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Thu, 13 Nov 2003

My Indian recommendations in London

Someone asked about Indian food in London, which is plentiful and generally excellent. Here are my three top choices:

1. The Veeraswamy, Victory House, 99 Regent St., W1. This is said to be the oldest Indian restaurant in the UK, but you would not know it from the interior, which is hypermodern, bright colors, blond wood and glass fittings, awesome wine list, and a really up-to-date menu with both traditional and fusion cooking. This is one of my favourite places. This is superstar Indian cuisine, not neighborhood curry-house fare. I don't know anything like it in California; it's way better than places like Gaylord's or Amber. Its only equal that I know of is The Oven, in Lincoln, Nebraska.

2. Bombay Brasserie, near Gloucester Rd. underground station, 140 Courtfield Close, SW7 (South Kensington). More traditional cooking, largely Punjabi (also some Bombay and Goa specialties), but lots of stuff you don't see on menus elsewhere, plus a great atmosphere (sort of "Last Days of the Raj", if you know what I mean). Whenever I stayed in South Ken I ate there quite a bit.

3. Jubraj, Park Parade, Gunnersbury Ave., Ealing W3. Tube: Acton Town. Yeah, it's way the heck out in Ealing, but worth it. This place is more like the better Indian restaurants in Calfornia; you'll recognize the names of dishes. But they're just really good, especially the balti dishes and the tandooris. I just happened to be driving by one day with a friend, on our way back from a road trip to Wales, and we were hungry for Indian food just at the time we passed the place, decided to stop in, and it was very good. Probably cheaper than the other two.

There are also a number of good Indian places in Brick Lane. Nothing spectacular that I know of, but I've eaten at a couple and was reasonably impressed.

Posted at 01:06 | permanent link

Fri, 20 Jun 2003

Three Cheeses

I love cheese. I have no particular interest in gambling or the lottery, but I agree with a friend who, at dinner, brought up a particular television commercial for the California Lottery, which shows a dairy case with a wonderful assortment of cheeses, and the voice over, presumably of a winner, saying, "...And then it hit me: I could totally afford all this cheese."

So, tending as I do toward the low-carb end of the culinary world, cheese is a regular favourite around here. (I would find it very hard to comply with a diet that was cheeseless, and last Christmas my standard greeting-card quip was, "What a Friend We Have in Cheeses.")

That said, what's new in my cheese world? I dearly love aged cheddar, soft runny bries and camemberts, various blue-veined specialties like Cambozola, but three cheeses with which I had not been previously acquainted have come to the forefront this year.

Boschetto di Tartufo: This had such an unusual flavour that I wondered what it had in it. It's a combination of sheep's and cow's milk, comes from Italy, and if your Italian is up to snuff, you'd know it was flavoured with black truffles (tartufo). I happened upon some at Bryan's Market in San Francisco, and that's the only place I've seen it so far.

The cheese itself is a semisoft round with a mild, slightly sweet taste, but the truffle (white truffle, tuber albidium) lends a deep, smoky, musky, flavour that is unmistakeable. You take the first bite and look up suddenly with a "what the heck was that?" expression.

Some people recommend eating it with a crust of bread, but I just slice and eat. As with truffles themselves, a thin slice maximizes the aroma and flavour per bite. Look for this at cheese shops and groceries with serious cheese sections; it's a little obscure.

Halloumi: Here's another one with a slight offbeat flavour: Halloumi Greek Cheese. I was shopping in my neighborhood supermarket (which is actually a well-stocked Raley's) and found a bright blue-and white polybag pack from the G. & I. Keses Dairy Products company, labeled "The Authentic Gourmet Halloumi Cheese of Cyprus". Couldn't resist that!

G. & I. Keses notes halloumi's versatility, that is, as an eating cheese, a grilled cheese (it will grill up nicely, not melt and flee), and it can be baked into a cheese pie. Similarly, you can pan-fry it, with or without a coating. You can even use it for saganaki (fried cheese flambé) although kasseri is more commonly used for that.

