Tommy's Mexican Restaurant

photo - Yelp, Frederick D.

Tommy's Mexican Restaurant, Dinner, Outer Richmond
June 17, 2016

P:
Enchiladas Suizas (with chicken), served with salad, beans and rice
Milagro margaritas, with salt

J:
Pollo Pibil, served with salad, beans and rice
Milagro magaritas, with salt


Notes:
Tommy's is close to my heart.  When I first lived in this neighborhood way back when, my friend and I would meet here on Friday nights after work and sit at the bar for hours, drinking margaritas and eating chips and salsa.  I brought my Dad here when he visited (he likes a good margarita).  Julio, the gentleman who runs (and maybe owns?) the place, knows his regular customers by name and thanks them for coming, every time.  The bar is always packed with Tequila aficionados and locals alike.  Patrick and I live practically right around the corner, and it's a place we're just in the mood for sometimes.

Tommy's takes margaritas (and tequila, generally) very seriously.  They're prepared on the rocks (though they'll make 'em frozen, if you insist), as this is the best way to taste the nuances in the tequila.  Giant bins of half cut fresh limes sit on the bar, waiting to be squeezed into every glass.  And you'll find no sweet and sour here, only agave syrup.  Tequila, lime and agave syrup, that's all; they make a fantastic margarita.

The food is okay.  It's not the best Mexican food you'll ever have, but it definitely satisfies a craving.  I find their chips and red and green salsas addicting, though some might argue their salsas are not much more than just spicy.  They serve a little salad before the meal consisting of whacked up iceberg lettuce, a couple of slices of carrot and radish, topped with a splash of red salsa.  Gourmet, no, but delicious, yes; I love that simple little salad.  Their guacamole is pretty tasty and generously portioned.  Patrick usually gets the Enchiladas Suizas, which hits the spot for him.  I don't have a usual, but often go with a chicken quesadilla.  On this particular evening I went rogue and ordered the Pollo Pibil, chicken breast and onion marinated in savory achiote (think earthy red pepper), wrapped in a banana leaf and grilled.  The chicken was completely overcooked, but the smokey flavors imparted by the charred banana leaf were really fantastic with that marinade.  Although, I'd probably go back to the quesadilla next time - it goes better with a margarita.


As they say at Tommy's: "If you live in SF, please do not forget to remember how lucky you are."

Pizzetta 211

photo - Yelp, Nat L.

Pizzetta 211, Dinner, Outer Richmond
May 9, 2016

P&J:
Sesame Crusted Seared Tuna with Charred Radicchio and Lemon Caper Aioli
Pizzettas: Rosemary, Fiore Sardo Cheese, Pine Nuts; Farm Fresh Egg, Asparagus, Almond Picada, Creme Fraiche: Housemade Sausage, Broccoli di Ciccio, and Chile*
Flourless Chocolate Cake with Fresh Whipped Cream
Buttermilk Panna Cotta with Blueberry Sauce


Notes:
This is probably one of my absolute favorite spots in our neighborhood.  I adore this place.  ADORE!  It's a tiny spot with roughly 20 seats, a few of them at the worn wooden bar that overlooks the even tinier kitchen.  The servers are casual and adequately friendly (though bordering on taking themselves too seriously), but they clearly care about what they do, and that makes me smile.  The wine is served in glass tumblers, which I love for some reason.  And the pizzas (pizzettas) are perfection.

We have never sat anywhere but at the bar.  They're the best seats in the house, in our opinion, and oddly the least desirable, because requesting seats at the bar always gets us in sooner rather than later.  (This also gets us the relatively undivided attention of one of the cooks in that tiny little kitchen, which is a big plus.)  They always have a "special" starter, always a salad in our experience, and always amazing.  This evening it was a seared tuna appetizer, which is pretty 90's of them and almost a turn off for me, but in light of "always amazing", we had to give it a try.  The tuna was perfectly cooked, the delicately crunchy seeds on the surface were nicely toasted and complemented the flavor of the supple fish.  Generous drizzles of lemon caper aioli and the deeply charred, tender greens brought everything together into a harmony of flavors and textures.  Yep; amazing.  We polished the dish off in about 3 minutes.  Classy.

