The Pig with the Sexy Stomach @ Bar Tartine

I never thought that I would have to make a reservation for brunch on a Sunday anywhere in the Mission, but such was the case yesterday on Father's Day, as I and a friend wanted to channel our inner white person and exercise our affinity for brunch. We tried Maverick on 17th in between Mission and Valencia and were told that they wouldn't have anything available for the next two and a half hours if we didn't have a reservation. The host was chivalrous enough however to recommend walking up to Bar Tartine (from the same people that brought us Tartine Bakery) and up 16th as there would be other places along the way. We arrived at Bar Tartine and their hostess told us that it would be about an hour wait. Thinking that it was going to be the same scenario for pretty much any place that we might stumble upon, we put our names down and went to The Monk's Kettle for a beer, and returned an hour later.

I don't claim to be an aficionado of interior and spacial design, but I will say that I enjoyed the minimal candor of Bar Tartine. Dark, rich, wooden tables parked against white walls, while the flooring was dark chocolate and weather hardwood. The bar appeared to be white and earthstone tonal marble. And its silhouette was lined with hanging, exposed light bulbs. Nevertheless, this post is really about the pig. So let's proceed...


My picture doesn't really do this hearty helping justice. It's an open faced pork belly sandwich with avocado, pickled jalapeno, egg salad, and shoe strings potatoes. The pork belly was succulent, roasted crisply on the exterior with layered tiers of fatty nourishment. The egg salad reminded me of my friend's deviled eggs, emanating a subtle sweetness, which made me wonder if they used japanese mayo. The avocado was lush and creamy. It was topped by some sort of micro green that was touched with a lemon vinaigrette. It was nice to get a little acid to cut the fat, but I was hoping for a little more. I thought that the jalapeno wasn't piquant or spicy enough. I could have used just a tad more heat or a sharper acidity to assist in balancing the heft of the dish. Overall, despite the desire for a hint more brightness in the sandwich, I still thoroughly delighted in it. The shoe strings were an after-thought. As you may have read, in my previous post, I love fries. However, I didn't really revel in these. They had no 'meat' to them. And they were more like potato chips. Perhaps that is what they were trying to accomplish so that the entire plate wasn't too heavy, but when hear shoe strings, I immediately think of the ones at Zuni Cafe and I smile.

Below is what my friend had. Sonoma foie gras panini with cherry and black pepper jam, brioche, mache, and a side salad. I am ashamed and embarassed to say, that I didn't even have a bite. But then again, I was never offered one. So I guess that I will simply have to visit again.

Fry that Frenchie!

Fries accompanied with buttermilk dressing, cajun seasoned mayo, and Heinz ketchup.
Bin 38

I love fries. Fries, pomme frites, papas fritas, whatever you want to tag them. Despite the simplicity of french fries, conceptually, you never have them done the same from two different places. Or I suppose that I should say that despite different places executing them in the same fashion, they probably won't ever taste exactly alike...despite their simplicity. The texture, the bite, the moment when teeth crunch down and combustion of oil, hot potato grain, salt, savoriness, and the audible crispy mashing sound all serve in just a sensual harmony of taste. There's also so many tweaks that can be implemented in the execution of a good french fry. I can find appreciation for pretty much any of them. And I'm fairly certain that most people can. Finely diced garlic, cajun seasoning, incorporating various oils, animal fat, sweet potato, multiple aiolis and dipping sauces, mustard and ketchup, etc. You name it, I'll eat it. I can't help myself.

The Goode Life

To the five people that maybe read this:

Check out my friend's video and vote for him to get the job of his dreams.
http://www.areallygoodejob.com/video-view.aspx?vid=il6ml79hSpE

Derek's blog:
http://www.livethegoodelife.com

Living The Goode Life? There's something that sounds really good about that.

Yelp this, Smart Ass.

