and the answer is...

So....what is this paradoxical creature?

The answer is,

the spine from a tamarind pod!

After you remove the hard shell from the tamarind, and then lift out the sticky meat surrounding the pods, you are left with the "spine" that provided the structural integrity of the pod. Looks scary on its own, doesn't it?

what am i?

What is this spindly thing?

Take a guess, and I'll post the answer in a few days!

the silver palate molasses cookies

Molasses cookies, why so glum? Too often, they are dismayed at having to share the same display case or cookie box with their more conspicuous and highly-celebrated counterparts. Enter the usual suspects- the chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, snickerdoodle, white chip macadamia, peanut butter, even that short-lived seasonal cookie; the molasses lives in the shadows of such touted favorites. Perhaps the heady, bold flavors and spice of the molasses are a bit overwhelming for some. Or maybe what ruined it was there was just one too many commercial "ginger molasses crisps" out there that tasted and looked more like hardtack than a cookie. I was guilty of such intimidations; as a child, faced with the decision between a buttery shortbread cookie and a dark, lackluster molasses, the choice was obvious.

My first eye-opening experience, or rather, tastebud-opening, with the molasses cookie actually involved a Starbuck's. After ordering a PB cookie, I was mistakenly given the molasses, and reluctantly I nibbled. I remember the immediate sweetness, not cloying, but deep and rich, like a good caramel. The cloves and cinnamon hit my palate next, spicy, but balanced out by the tons of butter that'd probably been used for the dough. This entire time, I had been missing out. Perhaps it was a sign that I was entering adult cookie-dom, no more frosted sugar cookies or animal crackers (but don't count on it).

Since then, I've always enjoyed making different versions of the molasses cookie- some recipes use ginger, others less but with more cinnamon and allspice; playing with the dough to get the right texture also took a few trials to get right. I've eaten my way through thin and crispy, soft and chewy, soft and cakelike, and stick-to-your-teeth chewy. One of my favorite versions, that produces consistent results time and again, is a recipe from The Silver Palate Cookbook. According to the book, these cookies are one of their most popular treats. I strongly concur, as everytime I've made these large, saucer-like cookies, they turn out deliciously rich, spicy, and nuanced with flavor. Crispy around the edges, with a chewy center, just the way I like.

Nowadays, more often than not, I'll choose the molasses over any old chocolate chip, and especially if they're homemade. What it lacks in flamboyance, it makes up for with personality. That alone, should sell itself.

Molasses Cookies
from The Silver Palate Cookbook

12 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
1/4 molasses
1 egg
1 3/4 cups flour
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
2. Melt the butter, and add in sugar and molasses.
3. Lightly beat the egg and add to the butter mixture, blending well.
4. Sift the dry ingredients together, and add to the butter mixture. (It will look wet.)
5. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.
6. Drop the batter by heaping tablespoons onto the cookie sheet, 3 inches apart (they will spread out).
7. Bake 8-10 minutes, until the cookies darken.
8. Remove parchment from cookie sheet, and let the cookies cool on the paper, or a rack.

jian bing: beijing street food

Ever since I was little, my parents treated street food in Beijing like the bad boy in high school; they barred me from even getting within a 10 feet range, they covered my eyes, telling me how it was dirty, cheap, and would give me unwanted health problems. Like the ever-obedient child that I was, I listened, though a longing built up in my gut everytime I walked down a small sidestreet and spied one of those pushcarts. Sure, at one point, these mobile vendors would have been a health inspector's worst nightmare (or dream) with the number of health codes they were violating. But nowadays, the situation is much better, as more sanitation laws and requirements have been put in place.

