Thanksgiving Cocktail

I just started drinking whiskey. At a fancy bar you can order off of the specialty menu, but at a merely decent bar your options are largely limited to "booze &" drinks. Rum & Coke, Vodka & Soda, Gin & Tonic. Unless you drink Manhattans. Because I'm new to bourbon and still have tastebuds and skin on my esophagus, I like them with a little extra cherry syrup.

At a recent work event, I was the first one at the bar (because I was setting up. And because I got priorities.) I ordered my Manhattan with a little extra cherry syrup, and got a very festive looking bright red cocktail. The red #4 in those Maraschino Cherries can withstand a few ounces of whiskey. After a few people mistook it for a Cosmo and were set straight, it became the drink of the evening.

But after going through a few jars of inedible Mezzetta Maraschino Cherries, just for their syrup, and even a jar of Luxardo, I wanted to make my own. Having missed the 3 week cherry season in San Francisco, I waited for cranberries to arrive instead. Well, it's November 8, and after confusing 3 Trader Joe's employees, I have them! Why not replace brandied cherries with brandied cranberries?

I took this NYTimes recipe for brandied cherries and the time estimates for this Food Network cranberry sauce.

Brandied Cranberries

1/2 c sugar
1/2 c water
2 whole cloves
1 2 inch piece cinnamon
3 allspice berries
1 8oz bag fresh cranberries
1/2 cup Cognac

1. Put spices into a tea bag*
2. Combine sugar, water, and spices in a small saucepan over medium heat and heat until the sugar dissolves
3. Add cleaned cranberries--they won't be submerged, and they float, so stir occasionally. Cook until they're softened, but only a few have popped
4. Remove the spices,^ and pour into a glass jar
5. Add the cognac and stir
6. Can be used when cool, but are better after a few days.

*These tea bags are good because they close with a flap like a sandwich baggie. Some brands don't close so you'd have to knot it or get clever.

^You can leave them in if you like that. My foray into Pumpkin Spice Lattes ended after 1 sip.

West Coast Harvard Cocktail

Now what to do with them? Sure, I could dive right into making Manhattans with my new red friends, but now I have this $38 bottle of Remy Martin Champagne Cognac (we chose it because it had the least ugly bottle of the 3 sold at TJ's. Yes, we opened to boxes to check.) and don't know what to do with it. To the internet! Searching "cognac cherry cocktail" led me to the Harvard Cocktail. A Manhattan's Sweet Vermouth and bitters and a pretentious name? Wonderful! I'm sure Increase Mather is turning in his grave, but we cobbled the drink together with what we had.

2 oz Cognac

1/3 oz brandied cranberry syrup

1/3 oz sweet vermouth

2 dashes Angostura bitters

• Shake with ice and serve in a coupe, with brandied cranberries. 

The First "Tearjerk of the Week"

Nothing better than a pup making the hell of travel a little brighter, but this adorable video was aided in bringing me to tears by reminding me of the mother of all cry-provoking campaigns, the WestJet Christmas Miracle.

The Original Small Plates

Kiss Seafood

1700 Laguna St

San Francisco, CA 94115

(415) 474-2866

Before Tapas came to epitomize small plates there was Japanese food.  Two pieces of Nigiri nestled on a plate.  Little bowls of miso soup.  Monkfish liver, three ounces worth, in a little glass dish.  Of course, as with all things from the fast food soft drink to the double-tortilla burrito, Japanese food has been supersized.  Bento boxes, udon specials covered in tempura, "Oh My God" rolls triple the size of the serving dishes and accommodate a new appetite.  But there are still places to get small plate sushi.

Kiss Seafood is as small as its plates.  In the space inside unadorned white walls, the restaurant seats eight at two tables and six at the sushi bar.  Edith Piaf sang her dedication to France as we pondered the menu and the specials, written on a sticky in Japanese.  Eventually, the four of us settled on the Special Omakase, the Omakase, a sashimi, and two appetizers.  I cannot begin to recount every quarter-cup dish of steamed, fried or raw fish, tender cooked vegetables, or tofu islands in lightly salted soups.  One highlight was the hamachi collar, crisp, lightly salty and fatty, without being greasy.  The abalone special in abalone liver sauce looked as unappetizing as it sounds--cubes covered in dark green mess--despite the plating in an abalone shell on a pile of fine salt.  However, it tasted fantastic, fresh and mild, with the satisfying chewy crunch of jellyfish and sea cucumber.  Of course the sashimi was so fresh that even the salmon and tuna tasted like new species, and during the meal, I began to plot how to seek out more giant clam in the future.  The egg custard had the beautiful, even consistency of silken tofu; one was adorned with mushrooms, the other with fish and bitter ginkgo nuts.  While it was not my favorite flavor wise, the minute differences between the two similar dishes shows the chef's skill.  The only thing that wasn't promptly finished and cleared was my complimentary amuse bouche.  Grainy soybean porridge with glass noodles and dried scallops is very similar to a Korean breakfast that I always avoid.  The waitress left it on the table for the rest of the meal--I think I may have hurt her feelings.

