REVIEW - DOSA on Fillmore

Being married to a stunning woman of Indian heritage, everyone assumes we eat Indian food every day and I love it. The truth is we don't, and I don't.

Dosa is a different kind of Indian restaurant though, with mostly mild yet interesting flavors, and nothing approaching a Vindaloo (thank heavens).

There are a couple of Dosa locations in San Francisco. This one is directly opposite the entrance to The Kabuki movie theater in Japantown, which means that every other time we've attempted to get in after exiting the theater, we've been met with a line as long as The Ganges.

This time however, Lawrence and I were there on the Monday right after Thanksgiving, so everyone else was tucked up at home with their families. Accordingly, we strolled into a virtually deserted Dosa around 10.15pm, had the requisite "mild yet interesting curry-type dishes", and were out again 30 minutes later.

Not much atmosphere. Not worth a long trip across town for the experience (we were already there, as I said, so no problem there).

There was a gorgeous 4' x 3' photo on one wall (see picture here), with an Indian woman prostrate on the ground (a vision I've yet to see in real life). All very tasteful, mind you. Of course, I forgot to ask our excellent waiter her name or the name of the picture, so I'm now surfing around Getty Images looking for that picture.

RAVE - 2012

I don't relish these RAVEs as much as I do the RANTs. There's not as much to get my teeth into if all I'm doing is saying nice things about nice things.

However, 2012 deserves a good old RAVE rating.

To quote Frankie Howerd, the film has its knockers. Some think it's all flash and trash, typical Hollywood.

Yes, it's like Earthquake, Towering Inferno and Poseidon Adventure all rolled into one humungous catastrophe movie. And yes, it is all about the special effects, but what a glorious explosion in a fireworks factory those effects are.

Special effects have come a looooong way since Moses parted the Red Sea in The Ten Commandments, to the point where you can now believe actors who say how hard it is to deliver the appropriate emotions when all they have are blue screens around them.

I have to admit to being troubled by the notion that 1,500 years ago the Mayans predicted the end of the world on December 20, 2012, ending their calendar on that date. Troubled that was, until I read that little piece of info was fabricated just to get us all anxious. Despite being relaxed by that news, we still found ourselves holding our breaths as buildings toppled, bridges collapsed, freeways fell into chasms, volcanic rocks crashed down and John Cusack rescued everyone.

Curiously, despite all the mayhem that was going on, I found myself distracted by the producers' decision to use Chiwetel Ejiofor and Thandie Newton - 2 English actors - to play 2 central American characters. And no, they weren't playing Panamanians! I meant their characters were central to the action, and there must be hundreds of real Americans who could have done that job.

If you can overlook the hokum, and don't believe the Mayan mumbo jumbo, you'll have a great time.

RAVE - 5A5 Steak Lounge

Occupying the space formerly graced by Frisson, the recently opened 5A5 Steak Lounge offers a very different experience from Mortons, Ruth's Chris, Harris' et al.

The decor hasn't changed much since 5A5 took residence - still a classy, modern feel, but the food and staff are very different.

The restaurant is named for A5 Wagyu steak imported from Japan. According to their web site, A5 stands for the highest grade of beef in the world - and here I was wondering what all the fuss was about Kobe beef. 

The first "5" in the name stands for the 5 senses, although I'm not sure how the last 2 of the 5 (sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing) were delivered. The noise was energetic without being overpowering, but aside from the cutlery and wine glasses I don't remember touching anything.

As it was, I had Australian Kobe, and Lawrence had Buffalo. Both steaks were sensational - perfectly cooked and fabulous with the marble potatoes and spinach. Our appetizers included Beef Tataki - raw beef served in sushi roll style, with rice, sliced avocado and Ponzu sauce.

I really should have got our server's name, because she did an excellent job.

The other diners complemented the brothers Page - elegant, good-looking and fashionable.

RAVE - A hot round at Rancho Solano Golf Club, Fairfield

Considering how badly I got beaten by Lawrence (pictured) today, it's testimony to this course and the weather to still be able to say it was a wonderful day.

Rancho Solano is not as challenging a course as Wente, where we played 2 days ago - the undulations and hazards were more forgiving - but I still managed to score a lamentable 126. Serious golfers would blanch at that score, but I took comfort in out-driving my brother on a number of holes. It was all the other shots that let me down.