My first tryst with the popular Beijing street food known as jiān bǐng happened one hot summer morning when I was deemed by my family just old enough to start going out on my own. The cart that I remembered from summers past had upgraded to a small dimly-lit store front window, where customers lined up, shouted out their orders, paid and watched the young boy in the window as he whipped up a steaming hot crêpe in under one minute. As the morning rush of nannies, housewives, bicyclists going to work pushed past me to pick up a quick breakfast, I inserted myself at the back of the quickly moving line. Nervous and wide-eyed, I wasn't sure how to order. There wasn't a menu posted overhead, no pictures, nothing. This was Beijing street food at its best- for everyday people, not hyped up for tourists. Mustering up my confidence, I pointed to the dark crêpe batter, raised my finger to indicate one, and said "I'll have everything." I handed over my ¥2 (about $0.25 at the time) and excitedly watched through the fogged-up glass as my jiān bǐng was expertly made.

He wiped off the circular griddle with a towel, and ladled out some of the dark batter, spreading it out with a wooden tool. Paper thin at the edges, the crêpe instantly cooked up as it hit the smoking hot griddle. With a flick of the wrist, he cracked open an egg right on top of the crêpe, breaking up the yolk with the same tool, and sprinkling on a mixture of scallion and cilantro. With the egg still somewhat runny, he flipped the crêpe in one fell swoop, and brushed on two sauces on the other side, one hoisin, the other a spicy chili paste. The final element in this process is what jian bing is best known for- the crispy-fried rectangular cruller that gets placed inside. The edges of the crêpe are then folded in to form a steamy package of egginess, slid into a filmy plastic bag, and was handed over to me. All this in less than a minute. As I stepped away, the boy was moving onto making another crêpe, one of the many hundreds more he'd made that morning.

With that first bite with my nose and face buried into that warm baggie, I was hooked. The crêpe part was nutty, which I later discovered I'd ordered the buckwheat batter. The egg was wonderfully hashed in with the crêpe, spicy and sweet from the mixture of sauces. The addition of the scallion and cilantro gave it a cooling and fragrant freshness, with an added bit of crunch. I particularly enjoyed the thin fried dough hiding inside, which had wilted down from the heat, but gave the jian bing a degree of richness. (This is the same dough as used in Chinese fried crullers.) It was chewy and warmly satisfying, proof that a well rounded breakfast doesn't have to be eaten sitting down. Little did I know it, this was the beginning of an addiction, but at least an affordable one.

In subsequent years, everytime I visited Beijing, my internal jiān bǐng clock would rouse me at sunrise, driving me downstairs to the stand I knew and loved so well. The owners must have been doing well, since they expanded their morning selections to all sorts of savory and sweet pastries, steamed and stuffed buns, and warm soymilk and silken tofu (dou fu nao), another one of my morning favorites. In later years, they raised their prices to a shocking ¥2.5 ($0.35), which is actually a big increase for locals, who remember the days of ¥1 ($0.15) crepes.

I've never tried to make these in my own kitchen; I know it could never be the same. Not just in terms of the ingredients and equipment, but I'd be missing so much than that- my expectant grandparents upstairs nervously awaiting my return, the buzz of the morning working class, hungry and slightly edgy, the excitement of biting into a once-forbidden food, and the experience of eating from a plastic bag, while walking down a Beijing alley that was just coming alive with the day's first light.

There are hundreds of jian bing operators and vendors scattered all throughout Beijing, but you must hit the streets early, as it is a breakfast item. (Though now, you can probably find them sold to tourists at larger night markets.) There are the usual batters- white, mung bean, and buckwheat, and the toppings are the same from vendor to vendor. Prices will range from ¥2 to ¥3.

Illustration from Luxuryeats.com

cinnamon sugar bites

Oftentimes, when I bake large layer cakes, I'll set aside a little bit of the cake batter to make myself a few treats, as a reward. I fill up a couple of slots in my mini-cupcake pan, sprinkle on a topping of choice for the day, and stick them in the oven. They're usually done a lot sooner than the cake layers, so I nibble on these as I wait. It's a good way to taste for anything inconsistent in your cake batter as well.


Toppings in the past have included mini chocolate chips, fresh sliced apples and peaches, leftover streusal topping, and cut-up candy bars. Today, I made a quick cinnamon-sugar, using equal parts of both, and generously sprinkled the tops of my mini cakes with the mixture. As soon as they were ready, I rolled them warm, in the remaining mixture for some added sweetness.

