California Dreamin'
Well, I've returned to NYC, but I'm still on Pacific Time. Sure I'll be back on track tomorrow, but until then I'm kinda enjoying the off-kilter feeling. Have no fear though, I'm not so out-of-whack that I can't share a few San Francisco highlights.
First off, I must raise a glass of California Cabernet in toast to the hotel where I stayed: The Renaissance Stanford Court Hotel on Nob Hill (pictured above).
Now, lest you think me a "princess," booking a swank hotel room during a business trip, I'll let you know that the hotel was far and away less expensive than several of the usual suspects that had been recommended, including the Marriott and Hyatt Regency. And so, who was I to complain about a large room with elegant Chinois decor, three large, sun-filled windows, a heated towel rack, complimentary morning coffee/tea/hot chocolate, an ample supply of fluffy, white towels, turn-down service and a mint on my pillow?
I don't think I ever want to go to bed again without a mint on my pillow.
To top it off, the hotel's location put the California Street trolley right in front of its main door, which conveniently took me to my client's office each morning with a charming clackety-clack and magnificent vistas of the city.
Must say that this morning's NYC subway ride to work - with the requisite smell of the sweaty masses and urine stench - didn't really cut it in comparison.
Now, I do not want you to worry that this is going to become an exercise in New York-bashing. I adore New York. But, I must admit that I wasn't immune to the Bay Area's charms during my stay.
That said, let's get to the good stuff: food and drink.
My first full night, my colleague Paul invited me out for a wee wine bar crawl to discuss business among other matters. A true oenephile, he was a bit embarrassed by his first pick for the evening, a new Russian Hill spot called Bacchus. Its wine selection by the glass was miniscule and the space was teeny, tiny. In addition, the bar's couches were ridiculously low to the ground, making me wonder if they were hoping for a midget clientele. One drink and we quickly determined that the place was merely a "holding area" for the sushi restaurant next door and headed out the door.
Our next stop needed to include food, so I suggested a restaurant/wine bar I had heard about called 1550 Hyde Cafe & Wine Bar (pictured above).
After sitting at their welcoming bar, downing an antipasto platter of San Daniele prosciutto, fiore sardo, grilled asparagus and olives with a glass of Champagne (for him) and Russian River Valley Chardonnay (for me), we knew we had a winner. Splitting a fragrant entree of Oregon line-caught king salmon with saffron rice, ruccola and lemon-thyme butter only solidified our belief that we'd made the right choice for dinner.
Once the plate was whisked away, we were tempted to share a dessert, but Paul insisted that we were much better off moving on to our next stop for what he promised would be the ideal California wine bar. Instead of the typical sweet, he suggested that we order a plate of gourmet cheese to compliment our vino. He couldn't think of a dessert that could top that.
He was right.
Hayes & Vine was a find.
The wine bar (pictured above) prides itself on being just that - a wine bar. There's no kitchen. The menu offers a few gloriously construed cheese platters, spreads and an offering of mouth-puckering boquerones. The owner, Mark, is a joyful character who is as romantic about his wine selection as he was with his music.
We ended up not only closing the place at midnight, but being invited to sip some more of Mark's gorgeous wines after-hours. In deference to my urge to dance, Mark let me put on a bit of Stevie Ray Vaughn, so I could shake, rattle and roll in between glasses of select vintages from boutique vineyards located in Napa, Sonomo, Carneros and more. I must admit it was difficult to restrain myself with all of those hard-to-come-by bottles at the ready, but at 2:30am I finally pulled myself away, into a cab and back to the hotel.
After all - it was a work night.
The next night, I had a lovely reunion with my friend Leslie over a not so lovely dinner at Slanted Door. I don't know what all the fuss has been about. The food took forever to get to the table and distinct flavors were nowhere to be had. The view from the restaurant's Ferry Market Building location, however: stunning.
On my last night in the Bay Area, I made my way down Telegraph Hill, navigating a winding stairway through landscaped front yards overflowing with colorful buds. Leaving the scent of heady Night-Blooming Jasmine behind, I decided to heed two friends' advice and headed directly to the Basque restaurant Piperade.
Boy, was I glad I heeded. Frankly, I can't wait to "heed" again the next time I'm in San Francisco.
A warm, rustic room (pictured above), the restaurant's central focus is an oversized rough-hewn wood table in the middle of the room, with a hefty chandelier above, crafted out of empty wine bottles. I bypassed the tables and sat at the bar.
Greeted by a blue-eyed French bartender with a glint in his eye and a bit of the devil in his smile, I knew I was in the right place. After a day of traipsing around the city the only decision I could make was that I wanted an appetizer and glass of white wine. I left the rest to him. His selections were divine. I savored every morsel of the Taloa with spring garlic, creme fraiche and subtlely smoked salmon. The Basque white he chose was crisp and complimented it perfectly.
I was almost done, when I noticed that he offered a small plate of foie gras on toast point to some regulars down the bar. My mouth hung open in shock when they turned it down. Turned it down?!?! This is foie gras, people! What could they be thinking?
Lucky for me, my bartender caught my look and quickly asked me if I'd mind taking the plate off his hands. Mind? You've got to be kidding!
It was outstanding. A rich, generous slice of duck liver topped with a few brackish crystals of fleur de sel. Pure heaven on a cracker.
I took a moment - a breath - and then realized that I couldn't just stop at that. So, considering how well the bartender did with my first course, I had to insist that he select a dessert as well.
He did me proud.
The Turron mousse cake with roasted almonds was just sweet enough with an edge of nougat flavor and crunchy, buttery nuts atop. My glass of Cava served it well.
And, now that I'm back home, I must admit that I can't get Piperade off my mind. Maybe it's time that I start experimenting with Basque cookery in my kitchen. For me, anyway, it'll be like bringing little bit of San Francisco back to Kings County, bridging the gap between the Golden Gate and Brooklyn Bridges so to speak. And, with Piperade Chef Gerald Hirigoyen's cookbook only costing $25.50 on Amazon, happily, I can afford the toll.