Next were the pizzettas.  They always have a pizza with egg on the menu, a must have, in my view.  If you've never had anything like this before, I implore you, seek it out.  Here, during its last few minutes in the oven, two raw eggs are slipped onto the surface of the pizza, in this case topped with a drizzle of creme fraiche, asparagus coins, crushed almonds and mozzarella.  Moments later, the pizza emerges light golden brown and topped with two perfectly cooked, sunny-side-up eggs.  It's cut in such a way so as to maintain the integrity of the yolk, which is promptly wrecked once it hits the table, with the pieces of pizza flanking the yolk used for dipping.  It's a fabulous and satisfying experience.  The second pizza was the broccoli di ciccio and sausage.  This was quite delicious.  Let me just go on about broccoli di ciccio for a moment.  I absolutely LOVE this vegetable.  Apparently, it's an heirloom broccoli, the ancestor to the giant heads of broccoli we're all familiar with.  Except it's all thin, tender stems and leaves with little florets at the tip of each stem.  And it has more sweet, delicious broccoli flavor than any broccoli I've ever had.  It's one of my favorite things.  I'd never had it before living here, and I've only had it a few times since, when I'm lucky enough to find it.  But, back to the pizza.  So, our second pizza had pieces of this broccoli di ciccio,  a little smattering of fresh Italian sausage and some red chili flake.  Delicious!  (I know, I said that already.)  These flavors really work together - meaty, juicy bits of sausage with sweet, earthy broccoli and a little heat from the chile flake.  Yes, please.  Finally, we had the pizza with Fiore Sardo cheese, rosemary and pine nuts.  This was good, but not my favorite.  The sheep milk's cheese had a nice flavor, but didn't melt nicely - it took on that oily and rubbery state that some cheeses do when melted.  And while the pine nuts and rosemary were a nice compliment to the tangy, salty cheese, the overall texture was less enjoyable, though I'll admit, it was still satisfying in a comfort-food kinda way.  I need to comment on the fact that none of the pizzas we ordered had tomato sauce, which ordinarily is a strike in my book.  To me, pizza is not pizza unless it has tomato sauce.  (White pizza?  Nope, it's good, but it's not pizza.)  Except here - here I don't care.  I never miss it.

Sitting at the bar equals sitting by the dessert.  Invariably, there is a cake stand on the bar holding their flourless chocolate cake.  Chocolaty and rich, but not too rich, and it's served with barely-sweetened, barely-whipped cream.  It's a must, especially after you've been staring at it all night.  Their second dessert is usually something with fruit.  On this particular night it was buttermilk panna cotta with blueberry sauce.  Panna cotta is a dairy-based dessert to which gelatin has been added; it has the texture of a custard, but without the egg.  Now, buttermilk panna cotta is especially good because that tang really lightens things up, and when accompanied by a lovely fresh fruit sauce, it's almost like eating health food.  So of course, we had that too.


Did I tell you I adore this place?  We don't come here every weekend only because there are so many other places around town to try, but we go as often as we can.


*We recently had a couple of friends in town; new friends to Patrick, old friends to me.  This is the last restaurant we visited with one of them before his return to the Deep South, and the last we visited among no less than a dozen within the 5 days before that.  I got a little behind in my writing, as you might imagine, and I can't remember exactly every last detail of what was on those pizzas and the menu at Pizzetta 211 has since changed.  [Sad face.]

Bill's Place

Photo by Patrick

Bill's Place, Lunch, Outer Richmond
April 30, 2016

P&J:
We each ordered: Paul Kantner Burger - named for the world renowned rock guitarist - an American cheeseburger with grilled onions and thousand island dressing, with fries
Chocolate Malt to split


Notes:
Bill's Place is another neighborhood haunt, and not to be confused with Bill's Cafe, which we visited last weekend in San Jose.  (As an aside, if you consider that Bill is a common nickname of William, and William is "statistically the 6th most popular first name" in the US, it should be no surprise that at least two different Bills have restaurants, and we visited them both within a week's time.  But I digress.)

This is one of two places we generally go to in our 'hood for a burger.  Bill's burger isn't the best burger you'll ever have, but it's just a good, solid burger, and it definitely satisfies a craving.  The beef is fresh ground, the 1/3 pound patties are always cooked to order (meaning, when I order medium rare, I get medium rare), the soft sesame seed buns are your average, delightfully squishy store-bought, and the "burger set" (leaf lettuce, sliced tomato, sliced pickle) isn't fresh off the farm, but it's fresh.  I'll keep going: the American cheese is properly melted over the burger, the grilled onions are well caramelized, the thousand island dressing seems to be made in house.  These are all good things; like I said, a solid burger.

