5475 meals later

So I know it's overreaching to even claim to have a blog anymore but since I still stop in from time to time, I'm still pretending it exists.

Anyway, this Saturday, 10/3, I was thinking "Why does this date seem important?" But between touring a preschool, playing with my kid, cleaning up my house and (miraculously) going to see a movie, I just didn't have the brain space to figure out what the fuck it was that I was forgetting.

It was this blog's 5th anniversary. And holy christcakes, a whole lot has occurred, and changed, in those 5 years.

Though I don't post very often (if you can believe it, there are 1/2 written posts about both Anchor and Hope and Per Se just waiting for me to get off my ass and finish them), I don't ever for a second discount what this blog has meant for my life. I have made amazing friends and I have had incredible opportunities because of this little corner of the web.

If you still stop in to read, thank you. I hope that someday (soon), I can again make it worth your while.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld

He's Clearly My Kid

Diner #3 is 21 months now. It's obvious he's my kid.

Exhibit A: I came into his room after naptime, to find him reading "Hola, Jalapeno" in his crib and saying "Nobwito*."

Exhibit B: We take him to dim sum every weekend. He eats more than we do. And whenever I drive the route we take to dim sum, whether that's our actual destination or not, he sits in the backseat exclaiming "Sum! Buns! Soup Dump**!" He also pulls out a teapot and our bamboo steamers and regularly throws dim sum parties on the coffee table.

Exhibit C: After a visit to Bi-Rite, we got in the car. As we drove by Delfina, he shouted "Home!" and as we drove by Tartine, I heard "Tine? Sant?***"

Exhibit D: We were in the car, on our way to the Fillmore and the following took place:

Jon: Diner #3, do you want to go to SPQR or Pizzeria Delfina?

Diner #3: R

Me: SPQR, honey? Is that what you meant?

Diner #3: K

Jon (not believing Diner #3 has any idea what we're talking about): OK, Diner #3, do you want pizza or pasta?

Diner #3: Pasta

Jon: Pizzeria Delfina or SPQR

Diner #3: R

Jon: OK, well, I guess he knows what he wants.

We then went on to eat dinner at SPQR, where I had to ask the kitchen to fire me another set of clams for my linguine con vongole because my kid ate all the ones that came in the pasta. We said we'd pay, and apologized. They said if our toddler eats clams, they were free.

I fucking love my life.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld

Glossary:
* Nopalito
** Soup Dumplings, or Shanghai Dumplings
***Croissant

My Intentions Are Good

I started a post about Anchor & Hope and never finished it. Honestly, I've reached a new level of suckitude. I'll get to it. Not before you've grown grey pubes and accidentally flushed your teeth, but I'll get to it.

I'm racing against the nap clock, so here's where I think you should eat RIGHT NOW: Contigo. I know I've said it before but that's because I REALLY MEAN IT. I will write about it for reals at some point but if you haven't been yet, just go. I don't know anyone who doesn't love it.

Heading to NYC at the end of the month, and spending most of Diner #3's sleeping hours figuring out where to eat there because he will be staying with the grandparents. Fuck yeah, that's 3 days of New York gluttony without any responsibility to wake up to in the morning. The only reservation I have on the books is Per Se. I'm working on the rest.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld

For Anonymous, Who Misses Me Even Though I Continue to Suck

Sweet, sweet Anonymous, I know I suck. I know. Really I do. But you see since that last post my entire world has exploded into a clusterfuck of real estate transactions. Not complaining -- I waited a long time for this shit.

We are buying a house. After a year of looking. I spent a motherfucking YEAR looking for a house in this city because I would not leave my restaurants. 6 offers later, we are in escrow.

Also. We are selling our condo. Again -- in escrow. Let's all say a silent prayer that the wheels don't come off on this one, shall we?

Additionally. Moving. With a 17 month old. There is not enough liquor in the world.

So, you see, the problem is really that I have no fucking time (or money) to eat out. Trust me, this leaves a much bigger void in my soul than lack of my writing could ever possibly leave in yours. (Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah my pain is worse than yours! I mean, honestly, why do you even put up with this crap?)

The best I can do right now is this: I got to hang out in the kitchen with my boy Scott during the re-opening of his bar, 15 Romolo. They have food now, and it is dee-lish. Even if it wasn't, the drinks (and the movie nights and gong show karaoke) are worth the trek over there.

And scene.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld

Tease

I am using all of my willpower not to write a gushing post about Contigo, the new restaurant helmed by Brett. They don't open until Tuesday, but I had the privilege of attending one of their pre-opening dinners and holy fuckballs is it good. Now Brett is a friend of mine, and so you might be skeptical but I promise you, it is THAT good. I wouldn't be writing this at all if it wasn't.

I knew it would be, but I was wholly unprepared to be quite so blown away. Usually pre-opening dinners are a way to work out the kinks as it were, but I could see nary a kink in the 2+ hours I was there. That's something, considering our party of four tried 13 (yes, thirteen) different dishes.