I only use Yelp occasionally to get feedback from people who have been patrons to specific establishments that I'm looking into, but I really need to read through a lot of text to find the reviews that I truly find functional. Just like Facebook, blogging, or even twittering now, it's another medium for people to extend their digital voice. And when you put it that way, it doesn't seem so bad. It's another innovative branch unto the freedom of speech...a spacious arena for someone to share their opinion. But here's the thing...more often than not, their opinions read like a caveman trying to articulate that the kampachi crudo was lacking seasoning and had too much acidity that it overwhelmed the fish. And no, I'm not talking about the Geico cavemen. That's right...it's downright impossible to absorb anything positive or pragmatic about these 'reviews,' other than "GOOOOOOOdddd" or "Baaaaaaddddaaaah." And fine, whatever, maybe I'm being a little condescending myself, but really now, what am I supposed to take from, "Dude, what's with the attitude. Great beers, great food, a little overpriced but customer service is key. How about a smile every now and then at leat." Two stars out of five. What does that mean? What should I really take from that? What makes the beers so great? What about the food did you like? And what are the industry standards for something being 'fairly' priced? After all of this, the 'great beers' and 'great food,' but service without a smile, warrants this place two stars out of five? According to what scaling system is it justifiable to knock it down that low? And you see, that's just it, there's really no logical frame for what comes to be an aggregate rating system for a place, because each individual carries in their pocket a different rating system where they hold certain attributes to have various levels of value and markability. Actual food, which to me, happens to be the most important thing to be at a food establishment (I know, go figure), doesn't appear to be the determining factor for quite a few yelpers. I've read far too many opinions that read, 'The food and drink are surprisingly fantastic, but the place is small and crowded. Also, it took us an extra 3 minutes to flag down some service. So I'm going to give it two stars out of five. If it wasn't so cramped, I'd give it the full five.' Really?! Did you find yourself forgetting that you were going to a pub? Cuz man, I totally agree...I love those pubs that have no one in them. It's absolutely refreshing to find no people in a pub, a place where people to go be social. There's a quaintness and charm that can be associated with a quiet pub (tsk-tsk).

I'm not saying that all yelpers are dumb twits, but a lot of them sound like prima donnas. And there is a difference to being a relevant reference basket of eloquent and constructive critique and just being a pretentious, wannabe-elitist, lover of-your-own weightless diction, A-hole. There is such a thing as writing for the sake of wanting to spread quality information. It's another thing to just be enamored with the sound of your own voice. Here's an example. Sure, super duper witty about comparing consistency of food to AT&T mobile service (scratching my head as I wonder how people can be so 'smart.'), but really, what's fruitful to take from this?...Not much.

Here's another 'review' from that I found amusing. It's written by a Joe C. Here's an excerpt:

"The food is just alright. I can't complain about the quality of the food because the quality was just fine. But that itself is also a problem. The food is JUST alright, nothing more and nothing less. I don't remember it being bad at all, but give me a few more weeks and I probably won't remember the food at all. It's not memorable."

So Joe, what is it that you are really trying to say? Because all I got there was that you liked it, but you thought it was ok, but you didn't have a problem with it, but you did, because you couldn't complain about the quality of the food, because it was fine, but you won't remember it, but you will remember that it wasn't bad at all, but you know...it's 'alright,' but you can't really understand why you can't say anything of worth about it, because you know, it was 'JUST' fine.

GREAT. Thank you for that.

The biggest fundamental pickle that I have with a lot of yelpers is that they're just downright cruel. I understand that this is a forum for more thought and freedom of opinion and it's great and wonderful...yadayadayada. But perhaps people should stop and think about how a lot of these businesses that they 'rate' and 'review' are small business establishments, run by families. These are people/families' livelihoods we're talking about here. They're trying to make an honest living and I'd venture to say that the majority of them do take pride in the service that they provide. They want people to come back and be happy with their experience. So just because you paid patronage to an establishment one time and had an experience that wasn't the greatest, you feel like it's your duty to sandbag them in every and any way possible? And even on an objective level, how can you honestly give a fair judgement on one experience? Maybe they had an off day. It does happen...to a lot of people, and I don't think that I'm out of line in saying that it happens to you, probably more often than you'd like to let on, since now you've become such an institution of judgement. Yes, I was being sarcastic....just to help you out if you didn't get that. And that's why I think this is just awesome:


These places that people love to bash should be able to bash people right back, if only for just the stupid shit that they write. Maybe Pizzeria Delfina's being a little hard on Natalie T. I guess I can sympathize with her. I personally love my pizza extremely dry, tasteless, bland, and overwhelming forgettable. Grease? Eww. Pig fat? That's like...sooooooooo gross. (Haha.)

To be fair, here is an example of a useful review in my opinion, written by Lee H. regarding Beretta. Insightful, by simply explaining the foundation of her opinion. Not denigrating by any means and voiced relatively fairly and descriptively. Kudos to you, Lee H. Only thing I would have liked to see, is if you had written your review after visiting maybe a couple times. And there in lies the reality, that it is hard to find a Yelper that will formulate a congruent opinion after a number of experiences and not just the first. If you notice, most of these reviews are written after the first experience.