Now, the fries.  The fries are fresh cut.  This can be a bad thing according to some, and that would be the case here.  They don't do what you need to do to make them crispy and delicious.*  Lots of people give fresh fries a pass because they're fresh, and therefore inherently better.  I disagree entirely.  That said, with enough salt, I love all fries.  Even the soggy, sometimes styro-foamy, single-fried, fresh version at Bills.  I mean, potatoes!  They're the best, I said the best!  (Shout out to Philly Boy Jay.) Okay, yeah, but you don't come here for the fries.

But you do come here for the malts!  They make good, old-fashioned chocolate malts, complete with with whipped cream and a cherry on top, not to mention the side car of extra malted that wouldn't fit in the glass.  This might be one of the my favorites things about Bill's Place.


*There is great debate over what makes a superior fry.  These days, "fresh" is in important thing to many people, myself included.  BUT, I personally don't think "fresh" always wins; take frozen french fries (for purposes of this discussion, I am not talking about the frozen brands that add things to "improve" texture and flavor). If you've ever had those perfectly cut fries with that evenly crisp, golden exterior to which salt easily clings, and a piping hot, fluffy potato-y interior, then I assure you, you've had frozen fries.  (And I bet you liked them.)  Consider this: "Frozen French Fried Potatoes" (as the USDA calls them) start with fresh potatoes that are washed, sorted, peeled (maybe), and cut to uniform size.  The cut potatoes are sorted for defects, soaked and then blanched in water to stop enzyme activity for more consistent color, flavor and texture.  Next, the potatoes are briefly fried before being frozen and packed.  By the time you have them, they've been fried once more.  If you look at all the recipes for french fries, you'll notice they employ many of the same steps, most importantly the twice-fried bit.  The difference is, with the frozen ones someone else did the work for you, and it's a ton of work.  Delicious, well-executed, fresh fries do exist, but if it doesn't say hand-cut or fresh-cut or the like on the menu, you're probably enjoying the frozen variety.  Even at that fancy-pants bistro.  And there's not a thing wrong with that.

India Clay Oven

Photo by Patrick

India Clay Oven, Dinner, Outer Richmond
April 27, 2016

P&J:
Mattar Paneer - green peas and homemade cheese cooked with spicy gravy
Vegetable Korma - fresh-cut vegetables, cooked in creamy sauce with almonds, nuts and raisins
Chicken Tikka Masala - clay oven roasted chicken in spicy sauce
Raita - homemade yogurt with carrot and spices


Notes:
Here we are at another neighborhood spot.  It's a pretty sizable space, but almost always empty when we walk by.  I generally think of that sort of thing as a sign (and avoid), but we wanted Indian food, dammit!

So, I have a thing I always order (Mattar Paneer) and Patrick has a thing that he always orders (Chicken Tikka Masala).  We rounded the meal out with the Vegetable Korma, an unexpected favorite of Patrick's but something I hadn't tried before, and the Raita, a yogurt condiment of sorts that I consider a requirement with Indian food.

I'm going to get ahead of things and say that we don't know what good Indian food should be.  I say that because I'm pretty sure we've had good Indian food, and I'm pretty sure we've had much better Indian food than this, but I'm also pretty sure we didn't think the food here was that bad.

Sure, the tandoori chicken in the tikka masala was cooked to death, but we don't know much better, and Patrick enjoyed the sauce with his naan.  The paneer was rubbery, but not uncommonly so in my experience, though I can say with certainty the sauce was much less flavorful than I've had at other restaurants.  The korma tasted of over-reduced cream, but we still ate most of it.  And, the raita was too thin and not very flavorful, but it provided the cool tang I love so much.

Then again, I haven't yet mentioned the off-putting aroma of pine-scented cleaning products wafting throughout the restaurant.  And yes, afterwards (unfortunately) we learned of their low scores with the Health Department (which may have explained the pine products).  And no, I didn't want to eat the leftovers once I this found out, even though I was happy enough to take them home in the first place.


I guess all I can say is that this experience has inspired me to find good Indian food in the Bay Area, because I really do love the cuisine, and I know it's out there, somewhere.