Lesson of the day: from one baker to another- don't ever forget to treat yourself first!

thai seafood tamarind salad

If you take away anything today from this post, I urge you to try the tamarind dressing, as it's simple, and can dress up any lifeless pile of greens and veggies. It is especially good with seafood. The tamarind is tangy and earthy all at the same time.

tamarind pods

I call this my "cold pad thai salad", as for the dressing/marinade, the ratio of fish sauce to tamarind pulp to sugar is the same as in the famous fried noodle dish. Without the heat, this salad makes for a light, refreshing summer dinner, on those nights when you just don't want to turn on the stove. If you happen to have leftovers from a seafood bake or the grill, this is a good way to use it up. I roughly chopped up about 1 cup of leftover steamed shrimp, lobster claw and scallops for this salad.

Thai Seafood Salad with Tamarind Dressing

Salad:
1 cup steamed/grilled seafood (shrimp, scallops, lobster, crab, fish filets), chilled
2 medium cucumbers, slivered
1 carrot, slivered
1 red onion, slivered
heaping handful of bean sprouts
2 rolls Asian vermicelli noodles (also called bean thread noodles)
crushed peanuts
roughly chopped cilantro and scallion, for garnish

Dressing:
3 Tbsp tamarind pulp
3 Tbsp fish sauce
3 Tbsp palm sugar/granulated sugar/or natural cane sugar
juice of 1 lime
1 Tbsp freshly grated ginger

1. Soak the dried vermicelli noodles in hot water until they are soft and pliable. Drain and put into the salad mixing bowl. Add the rest of the salad ingredients, except for the peanuts. Chill in the refrigerator while making the dressing.

2. For the dressing: Combine tamarind pulp, fish sauce and sugar in a microwave-safe container. Heat on high for 1 minute. Stir and let cool to room temperature. The mixture will be slightly thickened at this point. Stir in the lime juice and ginger.

3. When the dressing is completely cooled, add it to the salad and toss together. Garnish with the crushed peanuts, extra bean sprouts and/or cilantro.

nature's palette

Behold the beauty of an avocado. There are still times when I catch my breath at the sight of some ripe, intensely hued piece of nature's fruits. An avocado is one such creature, dark and scaly on the outside, ripe with color when you twist to expose the creaminess within.

My little gems from my garden also made me do a little dance today.


Like red rubies poking out from underneath the thicket of vines and leaves.

For breakfast today, I made myself soft-scrambled eggs with slices of avocado, along with a bowl of strawberries from the garden, and a pot of homemade yogurt with cherries.

I'm addicted to this stuff.

culture club: make your own yogurt

What's happened to the dairy aisle of our supermarkets? It's as if a lipo machine came through and sucked the fat out of all that yogurt, replacing it with stabilizers, thickeners and artificial sweeteners. It seems nowadays we're more concerned with the bacteria (and how it can reduce our bloated waistlines) in our yogurt than how it actually tastes.

Yogurt is one of the oldest, and most ubiquitous, foods in the history of civilization. It dates back to over 4000 years ago, somewhere in the desert, in a nomad's leather satchel that carried his day's supply of milk. There, a wild culture started to grow, and curdled the milk, transforming it into a tangy and nutritious drink. What a happy accident.

One of the foods I miss most from China is the yogurt. Unlike yogurt in the U.S., the Chinese kind is only subtly sweet and most brands that you'll find in the supermarket are full fat, instead of skim or lowfat. I'm not certain if the better taste is due to a difference in the milk quality (different feed, treatment, processing, etc) or perhaps a difference in the bacterial cultures used. There is just a completely different mouth feel to Chinese yogurt. It's also tangy in a different way, more subtle and rounded, less acidic. There is a deeper, richer milk flavor that lingers much longer on the palate, than the American counterpart that's heavily masked with sugars/sweeteners and artificial flavorings.

