Feast Blog

I usually don’t head towards the tourist traps in town and I have prided myself on steering clear of Fisherman’s Wharf whenever possible (except for the occasional Buena Vista Irish Coffee). But with the discovery of Crown and Crumpet in Ghirardelli Square, I may have to put up with the tourists for the occasional high tea.

Decidedly pink in its décor, Crown and Crumpet is not your typical frou-frou tea house. There are no Victorian lace doilies or too precious white tablecloths. I will grant an excess of chintz, but the atmosphere is fun and bright and inviting.

Lisa and I were charmed by the fact that along with the classic tea offerings, this establishment boasts an alcohol license, enabling them to serve sparkling wines as well as ports, Madeiras, and sherries. We started with splits of rosé Champagne and there was a definite desire to smuggle the deeply-etched Champagne flutes out in our purses.

Despite the inviting selection of savories on the menu (sausage rolls, welsh rarebit), we opted for the Tea for Two, enabling us to sample a larger selection of treats. Six different tea sandwiches included an open-face salmon, egg salad, potted shrimp, sundried tomato with goat cheese, cucumber, and herbed cheese. We both commented on the high quality of the bread and the ingredients in the sandwiches. Lisa has dined at more tea shops in San Francisco than I have and this was some of the best she had ever had.  The tea selection was several pages long with white tea, green teas, fruit teas, and more. We decided on an Assam and the Crown and Crumpet house-blend. The pots were large and we easily could have happily shared a single pot.

Served with butter, jam, clotted cream, and lemon curd were freshly-baked and still-warm scones and crumpets. I don’t ever remember an American tea shop offering fresh crumpets before and these were gobbled up immediately. Four scones were served; two with currants and two plain. About silver-dollar sized, at this point in our dining, we were getting full and we hadn’t even gotten to our sweets.

In the center of the sweets plate was a bowl of fresh berries (strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries). Surrounding the fruit were miniature cupcakes, brownie bites, lemon curd and blueberry tartlets, almond cookies, and chocolate chip cookies. Quite honestly, with the two ample pots of tea, most of the sweets and two of the scones were packed up and taken home with us.

Attached to the tea room is a shop laden with enticing tschotskes; books, edible treats, jewelry, and whatnot. In the back of the shop is a sitting area complete with digital fireplace, inviting for intimate parties. This was not quite the hoity-toity Neiman Marcus under the Rotunda which would demand the wearing of an Armani suit, but at $21 a person for that dual tea service, Crown and Crumpet is more affordable, relaxed, and inviting.

Sitting high above the Yerba Buena Gardens is a small restaurant, Samovar Tea Lounge. I discovered Samovar several years ago and often bring out-of-town guests there for a healthy, innovative lunch offerings. Back then, they were not open in the evenings but have now expanded their hours until early evening. It is warm and inviting with banquettes lined with exotic drapes and comfy pillows. Part of their advertisement is the idea of not rushing and early on, it proved difficult to get lunch ordered and eaten within an hour. Fortunately, they have improved that over the years.

Pictured here is Moorish Mint Tea; a complete lunch which included grilled Halloumi kebabs served on top of a mint salad. Alongside were three dolmas and and a handful of dried olives as well as two Medjool dates stuffed with chevre and topped with a pistachio-crusted walnut. This is one of two standard meals that I have become accustomed to; the Moorish platter mostly eaten when it is warm and sunny and one craves room temperature food that is flavorful and full of fresh, bright ingredients. When it is cold and blustery, I desperately crave the the Indian tofu curry platter with basmati rice and masala chai. Rich and satisfying and warm, it is a concoction I have often tried to recreate at home but I never seem to be able to get it as redolent with spices as they can create.

I can also heartily recommend the Japanese luncheon. In a round, ceramic bento box I was served a seaweed salad, two scoops of rice topped with various condiments, a triangle of seared yellowtale and two shrimp, and some marinated broccoli rabe. There was also a very delicate, subtle tea soup which had some unknown vegetables which were a bit on the soft side. Along with the lunch, I ordered the “upcharge” Matcha service ($5 on their website but $10 in the restaurant). There was a nut-crusted sweet (may have been mochi, but didn’t really taste like it) along with the Matcha and then a green tea-dusted brownie bite was served with the lunch as well.

The Chinese lunch starts with an amazing Oolong Tea coupled with a hot-pot of chicken, vegetables, rice, and a great gingery sauce. The second tier of the service is squash potstickers. The top tier had my dessert; a coconut rice pudding. With the  Russian lunch one is served a folded crepe (they called it a blini, but it was a crepe) filled with smoked trout and topped with capers, thinly sliced onions, and sour cream. You also got a selection of fresh fruit, a “Russian Tea Egg” which was a glorified Deviled egg topped with caviar, and two sweets, a bread pudding that was amazingly stunning — drizzled with a Bergamot honey and studded with dried tea and pistachios, and a single truffle made with smokey Russian tea. The classic, smokey tea had to be “self-serve” by walking to a stand that contained a classic Samovar from which he poured his tea.

