Feast Blog

Mission Street Food is a rare restaurant anomaly in San Francisco. Strike that. It is a rare restaurant anomaly anywhere. You see, it is not a full-fledged restaurant (although they are striving towards becoming one). They only operate two days a week — Thursday and Saturdays — out of a dinky and understated Chinese Restaurant, Lung Shan. If you don’t have reservations, you are likely to be presented with a line of people, waiting for a table.  It is worth the wait. $5.00 corkage is one of the cheapest in the city, but bear in mind that you are drinking your quaff from tiny Chinese teacups.

The menu changes every week and the prices are incomparable. The dishes are served family style and easily feed two or three people each. On the evening I finally got my dining buddy, Lisa, to join me, we were intensely lucky to have the menu be geared entirely around Beef Seven Ways (meaning for us – mostly OFFAL!)

Our first course, priced at a mere $10.00, was Mosaic of Carpaccio; New York strip steak and honeycomb trip with a slow-cooked egg, violet mustard, fried capers, and potato chips.  The selection of meats were sliced wafer thin, tender and rich. The only downside of the dish was the accompaniment of the rather pedestrian potato chips. There are easily half-a-dozen different, EASY ways to present a carbohydrate other than opening a bag of Lay’s.

Next up was an Oxtail Terrine, with fines herb gelée, root vegetable brunoise, truffled egg, mixed chicories, puffed barley, and spring herbs. Here is my confession; it was a posted picture of the chef making this very terrine which enticed me to this meal. Despite the varied flavors, this was a very balanced and well-made terrine; fresh and surprisingly light. It made me miss creating my own terrines. Quite a deal at $9.00.

Lisa is a sucker for marrow bones and their presentation of Beef Consommé with marrow butter toast and persillade might very well have been the dish of the evening. Two long croutons were presented with the broth poured tableside. Pacing ourself because we had ordered the entire menu (and, admittedly, packed up some of the terrine to take home), this was a course we finished easily and eagerly. $8.00.

Based on the menu description, the Surf and Turf was quite possibly destined to be Lisa’s favorite; simmered Atlantic skate with crispy sweetbreads with asparagus, crushed pea, and sea urchin emulsion. We both adore sweetbreads AND skate but this is the one dish which somewhat faltered for me. The sea urchin emulsion on the sweetbreads worked extremely well but the crushed pea and asparagus sauce for the skate was heavily spiced with something that bit back. I was happy with the few bites of pure fish I could get, but it was a discordant flavor against the light, engaging foam on the sweetbreads. There was nothing that brought these two main ingredients together. But Lisa liked them both; $12.00

Tongue and Cheek — hilariously entitled and delectable to behold — continued our beefy endeavor. Seared tongue, braised cheek, savoy cabbage served with a demiglace and fresh grated horseradish. The intense richness of these meats precluded us from taking much more than a few bites, reserving the bulk for left-over status. The cabbage was a brilliant, somewhat palate-cleansing attribute which helped cut through the fatty texture of these meats. $11.00

Served last in the bovine extravaganza, was Aged USDA Prime Ribeye with potato espuma, charred scallion pickle, and béarnaise sauce. While Lisa is a sucker for all things with sea urchin, for me, it is all about a good béarnaise sauce. The potato espuma was almost non-existent in its fluffiness, practically disappearing when it hit the mouth. I was ready to scrape my fingertips through the béarnaise but thankfully, the meat was an excellent tool for job in lieu of my fingers. This was the most expensive dish of the evening, a whopping $14.00

This was a rare evening at Mission Street Food in that the only “dessert” which was offered was Sweet & Sticky Glazed Habañero Jerky. I suppose they wanted to stay within the Beef theme, but our server advised us that as opposed to a delightful sweet finish, the habañero predominated the flavors, providing a mostly spicy finish which we opted to avoid. When all was said and done, with tip and wine, the cost of this meal PER PERSON was around $60.00. Had I thought to bring a wine from my collection, we would have gotten it around the $50 per person mark. For the quantity and quality of food offered, there truly is no better deal in town; as long as it is a Thursday or a Saturday. Oh, and of special note, they serve late. Up until midnight!

