Last Friday (October 1st) was my birthday. I sat at home - alone - and fixed myself a filet of fish, some fried eggs , and a toasted bagel with some jelly as my birthday pastry. I enjoyed the one station that is somewhat viewable on my TV set as I ate. KRON 4 played an hour special on pests that could harm your Fall vegetable garden and offered a few helpful tips. I was glued to the set, and became upset whenever they interrupted the program with the commercials of their two remaining advertisers. And I was home alone - did I already mention that?
No, actually, I had a most memorable meal with some friends at a small french restaurant called Chez Papa. The restaurant I had hoped Quince would be (read my September 28 entry) turned out to be a hip but intimate and friendly bistro on Potrero Hill. The food was deeply satisfying: rich, robust flavors without the overuse of cream to weigh down the dishes. Between the five of us, we must have ordered at least half of the dishes (small and large) on the menu, as well as all but one dessert. Try the open-faced mushroom ravioli - a dish so simple, full-bodied, and elegant that I felt I was dining at one of the finest restaurants in the state. Although nothing, in my opinion, was as delicious as the ravioli, everything was more than satisfactory. Mussels (brought over from a sister restaurant, Plouf), beet salad, braised lamb, flank steak, tart tatin, chocolate souffle were all standouts. But the best thing about the restaurant is the price - three courses and drinks will hardly cost you more than $50, if even that.
For you francophobes who avoid French restaurants on the assumption that the French are snooty, I implore you to try Chez Papa. You will be surprised and amazed to find that the staff are friendly, well groomed, without body odor, and with well-brushed teeth. Actually, our waiter for the evening (Caleb) was one of the best waiters I've ever had. Friendly, professional, but above all, he was eager to offer suggestions for everything from the wine to the desserts, and he never had a miss. The mark of an outstanding waiter. I can't stand waiters who sort of shrug and say, "I don't know... it's all good" or "it depends". Depends on what, you moron? Maybe it depends on your tip - now chop chop and give me a recommendation. Better yet, send us a new waiter. Sorry... that was supposed to be my inner voice. Caleb even knelt subtly next to the person farthest from me at the table to ask her for my name so they could sing me happy birthday. Of course, her husband, using his outdoor voice, kept asking her what the waiter was asking. And although I could tell by her expression that the waiter must have asked something having to do with my birthday, her husband persisted cluelessly in inquiring. Oh Danny.
As the evening wound down, one of the restaurant partners came by with a delicious Muscat dessert wine (on the maison!) for the entire table. Although it's big things like the food that endears a restaurant to your stomach, it's the little things like this that binds it to your heart. Chez Papa, one of my top ten restaurants in San Francisco.
Tip: walk outside to the street after dinner and enjoy one of the most stunning views of the downtown skyline.
Monday, October 04, 2004
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