Besides the innovative menu for dining, many who visit Samovar do so only for their extensive tea menu. While many are more enthralled with the perfectly brewed coffee, here it is all about tea; white, green, black, pu-erh, or herbal. And if a full meal is not desired, there are enough small bites of sweet treats, sandwiches, or salads which will satisfy any appetite.

54 Mint is a small, two-story Italian restaurant which lies within Mint Plaza (formerly known as Jessie Lane). I’ve only recently discovered Mint Plaza and surprisingly, have now eaten at all four establishments within its small confines all within a single week. I didn’t even realize 54 Mint was among the others (Thermidor, Chez Papa, and Blue Bottle Coffee) until it was recommended by a local art guru with whom I was chatting during an Enrico Donati retrospective. My escort and I were debating where to dine on a Saturday night without reservations and Kendy assured me that 54 Mint would be just the place.

We were fortunate to arrive at a prime time on Saturday night and be able to get a table immediately without a reservation. I learned later why… I admired the surroundings; gorgeous inset brick walls next to clean white painted brick, shanks of prosciutto and sausages hang carelessly from hand-forged wrought iron suspended above the bar, and warm wood tables complete an atmosphere of comfort. The high ceilings are not necessarily conducive to intimate conversation as the surrounding discussions became a bit pervasive. And I will grant that the waitstaff were exemplary in their appropriately accented cordiality. But we were here for food…

My friend and I started with two different antipasti starters, Carpaccio di Polipo – thinly sliced octopus carpaccio with shaved fennel, extra virgin olive oil, and smoked paprika dressing – and Frittura di Paranza, deep fried daily catch of calamari, smelt, and rock-shrimp with smoked paprika aïoli. Now this last description is what was written on the menu, however what arrived did not include any shrimp whatsoever, just the calamari and smelt. And I could detect no smoked paprika in the aïoli. While the calamari was fairly well-prepared and not rubbery, the smelt was slightly on the fishy side and a bit tough. I give great artistic points to the gorgeous presentation of the octopus carpaccio; so thinly sliced to be transparent. It was actually quite flavorful and was probably fresh, however it was obviously prepared well before service as the sliced cephalopod mostly stuck to the plate, something which should not have happened had it been freshly sliced and laid out.

For our mains, my companion opted for another antipasti, the Sardine alla Griglia, grilled sardines with olive oil toasted bread while I was anxious to try the pasta, Rigatoni alla Carbonara, short tubed pasta with local organic eggs, “guanciale,” black pepper, and parmigiano. Again, I question the freshness of the fish. The sardines were exceptionally mediocre. Not only were they less fresh, but the preparation of grilled with squares of bread was unenlightening and insidiously boring. Except, perhaps, if you are after some obsequious religious reference to fishes and loaves. The pasta was equally uninspiring; laden tubes with thick and pasty carbonara made only slightly interesting with the addition of the guanciale.

I am sorry my FOOD at 54 Mint wasn’t more memorable, because it has so much potential. The servers were fabulous and despite forgettable food, I had a very pleasant, memorable evening with a charming friend. But the conversation and camaraderie is what I will remember moreso than unexceptional cuisine. Lastly, a note: 54 Mint is located at 16 Mint Plaza (at Jessie St), San Francisco, CA 94103. Why it isn’t called 16 Mint escapes me. I don’t want to try and figure out where the name came from as I don’t particularly care to figure out why others are so enamored with this restaurant.

Several years ago, I had the delightful pleasure of meeting the Surrealist artist Enrico Donati (February 19, 1909 – April 25, 2008). I even acquired one of his abstract pieces. Donati was a contemporary of Duchamp and Breton, but continued creating artwork beyond his Surrealist training into a Constructivist phase in the 1940s and a Spatialism period. Working with surface and texture and combining color with media like dirt and soot, Donati finished his life with an expansive collection of work that is vibrant and tactile in its expanse and breadth. There are monstrously large pieces that are frightening black and gray, decrying depths of destruction and decay. And then there are gorgeously vibrant works of red and teal and orange, but juxtaposed with ground earth tones gravel with textures and shapes.

Walking by Weinstein Gallery on Union Square in San Francisco this gorgeous, sunny afternoon, I sauntered in and was taken aback by the expansive collection on display. I knew they were preparing for Centennial Retrospective, but I was not prepared for how expansive and impressive the entire collection was. Donati passed away shortly after my meeting and there were dozens of paintings which had been in his private collection and had not been seen which is now available, not only for public viewing but also for purchase (in the $25k to $300k range).