The weather was fabulous - we were over-dressed in short-sleeved shirts and long pants. Thank heavens for the drinks cart and the refills at the 9th, which kept us from gasping too much. The carts were equipped with satellite navigation, range finders and scoring systems. If only we could have got Fox Soccer Channel on the cart's computer we could have seen Liverpool slot 2 past Everton and it would have capped the day off nicely.

I think I've reached the point in my game where I need new clubs, so we'll be shopping in San Francisco tomorrow. Hopefully, when we play again on Tuesday I'll be freshly equipped and bereft of excuses.

REVIEW - Specchio

We went here for dinner a couple months ago with friends, and it was okay. Food was pretty good, but the overbearing noise was distracting. The place is a concrete echo chamber. 

My brother Lawrence and I went there again last night, and because it was the Friday of Thanksgiving weekend, the place was virtually deserted. This allowed us to judge Specchio on food and service alone.

Unfortunately, again it was just okay. It's certainly not classic Italian - in menu design, flavors or delivery. That's not a fault, as there are plenty of those in San Francisco, but it does beg the question: "why go to Specchio?"

Well, aside from the parking garage almost next door - a rare vehicular oasis in The Mission - there's not much to recommend it. Specchio is just one of many restaurants you'll visit and say "That was fine, but I don't think I need to go there again".

RAVE - 18 holes at The Course at Wente Vineyards

The only other time I've sampled 18 of anything at a winery has been a wine tasting in Napa.

The 18 holes at the Wente course are good-looking and challenging, with lots of elevation change. The course stretches out between the hills and the vineyards, so the views are gorgeous, as you can see.

Yes, it rained for part of the round, but for most of the day it was warm-ish and wonderful.

The zig-zag path you see behind Lawrence is Wente's answer to Lombard Street, the alleged twistiest road in the world, in San Francisco. The Wente version is just as twisty, made even more interesting if you're in a rattling, side-less golf cart.

RAVE - 9 holes at Diablo Hills Golf Club

Thanks to Cheri our hostess, Gareth, my brother Lawrence and I enjoyed a relaxing Thanksgiving morning of golf at Diablo Hills Golf Club in Walnut Creek.

Lawrence is here for 8 days to get away from the rain in northern England, and we're planning to use those days for golf and liquid refreshment.

If the rest of the week turns out as good as today - warm weather, not too shabby scoring and great company - there'll be coverage of the rest of the tour.

If this is the only "golf" picture you see over the next few blog posts, then it rained or we sucked.

RANT - Antichrist

This is not a religious rant, although after suffering through possibly the worst excuse for an art-house suspense movie, I feel like I need a good cleansing.

I've read some nicely-written reviews of this mess. I admire the eloquence but can't agree with the sentiments. Maybe I'm not capable of an objective critique because I wasn't looking for a smart-assed exercise in psychology. I was looking for entertainment.

But, it's not a thriller. It's not suspenseful. It's not Omen XXIII. It's not The Exorcist IV. It's not exciting. It's not interesting. It's not compelling. It's not sexy (even though Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg spend most of the film in and out of their underwear).

Maybe I should have seen a dud a-coming when I read that the film had only two protaganists. A script has to be pretty darned tight to make it interesting to listen to just 2 people interact for 90 minutes. And this one wasn't tight.

Skip it, even when it's on DVD.

RAVE - Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Aside from having the clumsiest title since The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies!!? (and yes, it did get released with the !!?), Bad Lieutenant is a mad, rewarding ride.

I can do without those reviews that claim it's a poor remake of one of their favorite movies of all time, for three (count 'em) reasons:

1. It smacks of professional complaining, wonderfully satirized by a sign outside a tent at the 2008 Glastonbury Festival saying "Form a Line Here If You Think It Was Better Last Year".

2. The first Bad Lieutenant movie, directed by Abel Ferrara in 1992, is what's known as a "cult classic", which means it sucked, big time, but is adored by a small group of weirdos.

