Like mother never made
I wasn't fast enough to get a picture of the pie
Lunch today at Jack’s, in Pleasant Hill where the Left Bank used to be.
Being a healthy sort, I had a salad–their crispy Buffalo chicken salad, to be precise. Crispy chicken, lettuce, corn, beans, avocado. Ranch Dressing–they offer a spicy Buffalo ranch, but I passed because I’m a sissy when it comes to spicy/hot. The salad was entirely adequate, not great. Gail had a shrimp Louie, and spent much of her time picking out the large spines of the romaine lettuce.
Since I was still hungry, I asked if they had pie. Remember how every diner always had a plethora of fresh-baked pies, and the waitress would reel off your choices like a litany? “Apple, cherry, blueberry, boysenberry, custard, banana cream and peach”? Those days are gone. Jack’s, though, does offer the classic American apple pie ala mode, which is went for in a flash.
WOW!! Was that a good pie!! Warm flaky crust, apples still crisp and bursting with flavor, caramel sauce, French Vanilla ice cream. It’s the best pie I’ve had in years.
I’m happy now.
Not just plates and bowls
There are a lot of ceramic artists out there, and most of them throw pots and plates and bowls and cups. High class, artsy dinnerware. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s what people like and are willing to buy.
But then there are others, dedicated artists making art for its own sake, not because it pays the rent. And artists who do both, something to bring in income and something to express their artistic creativity. Tonight we went to a great show at For Mason of the non-dinnerware kind of ceramics art.
The Ceramics Annual of America show is a wonder of fine art–not a serving dish in sight. Work featured is cutting edge innovative, and spans a gamut from serious to whimsical. There was a performance artist eating a huge piece of chocolate and smearing much of it on his bare chest, but I don’t know what that had to do with anything ceramic or what it could possible mean.
We went to see the art, of course, and to meet with artists who have become friends of ours–Kevin Nierman, Michelle Gregor and Tuppy Lawson. Gail only wanted to bring home a couple of pieces…………
I’m not much of an art critic, so instead of writing more drivel I’ll include a large bunch of photos and let you see for yourself. If you like this stuff, hustle on over to Fort Mason all weekend and see the show, it’s about the best show you’ll ever find dedicated to ceramic sculpture. And it’s a good excuse to have fun with my new little pocket camera.
Just outside the front door, this piece is blazing flame into the city fog.
Michelle Gregor and her work
Another of Michelle's pieces
This artist is Natasha, and her work is very emotive and non-representational
More of Natasha's work
This seems very serious, but there's humor in there somewhere
I like this head. I don't know why, I just like it.
The plexiglass box isn't for safekeeping, it is part of the artistic statement about the limitations we put on ourselves and each other.
I like it. I don't understand it, but I like it.
Some of the art is very strange. This piece is suspended in mid-air.
Romance never dies
Two heads are better than one?
Not all the art is ceramic--the crowd is pretty interesting, too.
Tuppy Lawson. She also works at the Apple Store; the earbud earrings are in memory of Steve Jobs.
A book, pencil and photos, all ceramic. The ephemeral is made permanent.
Cant have an art show without a hipster
A woman turns into a two-headed giraffe. You can spend a long time looking at this and examining your feelings.
This is just too strange for me.
This guy just looked cool.
Edible Art
I can’t remember all the restaurants that have existed in the building in the middle of Lafayette where Kane Sushi now exists. There was one with cajun food that served a mean jambalaya, a bar where I could watch HBO fights, a couple of Italian joints.
Then came Kane, and maybe the constant change is over. I sure hope so, because I like this place.
Some sushi bars are rarefied and exclusive, with very high prices obsequious bowing service. Not here. Kane is a local place, working hard to keep families happy. Service is quick and efficient, the wine list is short but the menu is long. Too long, for me at least. The list of possible rolls covers both sides of a 14″ sheet in small print, and it’s darned hard to assimilate and decide. The walls are covered with posters the customers have made for their own favorite concoctions. Yes, I’m complaining because there is too much choice.
Once you make up your mind and pick something, though, the food is both tasty and beautiful.
California roll with tempura shrimp
Gyoza--the Japanese version of pot stickers, with much less dough on the outside.
Titanic roll--fried yellowtail and hot sauce
Prices are awfully reasonable for sushi. The food is good, the service is quick and friendly. It ain’t fancy, it’s just a great place for a quick plate of edible art.
Today’s happiness
A video going viral of a young woman, deaf from birth, who has had a hearing implant–and this is the moment that they turn it on.
Piperade
Out to dinner tonight in the City with Dick and Joyce Hart. We went to Piperade, a long established Basque place on Battery near Levi Strauss Plaza.
On a relatively warm evening, it would be great to sit at the tables in front
The facility is a stand-alone building, with an interesting atrium-like entrance. The floors are old wood, the walls are brick. Interior chandeliers are made of wine bottles. I like the look of the place, and appreciate the heavy tablecloths that help to deaden the sound. It’s noisy from the voices of the clientele, but not loud and harsh like so many more modern facilities are deliberately planned to be.
It’s certainly popular–we had an 8 pm reservation, and they were completely full when we got there, so we had to sit at the bar until a table full of diners left and they could reset. I offered to go stand politely behind some slowpokes, but they felt my help was unnecessary.
Eventually, a table appeared and we were seated. A goodly time later, the waitress showed up–she was decidedly the weak link tonight, she just wasn’t nearly as polished and professional as we have enjoyed at other places.
Flashback
Years ago, I played cards with Mike B. on Wednesday night. When he was working in Redwood City, we’d play there every other week, and have dinner before. (Alternate weeks we played in Oakland).
One night, we tried a Chinese place and had a garlic chicken dish so strong that Linda told me she could see clouds of garlic over the bed where Mike was sleeping.
Back to the restaurant
The previous comment was spurred by the soup I had tonight–garlic soup. I’ve heard of it , but this was the first time I have seen it on the menu. Basically a chicken stock with tons of garlic, an egg scrambled into the stock, chunks of bread, bacon, and rock shrimp added because it’s a fancy City restaurant and they have to justify the price. I completely enjoyed it, but I expect Gail will see clouds over me later.
Gail had the cream of cauliflower soup. (Do you pronounce that with a short i sound, or more like a long e sound caul-ee-flower? Gail and I dispute it. She’s a caul-ih-flower kind of girl. Opinions collected in the comments)
I had a strange experience tonight–the least exciting thing was the entreé. Joyce and I both ordered the steamed rockfish, and while there was nothing wrong with it, it just had no snap, no particular great flavor. It came on a bed of garlicky sauteéd spinach that was fantastic, but the fish itself was just bland and uninteresting.
Gail had what was billed as the veal stew, but it had precious little veal in it and a great deal of seafood–including mussels, which he doesn’t care for, and a large, in-the-shell, head-still-on prawn, which I had to peel for her. Crustaceans should be dismembered in the kitchen, not at the table by the hapless diners. Had the dish been properly described on the menu she likely would not have ordered it.
Piperade makes the entrees look cheaper by making the veggies separate. I ordered the potato and manchego gratin to split with Gail and enjoyed it. A 5 inch dish layered with sliced potato and manchego cheese then baked, it came to the table so hot it was hard to handle the first bite, but after it cooled a bit I made sure there were no leftovers.
The dessert menu had a couple of things that could have tempted me, but the service was so slow that I lost interest. Joyce and Dick had the flan, which looked pretty ordinary.
Piperade didn’t thrill me, as you can tell. There isn’t anything bad about the place, there just wasn’t anything extra good or special. San Francisco has too many really great and innovative restaurants to settle for ordinary.
Look at these shoes
We went to a gallery opening this afternoon in Benicia, for an artist named Stan Dann. The art wasn’t really to our taste, but I sure like his shoes.
I could dance in these.
A nice local place
There is a restaurant in the City that gets good reviews called 54 Mint, which we haven’t been to yet. Then a couple of days ago I heard that they opened a branch in Concord, in the shopping center at the corner of Oak Grove and Treat, next to Trader Joes. So tonight I took Gail and we tried it.
It isn’t anything fancy–a storefront in a strip mall. Their “patio” is 5 tables set on the sidewalk in front, bordering on the parking lot. They don’t have any overhead heating elements, but I expect that they will want to get them installed before the cooler weather sets in–they need the seating.
Inside, the design is strange because the kitchen area is larger than the dining area–easy for the cooks, but a waste of space. There is a counter where they put thing out at lunch, which is a very informal affair in this location, a hand-written menu board which we were completely unable to read, and seating for perhaps 35 inside.
They were quite busy when we got there at 6:45, but we managed to score a table because someone cancelled their reservation. I didn’t make a reservation, which I normally do, because they are not on Opentable–they use that system in San Francisco, but feel that the Concord outlet is too small to justify it.
Everyone who works there is Italian–like fresh off the boat Italian. The service is great and the accents make you think you’re in Rome. So, fortunately, does the food.
They don’t offer a simple house salad. Gail and I split the Caprese con Mozzarella di Bufala ($12), fresh tomato slices with pesto and a huge ball of exquisite fresh mozzarella. She didn’t think we could eat all that cheese, but it is so light and airy we had no problem at all.
Gail’s entreé was the Scaloppine di Vitello al Marsala di Sicilia con Ragu di Funghi e Polenta ($23), which is the Italian way to say Veal Scallopine with Marsala and mushrooms on polenta. I don’t cook much veal and absolutely NO mushrooms, so this was something she’s never going to get in our house. Gail loved it all; I tried a tiny bit of the polenta which was uncontaminated with mushroom, and it was great.
My dinner was the Fettucine al Pesto Trapanese ($15), which is advertised as including fresh tomatoes, but there were none present. Nonetheless, I love fettucine al pesto, and this was a good one. In an interesting twist most likely related to the market price of pine nuts, they make this pesto with almonds, which cost less than half what the traditional pignoli cost. The pasta tasted homemade, the pesto was perfect, I scarfed every bit of it.
The wine list is entirely Italian, as you might suppose. Whatever they gave Gail when she asked for “something like Savignon Blanc” seem to go down well. My iced tea was just fine.
So we like 54 Mint. It isn’t fancy, but it’s a great local place for a good Italian meal without much in the way of pretension. There are place mats instead of tablecloths, but the napkins are cloth. The silverware comes from IKEA, which is smart in this economy. We’ll be going there again.
I can’t take a shower
….without hearing my mother’s voice saying “Wash behind your ears.”
What is it about mothers and the space behind the ears? Doesn’t seem like a real dirt collector to me. I’ve never understood the emphasis.
But I wash, just the same.
Mom would be so proud.
How to anger the fan base
Looking at Facebook this afternoon I see this silly post:
A photographer is only as good as the equipment he uses, and a good lens is essential to taking good pictures! Do any of our facebook fans use any of the NIKKOR lenses? Which is your favorite and what types of situations do you use it for?
I have the good fortune to have a very good Nikon camera and some lenses, but if my photos are good, it’s because I have learned a bit about how to make good photos. And when my photos are bad, it’s because I’m not good enough, not because I need to spend another $10,000 on equipment. Spending money on classes and workshops would improve my photos vastly more than any new machinery would.
Gail’s daughter Kate takes great photos with her iPhone.
Hemingway wouldn’t have written better if he had better pencils.
If I had the best golf clubs in the world and Tiger Woods had a $10 set from St. Vincents, bet on Tiger.
So Nikon has managed to offend a huge number of aspiring photographers, both hobbyist and professional, with this silly, self-serving post. Isn’t there anyone in their marketing department with a lick of sense? Why do companies do these things?
Missed it
My last post was my 500th. I thought I’d write something trenchant about blogging, but then forgot the count and wrote about the play we saw last week.
So I’ll celebrate with my 501st post.
Blogging is fun, mostly. Sometimes it feels like work, like I have an obligation to write whether or not I have anything to say. But then I usually have something to say about the state of the world or the price of tea in China, so the words flow out.
I spend much of my life grousing about the sorry state of politics in this country, but don’t bring it into the blog too much–there are people who write political blogs all day every day and they do it better than I can. If you see something political here, it’s because it is just too blatant or outrageous to overlook, or because the politicians have done something hilarious. There’s less of that with Sarah Palin hiding out wherever she is cowering, not answering any of the questions the new book about her raises. I hope she stays there.
Blogging about bridge lost it’s allure quickly as I ended up in constant fights with people who wanted to control what I write. So I don’t.
Blogging about restaurants and theater continues to be enjoyable, except when I can’t put my thoughts into good enough words, like the last post, for instance. I’ll take any excuse to go to the theater, and Gail would eat dinner out every night of the week, so I get plenty of opportunity to practice.
There is a never ending stream of bad customer service to feed my other main line of writing–just how bad companies can treat their customers without going out of business. Once in a while I get to write about the smart ones and how well they take care of me, but that happens far too rarely.
This is the point where some authors get busy pandering to the audience saying “this is your blog, too.” Well, it isn’t. I write it, you read it, that’s the social contract here. I love comments, I wish there were more of them. If you have ideas, let me know. Just be prepared for my often crusty and contrarian view.
Hey, that’s why I get the big bucks. Or no bucks at all, but it’s kind of nice to have a job I can’t be fired from.
So thanks for reading, I’ll try not to get solipistic again until I hit 1000 posts.
Totally Unauthorized 