Tuesday Review: Range

My posts have been rather sporadic as of late, as you may have noticed. I seem to have gotten a) overcommitted, and b) involved with a very nice lady, hence a predictable lack of blogging time. I additionally seem to be entering some sort of unexpected cooking hibernation, and I'm honestly not putting up much of a fight. However, ladyfriend and I have been exploring the gastronomic options throughout San Francisco and she recently had the brilliant suggestion to post lurid details about our adventures here. Thus: Tuesday restaurant reviews.

Last night we struck out to Range. I've been eyeing Range since I first moved to the Mission, and passed Range every day on my way to yoga. I sensed that they had particularly inveigling culinary delights to share, but I needed the appropriate occasion and dining partner to venture out.

I was so right. The atmosphere is warm, home-y, and inviting -- plenty of dark wood and brushed silver, pleasant lighting, and perfect acoustics for dinner conversation. We started with the Quercus Harmonia Pinot Noir 2007 since ladyfriend was looking for something sweet and light, and the Andre Brunel Cotes du Rhone 2006 on the server's recommendation, since I was leaning towards something earthy. We subsequently swapped wines but both were excellent, with a mutual pleasant dustiness that complemented the autumnal flavors of our meal.

The menu looked lovely, but since we have a host of dietary restrictions between us (gluten-intolerant, loosely lactose-intolerant, pescatarian) we selected an array of appetizers. We were hesitant to order the barley-vegetable soup with gruyere croutons, but we weren't disappointed: it was fantastically seasoned and chock full of greens and root vegetables. The Bartlett pears with arugula, celery root, goat cheese, and hazelnuts were the real star for me, showcasing a melange of flavors that synchronized beautifully against the backdrop of rosemary vinaigrette.

For our next course we shared the raw California Yellowtail with pickled beets, meyer lemon, and tarragon which was...a disappointment. Ladyfriend insists the cut of fish was sub-par, and I didn't particularly care for the preparation. Fortunately the sweet-potato-stuffed pasta with sage, lemon, and pecans made up for it -- the lemon in particular added a lovely bracing quality against the sweet heaviness of the wintry fillings.

For dessert we chose the bittersweet chocolate espresso souffle with cinnamon-caramel swirl ice cream, paired with Ottimino Zinfandel 2005 and the Taylor Fladgate late bottled vintage port 2000, and every single one of those flavors worked together so incredibly well. Port and chocolate have to be one of my favorite decadent combinations, and I give Sam the server major props for pushing me that direction.

Ladyfriend additionally notes the excellent service and lovely food presentation, for an overall score of 9.0 (our highest yet; retroactive restaurant reviews to come). I loved it all that and a little more for a 9.1.

A question for you, kind readers: what do you think about taking cameras into restaurants? I know certain New York establishments have banned photography at the table, and I do feel disgustingly overt/tacky/touristy/amateur whipping out my little Sony Cybershot before each course. But, I know that reviews with a view are significantly superior. Thoughts?

Basta!

A friend recently directed me to the New York Times review of La Zucca Magica.

In sum: Inspired Italians in the ever-succulent South of France cooking voluptuous vegetarian food. A first! And decorating their restaurant with puppets made from gourds. Another first.

From the owners: “We said ‘basta!’ to trying to pretend the slices did not come from a nice little pig.”

Basta, indeed. This makes me long for Provencal flavors and Old World markets. And...gourds...

Tinto Wine Bar, Philadelphia

Last night I had the pleasure of dining at Tinto in Center City Philadelphia. Jose Garcia, the executive chef at Amada (my favorite restaurant in Philly) opened Tinto last spring with the idea of a tapas and wine bar similar to Amada but focusing on the Basque cuisine indigenous to northern Spain.

I started with a glass of Castell Roig ("roych") Cava Brut, and my friend tried the Palacio De La Vega Navarra Reserva (Tempranillo), which was nice but a bit oakier than I/we expected. We selected five dishes (our server, Brett, recommended three per person, but we were planning ahead for dessert), and while we were waiting he presented a plate of Mahon cheese crisps with a fantastic smoked tomato coulis. Brett was incredibly helpful, friendly, and knowledgeable, and definitely contributed to the whole dining experience.