3. This 2009 "version" isn't a remake at all, sharing only part of the title and the basic premise of a crooked cop.

Nicolas Cage's career seems like it's been teetering on the edge of the commode for years now, with a string of duller than ditchwater films in which the only thing that changes is his hairpiece. But in this movie, the gloriously unhinged twins of Cage and director Werner Herzog come together to make 120 minutes of pure mayhem. In fact, I'd say everyone in this film contributes to the WTF factor. Everyone that is, except Val Kilmer, who needs to fire his agent right away.

RAVE - The Secret Life of Houdini, by William Kalush and Larry Sloman

Houdini is one of those characters - like Richard The Lionheart, Sir Lancelot, Henry VIII and John Lennon - that I've always been intrigued by and attracted to.

This book reminds me of everything I already kind of knew about Houdini, as well as a ton of stuff I'd never heard before. He was the "real thing", inventive and brave, a showman and a detective.

The book delivers truth behind all those stories we've heard about Houdini, and acts as a reminder of just what a charlatan David Blaine is.

RAVE - Mayflower, by Nathaniel Philbrick

No doubt there are thousands of books about the founding fathers, the Pilgrims, Quakers and other early immigrants to what would become the USA.

This is the only one I've read, and it gave my a real insight (perhaps because it is the only one I've read) into the kind of people who escaped religious oppression in 16th century England, first of all to Holland, where they chartered a few ships, and picked up more fundamentalists from England and made their way to America.

Not only did they ignore many of their basic teachings, they proceeded to do a shabby job of mixing with the indigenous native tribes, and pretty soon ended up killing a lot of them, turning certain groups against themselves, passing on diseases and generally making what we historians call a "pig's ear" of their presence.

I never knew the Pilgrims, those nice Christian types, were so NASTY!

RAVE - Paranormal Activity

Last night was Mrs. Page's Book Club Babes' night in, so I made myself scarce.

What better way to distance myself from a group of ladies discussing Jude Deveraux's The Summerhouse* than by seeing a good old horror movie?

Except this isn't your typical good old horror movie.

As every man and his guard dog knows, this movie was made for less than Elton John's weekly flower budget (about $15,000 to be more precise). Yet maybe because, rather than in spite of that comparative pittance, Paranormal Activity manages to scare the living daylights out of each audience it plays to. (I know my English Professor would say: "Never end a sentence with a preposition Page, and stop doing that with your hand!"), but somehow you can't talk about a horror movie and say things like "it manages to scare the living daylights out of each audience to which it plays".

I know my friend and fellow amateur critic Ed Gaudet has said on his Facebook page to skip this film until it's out on DVD, and then FFWD to the last 15 minutes, but as in his choice of trousers, Ed's wrong again.

In addition to Ed's advice, I also ignored the movie's poster, which says "DON'T SEE IT ALONE!" My experience with horror movies is that while you don't necessarily need to see them alone, it's always advisable to see them without screaming ladies or kids. A bit like football games really. As it was, the place was virtually empty, so it was just me and a couple who curiously chose to sit right behind me in an otherwise empty theater. Now that was creepy.

It does take some time to build up [insert Freebird and Stairway to Heaven references here] but I was totally rapt. The movie was intense throughout, and when the real action started, it was genuinely scary. Not blood and guts scary, but things that go bump in the night scary, things that pull you out of bed and drag you down the hallway scary.

Others have said that it's just like Blair Witch Project. Yes it is, but mostly in an amateur hand-held camera kind of way. If that puts you off a film, don't see Paranormal Activity or Cloverdale.

The movie's foremost achievement is telling a story that's been told a thousand times before, but doing it differently and still managing to scare you.

BOO!

* As Black Friday is upon us, I thought I'd throw in my own special offer - 2 reviews for the price of one. Having only glanced at the cover of The Summerhouse, I already know it's a chick's book with all the sex, violence, bad language, excitement, intrigue and wit taken out. So, if you're of an ultra-mild disposition, the doctor has told you to take it really easy, and you find that Miss Marple is just a little bit too racy for your tastes, read it.

And if that collection of sexist BS doesn't get me banned from Blog Club, I'll be back with my Thanksgiving for Vegetarians - How to Avoid Being a Party Pooper.

REVIEW - Pirate Radio (aka The Boat That Rocked)

A good film, but.