Six weeks ago, I got a text message from Lisa stating simply, “Just found us a new restaurant!!!!!!” That means a lot because both Lisa and I have become bored dining around San Francisco. She was excited at having found an establishment that is like those she discovered while traveling around Japan; authentic, intimate, and unlike anything else we have here in the Bay Area. There is a sign in the front window that warns the philistines: No Sushi. No Combination Plates. This is not your standard, Westernized Japanese restaurant. With an expansive ten-page menu, this is a restaurant based on the concept of lots of small plates. Not like an izakaya with a bar setting, the dark wood room is effectively serviced by attentive waiters and waitresses who are quick to offer suggestions.

The reason behind the lengthy menu is its layout; each ingredient with the descriptions of how that ingredient is prepared. For example, Gindara (black cod) has eight preparations: sakamushi (steamed with sake), oroshi-ni (simmered with grated daikon), teriyaki, yuan-grilled (soy sauce and sake marinade), sakekasu-grilled (sake less marinade), butter grilled, and panko-fried. With ingredients like eel, pork, duck, beef, chicken, shrimp, eggplant, tofu, krab, flounder, etc., it is easy to see why the menu is so extensive. And that does not include the fact that there is also shabu-shabu and sukiyaki offerings (with Wagyu beef for $80!). That’s okay, we’ll be back for those because there is so much to try…

With the help of our waitress, we managed to pick a selection of tastes, starting with a special that evening, toro sashimi served with fresh wasabi. More than just exceptional fish, the plating and offering was a cut above with shredded daikon and an interesting micro green served alongside the wasabi. Some of the best, melt-in-the-mouth tuna I have tasted. Being an uni fanatic, the preparation that Lisa wanted was served in a bowl with crab, an agar sheet, shredded vegetables, sliced chestnuts, and more than we could determine. It was clean and engaging with more gelatinous goo added for texture.

Another texturally-challenging dish (for those who have problems with gooey things — which Lisa and I don’t), was Mekabu-Su, vinegared sticky wakame (seaweed) topped with a raw quail egg. Served in a small, celadon green lotus bowl, here was a mouthful of viscous goodness. A dish we probably would not have considered had our waitress not been so passionate about suggesting was the butter-grilled scallops; four large, tender scallops in nothing other than simple brown butter. But the preparation was enhanced by its offering on top of a selection of grilled vegetables; sprouts and greens which were a delightful juxtaposition to the intensely rich scallops.

Another surprise was an offering of grilled oysters with egg yolk. It was actually a fresh grilled oyster encased in an omelet-like preparation, topped with toasted pine nuts and a sliced, crisp lotus root. We had debated ordering the chawan-mushi and was glad we didn’t; this was more than enough rich egg flavor which was definitely enhanced by the pine nuts. Best of all, they were very careful to not lose any of the oyster liquor in the preparation.

We finished our meal with their preparation of Japanese sweets, wagashi, three small offerings of delight; two red-bean based. The square wagashi was topped with lightly toasted rice bits and stuffed with a chestnut. The round, azuki-based wagashi was topped with a square of gold leaf and stronger than the square version. The last, round delight was an anmitsu, a chilled gelatin with fruit; large, golden raisins, orange peel, and a surprisingly different hint of celery which provided that surprise flavor.

Much of the joy of this type of dining is a sensation that many Westerners seem to miss: TEXTURE. There are complaints about some dishes not having enough TASTE when the cultural bias in Japanese food is often about the feel versus a strong flavor. That is not to say that there is no flavor to the courses, but that many times the dish is not about presenting a strong component of tastes, but a strong component of texture. And if you are willing to experiment and enjoy all that is offered, I can guarantee a stupendous experience. Personally, with a menu as expansive as Kappou Gomi is offering, I am anxious to go back and work my way through all of it.