Wandering around the three floors of Donati pictures, I was surprised to be completely taken aback by one particular piece. Here I was – among dozens of paintings with shapes invoking urns and monoliths, boulders and conch shells – with a particular piece of two orange walls facing each other, one orange wall with a window, cradling a suspended boulder shape and opposite that, a larger wall with a perpendicular post providing stability and strength. An endless gray sky provides the infinite space behind the stalwart monoliths and a glow below the edifices reflect the magnitude above. What was it about this piece that struck me? I didn’t know, but I sat for nearly 15 minutes, enraptured. I mentioned as such to Travis, who helped me with my acquisition several years ago, and he enlightened me. Take a look at this Max Ernst painting, created two years into the Surrealist movement about when Donati would have met with that brethren.

Donati’s Dialogue of Carcassonne II, 1978	Virgin Spanking the Christ Child Before Three Witnesses, 1926

Note the two walls, their relation to one another and on the right-hand wall, the sturdy post which stands in the interior, with the shadow cast diagonally across. View the cut-out window in the left-hand wall with its perspective. And look at the shape of the Madonna’s back, bent over in its act of corporal punishment. It is the same shape as the suspended boulder in the Donati. Enrico Donati has taken Ernst’s basic shapes and transformed them into a powerful statement of force and existence, alluding to its religious progeny.

Weinstein has a number of galleries in and around Union Square, but their main establishment is at 383 Geary Street. Hitchcock fans will note this is famous for being the first opening scene in The Birds building that Tippi Hendren walks by after she has crossed the street is where Weinstein now stands. I suppose that is just another reason I love this gallery.

A business trip in February to Beaverton, Washington brought me to the local eatery, Artisanal Bistro. Apparently it has since closed which saddens me, but I am still going to offer what was a lovely evening. Stylistically, it is reminiscent of a Parisian bistro with its bentwood, rattan-backed chairs, 1930s Art Deco styling, and giant murals. The space is large and while far from intimate, the waiters work hard to provide comfort and a very pleasant experience. The menu is seemingly staid and a throwback to the 1970s with its “classic” French offerings; Bouillaisse, French Onion Soup, and Escargots. There is no nouveau, California cuisine to be found here, but there is a perfectly enticing cheese counter near the bar area which beckons upon entry.

Dining with an old friend, we ordered to share and reveled in the nostalgia of a style of food I rarely encounter. To start, we shared a Beet Salad served with Endive and Spinach, Walnuts, and Humboldt Fog Cheese. Of all we tasted, this very well could have been the most “nouveau” of the entire meal. Generous slabs of cheese accompanied the well-dressed combination of greens and freshly roasted, ample beets. Here was a delightful opening which provided an excellent precursor to the Soup du Jour, a combination roasted chestnut and fennel, creamed together with single fried sage leaf and a small brunoise of foie gras to elevate the already unctuously creamy offering.

Our main entrées were ordered to complement one another; the Plats du Jour of Dover Sole Meunière and Duck a l’Orange. Although Dover Sole is traditionally fileted tableside by a server, here is was brought out pre-flailed and topped with fresh haricot verts, almond silvers, and capers. Fortunately the tail and fish head were left intact to allow for consumption of those delicacies. The fish was tender and moist, with the capers providing a necessary piquant contrast to the rich butter. The duck was equally as rich and tasted exactly like those I experienced when first my parents began taking me to “fancy French restaurants” in the early 1970s.

The true joy of the evening — and the biggest sadness about the restaurant’s closing — was the cheese. We had saved room specifically for the cheese and somewhat laughed when I asked our waiter for suggestions. It seemed he current favorites were all California cheeses. I wanted to experience locally-created cheeses and the in-house cheese monger came over and chatted with us for a bit to find out what our tastes were inclined towards. I advised that I ordered both a glass of Sauternes and Late Harvest Riesling to accompany and our cheese monger did more than accommodate. Hillis Peak is goat cheese made from Nigerian dwarf goats and is made from Pholia Farm, Oregon. A raw-milk cheese, it was tangy from a rubbing with oil and paprika. Red Darla, from Washington, was washed with red wine and produced a pungent, soft, and well-balanced offering. The killer cheese of the evening was Rogue River Blue, also from Oregon. Wrapped in grape leaves and macerated in pear brandy, this was one of the creamiest and intensely fruity blue cheeses I have ever experienced.

I regret I did not write this up in a more timely fashion – perhaps to have encouraged more patronage. It was a very memorable evening.