Blowing smoke: Bay Area Bites' Andrew Simmons is ripped for a smackdown. He's blogged an earnest, sweaty argument for good barbecue, along the way bitch-slapping writers he considers terminally clueless (big ouch to Chron's Amanda Gold). But one particular aside smarts like a burn to the forearm: Sadly, like real bagels and perfect pizza slices, there's something about [barbecue] San Francisco doesn't quite get. Sorry, Andrew: Observe food-porn evidence from The Daily Feed (scroll down a bit), big-pixel proof that Pizzaiolo totally gets pizza. On second thought, maybe you meant to exempt Oakland from your hatin'?
Awwww: Just in time to remind us to buy one of those $10 cards that, when opened, plays a tinny version of James Brown's "I Feel Good," Food Gal conjures up a sweet Father's Day memory set in a Chinatown dive. And with crispy meat, no less. Nicely done.
Name: Andrew Freeman
Age: 47
Current gig: President, Andrew Freeman & Co. hospitality and restaurant consultants. Clients include the restaurant Poggio and the Westin St. Francis.
Past life: VP of public relations, Kimpton Hotel Group. "Before that, I'm a New Yorker -- I basically cut my teeth on marquee restaurants like the Russian Tea Room, the Rainbow Room, Windows on the World."
On coming out: "When I moved to San Francisco, it's like the world opened up, like something out of Milk. One of the most amazing things about coming out, is that what you've been carrying around as your problem suddenly becomes everyone else's problem. I love that."
On being out with clients: "There's varying levels of gayness, and you work with different clients with that. I have really bubbly personality -- there's a Will and Grace thing going on with women clients. The straight guys might roll their eyes, but they also know they're getting a certain level of style and creativity with me."
On his off time: "I have two Yorkie pups, Daisy and Tulip. I spend a lot of time with them. Oh, god, does that sound gay or what?"
Amuse Bouche often hawks mini muffins, chai, and apple tartlets from various Mission street venues. On Monday, he twittered this:
Come at Schmidt's (20th and Folsom, Mon-Fri 11am to 3pm) to taste my Bavarian style Apfelstrudel, Rhubarb tarts and Cinnamon stars.
We read. We headed straight for Muni. We tasted.
The strudel ($3) was charmingly home-style, a dense, layered slab of not-too-sweet. The flaky top layers crisped in a warming oven, and the tart apple slices were gooey with (total guess) vanilla-scented sour cream. The cold vanilla side sauce? Unbelievably perfumey. A rhubarb custard tartlet ($3) was a tad more subdued -- sweetened, nicely browned pastry with crunchy hunks of rhubarb and a sweet pouf of whipped cream. And the rustic star cookie skewed more citrusy than cinnamon, thanks to its brisk lemon glaze. All three nice. And as far as we could tell, nobody was at risk of being busted.
We try to spend as little time as possible under fluorescents, which is why we were heartened by news that a favorite (if ill-lit) pho place, Pho Clement, added a second location on Geary, sans harsh, flickering lights.
Even pho looks better in soft light. There are two dozen numbered combinations here (this is the medium-size #10, Nam Ve Don, well-done flank steak, $7.50), or you can customize with other meats. Besides the usual plate heaped with bean sprouts, Thai basil, sawtooth herb, chiles, and lime, you can amp things up via a forest of condiments: sriracha, hoisin, soy, chile oil, sesame oil, and vinegar.One legendary night in 1944 he whipped up a nightcap of rum, lime juice, curaçao, orgeat, shaved ice, and fresh mint and proffered it to a customer of Tahitian descent. The response was a happy cry of "mai tai-roa ae!" or, roughly translated "that's outta this world."
Nowadays every tiki bar worth its guava nectar serves a mai tai, many of them tarted up with maraschino cherries, but Le Colonial, located in the fronded recesses of an old Vic's outpost (20 Cosmo Alley at Post), shakes up a beautifully balanced, non-cloying rendition. If you ask for a mai tai at Hawaii West (729 Vallejo at Stockton) you'll either receive one of the city's finest or a blank stare, depending on the barkeep. Finally, although the Tonga Room (in the Fairmont Hotel, 950 Mason at California) makes its mai tai with triple sec instead of curaçao and fruit juice to boot, they do serve it in a coconut cup. Drink up: Due to close or relocate, the Tonga Room may soon find its thunder and lightning are outta this world forever. Literally.
The latest episode of the local online food program We Eating TV takes place in the hallowed hall known as Mitchell's Ice Cream (688 San Jose at 29th St.). The shop was recently remodeled and has added some brand-new flavors for summer, including Claire's Pie (coffee ice cream with fudge, almonds, chocolate chips, and graham crunch pieces) and Sweet and Salty Peanut (salted caramel ice cream with Spanish peanuts). In a conversation with owner Brian Mitchell, hosts Big Jon and Gus may have stumbled upon the reason for S.F.'s sizable Filipino community. Let's just say it might have something to do with macapuno ice cream.
Let's do lunch:
Okay, so maybe you didn't have a quirky English granny who crammed her cottage with gilt-edged bric-a-brac. Experience the next best thing, says SF Weekly food critic Meredith Brody, by tucking into the shepherd's pie at Lovejoy's Tea Room (1351 Church at Clipper, 648-5895).
Drink therapy:
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred m-i-i-i-nutes -- live out your Rent fantasies, girl, while getting hammered on a boho budget: Cop happy-hour drink specials at The Mint Karaoke Lounge (1942 Market at Duboce, 626-4726).
It's Thursday, final night of the week for Recession Selections: two wines for $6 a glass, or $27 for the bottle. Which wines? You never know until they show up -- kind of like the label-less cans at the Grocery Outlet, and just as much of a bargain. Bin 38 (3232 Scott at Lombard, 567-3838).