Be forewarned that all the a la carte entrees are raw.  While two or three of the cooked appetizers would make a satisfying meal, they may not satisfy the 35$ minimum.  Yes, it is expensive, but overall, the meal was exceptional.  While people may complain of the price, eating at Kiss is closer to a prix fixe at Gary Danko than dinner at the neighborhood sushi bar.

The Not-So-Happy Hour

The Bar Room at Porta Via

424 N. Canon Dr.

Beverly Hills, CA 90210

(310) 274-6534

I've walked to Porta Via for a decent custom omelette or steel cut oatmeal, back before it was served at Jamba Juice.  I was excited to stroll down for an inexpensive specialty cocktail, or a nice bar night, but now that I've gone, I know it wouldn't be worth repeating.  We were led to The Bar Room at Porta Via by a particularly egregious error on TastingTable, promising half-priced drinks and free appetizers.  Instead, the Bar Room was celebrating its grand opening with two-for-one well drinks and full priced appetizers.

It has an ideal space, right next to Porta Via, and opens fully onto the sunny, fenced in patio.  Yet, it was so dark inside that we crept in thinking it wasn't open yet.  We asked to sit outside so we could see our food, and were put at a Porta Via table.  White table cloth and glasses were an upgrade from the pseudo-rustic, actually rusty chairs that make the ambiance of the Bar Room patio.

The well drinks were as expected, though my first gin and tonic was normal, and the second surreptitiously strong.  The sweet potato fries were sweet and crisp, but with an over vinegared blue cheese dressing.  The calamari was average, and got soggy.  Chef's choice flatbread pizza had mozzarella, basil and a hint of spice, but sat, essentially, on a cracker.  A similar creation is available at Palomino for half the price.

Though hunky, attentive servers did their best to make up for Tasting Table, and knocked 15% off the total, this is not an experience to recreate at full price.  

Seafood on the Pier part II

Pacific Fish Center and Restaurant

131 Fishermans Wharf

Redondo Beach, CA 90277

(310) 374-8420

Cruel death, part II.

It was raining, it was cold, it was windy and I was wearing a skirt.  My uncle, big eater and consummate racist that he is, recommended this place.  It fulfilled our criteria: large amounts of seafood served tabletop, and his: it's Korean.  

First came our live shrimp, a complete mistake as my dad, who insisted on having them, thought they were live when they were cooked.  Not live when the were skinned and brought to the table.  We initially tried to cancel the order and were a little put off when the woman said the order was already in, but it made sense when, still writhing, our shrimp arrived a moment later.  Again, I thought they would die quickly, as you, or I, or a chicken would die pretty quickly after being skinned, or "depantsed," and severed torso from legs.  But not shrimp.  Shrimp are perfectly happy to lay on a plastic platter, all facing the same direction, and have their bodies cut off with plastic utensils.  They did not attempt to bite the hands that gripped their sides and pulled their tails; instead, they fought each other.  Seriously.  Two turned on each other and started chomping until Julia picked one up and moved it down the row towards its more docile compatriots.  It was a little inspiring.

And not entirely worth it.  Though the shrimp tails were tender, fresh and sweet, they really just tasted like mild shrimp and weren't worth the, you know, eternal damnation.  On the other hand, the shrimp heads were worthy, carted off still wriggling, and returned ten minutes later deep fried.  This was inspiration.  The remaining legs and tentacles were as crispy as potato chips, tender, slightly fishy and a little salty.  They looked capable of cutting our mouths, but instead buckled easily in our unrelenting mouths.  The meat inside was barely fishy and so sweet and delectable that I licked little bits of shrimp guts from the inside of the shell.  My sister ate the eyes and face, I left mine on the paper plate.  Unbelievable.

The cooked shrimp went unfinished, a significant event in my family.  They were tough, overcooked, and though they had a nice aroma, didn't taste great.

The dungeness crabs were well cooked, full of the clean orange goo that I love, though the protein in the carriage was really thick and tough.  The meat was tender and fresh, and though it was delicious, it wasn't worth the premium over making our own at home.  At $16/lb, as opposed to about $6/lb at the grocers, I'll stay home.  

The finale was Mae Won Tong, a spicy seafood soup with daikon radish, tofu, fish collar, zucchini and shrimp.  We had to order it mild because my father can't handle heat anymore and it came disappointingly beige after watching pot after pot of bright red soup pass.  Despite lacking the main flavor, the stock was rich, flavorful and clean.  The fish and shrimp were unspectacular, but the broth alone made for a great finish.  Well, except for the little bit of kimchi and rice I had, you know, just to settle my stomach.