Luna Rossa

Luna Rossa, Outer Richmond, Dinner
March 26, 2016

P:
SPINACI, spinach potato dumplings, creamy tomato sauce
CHOCOLATE MOUSSE

J:
MELANZANE, grilled eggplant, house dressing
PAPPARDELLE, house made, chicken, prosciutto, mushrooms, tomato sauce


Notes:
After a full day of modern breakfasts, milk teas, and laundry, we were hungry (how?!) and decided to (finally!) try out Luna Rossa, one of the many neighborhood Italian restaurants situated within walking distance from our apartment.  We hadn't heard anything about this place, it was only ever in our minds when we'd pass by; the blacker-than-black exterior in stark contrast the once weathered peach paint of its well-loved predecessor, Mescolanza.  (More on that at the end.)

The restaurant is small and the clientele regular, or so it seemed; there was an air of familiarity between the guests and the staff.  Having not yet earned this distinction ourselves, we instead detected a scoff or two.  It didn't really matter, though, I suppose we weren't expecting much.

The bread was a nice crusty sourdough; the soft, salty butter wrapped in gold foil.  The wine, poured nearly to the rim of the glass, was decent.  The grilled eggplant looked promisingly simple: 1/4" thick slices of fresh eggplant were lightly grilled and brushed with an herb-y dressing.  Unfortunately, it was also exceedingly bitter and under-seasoned.  Not something I would order again.

The pasta and gnocchi turned out better than expected.  Patrick's spinach gnocchi were damn good, arguably not perfect for reasons I can't pinpoint, but not too far from it.  The creamy tomato sauce was just that, deliciously uncomplicated and not at all heavy.  It was an outstanding dish (the server did tell us "best in the city," but don't they all say that?).  The pappardelle (3/4" wide noodles of fresh pasta), was extraordinary.  The pasta itself had unbeatable flavor with a tender bite (a touch beyond al dente if I had to find any fault), each ribbon well coated by the rich tomato sauce.

Patrick wanted dessert, I wanted a bite.  He chose the chocolate mousse; we ordered a cappuccino (him) and an espresso (me).  The coffees were on the too-bitter side, Patrick's much more so than mine (curiously - the addition of milk should have tempered that bitterness).  The chocolate mousse turned out to be more of a chocolate mousse pie, as it had a crust and some ridiculous garnish characteristic of the pre-made pies and cakes some restaurants rely upon.  We were brought a complimentary glass of mediocre dessert wine after all was said and done.  We tried to wipe everything post-pasta from our memory.

If we return, and we probably will, we won't be messing around - we'll come here for the pasta (and gnocchi).

Just for fun:
I found this interesting tidbit on a local blog:

Mescolanza recently closed which saddened some fans, but a new, nearly identical concept called Luna Rossa opened in its place. It’s no accident – the owners of Luna Rossa were the original owners of Mescolanza back in the day and sold the lease, and the restaurant’s name, to an employee. But now they’re back, and after displacing their tenant, Mescolanza, have opened Luna Rossa.

"Displacing their tenant" sounds like a dick move, as it's called, but it also sounds like I've got HAY-mazing pasta dishes only blocks away from where I sleep.  Hmmm...perhaps a little pasta-off is in order with a future visit to Mescolanza in its new location?!  Yessss...

ilana Coffee

photo - Yelp, Nick A.

ilana Coffee, Outer Richmond, Breakfast

March 20, 2016

P:

Egg, Cheese & Ham Croissant Sandwich
Double Latte

J:
Double Latte


Notes:

This is through and through a neighborhood joint.  Nearly every seat, inside and out, seemed to be occupied by a regular on that drizzly Sunday morning.

I wasn't in the mood for anything, so I sat with my coffee, which was perfectly fine, while Patrick enjoyed his sandwich with the promise he'd share a little.  It was good breakfast sandwich, maybe better than I expected.

It's just a few blocks away, so we'll be back.  Next time, I'll try one of their Vietnamese Sandwiches.  I've read good things.

Cassava, and How it Started

We've been to so many places since Patrick and I met, nearly two years ago.  Many, if not most of them, special.  All worth remembering.  And after brunch at Cassava one beautiful Sunday afternoon, we decided this would be a nice way to do that.

