Go ask Alice: Eater spotted a from-across-the-pond profile of Alice Waters from Elfreda Pownall at Telegraph.co.uk. Of course, "Elfreda Pownall" is one of those Anglo-queeny drag tags, like Dame Edna Everage or Susan Boyle (we kid, we kid: of course Ms. Pownall is real). Still, drag queen though she isn't, the author does swing a bit pervy when it comes to the toke-and-grope scene that was Chez Panisse in the early 1970s. Like this:
At first laid-back hippydom prevailed at Chez Panisse. Most decisions were collective, staff took time off to 'find' themselves and waiters would occasionally take a toke on a joint in the kitchen, exhaling as they walked through the dining-room's swing door (though in those days many of the customers were in their own drug haze, too). Chez Panisse was a small inward-looking group of friends; there were lots of parties and celebrations, lots of wonderful food and lots of sex.We've been there before, of course, thanks to the very angry Thomas McNamee's 2007 bio of Alice. And, sorry Ms. Pownall, but some of your wording bears a strong resemblance to Mr. McNamee's (Alice Waters and Chez Panisse, hardcover edition, page 54):
It was quite unremarkable for a waiter lofting a tray to suck back a last-minute toke before plunging through the swinging door to the dining room, exhaling as he plunged. It was hardly remarkable to the customers either, many of whom had arrived already ripped to the gills themselves.Oh dear.
Where are the city's best places to get rustic? Find out after the jump.
In the hierarchy of Halloween candy, there's the obvious wins, like full-sized
candy bars or Reese's peanut butter cups. There are the obvious fails like toothbrushes, pennies, and the homemade cookies that are probably delicious but that your parents will inevitably throw out for fear your next-door neighbor is a child-hating poisoner. And then there's the candy you're always excited about finding within the confines of your pillowcase, even though it actually, when you think about it, doesn't taste that great.
1. Pixy Stix
for dippin'. They were good -- not transcendent or anything -- but good enough for the moment (and, we suspect, plenty of moments to come).
What it proved most to us is that if we can dream it, the carts will eventually come. What should be next?
Chang was supposed to appear at S.F.'s E&O Trading Co for an Asia Society food series event celebrating New Asian cooking. "This was going to be the next big thing in this series," he said. "I was really excited about it." But Bullock said he received a note from an S.F. chef participating in the dinner (Bullock declined to name him at the chef's request) he preferred not to mention, indicating a refusal to appear with Chang. "The note said, 'I just can't do this, this is now personal,'" Bullock said. "From my perspective I was stunned." Meanwhile, E&O had rescinded its invitation to host the dinner.
Bullock said going on with the Chang event -- despite the difficulties of scrambling for a new venue -- would have jeopardized Asia Society's relationship with local chefs. S.F. chefs slated to participate in the dinner were Alex Ong from Betelnut, E&O's Arnold Eric Wong and ex-Slanted Door pastry chef Mutsumi Tahara. Slanted Door owner Charles Phan had declined an invitation to appear at the event. Phan told SFoodie his decision was unrelated to Chang's remarks.
"This wasn't just a barstool conversation," Bullock said of Chang's remarks. "It was for the public record, in front of hundreds of people. I understand bad boy talk, but you can't do that in public." The S.F. appearance was expected to be the kickoff for Chang's book tour. Momofuku (Potter, $40) -- the chef's first book -- is set for release Oct. 27.
Bullock said he contacted Chang's representatives to tell them the event had been canceled, but hadn't heard from Chang directly (Bullock believes he's traveling in Spain and unreachable by email). "Personally, I think if he were to come out with an apology, and said, 'I was drunk, I was stupid, I never should have said that,' maybe we could do something with him again in the future. Maybe for the paperback release."
Alas, once we entered the Macy's sixth floor space (reachable after store hours via a dedicated elevator) -- despite its Keller pedigree, the infamous $60 foie-gras- and truffle-slathered Rossini, its extensive beer and abbreviated wine list -- it was eminently clear that this is, after all, a chain restaurant, with all that that implies: beer-sign décor, annoying techno, mini TVs in the booths, T-shirts and mugs for sale, and indifferent service.
The rather overwhelming, eight-page oversize menu offers a choice of four basic meats (Black Angus, $9.75; sustainably farmed Country Natural, $10.50; and American Kobe beef and buffalo, both $16.50) and four non-meat patties (veggie, salmon, and turkey, all $8.50; and chicken breast, $9.25), served in six different buns, with tomatoes, onions, lettuce, and dill pickles.Special orders not only don't upset Burger Bar, the kitchen apparently craves them. There's a list of more than 50 add-ons for customizing your burger, ranging from the expected (cheeses and bacons) to the less so (asparagus, pineapple, and pesto) to the downright unexpected (black Perigord truffle sauce, grilled half-lobster, and black truffles -- the latter a whopping $30).
first café, they're also expecting their first
child next month.
Owner James Freeman told SFoodie the new kitchen should allow company culinary director Bryan Waites to expand Blue Bottle's food offerings, as well as do certain things in house -- like roasting turkey breasts for sandwiches. (Freeman's wife, Caitlin, will use the new kitchen to produce pastries for Blue Bottles, including the dessert café at SFMOMA.)
But the most exciting new food development might come in a few weeks, when Freeman hopes to unveil Blue Bottle's Bookmaker's Sandwich, inspired by Belgian truck drivers' food. "You take a crusty sweet loaf, cut it in half, put in your filling, and crank it down in this bookmaker's press," Freeman explained. After half an hour, what you get is something dense and compact, Freeman said, not quite like a panino. "It's surprisingly heavy," Freeman said, which is why Belgian truckdrivers took to it: They could pack multiple days of nourishment into a few hefty sandwiches. "It becomes like this mono-textured sandwich that's like astronaut food or something."
Experiments have gone on at Freeman's house with a 50-pound letterpress -- he called it a small one. Among the fillings so far: Prather Ranch steak, and a shiitake mushroom blend. Expect to see the first few experiments for sale in the next few weeks.
John Birdsall contributed to this post.
Ironically, at Michael Mina's RN74 in the Millenium Tower down on Mission Street (301 Mission at Beale), the iconic hamburger is not something pretty much anyone can enjoy. If you want to munch on this restaurant's luxurious rendition of the standard -- a rich grind of rib eye and brisket, topped with Burgundian mustard and sandwiched between halves of a brioche roll -- you'll need to fork over nine times what you pay at In-N-Out -- and own one of the building's multi-million-dollar condos.
As quoted in Grub Street late last week, Mina's weird, grammatically iffy rationale for excluding non-owners from hamburger heaven ("We really have a restaurant concept that we want to keep the way it is.") strikes us as completely silly. Restaurants often prepare a signature dish on the sly. However, they don't usually keep most of their customers from ordering it. How does this aspect of RN74's "restaurant concept" affect the dining experience? Are non-owners bummed they can't tuck in their ties, terrorize some herb fries, and attack a burger that most assuredly delivers on the promise of its pedigree? Do they despair, even as they order delicious-sounding yet less exclusive dishes like pumpkin soup with bacon-rosemary dumplings, and juniper oil and prime beef carpaccio? Do proud owners gloat as they douse their buns in ketchup? If an owner dines with a non-owner, might the non-owner, under the circumstances, have a burger? Does anyone really care, especially when the San Francisco outpost of Hubert Keller's Burger Bar opened Friday?