If you're not a fan of runny yogurt, like kefir, then you probably wouldn't like the yogurt in China. Due to its more drinkable nature, yogurt is normally drunken through a straw. It is sold in small plastic tubs, half-liter size containers, or plastic pouches (like Capri-Sun) and always comes with a plastic straw for your poking pleasure. I actually got strange looks from people once as I was eating my tub of yogurt with a spoon! During the summer, they're sold from umbrella-ed carts and snackshops by department store entrances in ceramic pots. You're asked to drink it in the vicinity and return the empty pot to the vendor when finished.

To answer the lactose-intolerance question, dairy products in China are becoming more and more popular due to their nutritional benefits. Most lactose intolerant folks can still eat yogurt since a majority of the lactose sugar from the milk is eaten by the bacteria culture present and therefore removed . Regular milk is more popular with the younger generation, but is no where near consumed with the same rapaciousness as in the U.S. In fact, the Chinese often never drink cold milk straight; they usually heat it to get rid of some of the gamey flavors. Drinking warm milk with a piece of white sandwich bread has become quite common at the Chinese breakfast table nowadays. Unfortunately, there is still only one kind of cheese available- the cubed, spreadable kind that comes wrapped in foil. Bleh.

When I was in Beijing last month, I ate no fewer than 2 packages of yogurt a day. There were the familiar flavors- plain (sweetened), strawberry, blueberry, pineapple, peach, and then some not so common ones- sweet cucumber, aloe (very popular), kiwi, mulberry, and coconut, or any thereof in combination. At a mall food court, I once had a yogurt parfait with diced watermelon, mango and strawberry jam! With my yogurt-binging days quickly coming to an end, I knew there was only one thing I could do: bring back a culture to the U.S. and mass-produce my own simulation of Chinese yogurt. And that's exactly what I did. Without going into detail about the packaging, chilling and tranport of my live culture overseas, I'll just go right into the yogurt making process.

Making your own yogurt is simple, and frankly, more economical than buying from the supermarket. The other big advantage is that you know exactly what's going into it, pure and natural ingredients with no additives. For the recipe below, use a starter yogurt that is the most natural you can find. Look for the shortest ingredient list on the back, with no pectin, artificial additives nor thickeners. I've had the greatest success with Liberté (from Canada) and my own personal overseas culture. I've heard that Stonybrook and Brown Cow work well too.

You will need:
1 quart whole milk
3-4 Tbsp sugar or honey (optional)
1 small tub of high quality, plain yogurt

Equipment:
heavy-bottom pot, big enough to contain all the milk
thermometer
1 large glass jar or several smaller glass jars
cooler
plastic or metal spoon (not wooden)

Make sure all the equipment is sanitized before you start. Run the jars through the dishwasher and clean all other equipment with dishsoap and water.

Heat the milk in the pot until it hits a temperature of 180F, no more. Take the pot off the burner and let cool to about 115F. Stir in the sugar/honey and tub of yogurt. Pour into your jar(s) and cap off.

Place the jar(s) into a cooler. Fill a quart size bowl or tupperware container with hot (almost boiling) water and place in the cooler too, some distance away from the jar containing the milk. Close the cooler and let incubate for 8 hours.

The yogurt will be thick and should smell tangy. There will be visible curds at the top of your yogurt; this is the residual whey. You can mix it into the yogurt or skim it off. If there's anything funky growing, or if it smells off, throw out the batch and start anew.

After the yogurt is fully chilled, it's time to dig in. As you stir it, you'll notice that the yogurt has a thinner consistency than commercial types. This is because you've added none of those starchy thickeners. At this point, you can strain it over night for a Greek-style yogurt or just eat it with some fruit and honey as is!