I will save my real post for after they *really* open, which is this coming Tuesday. In the meantime, just go.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld

Yeah, Yeah, I Know

So some of you have noticed that the links in my dining guide aren't working so well. That's because they still route to the Mesh urls, which are now defunct. The posts still exist but I've just been too busy (lazy?) to go through and update all of them. I'm hoping to get this done by the end of the month, but in Restaurant Whore time that may mean 2012. I'll do my best.

In the meantime, I'd also like to get up something about Anchor and Hope. Because I just had such a great fucking meal there that it would really be inexcusable for me not to do so. While I'm at it, I should write about their sister restaurants (Salt House, Town Hall) because I've never gotten off (on?) my ass to do that either.

And, P.S., the cocktails at Heaven's Dog are boss, but the food is nothing more than meh. You can find much, much better Chinese food in this city for 1/8 the price. You all know my sordid history with the Slanted Door empire, and I was hoping their new outpost (which is the closest to my house of all their houses of eats) would impress. Sadly, it is not so Phan-tastic as the sign heralding their opening proclaimed it would be. I guess I hope to expand on this, too, although I'm not sure it's worth the effort.

There's my Saturday morning cock tease. Hope your weekend is fab, and that the blue balls wear off quickly.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld

Hit Me With Your Best Shot -- Beretta (San Francisco, CA)

Holy shit. I am the blogging equivalent of the married person in an illicit affair. Why you trust a single word on this blog is a mystery to me, what with me breaking promises to you and all.

But please, baby, please. Take me back just this one time. I've got some sweet, sweet lovin' for you tonight. I won't call the wife, I won't check the blackberry, it's just you and me and some sexytime.

Beretta. Have you had the good fortune of dining there? Because if not, you need to stop reading this piece of shit blog right now and head there. I'm honestly getting turned on just thinking about that damn place.

What's the big deal, right? We've got 7 trillion great Italian places in SF, and half of them are in the Mission. Still, Beretta's got a good thing going. I will list them for you now.

1. Space. Last Supper Club was dark and stuffy. Now that Beretta has taken over the location, it's been opened up a bit and has a much warmer feel. It's crazy loud, but that's only because everyone is having such a good time. Plus there are pretty doves all over the place and instead of looking creepy (which, honestly, they should, because fake dead birds ARE creepy, yo), they look lovely and sweet. In an edgy, hip sort of way. OK, I'll just shut up now before I start sounding like an even bigger tool.

2. Cocktails. Yeah, yeah, all the kids are about the cocktails these days. Seasonal, artisanal, local, blah, blah, blah. Yet. Beretta is doing all of this and still keeping it interesting which is getting more and more difficult in this town. The cocktails on the menu are sublime to be sure, but I asked them to make me a surprise (a tequila based surprise) on my last visit and was delivered a beverage that I am sure would be served by virgins in heaven, if such a place existed. Tequila, Cassis, ginger beer and some other stuff (fairy dust? crack?) had me sucking them back as fast as I could manage. Of course that was when I wasn't busy spilling them, but that's another story for another drunkcapade.

3. Service. The hostesses are friendly, despite being crushed by throngs of the hipper-than-thou night after night. The servers are even better. They hit that all important triumverate of nice-knowledgable-efficient. Our most recent server was such a doll that I had to resist the urge to hug her upon leaving (because that would be weird, right?).

4. Food. Food, food, food. Let's first acknowledge the brilliance that is having an Italian menu with NO PASTA. Sounds cuckoo bananas, yes, but it is mensa worthy, folks. Starters, pizza, risotto. Awesome. My faves? The margherita pizza with burrata (instead of, not in addition to, the mozzerella), The proscuitto pizza, the sausage pizza (really, if there's pig on it then you can't go wrong with me). The pizza crust is thin and crispy, the toppings are well-proportioned and the options for embellishment are more than awesome (proscuitto, arugula, burrata, egg, anchovy, you get the idea).

In the starters category I cannot live without the white bean crostini with pancetta. It's the kind of thing where if I dropped one side down on the restaurant floor and then someone stepped on it, I'd still pick it up and eat it because I couldn't bear to lose one. Yes, I'm gross, but that is beside the point.

I'm also partial to the fritto misto, when they have it (seafood, lemons, green beans). My part-time lover loves the meatballs so much that she used to plan her schedule around the Mondays on which they were served. They are now on the menu all the time, so clearly she wasn't the only one clamoring for those meaty balls.

If you are going risotto style, I'd go with the barbera and porcini mushroom. Risotto with booze in it? Yes, please. The saffron with osso bucco is pretty fucking good, too. OK, so they are all good -- to-MAY-to, to-MAH-to, whatever.

I'm a little bit in love with Beretta right now. I feel instantly relaxed when I'm eating there, which is no small feat after my typical day of playing June Cleaver, if June Cleaver didn't cook and had an attitude problem. The only thing I can seem to find fault with is the dessert menu -- nothing ever sounds that interesting and the few things I've had did not impress. But screw dessert -- Humphry Slocombe is only, what? 5 blocks away? -- Beretta hits the target. And with that cheesy pun, I bid you goodnight.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld