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Pho Forager
Yay, Kirk! Thanks for joining us, this is just the sort of writing I'd hoped for, expert and educational. One of these days I hope you'll teach me the ins and outs of beef tendon. -- NW— January 12, 2011 8:50 p.m.
Another Man Done Gone from El Bizcocho
JS Mama: I know that Judd Canepari was the exec chef for the whole property. But with no chef de cuisine at El Biz for what, about a year? after Steven Rojas fled, that would leave him with major responsibility for the food at El Biz, the flagship restaurant. True, I can't confirm that the entire kitchen staff was laid off and replaced, I merely got that info from an "unnamed" food industry source who should know (hence the snipe about out-sourcing to India). That is by no means the worst industry gossip I've heard about RBI's financial condition. By the way, I stayed there one night on a special "dinner and a room" bargain. Next day, I HAPPILY fled to the cheap Hindu-run South Escondido motel where I usually stayed for eataramas in north inland -- quieter, nice woodsy view facing rooms in back, much bigger, airier room, and no kiddies shrieking in the pool. But I still love El Biz at heart. I've never had a bad meal there, revolving door or no. POSSE DAVE: Hey, Dave, been meaning to call you. My excuse: finally getting my flood-ravaged flooring replaced with laminate by Juan y Juan son dos -- mainly Juan Carlos, son of gardener Juan. Taking forever, often gets in the way so I'm always in an emergency -- last minute grab some eaters and run. Half the places you mention with solid long-term chefs are actually chef-owned. That's always the ideal, because if the chef owns it, he can't slouch or he'll lose it.— December 19, 2010 6:51 p.m.
No Cigar for Craft and Commerce
Mea culpa! (as it were). The intense anchovy sauce at Zingerman's that I identified by its ancient Latin name, garum, is nowadays called Colatura by the Neapolitans who bottle it. Costs $17 for a 100-ml bottle but keeps until ancient in the fridge. More frugal in the long term than opening a whole can of anchovies just to use a little shot in a Pasta Puttanesca or a frutti di mare spaghetti. (Though I do wonder if nam pla or nguoc manh might possibly work as well.)— November 28, 2010 9:08 p.m.
San Diego Copper Chimney Food Truck
Wow, what a find you've made, Tin Man! This sounds like it might even be the best Indian food in SD -- the soulfulness of the South, but not purely vegetarian here. I wish I'd found this, I'm so envious. I love that they bring southern spicing into even a northern dish like chicken biryani. I ate superb dinners in Southern India because (even at small, unsung little restaurants -- I fell in love with the grandly named but down-home Oberoi Bar in funky funky Ernakulam) the cooks brought southern spices and flavors to the familiar, blander northern dishes. Sole quibble: The way to spell what you called "idly" is "iddli." Or "idli." Rhymes with "Bo Diddli." Do I win $5 now from Typo Patrol?— November 10, 2010 4:59 p.m.
With Candice and Da Man at Izakaya Sakura
The print edition had an error in identifying the fish in the photo. That's what our photog called "holy mackerel!" -- the Spanish mackerel sashimi, ooh, so yummy. The print caption identified it as smelt, a much tinier fish. Lynne ate the head of the smelt. I took the head of the mackerel. Fish swim in schools, so I went to the head of the class.— November 10, 2010 4:32 p.m.
White truffles! and other news that's fit to chew
Hi, it's me again. King's just informed me that it has been indeed a bad year for lobsters here, and they don't have any yet. If interested, give them a call in about a month to see if the situation has improved. -- Naomi— October 28, 2010 4:12 p.m.
That's Enfoodtainment at Searsucker in the Gaslamp
As noted in the boilerplate, the website was a mess when I checked it out, not yet ready for prime time, but I told the management about it and they promised to fix it. If it's cool now -- that might be because they miraculously "discovered" the website was a mess.— October 20, 2010 6:23 p.m.
Thursday Night Fever at West Coast Tavern
My bad! Really! I used to bank at a bank branch on 30th St, but its parking lot was subsumed by the new parking garage -- and at that time, the parking fees were outrageous! (Can't remember if it was $8 or $12, but the price rivalled the goniffs (ladrones) of the Gaslamp. Stopped using that bank branch forevermore. Well, apparently they've lowered the parking price considerably (although still too high for one minute at the ATM) -- but the main thing is, I should have checked the current fee, and didn't, and also the validation data. I do have some excuses (would you accept 13,000 words due RIGHT THEN in a 3-week period because of the Restaurant Issue?) -- but still, I SHOULD have called to check, and to check validation policy.) Maxima mea culpa, and I'm sorry for people trying to park in your driveway. On the other hand, I find the lamb sliders just very good (not "killer") and the pork slider so-so, and I don't care much about fries unless they're really extraordinary. As for my ironic reference to white polyester disco suits, you may be taking life too seriously -- and evidently, John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever" and "Stayin' Alive" came out before you were born. (Personally, I stick to natural fibers, haven't worn anything poly since the death of disco.) And since I'm old enough to remember those movies, I'm also old enough to have eaten considerably more "killer" lamburgers and fries over the course of life. Oops, guess I'm getting snide again. As the scorpion said to the frog as they crossed the river, "it's my nature.")— October 8, 2010 9:13 p.m.
Sessions Public, a New Brave-Heart Gastropub in Ocean Beach
Oh, gosh, no -- I started out saying how much more I trust Chowhound than most foodblobs (meaning especially that very huge unnamed one that starts with a Y and sounds like a hound getting kicked in the slats.) But pleeeeze -- there's only so much I can eat at a meal! (Plus that nasty little cut in my restaurant budget makes me as stingy as a French fishwife -- oops, mes apologies aux toutes les marinieres, how aboutI say a Scottish farmer instead -- och! Nae harm intended!). What was meant was: with only so many dishes I could order, I chose Dave's recommendations over those of people I don't know because he's a friend and we've eaten together, and I think the world of his palate. Wouldn't you do the same? Might have done the same with a post by Honkman, or by Kirk (both of whom I know only from their excellent posts). No slap on the other Hounders intended.— September 8, 2010 1:59 p.m.
You're Not in Guaymas Anymore
Hey, refried: No, I didn't personally know the victims. The UT covered the story extensively and in depth, including interviews with the family. The perps were later caught and (even!) jailed, not to mention fired. I don't love the UT, but the story was very believable in light of the aftermath -- and in light of my own experiences. Back when I was young, fit and reasonably attractive, knocking around Latin America, I learned that merely leaving my hotel by myself to stroll in the square in the early evening -- not just in Mexico (and never in DF, where I've always felt like I was back home in NYC) but also in slumdog downtown Lima and lowland towns of southern Peru -- was apparently considered sufficient sexual provocation. (Oops, forgot to wear my burka!) Screaming like a banshee, fighting like destroyer-goddess Kali, running like Atalanta --I always escaped by the skin of my teeth, thanks to good people coming to my rescue. In Merida, there was a drug-addled rapist (who worked at a travel agency next to the big old cheap hotel in the central square where I was staying, along with several other hippie chicks) who tried raping a gringa just about every night. I learned from my fellow hippies -- never, never, never try to report it to the Mexican police. Their attitude was (from an earlier victim's direct report) that if somebody tried to rape you, you'd provoked them to it. I know you love TJ, Refried, but I find the rape story absolutely credible, not only because of the UT reports, but out of my own experience. The cops are underpaid and hungry and want to enjoy their bit of power. I have other stories in this vein, centering not on rape but on la mordida. And even if the rapist cops were jailed, plenty of "la mordida" cops are still out there, terrorizing people to collecte their bribes. Bordertowns are rough places anywhere. Give me Chiapas or Tehuantepec, where the indio men speak softly and shyly, and the women are friendly and aggressive in the mercados.— August 10, 2010 9:11 p.m.