Seafood on the Pier

I think I'm going to hell.  I ate part of an animal while it was still alive.  Two, actually.

The first was a sea urchin, a faceless, echinodermatic training ground for animal two.  Don't worry, it wasn't a monkey (never eat primate, or you'll get spongiform encephalopathy, aka Mad Cow).  It was a shrimp.  An ugly, dumb crustacean closer, as Alton Brown often insists, to a cockroach than to us.  In a way, though part of it was alive, the part I was eating was thoroughly, thoroughly dead.  And yet, I turned in shame from its glossy eyes, its fighting maw, and the premature end to its armored head as I bit into its severed tail.

Quality Seafood

QualitySeafood.net

130 Internatl Boardwalk

Redondo Beach, CA 90277

(310) 374-2383

Quality Seafood is barely visible from the parking lot, an unimpressive lettering job at the end of a long boardwalk of tchotchke shops and bars.  As we got closer, as we saw the men in waterproof overalls and the rows of water tanks, I knew we had followed our bad Google directions to the right place.  First are the rows of crab and lobster, not just dungeness but spiny and spider.  Next are the oysters, maybe 18 types, largely local, and the rows of steamers, clams and mussels.  There's the bar for the beer and butter (all but the most minimalist sauces are 50cents-$1), then the area for platters: display cases of fried food and crates of ice and the newly dead.  A friendly counterperson helped us choose a whole tilapia for $10, cleaned, mostly, fried up and served with three sides.  We went back to the live stuff and from a less friendly but no less helpful counterperson, got 12 oysters, a pound of savory clams and green mussels pressure-cooker steamed in wine sauce, and, of course, a whole live sea urchin.

The first sea urchin he dropped, sparing its life and saving it for a later day's suffering.  Ours was a sprightly fellow, all healthy, long, roving spines.  He bashed in its oral surface with a serving spoon, pulled out long dark purple insides with his bare fingers, rinsed it quickly with water and plopped it on a styrofoam plate.  I really didn't expect it to still be moving.  But it was.  And after my sister carried it to our table, I really thought it would stop when she removed its first orange ovary.  Not yet.  I decided I'd wait until it died.  Out of respect.  But after five minutes I couldn't stand its suffering, and begged my sister to put it out of its misery.  She removed the rest of its ovaries and pushed around its insides a bit.  She's going to be a doctor.  And it kept moving.  So, allowing my morals to become secondary to hunger, I took a bite.  The sea urchin was sweet and creamy, only salty because of the milky fluid sloshing around in the funk.  It was a completely separate thing from uni sushi, which often tastes like river water and is slightly tougher and more orange than this delicate tongue of flesh.  It was delicious.

The tilapia was crispy and lightly salted, though the remaining deep fried scales curled into creepy spikes around the tail and fins.  The oysters were cleanly shucked, though not a gourmet experience served on a styrofoam tray with packets of Tapatio and lemons.  The only disappointment was the steamer plate.  Though the savory clams were surprisingly different, flavorful and tender, the sauce was not especially flavorful, and pulling the beards from the green mussels was unpleasant.  One bonus was the miniscule crab I found inside one of the clams, each orange appendage jutting up through the clam's membrane.  Creepy.

Bon Appetit Banh Mi

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Pork-Meatball-Banh-Mi-356790

Banh Mi ("bun me") may be the best thing to come from colonialism.  In general, these eclectic subs are fantastic.  Inexpensive cuts of flavorful meat, fresh vegetables and a little heat on a lightly toasted roll.  Though these homemade Banh Mi can't compete with the sandwiches available for $2.50 in downtown Oakland, they offer an easy alternative to the meatball sandwich at home.

I followed the recipe fairly accurately.  The meatballs were savory, very moist, and though the basil was not perceptible the first night, it became more pronounced in the leftovers the next day.  There's no fishy taste despite the fish sauce, and the Sriracha adds more flavor than heat.  The only adjustment I'd make would be to skip the sugar.  I know that, like pork buns, a lot of Vietnamese meats are sweet, but these were too sweet.

I added some shredded romaine (I like my sandwiches crunchy) and more Sriracha to the sauce because, and I know this shreds my credibility, I forgot to buy jalapenos.  Regardless, the sauce as it was portioned, had way too much mayo and not enough flavor.

I could see making these for an outdoor barbecue--an unusual foil for hotdogs and hamburgers that is still neatly enclosed in a bun--however, I don't think I'll repeat this recipe for a dinner at home.  The cheap ones on International, with the cracked linoleum floors and imported durian products, are just too perfect and too cheap to waste my time on a lesser version.