polished off the rest and said, “I’m sure glad I ordered that beef. It was good.” I had to admit that it was better than the dim sum.

I felt disappointed that the food wasn’t better and that the kids didn’t appreciate it. I know Anthony Bourdain would say my first mistake was listening to Rachael Ray. I had expected too much of the meal, not only a gastronomic feast, but that the kids would somehow feel connected to their Chinese culture. I failed at both of these objectives, but at least they got to try and taste new things and it added to our Chinatown adventure. We’ve even joked since then about THE dim sum meal.