Our first plate was De Txanguro A La Vasca (pictured, left), a bruschetta with jumbo lump crab, avocado, and espelette chile. The mix of creamy and crisp was a lovely combination, and the crab salad was prepared so well. Next came the Bonito Bocadillo: I learned that "Bocadillo" means "sandwich", and we have Spanish bonito tuna on our menu at Tria. So this was a sandwich of marinated tuna with creme fraiche, red onion escabeche, and an anchovy, served on a croissant. My favorite part was honestly the anchovy -- anchovies really aren't used often enough, in my opinion. Just as we were finishing the last bits of croissant the runner presented Revueloto de Langosta, a round of lobster and asparagus shired eggs, served with an oyster cava cream and toasted baguette. The consistency didn't seem overwhelmingly appetizing, but the flavors and richness of the dish came through.

After the seafood rounds my Cava was running pretty low, and when the next two dishes arrived I knew it was time to switch to a red. First came the Patatas Asturianas. Patatas! Potatoes! Get it? These were fried and served on top of a tomato compote, and at the table the server doused them with a lovely La Peral cream. Just as we were starting to savor the combination of crispy, creamy, salty flavors, the Hongos a la Plantxa arrived -- wild mushrooms roasted on a plank, tossed with truffle oil, and served in a small cast iron skilled atop roasted potatoes and shallots. I downed the last couple sips of cava and we ordered two glasses of the Navarra Evohe (I believe the grape was "Garnatxa"?), which complemented the earthy notes of the food rather well.

That was our five, but we wanted one more taste before dessert. Brett recommended the Arroz con Almejas, a rice dish topped with clams and shaved artichokes, and served with a Mahon cream. This was r-i-c-h. It was practically dripping butter, and the tasty cream began to congeal as it cooled, shimmering with fat. It was delicious, but sort of reminded me why I enjoy living a low-dairy lifestyle.

So it's a good thing that for dessert we selected the Torta de Aceite de Olivia, a yellow cake made with olive oil instead of butter and served with vanilla marcona almond creme and housemade blood orange marmalade. The combination of cake, cream, almonds, and marmalade made for the perfect bite. We paired this with a glass of Pedro Ximinez sherry, which literally tasted like drinking a freshly-picked fig. Brett recommended drizzling it over whole-wheat pancakes, perhaps with some poached figs. YUM.

All in all I really enjoyed Tinto, but Amada still reigns as my favorite Philly restaurant. Basque cuisine seems to be a bit richer and heavier than other Spanish foods, and perhaps not quite as spicy. That said, I plan to find a recipe for olive oil cake a.s.a.p., and maybe a bottle of Pedro Ximinez, too.

Bill's Excellent [Sandwich] Adventure

The problem with panini?*

They really only work out when a decent portion of cheese is used to adhere the bread and/or filling.

So, whenever I visit Bill's on Juniper and Sansom, I am again thankful that I am not quite vegan and will sacrifice a bit of gastrointestinal discomfort for the sake of a delicious lunch. Bill's offers an array of soups, sandwiches, and salads, but unlike typical Philly luncheons featuring cheesesteaks, hoagies, heavy Italian dishes, and greasy meat dishes, Bill stocks his kitchen with plenty of fresh ingredients and offers a wide variety of not-quite-vegan vegetarian options. His unchanging daily specials might as well be menu items, and I wish they were since they're my favorite selections: a grilled eggplant sandwich on a long roll with cheese and tomato sauce, and--my latest obsession--a panino of spinach, grilled peppers, tomato, and mozzerella or feta on Le Bus multigrain bread. I think the bread totally makes the sandwich. I get it with sharp provolone instead of the listed cheese options, since that tends to be (supposedly AND in practice) a little easier on the lactose-sensitive intestines. And it is d-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s: grilled to a perfect golden brown, with just the right amount of veggies packed-in/spilling-out, all held together with a smooth, firm paste of melted provolone. After months (literally) of passing Bill and his specials sign, my taste buds discovered this concoction yesterday, and I went back today for another one since I liked it so much.

And an added bonus--the staff is delightful. Friendly, funny, and with the usual Philly brusque-ness but tempered by a congeniality that can be hard to find in this city. The woman who took my order checked with Bill, who was working the grill, to see if there was an upcharge for the cheese substitution (there wasn't), and she not only remembered me when I came in today, but remembered my beverage preferences (half lemonade, half unsweetened iced tea, not much ice, wedge of lemon). Service with a smile is refreshing these days (and especially in these parts), and Bill and company can count on many more visits from this non-vegan sandwich aficionado.

*PSA: "Panini" is in fact the plural of "panino." So you want a panino and we want panini. Si? Bene.