Curry's Good, Katsu's Better: Muracci's Japanese Curry & Grill San Francisco

Open only for lunches and early dinner, Muracci's Japanese Curry in the Financial District of downtown San Francisco does brisk, delicious business.

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While famous for their curry, which is cooked for two days, this little shop's katsu (pork cutlet) needs more exposure. Although the curry was good, it didn't quite leave as splendid a lasting flavor as I had hoped. When I'm eating stew-like foods, I want each spoonful to be lip-smacking after each bite. Muracci's curry has complexity, but it doesn't seem to last long enough. This might have to do with the viscosity of the sauce. Plenty of flavor, but too thin to last on your palate after the last morsel slides down your gullet.



I will point out that the pork cutlet was the best I've had. Thick and juicy, it's tough with pork to keep it from drying out. Too many tonkatsus I've had rely too heavily on the sauce or breading to impart flavor. I almost mistook Muracci's pork for a chicken cutlet it was so tender. Additionally, I had the chicken katsu. While good, it lacked the depth of the pork.

I especially appreciated that Muracci's makes all the dishes to order, rare among counter, lunch-focused shops. The staff is also Japanese and very friendly. There is also a Los Gatos location for those hesitant to trek out to the downtown. Slightly pricey, (~$9) for a katsu curry, but what do you expect in the City?

Muracci's Japanese Curry and Grill
muraccissf.com
307 Kearny Street
San Francisco (Financial District), CA 94108-3204
415-773-1101

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Powderface Beignets at Fruitvale BART

Coincidentally, I had to go to the Fruitvale BART station the day after the verdict for the Oscar Grant shooting. It was actually rather empty and quiet on the platform where he was shot on New Year's Eve 2009.



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Downstairs, some of the stores still had their windows boarded up in anticipation of riots that never reached the station. Most of the commotion was centered around downtown Oakland.



I had seen Powerderface before, the only beignet shop I've found in the area, not that I've ever did a thorough search of pastry shops throughout the East Bay. $3.50 for a bag of three beignets. Looking at the wall, I saw a review from 2008 listing the beignets at six for $3.50. Quite a price increase for just two years. I guess that keeps up with market rate for pastries like Beard Papa's, which are outrageously expensive for what they are.



At least the beignets are made fresh to order. I watched her roll out the dough, cut it out and drop it into the deep fryer for 3-5 minutes. I have no idea how they handle a rush, but I got the feeling there weren't very many of those. Out of the fryer and onto the cooling rack. A dust of powder sugar. The heat and oil from the beignet melts some of the sugar into a fine glaze.



I bite into the first one. Flaky exterior, soft and yielding interior with just the right amount of gooey dough consistency. The beignets were lightly dusted with sugar so they weren't too sweet at all. I'd like to tell you how they compared to the famed Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, arguably the king of American beignets. However, I haven't been to the Big Easy since Katrina and honestly can't remember. I just remember the sugar high my brother had from those beignets. So at the very least, I can say Powderface probably scales back on the sugar to a much more desirable level.

If you have a few minutes in your morning BART commute, take a moment aside for yourself, a fresh beignet, and a cup of strong coffee.

Powderface
3411 East 12th Street, Ste. 134
Oakland, CA 94601
(Fruitvale BART station)
(510) 536-face (3223)
powderface.net

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Hot Day, Cool Market: Grand Lake Farmers' Market

Temperatures in the 80s are considered fairly hot in Oakland. In the shadow of the 580 freeway, cooled by a breeze coming off Lake Merritt, I checked out the Grand Lake Farmers' Market for the first time.
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Sad that I missed the Big Apple Barbecue Festival while I was back in California, I took a trip to Lake Merritt instead. I had made it a habit of frequenting the farmers' market near my apartment in New York on a weekly basis. Getting to know the vendors makes the experience rewarding, even if I'm paying more. It's best when they know their stuff and they can tell you everything about their product. I've learned much about duck, pickles and mushrooms this way. I knew there was a small farmers' market in my hometown of Alameda, but since I was missing out on pulled pork, ribs, and sausage, I figured I needed to go big to alleviate my malaise.

While parking was a headache in the lot, a few blocks away I found street parking. I quick walk along the lake was actually quite pleasant anyway. There were dozens of stalls. Most sold fruit. I saw a meat vendor, maybe some seafood too. A large number of stalls were actually selling prepared foods like olive oils, cheeses and jams. A separate section had several food stands. A quick glance revealed some Thai and Afghan food. Mediterranean also seemed a big hit.

One great thing about this market was the availability of samples. Almost every stall had little toothpicks flagging down the customers with their sweet and savory flavors. A great sample of peaches netted a purchase from me. But besides that, most things were understandably expensive. In all, the market was about one-third to a half of the size of the Santa Monica farmers' market.