I'd been looking forward for months to see this movie, having to wait for its US release for what seemed ages after it got its UK release under the original "Boat That Rocked" monicker. I'd been hoping for a kick-ass soundtrack, rib-tickling dialog and lashings of nostalgia.

I used to listen to Radio Luxembourg (which wasn't a pirate station), because even though it broadcast from further away, the signal was marginally better than Radio Caroline, on which this story is loosely based. I even used to listen to French radio when studying for French exams, in the lame hope that I could get used to conversational French. None of these scratchy, barely perceptible broadcasts was worth the effort.

Nevertheless, I was aching to see this movie. And therefore, it was doomed to be a let-down.

The main problem I had was that the theater - the otherwise excellent Kabuki (reserved, ultra-comfy seats, bar and an intelligent audience devoid of the intolerable cell-phone flashing and chattering wankers you get elsewhere in the City) has a less-than-stellar sound system. If you can see this film somewhere with great sound TURNED WAY UP, then I urge you to do that. The Kabuki didn't do justice to all the great music.

The cast seemed to be having fun - with Rhys Ifans looking like a blond Noel Gallagher, and the always marvelous Philip Seymour Hoffman not having to exert himself too much. But where it should have zinged, the humor was a bit strained, barely masking a weak script.

Maybe I'll just download the soundtrack, and turn it up to 11.

RAVE - Tokyo Go Go

Last night's fabulous dinner at Tokyo Go Go was the perfect example of how the right company can lift a decent restaurant experience to a 5-star high. After our initial disappointment at not being able to get into Monk's Kettle ("a 2.5 hour wait for a table, sir"), Bar Bambino (2 hours), Andalu (1 hour), our reservation-less group: Felicia, Pavey, David and I were able to glide into Tokyo Go Go.

As all of these restaurants are within 50 yards of each other, and represent a fraction of the other places you could hit with a paint gun from the corner of 16th and Mission, it underlines the area's position as San Francisco's Number 1 area for night-life.

I'm not a sushi fan, preferring tempura to sashimi and vodka to sake, but last night the oysters were spicy, the rolls were crunchy, the shrimp was succulent and the sake flights sparked debate like we were sampling fine wines.

David convinced me that it was good idea to get up early this morning and meet him at Hanson's place for a day of US soccer, college football and the crucial Ireland versus France World Cup qualifier. What did I do? Stayed in bed, made breakfast at 11am and vegetated until posting this. I'll catch you later David. Perhaps.

RAVE - Time Magazine's lists

While diving into Time Magazine's Top 50 Web Sites of 2009, I found some gems, the coolest of which is a solution for sharing stuff - music, video, anything, with other people. It's called drop.io. It gives you 100mb for free, and 1gb is only $10 per year.

The list includes some sites I already use on a daily basis, like popurls.com and opentable.com, and a host of other interesting stuff.

It's also worth delving into the other lists on the Time site. You never know what you'll find.

REVIEW - Flour and Water, San Francisco

This new restaurant in The Mission is insanely popular, requiring that you book a month in advance to get a prime-time reservation. Part of that booking dynamic is caused by the size of the place (it's not huge) and the fact that half the seats (including those at the bar and communal dining table) are set aside for walk-ins.

Which is what we did Thursday evening.

After a tasty crispy pork appetizer, I had the Topinambur pizza, with a list of toppings that will have you looking at the WTF section of your recipe book: Sunchoke (aka Jerusalem Artichoke), Fior di latta (mozzarella), Gremolata (parsely, garlic and lemon zest) and Anchovy. Oh, and an egg that they forgot to add. I usually like a sliver of anchovy dotted here and there on my pizza, for the occasional kick that it delivers. However, this one tasted like an anchovy pizza, with the intense fish having permeated the entire dish. The base itself was curiously dry and dusty with flour, more like pitta than pizza. I can see how they're trying to differentiate their pizzas, but it didn't work for me.

Pavey started with the Striped Bass crudo with fennel, which was even fishier than the "crudo" warning sign implied (6/10), followed by the Game Tagliatelle, which looked dreadful but tasted much better (7/10, with 1 point deducted for the waiter correcting her when she said Tagliatell. "Tagliatell-ee".)

A very happening place, with food that will have you talking, if not unreservedly savoring.