I ate mine with cherries and sliced white peaches mixed in.
The whole milk really makes a world of difference in the taste. Though it wasn't exactly like the yogurt from China that I remembered and was so fond of, in many ways it was better. They say that the experience of travel is constantly measured against and colored by memories of home, but for me the exact opposite is true. My home cooking is oftentimes heavily influenced by what I have seen and tasted from across the world. My little kitchen at home probably has traveled to as many places as I have, at least from a culinary standpoint; acting as witness to my many whims and creations from ideas picked up abroad. Despite my best efforts at recreating dishes from afar, the experience can never fully be recaptured; it's never the same. And so, though my yogurt tasted similar, but not quite exactly the same as to the original, I am still content in knowing it's distinctively my own.

last day in sf

For the past year or so, I've been on a sourdough kick. I've committed myself to a mission of tasting as many sourdough breads as possible, in the ultimate search to find my top three. This also goes for baguettes too. As expected, I've had better luck with baguettes than with sourdoughs. There are just many more baguettes out there in circulation; more to taste and choose from. So far the sourdough that I like the most comes from Atwater's (in Baltimore), called San Francisco Sourdough. The crust is perfectly scored, crispy/crunchy each time, with a chewy and tangy interior, and just the right size of air pockets.

Since I've heard so many wonderful things about Acme Breads in the Bay area, for breakfast, I picked up a loaf of their sour batard, some butter, and local strawberries. The crust was impressive and quite memorable, golden and crunchy, and resounding when you rapped on it. The inside had small air pockets (I would have preferred a less dense and meaty white part), but the gluten was well-developed and had a good chew. It turned out to be only mildly sour which was disappointing, but I still had no trouble in eating half a loaf by myself. The butter helped too.

I grew up eating a lot of Russian sourdough bread, the kind made with rye and wheat flours, sometimes weighing up to 10 pounds, so my personal preferences point me to a tangier version.

Acme's batard was definitely better than many loaves I've tasted. I also don't mind Boudin's small sourdough boule-type loaves, as opposed to their larger ones which lack flavor. The bread bowl in which they serve their signature clam chowder and their egg dishes for breakfast is the kind I like, with a nice crust and chewy center. If anyone knows of some amazing sourdoughs in the city, please let me know, and you'll be my friend for life.

Since I had a flight to catch that evening, Mr.S and I had a quick dinner at Chaat Cafe across the street from his place. CC is known for their affordable and filling array of Indian street food, snacks and wraps. Instead of getting a samosa, we shared the papri chaat- thick, homemade fried-dough chips smothered with chickpeas, cubes of potato, tamarind chutney and yogurt. There was way too much gloopy yogurt involved, and not enough chutney, nor chickpeas. I also missed the usual sev that's sprinkled on top.

Overall it was alright, but I missed the version served at Mehek.

The tikka masala rolls were two huge bhaturas stuffed with stewed chicken tikka masala. The bhaturas were good, lightly fried, which made them warm and poofy. Though the chicken tasted good, it was very greasy, and hardly used any white meat. And since they were so big, I had to knife and fork it.

You also get a choice of cucumber salad or spicy potato salad with your wrap. My watery cucumbers had lost their crispiness and were surprisingly, really heavy on the black pepper. Mr.S's potatoes were more like a scoop of cold mashed potatoes than a salad. The predominant herb was actually dill. Is this an Indian herb?

His desi chicken wrap was spicy tandoori chicken and veggies wrapped in baked naan. It tasted very much like my own, just with slightly more tomatoes, onion, and peppers. Again, it looked greasy, but the flavors were spicy and pretty good.

There's not much to complain about. For $7 a piece, the portions were monstrous. I hardly finished even one of my wraps. The quality of the ingredients is so-so, but when you're starving, that aspect doesn't seem to matter much as does taste and portion. Like a reliable gas station, Chaat Cafe is a good place to get filled up. (And your daily requirement of spice.) Next time, I'll probably stay away from the wraps, and just order an array of their chaat and pakoras.

new favorite thai

Fillmore at Broadway

We found one of our favorite views of the city tonight. At Fillmore and Broadway, if you look out across the Marina, you can see the sprawl of the northwestern part of SF, and the Golden Gate bridge. We stopped there for a few minutes as the sun was setting, which gave the sky a beautiful gradient of hues.