My old friends are well-seasoned in the ritual of my annual Cassoulet. The ritual is simple; once a year, the duck fat flowing in my veins runs thin and like a fine automobile requiring its regularly scheduled quarts of oil, my body begins its craving for this unctuously rich dish, redolent with duck confit, over three pounds of pork products, duck fat, and Tarbais beans. I have written in the past how I came about using my favorite recipe, Paula Wolfert‘s Toulouse-Style Cassoulet. It takes three days to make. It is a labor of love. I have to order specialty ingredients from a local importer, Joie de Vivre. I soak my beans and season my pork. A ragout is made a day in advance and the beans and duck and pork products are layered in the specially-designed bowl by Clay Coyote and baked for several hours.

Fearing my guests won’t have enough to eat, I supplement the evening’s offering with cheese and wine, crudité and charcouterie, stuffed mushroom caps and goat-cheese filled endive studded with port wine- and spice-soaked dried figs and candied pecans, an Alsatian onion tart and caviar. There were desserts and friends. Yes, the evening is truly all about the warmth of sharing the goodness of the richness of great food with the richness of true friendship.

I have truly fabulous friends. They brought the wine; some bubbly to start the evening with, a Moet Chandon Champagne. But then the magic: Without being told it was traditional, every one who brought a bottle, contributed that special juice which is traditional with cassoulet, a California Pinot Noir or a French Burgundy (they are the same grape, after all). From California, we reveled in an ’07 La Crema from Sonoma, an ’06 Domaine Alfred Chamisal Vineyard from Edna Valley, an ’03 Marimar Estate Don Miguel Vineyard from the Russian River Valley, and a very special ’98 Olivet Lane Estate, also from the Russian River Valley. That ’98 Olivet was a close companion with the French ’95 Blagny La Piece sous le Bois.

There has been requests for a second bowl this very cold, wintery season. The fact that San Francisco is experiencing unseasonably cold weather might demand an encore; several friends have considered chipping in for the ingredients, only to divide up the portions for T.V. dinners (it freezes VERY well and I have been known to go through the effort of a second production just for the left-over factor). I was to create a second go-around. In making the ragout for the cassoulet, I was left with a quart or so of the seasoned broth. Not wanting any of it to go to waste, I seared up a few Italian sausages, sautéed some mirepoix with pancetta, and recooked the broth with some Rancho Gordo Yellow Indian Woman Beans. Heartier than the creamy Tarbais beans, the second version of the cassoulet was in some ways, more satisfying than the first — but maybe because I got to relish these leftovers over a few days in the quiet of the apartment without all the pageantry. Just a good friend stopping by for lunch, a mug of eggnot latté, and the cat who knows he gets to lick the bowl when I’m done.

Florio is a little restaurant in my neighborhood that I dine at only once or twice a year. Quite frankly, the menu has always been a bit too restrained for my tastes; generic steak frites and mundane roast chicken. Not bad at all, just dishes I always felt I could create at home. In fact, the times I have gone there I have always enjoyed myself, but was never blown away. But when my older sister comes to visit, Florio is a favorite for her for the very reasons I forget about it; she is a woman who revels in a good roast chicken, craves a hearty steak with fries, and loves its basic goodness.

When she arrived for the annual jaunt up Fillmore Street for pre-Thanksgiving shopping, I tried to steer her towards some other establishments. “S.P.Q.R. has a new chef,” I entreated. “Japantown is just a block away,” I reminded. Nope. She wanted Florio.

Trying to be a bit on the healthier side, I started with a salad of shaved fennel, anchovies, and pomelos. And was I ever surprised. That which used to earmark as staid and mundane was now surprisingly fresh and innovative. Sister Sue had a squash soup which was heightened with fresh wild mushrooms – so creamy and rich and engaging. Continuing in her vein of comfort food, Susan ordered a Berkshire pork Milanese with house-made sauerkraut, fingerling potatoes, and mustard sauce. Pounded thin like a veal cutlet, for $19 this dish was astonishingly good; tender, moist, and with a great crust, possibly made with the addition of panko for extra crunchiness. I was a bit jealous I hadn’t ordered the dish myself.