It, too, is a blend, this one of sheep's and goat's milk, and an unusual texture: it flakes apart in tiny layers which have been folded into the cheese's semi-circular shape. I've only gotten as far as eating it at room temperature, with fruit or cold cuts, but I'm jazzed about cooking with it, too.

Pecorino Pepato: Back to Italy for today's third cheese. Pecorino is a well-known sheep's milk cheese, often aged and dried and used for grating. Most comes from Sardinia. "Pepato", of course, is "peppered", and this cheese has grains of cracked black pepper that give it a spicy taste. The pepato that makes it to export markets is usually aged 3-6 months, meaning that it's still soft enough to just slice and eat as a table cheese. Other pecorinos would probably work better for grating, since it's hard to just add the right amount of black pepper to the dish using the cheese.

I eat this alone, or with crostini. It's awesome with salads of all sorts -- caesar, leaf lettuce, chard, endive, arugula, and other greens, dressed with balsamic vinegar and plain or flavoured olive oils.

Posted at 18:06 | permanent link

Sun, 04 May 2003

Darda Seafood and Islamic Chinese Cuisine

I confess to not knowing a lot about Islamic Chinese food, except that there's usally bread and lamb, and there obviously won't be pork. Many Islamic Chinese restaurants seem to be in stealth mode, that is, their customers know where they are, and the menu reveals all, but they don't have a sign in the window or anything, and often get missed by guides to Asian cuisine that manage to hit the high spots like Szechuan and Hunan, or even Hakka and Chiu Chow, but miss the Islamic style. (Actually, it occurs to me that one place, Fatima Seafood, on De Anza on the Cupertino/San Jose border, does have a neon sign saying "Islamic Chinese Cuisine" in its window.)

Some of my correspondents identify Islamic Chinese as a "northern" or "Mandarin" style, but I'm not sure what's up with that. The Mandarins (a class of overlords in Beijing) were not, themselves, Muslims; it may mean that Islamic cuisine is common in Beijing. Paradoxically, a number of Islamic Chinese restaurants, at least locally, have "seafood" in their name, which seems odd since the northern interior of China, Xinjiang, and Mongolia are known for grains and meats, and not seafood. The most numerous Muslim group in China are the Uighurs, who live in the northwest, far from the sea. According to published estimates of the distribution of Muslims in China, beyond the Uighurs in Xinjiang, the largest Muslim population is in Ningxia and Inner Mongolia, both of which are not nearly coastal.

So the seafood remains a mystery.

Nevertheless, places like Fatima and Darda pack 'em in nearly every night. I first noticed Darda in the aforementioned Milpitas Square shopping center one evening, but it looked like it was a bit too formidable for my appetite at that point since there appeared to be a significant wait for a table. (I think I got some cafeteria-style stuff at 99 Ranch instead.)

Nevertheless, I finally made it down there recently, talked my two dining companions into it on the way, and luckily there was no wait for a table. The first thing we noticed was that practically every table had ordered a round flat bread -- that turned out to be sesame onion bread on the menu -- and practically every table seemed to have a lamb dish or two as well. So we went with the flow, and it was very tasty.

The sesame onion bread comes in two forms, thick and thin. Thick is what we got, and it's about 2" high, round, and baked in layers, and appears to be made without much (or any) oil. It's covered with sesame seeds. Quite tasty, if a bit dry, and very similar to the "Mongolian bread" served at some Mongolian barbecue places like the original Colonel Lee's. The thin version is, I believe, pan-fried in oil, and is available at a number of other Chinese restaurants under the name "green onion pancake" or "scallion cakes". I get those frozen from Asian markets and fry them up at home.

The lamb in spicy garlic sauce was very thinly-sliced, almost shaved, and quickly stir-fried with some vegetables and a light brown sauce. It also resembled Mongolian barbecue. We added salt-baked (aka "spicy salt") fish filets, which is a standard item, as well as hand-pulled noodles with assorted meats and egg, likewise.

A nice introduction to a regional (well, ethnic multi-regional) cuisine I was not familiar with.