Heading north, we started looking for a dinner spot. Mr.S has had nothing but raves about Osha, a modern Thai restaurant, so we stepped into their Union St. location, one of 5 branches across the city. It had that uber-trendy lounge feel to it as you walked in, mixed with the exoticism from the decor and the spices that permeated the dining area. The interior had a clean, uncluttered aesthetic to it, and incorporated a lot of white lucite furniture everywhere. It felt like we were in some sort of modern, Asian space capsule.

There's a strong pan-Asian influence to the menu, blending traditional Thai dishes with ones distinctly Japanese, Indian and Vietnamese. I always go into such restaurants now with reservations, somewhat lowering my expectations, simply because I've had one too many overly-sweet, fish sauce-saturated meals.

To start, there were a few choices that sounded pretty tasty- crispy tofu with sweet sour plum dipping sauce, Angel Wings (fried chicken wings in a homemade sauce with crispy basil), Thai samosas, and beef wasabi rolls. I let Mr.S choose since he'd been here plenty of times before. The beef wasabi rolls arrived at our table a few minutes later, 5 rolls, each sitting in a small pool of wasabi sauce and chopped watercress.



It was a sensory explosion. The beef, tender and well-grilled, tasted much like Korean bulgoki with strong notes of sesame oil and soy. It was stuffed with slivers of crunchy carrot, celery and mint. The best part was the wasabi sauce which infiltrated every corner and crevice of my sinuses, making me tear up and choke back a cough. It was awesome. I couldn't stop going back for more. The thing about good food is that you're willing to endure just about any amount of physical pain to get it.

Usually always ordering some type of curry dish or fried noodles at Thai restaurants, this time I opted for the grilled sea bass lettuce cups. (Though the Kabocha squash curry looked excellent as well... next time.) My plate came with only one medium filet of sea bass, but it's ok since it was an appetizer salad. The kitchen was generous with the sides of diced mango, red and green peppers, red onion, ginger and lemongrass, and roasted peanuts. Each piece of bibb lettuce was layered with a small square of rice sheet. The spicy cilantro dipping sauce was wonderfully aromatic, sweet, sour and spicy all at once, reminisent of a similar Indian green chutney made with cilantro and lime juice.



The flavors married together perfectly, like a concert in my mouth, there was just so much going on with taste and texture. I love sea bass for its high oil content. Its butteriness was nicely complimented by all the spice and acid from the all the sides. Not once did I lift my head to talk to Mr.S; that's the sign of a very happy me enjoying my meal.

I was offered a bite of Mr.S's spicy sweet chicken with basil. It was deeply flavored, and I liked how Osha uses a roughly ground chicken, instead of chicken slices, in this dish. The smaller pieces soak up the marinade much better and you can eat it with a spoon! (I love eating everything with a spoon; it's a comfort thing.)

I looked up after cleaning my plate, sighed and leaned back, completely satisfied. The food, not only was it heavily seasoned and delicious, it was fun, and stepped outside the box of traditional Thai. It incorporated elements of numerous types of Asian cuisine, not afraid to fuse different flavors and spices all in one dish. I like adventurous; I like flavor.

Osha also has a girl-friendly drink menu, perfect for a group of girlfriends out on a Friday night. There's a lychee martini that I'm waiting to try. Perhaps it will bump down Dragonfly's version down to number 2 on my awesome-lychee-martini list. There's also a green tea mojito that sounded interesting as well. I'm certainly counting the days until I go back again.

Osha Thai

2033 Union Street SF, CA 94110

back to SF, adventures continue

After spending the first half of the day in Yountville, Mr.S and I were welcomed back to a chillier, windier SF by that towering golden gate.

We hit up American Rag over by Van Ness and Sutter to do a bit of vintage browsing. I tried on a pair of faded red Tsubi jeans, but couldn't get my behind into them (damn those stick-thin Japanese girls); could've also been the massive French meal I'd just eaten at Bouchon too!