So. People that want to be food critics and general reviewers of anything and everything...Perhaps, you should garner some expertise in the area of which you decide to offer your opinion. And for goodness' sake, don't base everything off of a first impression. And one more thing, spare the 'wit' and the gratuitous, heartless malice. You're really not that important.

Kitchenette: Gourmet Lunch Grub out of a loading dock.

During this time when the economic recession has hit everyone of any industry, we've seen an emergence of restauranteurs and food proprietors opening up street food joints, all in efforts to allow consumers to enjoy delectable food, orchestrated with organic and sustainable ingredients, at prices a fraction of what it would cost to sit and dine inside their restaurants. Chez Spencer's Laurent Lategly has a taco truck nessled on 7th and Folsom serving French fare. The people that brought you Farmer Brown, opened a window that they call Little Skillet on Ritch right off of Townsend that serves chicken and waffles and other southern fare. At the Lung Shan Restaurant on Mission in between 18th and 19th, a guest chef and crew are brought in every Thursday and Saturday nights to put together a menu for Mission Street Food. It's poignant insight into how the food industry is trying to beat the downturn. And who doesn't love street food? It's cheap and often times, something very minimal-cozy about it, to steal a phrase from a friend of mine.

So that brings me to Kitchenette for today's chalk talk. Kitchenette isn't exactly 'street-food.' It's more or less a lunch stand that runs out of a loading dock on Illinois in between 20th and 22nd (apparently, there is no 21st there). The selling point is that everything that they use is organic and sustainable, even the cups, utensils, and box-wear that they use. The menu changes every day with usually two main entrees to boot, always under $10. They do gourmet sandwiches and handheld type of fare, making it very 'street-food' and 'grub-to-go' friendly.


This particular afternoon was a Thursday and I took the 22nd from my place to go outbound and get to the last stop, 20th and 3rd. The menu for that day announced Korean Tacos. They were white corn tortillas filled with kabi-style beef, marinated and grilled. Nicely cooked medium rare, they were tender and tasty. They were topped with three different types of salsa: roasted tomato-sesame salsa, spring onion-cilantro salsa, and avocado salsa. They also added some spicy cabbage. The heat was nicely balanced with the acid from the avocado salsa. And the cilantro was maybe the best part of the taco, very bright and bold in flavor with a very round bitterness to it. This was $8.50. The only problem that I had was that I wanted more. $8.50 for a few gourmet tacos that were excellent just was still a bit pricey for me, considering that I left needing to eat something else still.

The chicharrones ($3 bag) were fantastic. Pork skin cracklings are usually too heavy and saturated with too much oil for my taste. These, on the other hand were fried to a crisp, yet light and airy in texture. Seasoned with simply salt and a little sugar, I could probably eat them all day. The strawberry-rhubarb refresher ($2.50) is exactly that, quite refreshing. It wasn't overly sweet and sugary and it was touched with just the right amount of acid and tartness.

The total damage was $14 + $1 for tip. Not exactly 'cheap' for eating off of a loading dock standing up, or if you are lucky to get a bench. Not too expensive, but considering that I still needed some more chow afterwards, I could probably find other places to satisfy my hunger for less than that. Nevertheless, it is an experience that had its share of high points and I will be sure to visit again on another day, when they have heartier sandwiches on the menu.

'I don't know you, but I want you...'

Eighty-eight minutes could not have been more captivating than when I retired to my couch to watch Once last night. Rarely do you drop upon a film that draws you so far into the soul of the story, the beauty of its characters, and the fervor of their relationships. Not to mention, that there was nothing glamorous about this movie...it was carried by people. No special effects or revolutionary cinematography. Nothing extraordinary to look at per se. Once is a musical, in the most natural state. There's no evident production. And as cliche or generic of a statement it is, I really can't find a better way to say it than as I was watching, I truly felt that this was life in motion picture.