Except that I had ordered mussels. From Totten Inlet, this was offered as a starter for $13.50 but with my salad opener, I wasn’t worried that I had under-ordered. And then the mussels arrived. Crowned with an aïoli-topped crouton, I have to admit that I have never seen such engorged, fleshy, monstrously huge mussels. There is no way to get around the sexual innuendo of these bivalves, but beyond the obvious shape, the taste elevated the experience to one of ecstasy. They were tender and rich, a clean white-wine broth combining with the garlicky sauce of the aïoli to create a creamy milkiness akin to… well… Okay, I suppose saying the dish was orgasmic is going to far, huh? Enough said.

Suffice to say I have a new fondness and respect for Florio. It is far from staid and sedate. I have found a new gem in my neighborhood to bring friends. And a last word on service: Exemplary.

There is no irony in the fact that what could be considered my most memorable Los Angeles meal in recent history was not spent with a fellow foodie. I wanted to go somewhere special with Tony, who was my childhood friend and easily one of the most influential people in my early life. We hadn’t seen each other in over 27 years so it was important for me to find a restaurant that would be indicative of great Los Angeles food, offer a wide selection, and that was near to the L.A. County Museum of Art, where we met prior to dinner. The irony is that Tony didn’t care for much of the food at all — but that is no reflection on AOC whatsoever. Tony is a guy who genuinely prefers Dennys. Oh well. Besides being an amazing evening with an old friend, it gave me some astounding left-overs for my few days at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium.

Right off the bat, we ordered the largest cheese plate possible, five cheeses for $25; Besace du Berger (goat), Vermont shepherd Major Farms (sheep), Sottocenere Veneto Italy (cow), Casatica di Bufala Bergramo Italy (buffalo), and Bayley Hazen Jasper Hill Farm Vermont (blue). An exceptional selection which was loved by me and nibbled at by Tony. Well, he at least likes cheese.

For the main courses, I ordered for us to share the Duck confit and shell bean stew with ham hock, Clams, sherry, chanterelles and garlic, and a salad of apple, persimmon, pecans, and Roaring 40s blue. I also couldn’t resist a side of farro and black rice with pinenuts and currants. There is no way I could pick one favorite dish over another, but writing this now — a few weeks later — the taste of the clams and chanterelles still haunts me. From the wood-burning oven and served in a cast-iron skillet, I can’t recall ever having received such unctuous shellfish served thus with mushrooms before. So rich and with the crusty toast to sop up the garlicky sauce, even Tony appreciated the sauce without being a fish eater.

I thought he would like the duck, but it was too rich for him. For me, it was a great example of how to elevate a cassoulet knock-off. Served with the creamy beans and tender duck, were finely turned and fresh root vegetables. Granted, I only had a few bites when the dish was served hot, but it made for a great cold dish the following day and I could sense how well prepared the dish really was. The fresh salad was completely consumed by both of us, clean apples and bright persimmons. Also, the farro and wild rice was probably unnecessary during the course of the meal (except that I loved it), but was also an exceptional left-over. Perfectly seasoned and not a mis-step during the course of the meal.

Now I will give Tony points for having a sweet tooth and we shared an Ibarra chocolate cake with spiced pepitas and dulce de leche ice cream. If only I could have had left-over of this as well. Obviously prepared to order, the spiced pepitas made a warm chocolate cake on a different level; rich, yes — but moreso than just a good, warm chocolate cake. The dulche de leche ice cream provided a creamy counterpoint; a bit sweeter than than dark cake.

A word on service; we were seated in a smallish room upstairs, away from the main dining room. It could get a little loud, especially when the bridal shower at a nearby table got a bit more rowdy than desired. But we stayed well beyond the time when anyone else was seated in the room and the service continued to be superlative. They guided me on the dishes that I would be taking with me, since I did not have refrigeration. Everyone, from the bussers to the waitress, were excellent.