Posted at 19:31 | permanent link

Thu, 24 Apr 2003

Habana, Cuba

My Wednesday dinner group headed to San Jose for a Cuban meal at Habana Cuba. Except for a "gran Cubano sandwich" at the Manhattan Deli, a local sandwich shop here in Pleasanton, I don't think I've had a proper Cuban dinner since Jose's in Palo Alto closed a few years ago. (That was a great place, with house-made empanadas and Cuban-style barbecue, as well as the standard meats and fish dishes.)

Habana Cuba is more upscale than the neighborhood would suggest, although the interior layout of the place is nothing short of bizarre. (One wonders what the place was originally built as.) We were seated in a small mezzanine, which was good since Wednesday is live salsa music night -- great for dancing but not so hot for dinner conversation. The mezzanine was at least a little bit quieter than the main floor.

The assorted appetizer plate came first, with fried plantains, turkey croquettes, a potato-beef croquette, some delicious grilled pork chunks, and a garlic-and-oil sauce for dipping and dousing. Alas, I failed to get the Spanish names for all of these, and the appetizers are not on the menu page of the web site.

I had Lechón a la Cubana as a main course; this is roast pork over rice. The portions were large, and the pork, "baked in its own juices", was relatively moist, considering. It's sort of like a large order of carnitas from a taqueria (but not as juicy), or the meat you get from a roast pig. Great flavour, but it needed a sauce for contrast and to add moisture. The lechón was served with black beans (which were exceptional, but I'm not a big bean eater), and white rice, as well as the ever-present fried plantains. These were cut longitudinally and seemed more banana-like than the ones in the appetizer plate, which were sliced thin like potato chips.

(My only known food allergy is a mild reaction to bananas, which has kept me away from bananas and plaintains for years, but I've come to realize that it's only raw bananas that seem to be a problem, and fried plaintains caused none at all. They're still more starch and sugar than I should be eating, in any case.)

The other popular entree at the table was the Enchilado de Pescado, basically sea bass sauteed with bell peppers and onions in tomato sauce. (An enchilado is not an enchilada; no tortillas or anything similar appeared in the dish.) It was my second choice, but I'm glad I picked the pork, since reports on the sea bass were not favourable -- one person said it had that characteristic off-flavour that sea bass sometimes gets.

We skipped dessert, although the desserts looked somewhat tempting.

I do remember there being another Cuban restaurant in San Jose that I was dragged off to a couple of years ago while with friends at a science fiction convention at the Doubletree, but I'll have to go through my notes to find the name. All I remember is that (like Habana Cuba) it was on two floors, and we had to wait for a table. If you have a clue, please email me.

Posted at 19:22 | permanent link

Thu, 10 Apr 2003

Just some good chiles rellenos

I'm not a huge fan of Mexican food in general. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot to like, but in general, the version that makes it up here to Alta California, passes into the hands of corporate chains, or generic enchilada-tamale-tostada-flauta houses just does not thrill me. A lot of this has to do with the seasonings, and the overwhelming starchiness of a lot of the food.

I have a few favourites, and one of them, sadly, closed its doors last year. That was Casa Aguila in San Francisco, near 19th Ave. and Noriega, and though housed in a modest venue, had stupendous food. The heart of the menu was Acapulco-style fish and seafood, but the owners and chefs put original effort and innovation into every dish. And the menu described each dish in detail, even the method of cooking. My fave was the Pescado Jim Wood, named after the food critic (how can you go wrong there?), which was a complex dish with halibut and fruits and vegetables. I also liked the pork steak, not something you see everywhere. But alas.

My other standby for awesome Mexican in these parts is Guaymas, in Tiburon, which is fact a high-end sort of place, often with lengthy waits for a table, but the food is very interesting -- regional seafood, little hand-made tamales, and all sorts of different sauces. My notes from my first visit, in 1995, includes: potato-flour pastries filled with cilantro-marinated chicken, black beans, cheese, and chiles; seafood stew with prawns, squid, salmon, clams, and mussels, and a dessert of white chocolate mousse with strawberry sauce. Other visits featured a grilled seafood plate with baby octopus, squid, and prawns, and nopales with cheese, lime and cilantro. I don't make it up there enough at all.

