Totally Unauthorized

I tell opponents at the bridge table that I’m  “just a country boy”, but the truth is that I was born in Brooklyn, although we moved to Los Angeles when I was 7, and Orinda when I was 11.

Some of the things that have happened in the last 10 days or so make me certain that I’m a California boy through and through, so I thought I’d share them.

First, we were at an art show and met a new artist with work we wanted.  Because he needed to see our house to discuss exactly what size and color we were talking about, I invited him to dinner on a night we were having friends in already.  It seemed right, living here, to add “bring your wife, or husband, or partner, or whatever.”  In point of fact, he brought his husband–nothing out of the ordinary for the Bay Area, but we sure aren’t in Kansas anymore.

Then this week we went to another show and went out to dinner at Greens, in the Fort Mason complex, which is a vegetarian establishment.  The food is good, unless you are in dire need of a lamb chop.

Heirloom tomatoes and burrata--grown on their own farm

Greens is owned by the San Francisco Zen Center, and their produce comes from their own farm.  It’s a beautiful place on the water, looking out at the Marina Green and the Golden Gate Bridge.  If they had a decent selection of sweetener for their iced tea I’d give them a top rating, but places that only have the dreaded pink stuff can’t get more than a B- from me.  Still, a first class restaurant that holds true to vegetarian principles strikes me as pretty “California only”.

Lastly, Friday night Gail and I, and Iris Libby and Gail Everett, went to Blowfish-Sushi to Die For before the theater.  This is an ultra-hip, hyper-modern sushi bar not at 2170 Bryant, San Francisco.  They don’t actually have blowfish on the menu (it’s hard to get, hideously expensive and often fatal if incorrectly prepared), but what they do have is spectacular.

Blowfish is not you quiet local sushi bar–the music is loud and techno, the televisions are showing Anime cartoons in Japanese, the waitstaff are young, cool and heavily tattooed.

Two Gails with a plate of sushi

Sushi without the Gails

Here’s an excerpt from a review I found online:

It is imperative to order Chef Ritsuo Tsuchida’s signature appetizer: the “Ritsu Roll“. Slices of a seaweed-wrapped roll of tuna, avocado and tobiko are lightly seared and served with Ponzu sauce and a dipping sauce presented in a martini glass. It seems to be everyone’s favorite. Seeing me scribble in my Hello Kitty notebook, the waitperson came out with some delicious, special, hot appetizers from the chef. The standout for us was the “Mamahasu” – mouthwateringly tender eggplant and zucchini cooked in a yellow miso sauce and shaped inside a five-pointed star made of zucchini that was garnished with edible, purple pansy petals. We also enjoyed a sea bass served with both a red and a white wine sauce, with fruit, nuts and lotus roots.

Presentation is everything. The food is beautiful to look at and the flatware and glasses are very stylish. We enjoyed the hip look of the wait staff including one raven-haired beauty with tattooed arms and silver glitter tights. The action has been hopping every time I’ve been in, so reservations are a must.

Now on to our sushi rolls. A big winner was the “Super Dynamite” roll: hamachi, sake and green onion, wrapped in sushi rice, lightly fried, and topped with a spicy, Unagi chili sauce. Heat was also in effect with the delicious “Blowfish Eye” roll: tuna, flying fish eggs, and cucumber with warm, curried tempura, and a “Spider Roll” which contained warm soft-shell crab. Salmon lovers will enjoy the “Menage a Trois“: salmon, salmon skin, ikura, and tobiko. Vegetarians can enjoy the “Popeye Roll” featuring spinach with peanut sauce.

The Super Dynamite roll the author is talking about was so good that Gail & Gail had 2 of them.  It’s too spicy for a sissy like me, but I did some serious damage to the rest of the menu.  There’s a reason this place gets a Michelin star–and it’s only a few blocks from Z Space theater, making it a perfect place before or after the show.

So in the course of 10 days I invited a man and his husband to dinner, dined at an excellent vegetarian restaurant and then had raw fish and seaweed at another place.  My Brooklyn grandparents wouldn’t understand any of this–I’m a California boy now.