Although I've never been to Cheeseboard, a failure I will eventually remedy, I had a chance to try another sister pizza co-op in Arizmendi not too far from the market. One pizza a day; that day's was a simple basil, tomato, and goat cheese. But living in New York has taught me one thing--good pizza is all about good ingredients. And simple can go a long way. I will say that California pizzas typically favor interesting toppings, while New York pizzas focus on core ingredients. For example, the pizza I had didn't even have tomato sauce. Unless it's a white pizza, you wouldn't see that in New York. Of course Zachary's is an exception to the deemphasis of tomato sauce in California. But then again, that's not exactly "California" pizza either. Arizmendi still delicious. Can't wait to try the mothership of co-op pizza.



Grand Lake/Lake Merritt Farmers' Market
splashpad.org/farmersmkt.html
Corner of Grand and Lake Park Avenue, across from Grand Lake Theater
9-2 every Saturday

Arizmendi Bakery
arizmendibakery.org
3265 Lakeshore Avenue
Oakland, CA
(510) 268-8849
Other locations in San Francisco, San Rafael, and Emeryville


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Skeen's 5 & Diamond

Admittedly, I haven't done nearly as much legwork on the NYC dining scene as I did when I was in LA. Somehow not having any income puts a damper on dining experiences. Go figure. Additionally, I live so far uptown that whenever I tell people I'm in Morningside Heights, they stare at me blankly and reply, "You mean Harlem." Well sure enough, when I found out there was an upscale restaurant within walking distance, I made sure to give it a try.

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As I mentioned, having done hardly any research into 5 & Diamond, I had only vaguely heard that some famous chef was at the helm. I noticed the young, bearded man walking to and fro carrying ingredients, but didn't make the connection until I got home. Of course I also didn't realize all the drama that has attended Chef Ryan Skeen. Regardless of the chef's personality, if he can cook, I'm coming back.


Starting with the seared scallops with morel puree, fava beans, pea shoots and sherry vinaigrette, Chef Skeen was already on my good side--beautifully seared scallops at perfect doneness balanced with a hearty, earthy morel sauce and piquant vinaigrette.


The burrata and panzanella with tomato, arugula, melted eggplant, and nicoise olive was huge for a small plate. Unfortunately, such a large dish lacked substance. With something like this, each ingredient has to be able to carry a flavor load on its own and I wasn't getting enough from each disparate piece. In short, no unity of taste.


Iowa Farms Pork Loin with white asparagus, ramps, pickled blueberries. Does food automatically taste better if you reveal the origin of the ingredients? At first, I didn't think that Iowa Farms would be worth mentioning, but apparently it is. It's good to see independent farms. Doesn't everyone hate industrial agribusinesses? The loin was indeed tender and the accouterments were clutch. Pickled blueberries were a clever way to bring in the sweet along with the tart. This dish would have been been improved by some browning however. A few grill marks would've done wonders.


The Burger. That's all it's listed as on the menu. I may not have done much research, but I at least knew this was the burger that Chef Skeen had perfected at Irving Mill. A house-ground combination of beef cheek, flap steak, and pork fatback, the flavor was much more porky than beefy. It made for a juicy burger that certainly stayed on my lips for quite awhile, but lacked the deep beef flavor of Minetta Tavern's Black Label Burger. The waiter mentioned that the chef was experimenting with chips instead of the usual fries. The chips came with a barbecue seasoning fairly typical for barbecue chips. They will leave me forever wondering whether Skeen does his fries thick or thin.


Would this be considered deconstructed cheesecake with grapefruit, meringue and tarragon? Is it deconstructed because it is a cake in a bowl with no real crust? I'm never quite sure what the term "deconstructed" means, but since so many people use it, I'm going to go out on a limb and apply it to my dessert. Having no crust, the cheesecake would've lacked that signature grittiness that all cheesecakes have as the crust gets macerated along with the cheese filling.

Having heard all the news about Skeen's issues with the front of house staff, I would note that the service tonight was clumsy and sophomoric. The waiter didn't know the food well enough; he couldn't tell me what kind of cheese came on the burger. Another table asked him what "ramps" were and he was at a loss. Normally that is not such a huge problem, especially if he just admits he doesn't know and comes back later with the answer, but two in a row reflects badly on the restaurant. I was also the only table at the restaurant for about 45 minutes and still had to wait quite awhile for my food and drink service. This little service issues can certainly be ironed out and weren't bad enough to detract too strongly from the food, but I would be hesitant to come on a busy night when the waiters have even more of a challenge to juggle.