We don't yet know what this is or what this will be, but here it is.

photo - cassavasf.com

Cassava, Outer Richmond, Brunch
February 21, 2016

P:
Meatballs in curry with rice + fried egg
beef & tofu meatballs, paneer, tomato cream curry gravy
Liége waffle

J:
Japanese breakfast
koshihikari rice, miso soup, pickled vegetables, wakame with mushroom, house cured market fish, soft shell-­poached egg in broth (natto available by request, which I did not)
Lemon verbena milk jam pot de crème


Notes:
The Japanese Breakfast made me impossibly happy. It was light and comforting at the same time. Little dishes of this and that; I was so excited I didn't know where to start. My first bite of rice was met with a surprise crunch of tiny salt crystals; almost startling at first (I didn't see them! And neither did Patrick, he was equally surprised.), but I was quick to appreciate their contribution (and so was he). The three small slices of lightly salt-cured fish sparkled like gems. The miso soup was full of sliced daikon and mushrooms, and the pickled veggies and wakame were an inspiration (seriously, I've decided I MUST learn how to make these things). But, the egg. That egg was amazing. The white, cooked somehow just enough to hold itself together, lazily surrounded a warm, jelled yolk. Hay-mazing.

I also had a pot of tea, which turned out to be a POT of tea. It was probably more suited to two, but it was a nice compliment. And, since I always insist on more(!), there was dessert. The pot de crème was lovely. Barely-there lemon verbena in a lightly set custard topped with little kisses of whipped cream and a few chocolate-covered rice crispies. Usually I would eschew toppings on my pot de crème (I have texture hang-ups, which you'll come to know and love), but this was altogether a nice little finish to the meal.

I would definitely like to return for the Japanese Breakfast. I'm hooked.

Patrick was perhaps not as enamored with the experience (this statement and all others to follow are likely to spark controversy). I sensed this and teased that I might need to bring myself here often and alone, as I would not ever wish to force him to endure something so terrible (I'm exaggerating, of course); this notion was immediately rejected.

He had two coffee drinks, because more(!). First was the honey spiced latte. Honey, I've been told, goes great with coffee, and here it provided just the right amount of sweetness. The spice was redolent of gingerbread, and though too just right, the very gingerbready-ness of the drink disappointed, it was not what he had in mind. For him, maybe worth another try sometime, with the honey but without the spice. The other coffee drink was something with "bourbon vanilla" and it actually tasted of bourbon (Patrick dislikes the taste of alcohol, generally). There was great debate over whether the bourbon was in fact bourbon, or if it was the Bourbon vanilla. Upon further investigation of Bourbon vanilla, I can say it's likely the former, but I'll leave it at that before this becomes a dissertation on Bourbon vanilla and coffee drinks.

 The meatballs arrived at the table in a screaming hot dish, curry bubbling up the side and crowned with a few leaves of arugula under a perfectly fried egg. It looked like something I wanted; I considered for a moment whether I had made the right choice. But Patrick shared, so crisis averted. The meatballs were tender and so juicy. The flavorful curry sauce was of the Indian persuasion, much to Patrick's surprise (not Japanese as he had thought/hoped - I think the paneer should have been a tip-off to the Indian flavors, but when you really want something, reason is sometimes not on your side). The egg topper kept the dish from cooling down, so it had to go (in his mouth). Ultimately, though, the temperature was a little off-putting - it was simply too hot to eat. That said, it was delicious once you could get into it.

The liége waffle, offered on the menu with eggs and bacon, or not on the menu as a stand-alone dessert as we had it, was the only thing I was disappointed in.  It was under-waffled (as in, not properly browned and undercooked) and since it contains pearl sugar (which *should* turn into little pockets of sweetness inside the waffle), it was not served with syrup.  Being served without syrup is no crime of course, but not a single bite I had contained any pearl sugar, and I kept trying in an effort to find it - the sweetness was sorely missed.  Sadly, this just wasn't what it should have been.  Whether Patrick liked or disliked this still remains a mystery.

Overall, Patrick wasn't unhappy with what he had, but he would try something else the next time we visit.

And there will be a next time.  (Hopefully.)

You likely won't see any food photos here, but I happened to stumble across this one from a local style blogger and had to share it.  This is almost exactly what we had for brunch (minus the desserts)...she's got great taste, wouldn't you say?!