We then walked through Japantown to feed Mr.S's expensive addiction to Japanese stationery. At the Kintetsu/Miyako shopping center, a large complex of specialty shops and eateries, is the Kinokuniya bookstore with a vast collection of Japanese manga, magazines, books, stationery and toys. Inside the mall, there are small cafes and restaurants, including this creperie, Sophie's Crepes.
The fillings, all Japanese-inspired, range from red bean and green tea, to a standard Nutella and banana, to a savory ham, cheese and Kewpie mayo, to a seafood salad made with crabstick.

We also stopped by Nijiya Market, a small supermarket of all your Japanese culinary needs.

Whenever I find myself in an Asian market, I always buy a ton of snacks. They are just so damn cute! I can just picture those ad people sitting around a roundtable, discussing if a cartoon puppy on the cookie box should be winking or not. The pre-packaged sushi and cold salads in the cold case looked fresh and appetizing. We were also really impressed with their selection of green teas, loose and powdered. There was also a whole aisle filled with all flavors of mochi and daifuku. We checked out with a basket full of pan (filled sweet breads), boxes of cute cookies and Pocky, a strawberry crepe, sichimi (Japanese chili pepper mix), some toys, and green tea.

furano melon sweet roll- it tasted like honeydew

these little button cookies were a favorite of mine growing up; they're made of potato starch!

I got a case of the chills as we walked up Fillmore, so Mr.S suggested we stop in to get some hot chocolate at Bittersweet Cafe. This was by far one of the most extensive selections of artisanal chocolate bars I've seen. There was Bonnat, Michel Cluizel, Vosques, Amana, Valrhona, El Ray, Guittard, Scharffen Berger, and much more. The ambiance is dark and mellow, warm like a cup of chocolate. As to their drink menu, they had a good selection of hot chocolates, chocolate-espresso combos, chais, a chocolate Thai iced tea, and steamed milk. Trying to decide between the "Bittersweet," a deep chocolatey, non-dairy drink, and the "Spicy," a hot chocolate flavored with pepper, cinnamon and rose, I decided on the latter for its interesting blend of flavors.

Thick and luxurious, with a deep flavorful palate of spices, it was just the right sweetness. If we hadn't been searching for a restaurant, I'd probably have gotten one of their marshmallows or adorable mini pastries to snack on. We also noticed that they make their own granola, served up with some awesome toppings.

napa, day 3, bouchon overload

Needless to say, the morning after the wedding was a late start, involving a Starbucks run, and a happy decision to drive up to Yountville for some culinary TLC at Bouchon.

Yountville turned out to be a very small town, but full of big names, thus the touristy feel. We drove down Washington Street and within 2 blocks passed by Ad Hoc, Bistro Jeanty, The French Laundry and Bouchon. It was my first visit to Bouchon, and the original one too, and Mr.S's second time (his first was at the Vegas locale, which I also reviewed). Now, it was midday, the sun streaming in through the open veranda to light the mosaic floor tiling, and our lovely meal to come.

this baguette has handles for me to grab onto

The folded, brown parchment paper menus were set on our plates, like a map waiting to be pressed open, to depict French bistro classics. The trouble was, I wanted to taste everything! Our neat and prim waiter announced the lunch specials to be a salmon tartare with red onion, capers, and hard-boiled egg, a puree of sweet carrot soup, and a lamb tartine sandwich with pickled red onion and watercress. I didn't want to be left eating a half dozen oysters by myself (Mr.S doesn't eat them) especially for my first meal of the day. I was truly tempted by the terrine of foie gras, but at $47, seemed like too much of a lunchtime splurge. The steamed mussels in white wine ($27.50) that came in a lovely covered, earthenware tureen was also an option, as was the salmon tartare ($16.50) with a side of the macaroni au gratin ($6.50).