REVIEW - Burger Bar, San Francisco

Much has been written about Hubert Keller's $60 burgers in his Vegas joint, and now the recession-eschewing chef has brought the experience to Macy's in San Francisco.

Sorry - just had to wipe my screen down after saying 'recession-eschewing chef' with a mouthful of microwaved frozen lunch. Who am I to be critiquing the hard work of a master chef?

The anticipation had been building for months in certain quarters. Not mine, I hasten to add. I appreciate a good dollop of minced meat and additives, but I'd never get all religious about it.

I don't know whether that anticipatory throb was due to a genuine passion for America's contribution to the world menu, or a devilish interest in seeing something bomb, big time. Now, a couple months after it opened, I cannot find one glowing review of this altar to fast food, and having eaten there last Sunday, I can see why.

First, this is not THE chef Keller. Thomas Keller (no relation to Hubert) is owner and executive chef at The French Laundry in nearby Napa, consistently voted in the Top 5 restaurants in the World. Hubert Keller is still an accomplished chef, having run the Fleur de Lys restaurants in San Francisco and Las Vegas for some years. While I remember having one of the most elegant Valentines  dinners at FdeL in SF, with some hot babe I eventually married, I don't remember exactly what we ate.

Hubert - or maybe that should be hubris - Keller's SF venture joins The Cheesecake Factory inside Macy's, and turns out to be a fitting match for that other bloated, touristic, over-subscribed and under-whelming eatery.

But what about the burgers, I hear you ask, pounding your cutlery on the table? They're OKAY. Certainly better than your average fast food, which regularly renders me more than regular, if you get my drift. "Alimentary, my dear Watson" as Sherlock Holmes might say.

They were good but not fabulous.

1. I'm not a penny-pincher who carefully weighs the value of each purchase, especially when it comes to comestibles and libations (that's grub and booze to most of you). But when someone charges $20-$60 for a burger, you cannot help but ask "is it worth that?" My $18 peppercorn burger was not. Pavey's turkey burger was dull, and together the $55 bill for 2 burgers and 2 cokes seemed steep.

2. I believe judging books by their covers is an excellent and unavoidable way of measuring stuff - food, people, places, whatever. The Burger Bar looks part sports bar, part Mel's Diner. It does not look, sound or feel upscale.

3. Menus are like resumes ... sloppiness and typos immediately place the writer in a negative light. Keller may be a dab hand in the kitchen, but he clearly doesn't pay that much attention to what's written in his menu. It's littered with bad grammar (even for a menu) and typos. And for heaven's sake people, there is no such thing as CARMELIZED. It's CAR-bloody-A-bloody-MELIZED. Or caramelised if you're pointing a blow-torch at a bowl of custard in England. There's a pony-tailed pillock with his own TV cook show who regularly says 'carmelized', and fortunately for him he can't hear my sworn response.

So there it is. If you're already shopping in Macy's and you're craving a burger and/or a milk shake, haul your shopping bags up the elevator and into Burger Bar. Just don't plan your week around it.

RAVE - Restaurant DOs and DON'Ts

It turns out that, contrary to my firm belief that I'm years ahead of other commentators, I'm only a couple of months ahead (see my August 16th rant: GOT JUICE?).

This list comes from yesterday's New York Times, and was sent to me by my fellow whiner, er food critic, Gareth Sylvester.

It's a shame how few restaurants follow all the DOs, and how many commit most of the DON'Ts.
 


Part 1 from the series: You're The Boss: The Art of Running a Small Busines

Herewith is a modest list of dos and don’ts for servers at the seafood restaurant I am building. Veteran waiters, moonlighting actresses, libertarians and baristas will no doubt protest some or most of what follows. They will claim it homogenizes them or stifles their true nature. And yet, if 100 different actors play Hamlet, hitting all the same marks, reciting all the same lines, cannot each one bring something unique to that role?