I'll come back for the food. But I'll come back just to support these kind of restaurants. There aren't enough upscale dining options in Harlem, and since downtowners lumps me in with the neighborhood, I should do my best to support it.

5 & Diamond
2072 Frederick Douglass Blvd.
Harlem, NY 10026
(646) 684-4662
$16 Burrata
$13 Scallops
$26 Pork loin
$13 Burger
$8 Cheesecake

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What Is "Ethnic" Food?

Steak vs. Fried Goat Udders - Which one seems more ethnic?

What is ethnic food? Is it anything foreign? America prides itself on its cultural diversity. This melting pot of…well, melting pots, is home to almost every type of cuisine on the planet. Yet how is it that we have a limited ideal of “American” foods as burgers, pizza and hot dogs. Or maybe for the more liberal, American food is anything that is fatty, salty or too sweet.
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Burger from The Counter - pretty safely not ethnic

The term “ethnic food” is ambiguous. We tend to have a good idea of the foods on either polar extremes of the line. Despite the cultural origins on many of our favorite foods, some of them are unabashedly American now—French fries, steak, and apple pie come to mind. On the other side, foods associated with exotic locales like Thai or Ethiopian are pretty clearly ethnic. Problems occur on the line as America assimilates more and more into its mainstream cuisine. Do people consider Italian food ethnic? Maybe if you were eating sweet corn agnolotti, but spaghetti with meat sauce is about as American as it gets.

More perplexing is whether soul food is considered “ethnic.” Some aspects of soul food are reflexively American like mac ‘n’ cheese or fried chicken, but what about chitterlings and pigs’ feet? Classifying soul food faces the uncomfortable question of whether being American means being white. But for many Americans, especially away from the Deep South, soul food is just as foreign as pad thai.


Polish Pierogi

What about food that is undoubtedly white but just never made it big in America? Polish pierogi are just rare enough to be ethnic, but kielbasas are as common as tailgate parties. Would you therefore say that Polish food is ethnic?

Of course there are also those who describe ethnic when they really mean authentic. And by authentic, they mean non-Americanized. I could take a friend out for Chinese food and depending on what we ordered, you could say it was both ethnic and not. Sweet and sour pork, eggrolls, and chow mein just don’t seem that foreign for most of America these days. Tacos might bring to mind images of haciendas and senoritas, but burritos resonate with gas station microwaves and Taco Bells.

More likely, we associate American food to cooking styles. Barbecue is an American institution. Grilling, also very American. We tend to like fire, and lots of it. And of course, only in American will you find deep fried Coke and KFC Double Downs.

Or is it something inherent in the culture of the food that makes it American. Do we associate ourselves with cowboy independence and self-subsistence? Maybe we identify ourselves as the big beef eaters, preferably wrapped in bacon. Unfortunately, for some, being American is about being bigoted and self-righteous, in which case, “Hello, Freedom Fries!”

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Miracle Fruit Flavor Tripping Party

Last week I helped throw a flavor tripping party for Gastronomy Society. We purchased Miracle Fruit Tablets online since we were expecting a big group and the fresh fruit would have been cumbersome and expensive. With a list of tasting recommendations, I went shopping for sours, bitter, and spicy foods. This was my first experience with miracle fruit and I wanted to get a variety of flavors.

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I first read about the wonders of miracle fruit in a New York Times article last year. It occurred to me that the best way to experience the sensory-altering Synsepalum dulcificum would be in a party setting. It's not like I'm going to finish lemons and jars of pickles on my own. A shopping list of sour foods isn't all that practical in large amounts. In fact, going through checkout at the grocery was an odd experience itself. I got a weird look from the cashier when I paid for lemons, limes, grapefruits, olives, pickles, salt and vinegar chips, wasabi peas, sour patch kids, and a bottle of balsamic vinegar.

Miracle fruit gets its unique properties from a glycoprotein called miraculin; yes that's seriously what it's called. Though the actual mechanism does not seem to be fully understood, miraculin binds with flavor receptors on the tongue so that these receptors respond to tart acids as well as sweetness. The effect is that formerly sour foods become sweet and formerly sweet foods can become overly cloying. Miracle fruit had grown in West Africa for some time, and had even been floated as a sugar substitute for diabetic and dieters in the 1970s. Unfortunately, a last minute change by the FDA shelved the widespread introduction in the US.

The tablet I had tasted vaguely like raisins. I couldn't tell if that was the flavor the fruit was supposed to have or if it was an additive. The trick is to let the pill dissolve on your tongue. I had quite a few people coming back to me to ask for more tablets because they chewed and swallowed the first one. With my tongue sufficiently activated with miraculin, I picked up a plate of enough acidic foods to wear away the enamel on my teeth.