I chose from the list of fromages to start, a ripe and nutty cow's milk cheese called Sea Stack. Made by Mt. Townsend Creamery in Washington state, Sea Stack is wonderfully mild and creamy that it reminded me of a cross between a ripened brie and good, salted butter. Today it was served with slices of walnut bread, and a spiced peach and pecan chutney. If you don't already know it by now, anything creamy is my weakness, and by the way the slice of cheese was oozing out of its ashen shell, I was in fromage heaven. The peach was nice, but a tarter fruit like apple or pear would have helped to balance out the butteriness too.

Our server expertly de-crumbed our table and brought us our plats principaux- my lamb tartine and Mr.S's Croque Madame. Since his came with a heaping mountain of frites, I substituted mine for a side of ratatouille. (I was curious as to how Keller's version tasted since he was the consultant chef on the set of the namesake movie, Ratatouille.) Though I found it to be somewhat greasy, I still managed to finish it off without difficulty. A good flavoring of fresh herbs here. My lamb was the star of my meal, served chilled over toasted levain and a light shmear of aioli. The meat was tender and had no trace of gaminess, and paired well with the sour pickles and bitter watercress.

At some point during my lamb euphoria, I tasted a bite of Mr.S's cheesy, eggy sandwich. It was sweet and mild, being that the brioche was wonderfully decadent and buttery. The whole thing was moistened with a light, but creamy, Mornay sauce, and topped off with a fried egg. I liked the fries the most, because I remember the first thought I had when tasting them was that it reminded me of McDonald's fries. Is that uncouth of me?? (I don't much care, as they were frickin' awesome.)

mmm eggy

Satiated and content, we wobbled next door to Bouchon Bakery. How clever (and evil) to tempt customers as they walk out of Bouchon with a sweeter, chocolatier version of Bouchon!

The pastries were all a lovely, cohesive shade of crackling, golden brown, some stuffed with chocolate, others fruit, and others still with nuts and pastes. Lining the back wall was a selection of artisan breads; like if you hadn't had enough of their chewy, delicate baguette from lunch, take one home! Or eat it in the car... There was a case full of cookie-like things, another of cakes, and a few pre-made sandwiches. Boxes of truffles and biscotti were also for sale.

At $3 per cookie, I knew I'd be limited in my decision making. I knew I wanted to try certain ones, so that's what I bought- the famous TKO (Thomas Keller Oreo), his version of the Nutter Butter, and the French mararons. Since I've made the TKO at home before, I knew what it'd taste like, and honestly speaking, mine tasted better. This one was too large, and didn't have enough filling for the huge amount of cookie it was sandwiched between.

My favorite was the Nutter Butter. At about 4 inches in diameter, this was a hefty old thing, probably with a whole half stick of butter in each one! No complaints there! There were chunks of peanut in the cookie, which was a nice touch. The best part was the filling- it tasted like a peanut ganache, rich but not overly sweet.

I picked out 3 flavors of macarons- pistachio, caramel and raspberry. There was also chocolate and vanilla to choose from. The texture was perfect, crunchy exterior with a chewy center. However, the I found the taste to be lacking. They were very sugary and I had trouble tasting the pistachio and the caramel flavors. The raspberry, on the other hand, tasted artificial. I think I prefer a smaller, more poppable, size macaron as opposed to these larger ones (about 1.5"). The best macaron I've tasted yet was not in France nor in a French pastry shop, but from an upscale delicatessan in Madrid called Mallorca. (The raspberry tasted like raspberries, and it was buttery and light.)

pistachio macaron

Thank goodness Mr.S offered to drive back to San Francisco, seeing as I was comatose, from good food. All that Bouchon was good, but it seemed like a far way to go when you live in the city to come all the way out to Yountville. Especially when there are numerous French bistros and bakeries equally on par in SF, in terms of taste, service, and menu offerings. It was a tasty experience, and next time I'm out here in Y-ville, it'll be for dinner at the French Laundry!

Bouchon

6534 Washington Street

Yountville, CA 94599

Bouchon Bakery
6528 Washington Street

Yountville, CA 94599