The movie's story revolves around a young singer-songwriter (played by Glen Hansard) who performs out on the streets of Dublin when he's not working his father's shop, repairing vacuums. He's handsome, but the countenance of his eyes immediately express sadness. His voice confirms it and serves as the driving vigor of his musical direction, with his melancholy crooning sharply able to skip across octaves. As the movie opens, he finds himself encountered by a girl (played by Marketa Irglova) at night, who turns out to be a musician in her own right. The girl questions him, probing him about the inspiration behind the song that he just finished. There is an earnestness about the girl, something so unequivocally unprocessed, it's hard not to be enamored with her, as the guy quickly understands. Her beauty is dignified and even though she is quite visibly young, she knows how to throw her weight around. And she gets what she sets out for. One of my favorite images of the movie is of her walking next to him, ever so frequently looking back and forth at each other, as she holds on to her blue hoover vacuum by the hose, dragging it along as if she was dragging a puppy by the leash, as they go to his father's shop to get it fixed. The interaction between 'Guy' and 'Girl,' as listed in the credits, delivers nostalgia for many of us, about lost love and mutual gravitation, a magnetism that is blocked by circumstances in life...timing, complications, responsibilities. Yet you know that they are soul mates. And they know it too. It's heartbreaking and it's familiar. If you don't believe in soul mates, Once may change your mind. The moment they sit down to perform their first duet, Once mesmerizes your soul and touches your heart, with the harmonic intertwinement of their voices, and even more powerfully, each engagement of their eyes.

Once truly embodied the notion that treasure can be found in the fabric of people. No props necessary. I was surprised in the best way possible. I felt connected.

Me? A Goodie-doer? Really?

When it comes to picking a career path, I've generally been approached by two schools of thought. The first is something that I was exposed to early and often. It's a school of thought deeply embedded in the thinking of traditional Chinese mentality, one that tends to lean more toward the conservative spectrum of thought. It's to play things safely. It's to do what is practical. And its reasoning is that it allows for equilibrium of emotion and control. Make enough money to support the various aspects of your livelihood. Do what is necessary to maintain your sanctity and lifestyle. For much of my life, I've adopted this curriculum. I do have a lifestyle that I'm accustomed to. And I wish to maintain that. If it means doing something that will sustain it, even if my heart doesn't sing with joy about it, it will suffice just as long as I'm not miserable doing it. And for a long time, this made complete sense to me. I generally accepted the fact that not everyone finds a career path that can be associated with bliss. But it's finding a happy medium that will benefit one's overall time on this earth in the long run. That happy medium will still allow for opportunities to materialize along the way.

And then this dude gallivants into the cafe. Let's just call him Recession.

"Hello Sir. Can I get you some coffee or a pastry?"
"No, but you can go f*@k yourself."
"Why, thank you. Will you be staying a while?"
"Yup. Anguish, baby. Anguish."
"Excellent. Thanks for the misery."

Now you'd think when this guy comes around and does to people what he does, people would be more inclined to embrace the first school of thought. In reality, most people do. You see, this fear monger took my job away from me. For the first few months, I scrambled to find 'a job.' Anything, really, would have been satisfactory. But then I kept putting myself out there in positions that I was easily qualified for and I kept finding my efforts fruitless. Five months later, still unemployed, my blinders are lost in the wind. And not to say that I'm not confused. I am perfectly discombobulated. And I'm scared shitless. Believe that. But my befuddlement is hatched by the fact that I'm thinking with not just my head now, but with my heart. Isn't it preposterous that people can't find jobs in their own industry...the industries that they've spent the better part of their professional careers fine-tuning? Brilliant, bright, capable, extraordinary people can't find a job doing what is second nature to them. Isn't there something entirely wrong with this picture? And all this heartache and abasement for what? For something that I'm not even passionate about doing? I worked for a company that did marketing and advertising online where the end game was lead generation...getting someone to fill out a form so that I could send that person's info to my client. What my client did with that lead wasn't my concern. It was just my concern that the client paid me for that lead. And while it was fine and I didn't mind the experience or actual work, it hardly warmed my heart and to be honest, it didn't tickle my brain all the much either.

Interesting. Maybe... just maybe... there would be a chance... that....... I would be happier doing something else? What an astonishing notion (slapping my thigh and half hoarsely chuckling)! And don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to denigrate people that stick to school of thought #1. I mean, people do need to make sure that their livelihoods are secure. People have children, they have large mortgages, fat bills to pay, immovable investments that they're tied to. I get it. They need something, anything. And they're right to feel that way. I'm just not one of those people. So here I am, finding myself giving this asshole (Recession) the bird. And at the same time, maybe I have him to thank for my new-found enlightenment.

So... good, honest work. Right. Something that I can take pride in doing. Something that I can smile about at the end of the day. And something that gives me frequent opportunity to say, 'Today was a good one.' Where can I indelibly leave my mark? Make someone happier than they were before? Leave, making a positive difference?

I don't know. But I'm going to look for it.