« June 2006 | Main | August 2006 »
And what did Alice Waters purchase last Saturday at the Sur La Table in the Ferry Building? Charming French paring knives. Or more precisely ‘traditional French paring knives...perfect for peeling, coring and other small, delicate tasks.’ Surely these must have been for a pique-nique? Hard to imagine a chef at Chez Panisse hacking away at a wild boar with a wooden handled paring knife. Even if it is French.
Dear Mr. Prime Minister,
The nice San Francisco police officer in the black flack suit (perfect for this cold and foggy San Francisco evening) just told me that you were dining at the Fairmont this evening. Might I suggest cocktails in the Tonga Room first? If you make it in before 7 pm you might be able to take advantage of the free hors d'oeuvre. But, hey, I bet you're on an expense account. So live it up. Order the puu-puu platter. And one of those crazy drinks with 10 different liquors served in a coconut shell. Please don't let that thunder scare you, or your secret service mates. It's just the tropical rain storm that passes through, every 20 minutes. So authentic. So tropical.
I always feel so safe when folks like you come to town. After all, who would dare try anything on Nob Hill with all those FBI snipers positioned on our rooftops?
Anyway, have a great time, Mr. Blair. We hope you packed a coat because summer as we know it has finally arrived.
The Muse turned to Mr. Muse Sunday evening over cocktails at the AMERICANO and said "If someone had told me 20 years ago that I would be sitting outside on the Embarcadero, sipping a cocktail and perusing a bar menu and that the temperature would be 70 degrees at 6 pm in July in San Francisco I would have called them a nut case". Yesterday’s nut case has become today’s prophet.
First, let’s talk about the flora and fauna of the neighborhood. To get an idea of what it looked like in 1968 watch the Steve McQueen movie BULLITT. The flophouse where Bullitt is assigned to protect a witness stood just a few feet away from the HOTEL VITALE. The movie gives you a good idea of what a dark and grimy part of town this was. The Ferry Building was a very scary place. Mr. Muse was once shooting photographs from inside the tower of the Ferry Building and he heard a loud hissing behind him. He turned around to face a cat-sized wharf rat up on its hind legs, baring its teeth. Lovely. Using his tripod to keep the rat with the glowing red eyes at bay, Mr. Muse escaped. Trust me. This was not an area that you would want to hang out in.
Continue reading "SIPPING COCKTAILS WHERE NO MAN WOULD HAVE TREAD BEFORE" »
How does a wilting Muse stay cool on these too hot days in the City? By drinking tall, cold glasses of Peet’s new Scharffen Berger Chocolate Mocha Freddo. We were introduced to this addictive drink last week at the Coffee and Chocolate Pairing free event hosted by the PEET'S in the Ferry Building and SCHARFFEN BERGER CHOCOLATE. The tasting was led by Peet’s John Reynolds, roastmaster emeritus, and John Scharffenberger. Four separate pairings were offered. Our favorite was the pairing of Peet’s Guatemala coffee with Scharffen Berger’s 62% Cacao Mocha semisweet chocolate. Sublime.
Sign up to receive Peet’s and Scharffen Berger's newsletters where these events are listed. We note that on Saturdays, August 12 and 19 Peet's will be sampling this delicious new drink from 2-4 at all of their stores.
The Muse’s love affair with Peet’s coffee goes back to college days at CAL. Berkeley flipped this suburban white girl’s world upside down. And the flip side of my family’s percolated coffee was a cup of Peet’s sipped on the way to campus. The dark, bitter brew was the magic potion that spoke of other worlds and promised a transformation that only Berkeley could provide. Thank you, Peet's.
An article in today’s San Francisco Chronicle reminded me that it was high time that I sing the praises of BIG NATE'S BARBEQUE. I met Nate Thurmond over ten years ago when we were both members of the same gym owned by Jim Simpson. The gym was then located in the basement of the Marine’s Memorial Building on Sutter Street at Mason. And what a great, funky place it was. I usually worked out on the men’s side of the gym because the men, who worked out in their underwear, were always nicer than the women who would snarl at me if I was on ‘their’ exercise bike for longer than 5 minutes. Anyway, the men who went to this gym included a retired NAACP lawyer, a judge, a hippy songwriter from North Beach, a musician, an evangelist, a retired FBI agent and a stockbroker or two for good measure. They had all been going there for many, many years. That is where I met the jazz musician Vernon Alley. He would tell me great stories about Billie and Carmen and Ella and Sarah as I sweated on the Stairmaster. He introduced me to Dinah Washington's music and her ‘Blue Gardenia’ CD. Another interesting man named Robert told me that you could always tell someone from Los Angeles (this would have been during his downtown days in the 40's through 60's) because the men did not wear hats. Take that, LA! Back to Nate. We started ordering home delivery of his barbeque in 1996 and still do today. Our favorite is the ‘Memphis Pork Dinner’. Pork shoulder is slowly smoked until it is tender and falling to pieces. The pork ribs are great, too. Mr. Culinary Muse loves their coleslaw. I love their potato salad. It took me a long time to understand the purpose of the slices of brown wonderbread. Now I stuff them with morsels of smoky pork bits and nibble away as sauce pours down my hand past my wrist along my arm to my elbow. Elbow licking good!