I started with the pickle. Not much of an effect. I intentionally avoided sweet pickles and bought dill slices in hopes that the fruit would do its work. Sour Patch Kids lose much of their appeal when they are just Sweet Patch Kids. Wasabi peas were easy to just pop into your mouth and forget about. The pill probably tapered off some of the harshness of the wasabi, but it still tasted about the same. Salt and vinegar chips were oddly sweet. Not sure they were quite as satisfying without the sourness. I didn't bother with the cheap balsamic. People told me it tasted like bad wine. I have a bottle of seven-year aged balsamic from Italy that's sweet enough by itself to drink from a glass. I didn't need a miracle for that to be delicious (especially on strawberries and vanilla ice cream)

The best foods to eat with the miracle fruit effects were the citruses. Lemons, limes, grapefruits, I could just bite into the slices like oranges. The bitterness of grapefruit wore away, the main reason I avoided pamplemousse before. The lemon and lime, stripped of their acidity, expressed their unique flavors more readily. It was an opportunity to appreciate the lemon and lime for more than the juice, in the same way the zest gives you those essential oils without the mouth puckering. Too often lemon-lime flavors are conflated in artificial flavorings. They're really not the same. Stripping away the juice gives them them the chance to express their inner fruitiness.

The party wrapped up since our keg of Guinness couldn't be tapped. Did you know Guinness kegs require special taps? Keep that in mind if you ever order one. About an hour after most people left, the store brought us a few cases of bottled Guinness. At this point it was mostly just the Gastronomy Society board that remained. We celebrated with the dark beer, which combined with the miracle fruit, was creamy like a milkshake and much smoother to drink. This was the last event of a year of chocolate and cheese tastings, movie nights, taco trips, dumpling crawls and Indian buffets. I'm taking event suggestions for next year now, and miracle fruit party is on the top of the list.

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Fatty Crab on the Upper West Side

The dim red bulb lit up walls of retro pornography while a speaker played out the familiar ping and pong of a distant table tennis match. This was the oddest bathroom I've been in. I was locked in the unisex bathroom trying to wash my hands of the thick red sambal for the third time. But the hearty smell of crustacean wasn't coming off. Alas, I walk back to my table just in time for the check and a delightful dish of complimentary mochi cake dessert.

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The crunchy crust and the jelly interior of the cake was pleasant, maybe not pleasant enough to offset the $48 for a dungeness crab. Before I made my reservation, I had set a price goal for myself at $30. I wasn't going to order the chili crab if it was more than that. When the waiter came around, I asked him for the market price and got my meal chilling quote. Sounds a bit high, what the range? Maybe I could justify ordering it if it was usually around $50. Nope. $48 was the highest they've ever charged. I glanced down through the small plates and the entrees. Short rib rendang, watermelon pickle and crispy pork, fatty duck? I briefly considered each of these alternatives, but each time my mind went back to the chili crab. How could I come to Fatty Crab and not order their signature dish? How could I give it an adequate review without it?


Fatty Dog - XO sausage, pickled chili, radish, aioli

I started with the Fatty Dog appetizer/small plate. A completely forgettable dish, I would've been as satisfied with a $5 hot dog than a $13 Fatty Dog. There was a certain sweetness component that was missing from the dog that would've kicked it up a little more towards its price. For a restaurant of supposedly spicy and flavorful dishes, the dog lacked any Southeast Asian vigor.


Chili Crab - crab, chili sauce, white toast

The namesake dish came to the table. Crab, chili sauce, and white toast? The ingredient list on the menu was deceptively simple. The chili sauce could be composed of dozens of ingredients itself. I've been eating crab since I was a kid. I'd proclaim myself a crab eating expert after the countless family meals we'd have gathered around a lazy Susan at various Chinese seafood restaurants around the Bay Area. I could dissect and consume the shelled 8-legged creature faster than some people carve up a crab cake. And being from San Francisco, dungeness was my crab of choice.

I cracked through a leg, plenty of flavor on the shell, but too little penetration into the meat. This normally wouldn't be too big a problem if the crab was fresh, as the sweetness of the meat would be more than sufficient. However, this crab had been frozen a bit too long (as if any freezing was okay). The restaurant could have cracked the shells slightly to allow the aroma to permeate. The best part of the dish was the pool of sauce at the bottom of the bowl ready to be sopped up by the toast or the coconut rice I ordered on the side. Still, I'll save my money for a plane ticket back home, when I can eat crab fresh off the dock. I have high standards for crab and I refuse to compromise.

Fatty Crab
fattycrab.com
2170 Broadway
Upper West Side, NY 10024
(212)496-CRAB

Another location:
643 Hudson St
West Village, NY 10014
(212)352-3592

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