Culinary Muse

Ode to Starbuck's New Hot Chocolate 'Chantico'

I used to love to hate Starbucks.  I fancy myself a Peet’s gal.  From my first cup of real coffee in college at Berkeley, Peet’s has been my only coffee of choice.  Then one day I was stuck at an airport in the Midwest with five hours between planes.  I really wanted an espresso but I thought the chances of even getting a decent cup of black coffee were small.  That was the first time that Starbucks saved the day.  The second time was in Hawaii.  I was staying at a luxury hotel on Waikiki beach.  I discovered that the breakfast served on the lanai of the hotel was a prix fixe $35.00 buffet.  Who could eat enough food at 7:00 a.m. to make it worth it? A Starbucks two blocks away provided a great alternative with its island themed coconut lattes and bagels.  Then just last spring I made my annual pilgrimage to Los Angeles via Highway 5. The pale brown swill that I purchased at the pink stucco oasis ‘Harris Ranch’ got tossed out of the window after my first sip.  Now what?  Three more hours on the road and no caffeine?  I drove on and within an hour found a Starbucks at the foot of the Grapevine.  Drive thru, no less.  What is all this chatter about Starbucks leading up to?  On Saturday I went to a charity event that included ‘goodie bags’ at each seat.  One of the ‘goodies’ was a coupon for a free cup of Starbuck’s new hot chocolate called ‘Chantico’.   I tried it this afternoon.  Forget the dumb name.  All you need to know is that it is a six-ounce serving of deep, rich, thick hot chocolate.  Delicious.  A perfect afternoon ‘pick me up’. Try it…

March 16, 2005 update: I was told by a nutritionist yesterday that one serving of Chantico (6 ounces) is 600 calories!  Wow!  In other words, staying home with my feet up on the couch eating a donut is better than walking the five miles a day I usually walk while drinking a Chantico.  I have to give this some thought......

March 18, 2005 update: Daniel was kind enough to send me the actual nutritional info: 390 calories, 21 grams of fat and 51 carbs per six ounce serving.  Thanks, Daniel.

The Neighborhoods: Ella's in Presidio/Pacific Heights

The best part about going out to eat with pregnant girlfriends is they have such hearty appetites and a true ‘devil may care’ attitude towards food.  The same woman that just last year was telling the waiter not to leave the bread on the table is now asking for a second round of toast and “more jam, please”.  As you all know by now, H is one of my favorite eating buddies.  We love to talk about a) what we are eating, b) what we ate yesterday and c) what we are going to eat tomorrow.  Now that she is pregnant, dining out together has kicked into high gear.  If we are not at Tartine’s Bakery having cake in the afternoon, then we are scouting out the City looking for a hearty breakfast.  It all started on one of our morning walks from the Golden Gate Bridge over to Fort Mason.  The real destination was Green’s for a cup of coffee and a date bar.  Continued.....

An Ode: Valentine’s Day Ode to the Dove Bar

I had my first Dove Bar in 1986 in NYC.  It was June and I was hauling heavy artist’s portfolio cases in and out of cabs. It was humid.  Being from San Francisco, I had no idea what this humidity thing was all about. I was sticky and hot and my panty hose clung to me like Saran Wrap. Yes, we all wore panty hose then. On my last day of meeting with too many, too cool for their own good Art Directors and deranged Art Buyers (all wearing black, may I add), I was trying to hail a cab on Madison Avenue when I noticed that a crowd was forming on the corner behind me.  Apparently, a guy was giving out free frozen food.  A ‘Frozen Novelty’ to be exact.  Every time the guy thrust his hand into the freezer to pull out the novelty all I could think of was how nice it would be to put my head in that freezer. Not for a long time.  Just long enough to cool off, but not long enough for the police to arrive. 

I snapped out of it when I saw what was being given away.  The biggest hunk of chocolate covered something I had ever seen on a stick.  At least three times as big as an Eskimo Pie.  ‘The size of a baseball glove’ is how my husband describes it.  I dragged myself, along with the now detested albatross portfolio cases, over to the line and grabbed one. After I let it set on top of my head for a minute or two (look, I was hot, and after five days in Manhattan I had stopped caring how provincial I looked), I peeled off the white wrapping and bit in.  I cracked through a thick layer of perfect ‘melt on the tongue’ chocolate which coated an even richer creamy vanilla ice cream.  I finished the entire bar, smacked my lips and was ready to find out where to buy my next one. 

It took a while for the Dove Bar to arrive in SF.  The first ones were the same size that I had had in NYC, huge, packaged three to a carton.  Then somewhere along the way the Mars folks figured out that Americans perceive value in quantity so they packed them four to a carton but made the bars at least 25% smaller.  On this Valentine's Day we are having Dove Bars for dessert.  Two bars for each of us.  One for each hand.

CM has been Tagged!

Culinary Muse has been 'tagged' by Gastronomie for ‘Music in the Kitchen’.  Here goes:

What is the total number of music files on your computer? None.  I listen to jazz all day streaming online from KCSM Jazz Radio

The last CD you bought?  Django Reinhardt ‘Swing de Paris’ 4 CD set

What is the song you last listened to before reading this message?  You Turned the Tables on Me by Anne Hampton Calloway

Write down 5 songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you.

You Must Believe in Spring – Bill Evans

This Year’s Kisses – Nina Simone

Vertigo – the entire soundtrack

A Patch of Blue – the entire soundtrack

Concert by the Sea – Erroll Garner

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?

Meredith Laurence because she is one of the best chefs I have worked with

Jamie Eats because he is a new food blogger

ENOKIWORLD because this site is all about good taste

The Neighborhoods: Chinatown Bakery

I try to resist humming the song ‘Grant Avenue’ from ‘Flower Drum Song’ as I walk through Chinatown during Chinese New Year.  1950’s sentiments and stereotypes aside, it was probably the one piece of theater that had the most to do with promoting San Francisco tourism.  I like Chinatown in January.  But I love it in February when it revs up for the New Year.  Red lanterns swing from balconies.  Florist shops are full of flowering quince, cherry and peach branches.  Thick hunks of candied coconut are sold for 99 cents a package. The streets are a little too crowded for my taste, but I still manage to get over to Golden Gate Bakery to pick up a freshly baked treat to eat on the street.  A vulgar habit, I am told.  But a delicious habit, nonetheless.

Golden Gate Bakery usually has a long line out the door.  A very slow moving line.  It’s not that they are understaffed.  There are usually three women, including the owner, behind the counter at all times.  Remember, however, that this is not Starbucks and each person in front of you is not just ordering one double latte and one muffin.  People come to Golden Gate Bakery because they are buying for a crowd.  It is not unusual for customers, already weighted down with the ubiquitous Chinatown pink plastic bags hanging from their arms, to slowly edge their way out the narrow doorway balancing a stack of pink boxes.  Pink cardboard bakery boxes that have little vents cut into the tops to vent the steam from the still hot treats. continued.....