And what, exactly, do they have in common? The fabulous 1930's, dear readers. Do you swoon when you watch a black and white movie made in Hollywood during its Golden Age? Does your heart skip a beat when you walk into the Paramount theater in Oakland or watch episodes of Hercule Poirot on A&E? Do you wish men still wore hats and knew how to tip them when passing a lady? Is there a black cocktail dress with matching hat, seamed stockings and black faille pumps stuffed into the back of your closet just screaming to be let out? Do you yearn to wear a gardenia corsage? Well tomorrow night, July 20, 2006, is the night. Even if you are not (yet) a member of the ART DECO SOCIETY of San Francisco you are invited to an evening at THE CITY CLUB OF SAN FRANCISCO to sip a cocktail or two and enjoy the evening’s performance of ‘Garbo’s Cuban Lover’ described as "a suspenseful drama which explores the glamorous and secretive lives of Hollywood’s Golden Age’s most celebrated divas: Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich, and their love affairs with enigmatic Mercedes de Acosta".
Continue reading "ART DECO SOCIETY AND GARBO’S CUBAN LOVER" »
So there she was yesterday at 5:30 roaming from store to store. Was I the only one who recognized her? I stood to the side and watched her shop. Looking like all the other upper middle class, well-coiffed women who frequent the Ferry Building Marketplace, she seemed to be enjoying her casual stroll. And she looked great: blue blazer, khaki slacks, wedge sandals and no purse. Yes, no purse. I am concerned by this. Where does Martha stow her lipstick? Does she just walk around with a credit card in her pocket? Too bad she wasn't there on Saturday. We could have set her on the trail of the Man in Madras. Now that would be interesting. Martha Stewart reinvented as Nancy Drew. Which in a way she is. She is my generation's version of the intrepid Titian haired ingenue who always gets to the bottom of things. No nonsense. Case solved.
So who is that dapper fellow who holds court at the Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant every Saturday morning? He is ready at the gates before they open. Decked out in a wardrobe that ranges from pastel madras to yachting attire, he prepares his table (always the second table from the end). First the blue Provencal table cloth is spread out. The vase of flowers is placed in one corner. Next he carefully arranges three white plates. Ripe red strawberries are strewn amongst wedges of ripe cheeses. The next platter is for charcuterie. Then a plate for dessert. Are those cookies or petit fours? The plates are placed in a three tiered silver plate holder. Now he orders his bottle of wine. Last week it was a rose. By noon there are four other people sharing his table. Are these friends? Or other customers of the Wine Merchant. And what does the Wine Merchant think about a customer who sets up camp all day? I guess if he buys enough wine, who cares? Can you bring your own food into a wine shop if they don't serve food? Does anyone know what is going on here? Please let us know.
The Muse never leaves town in the summer without a cooler packed with ice. One can never tell when a farm stand will pop up along the road. Or a flatbed truck loaded with bags of oranges or flats of strawberries will be parked at the side of the road or a rest stop.
An embarrassment of riches? Or just pure greed? When the Muse got home last night from a day trip to the Central Valley it took more than one trip from the car to unload all the fruit. No wonder the woman at the CIPPONERI FAMILY FARMS fruit stand in Turlock asked if I was going to make jam. Apricots, nectarines (two types), white peaches, yellow peaches.
A cold wind is whipping across Nob Hill. A couple are huddled together on the corner. She is trying to spread out a map and he is hunched over with his hands dug into his pockets trying to stay warm.
What does the 4th of July mean in San Francisco? It means that while the rest of the United States is sweltering we are adding more layers of clothing. While the rest of the United States is anticipating an evening of fireworks we are trying to figure out the best place to watch the clouds turn pink and green once the show starts.
I am not complaining. Just as Christmas for New Zealanders means heat, the 4th of July means cold to us. The Muse did venture out of the city one year. It was 1986 and I was in New York City for business and pleasure. It was the year that they celebrated the newly refurbished Statue of Liberty. I will probably never see another fireworks display like that again. Spectacular. My other vivid memory of that night is how it felt to be packed into the last bus heading uptown from the Village at midnight. It was still hot. And humid. I knew at that moment that I would always be a San Franciscan.
So what will the Muse do today? Shop for ingredients to make the Barefoot Contessa's amazing Vegetable Coleslaw from the first book, page 107. Then order in the Memphis Pork dinners from BIG NATE'S BARBEQUE. After dinner we walk over to the corner of Sacramento and Mason to watch the fireworks.
Where is my red fleece jacket?