1. Do not let anyone enter the restaurant without a warm greeting.
2. Do not make a singleton feel bad. Do not say, “Are you waiting for someone?” Ask for a reservation. Ask if he or she would like to sit at the bar.
3. Never refuse to seat three guests because a fourth has not yet arrived.
4. If a table is not ready within a reasonable length of time, offer a free drink and/or amuse-bouche. The guests may be tired and hungry and thirsty, and they did everything right.
5. Tables should be level without anyone asking. Fix it before guests are seated.
6. Do not lead the witness with, “Bottled water or just tap?” Both are fine. Remain neutral.
7. Do not announce your name. No jokes, no flirting, no cuteness.
8. Do not interrupt a conversation. For any reason. Especially not to recite specials. Wait for the right moment.
9. Do not recite the specials too fast or robotically or dramatically. It is not a soliloquy. This is not an audition.
10. Do not inject your personal favorites when explaining the specials.
11. Do not hustle the lobsters. That is, do not say, “We only have two lobsters left.” Even if there are only two lobsters left.
12. Do not touch the rim of a water glass. Or any other glass.
13. Handle wine glasses by their stems and silverware by the handles.
14. When you ask, “How’s everything?” or “How was the meal?” listen to the answer and fix whatever is not right.
15. Never say “I don’t know” to any question without following with, “I’ll find out.”
16. If someone requests more sauce or gravy or cheese, bring a side dish of same. No pouring. Let them help themselves.
17. Do not take an empty plate from one guest while others are still eating the same course. Wait, wait, wait.
18. Know before approaching a table who has ordered what. Do not ask, “Who’s having the shrimp?”
19. Offer guests butter and/or olive oil with their bread.
20. Never refuse to substitute one vegetable for another.
21. Never serve anything that looks creepy or runny or wrong.
22. If someone is unsure about a wine choice, help him. That might mean sending someone else to the table or offering a taste or two.
23. If someone likes a wine, steam the label off the bottle and give it to the guest with the bill. It has the year, the vintner, the importer, etc.
24. Never use the same glass for a second drink.
25. Make sure the glasses are clean. Inspect them before placing them on the table.
26. Never assume people want their white wine in an ice bucket. Inquire.
27. For red wine, ask if the guests want to pour their own or prefer the waiter to pour.
28. Do not put your hands all over the spout of a wine bottle while removing the cork.
29. Do not pop a champagne cork. Remove it quietly, gracefully. The less noise the better.
30. Never let the wine bottle touch the glass into which you are pouring. No one wants to drink the dust or dirt from the bottle.
31. Never remove a plate full of food without asking what went wrong. Obviously, something went wrong.
32. Never touch a customer. No excuses. Do not do it. Do not brush them, move them, wipe them or dust them.
33. Do not bang into chairs or tables when passing by.
34. Do not have a personal conversation with another server within earshot of customers.
35. Do not eat or drink in plain view of guests.
36. Never reek from perfume or cigarettes. People want to smell the food and beverage.
37. Do not drink alcohol on the job, even if invited by the guests. “Not when I’m on duty” will suffice.
38. Do not call a guy a “dude.”
39. Do not call a woman “lady.”
40. Never say, “Good choice,” implying that other choices are bad.
41. Saying, “No problem” is a problem. It has a tone of insincerity or sarcasm. “My pleasure” or “You’re welcome” will do.
42. Do not compliment a guest’s attire or hairdo or makeup. You are insulting someone else.
43. Never mention what your favorite dessert is. It’s irrelevant.
44. Do not discuss your own eating habits, be you vegan or lactose intolerant or diabetic.
45. Do not curse, no matter how young or hip the guests.
46. Never acknowledge any one guest over and above any other. All guests are equal.
47. Do not gossip about co-workers or guests within earshot of guests.
48. Do not ask what someone is eating or drinking when they ask for more; remember or consult the order.
49. Never mention the tip, unless asked.
50. Do not turn on the charm when it’s tip time. Be consistent throughout.

RAVE - The Ghost Map, by Steven Johnson

So many of my reviews of books I enjoy include an element of "Who'd have thought that a book about ..... would be so engaging, even exciting".

The story of how the Cholera outbreak in London in 1854 led to the discovery of airborne bacteria, and probably why we're still here and able to read, is just such a book.

It's part history (how horrible life was for anyone but the rich in 17th Century London), part science (how little was known at the time about germs, bacteria and disease), and part detective story (how an enterprising pair: a cleric and a doctor, track the thousands of cases on the map in order to learn how the disease was spreading).