But what brought this particular reverie to mind was that I had a business lunch at a perfectly nice, new-ish Mexican place in Redwood City called Los Portales, on Broadway. They're part of a small chain, I think, and seem to have sort of an upscale concept, although it's not fancy at all. I had the chiles rellenos in sour cream sauce, and they were wonderfully rich. I don't care much for the normal "red" and "brown" sauces found in typical Mexican cooking, but the cream sauce here, with little bits of chili peppers, was delightful. The rest of the menu looks pretty generic, but I'd eat the chiles rellenos here anytime.

Posted at 18:50 | permanent link

Sun, 06 Apr 2003

Milpitas Square and the new Chinatowns

The most interesting development in the restaurant world in the last decade or so, if you ask me, has been the rise of large all-Asian shopping centers in California suburbs.

Chinatowns, of course, are nothing new to California or other metropolitan areas, in the United States and elsewhere. One of the most famous Chinatowns is in San Francisco, where large-scale Chinese immigration dates back to the mid to late 19th century, in the form of support workers for the Gold Rush, service workers for the growing city, and then a huge influx of labourers to work on the transcontinental railroad.

While San Francisco's Chinatown was, comparatively speaking, a prosperous community for some, conditions for most were not ideal. The restaurant and souvenir-shop trade made it a major tourist attraction, but there was still a fair amount of substandard housing, crime, and little room to expand businesses or offer upscale alternatives.

As standards of living improved, and richer immigrants from Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Singapore arrived, there was the inevitable flight to the suburbs. The first suburbs were newer residential areas in San Francisco -- the Richmond and Sunset districts in the western part of the city. (Many visitors to San Francisco are not aware that a huge selection of Asian food, consumer goods, and other products exists along Clement St. in the Richmond District, and along Irving St. in the Sunset District.)

The newest Asian communities are many miles from the heart of San Francisco (and correspondingly, from Los Angeles as well). The communities of Milpitas, Fremont, and San Jose host many Asian and Asian-American families, a fair number of whom are associated with Silicon Valley high-tech businesses. And this has led to some amazing developments in the restaurant business.

There are many all-Asian shopping centers in California, but one of the largest is in Milpitas, near the junction of I-880 and Route 237. it's called Milpitas Square, it opened only a few years ago, and when I walked the length of the U-shaped strip, I counted no less than 17 eateries. And we're not talking food court here - these range from some small cafes to the large and elegant Mayflower Restaurant.

Anchoring the center is a 99 Ranch supermarket (worth a column in its own right), as well as satellite buildings with such establishments as a Chinese-speaking branch of Charles Schwab stockbrokers and several banks. But clearly the focus is on food.

I originally planned to eat my way through Milpitas Square in strict order, but it hasn't worked out that way. I did start at Cafe Wong Kee, at the north end (no memory of that meal, and no notes either), but quickly ended up jumping around. Next candidate was Hot Pot City, which I'll detail in a future episode, and then a little place that I think is called Pepper Lunch (but I'm not sure).

On a second or third visit I think I just ate at the cafeteria-style lunch counter at 99 Ranch, which offered some tasty Chinese barbecue (roast duck and pork) and some relatively indifferent but not altogether bad dim sum (mostly the pedestrian items like char siu bao, pot stickers, siu mai, har gow, etc.).

I'll have to look at my notes and total up my visits but I think I've made it to 8 or 10 of Milpitas Square's 17 candidates. Most recent was Darda Seafood (tomorrow's column).

Posted at 19:17 | permanent link

Fri, 04 Apr 2003

The origins of Berch on Food

One of my favourite T-shirts features Homer Simpson. In the first panel he utters his trademark "D'Oh!", in the next one "Nuts!", and in the last panel -- the resolution of this miniature drama -- his face assumes a beatific expression, and he closes his eyes, lost to the world, and murmurs, "Mmmmm....donuts."

I am, in fact, a real life Homer Simpson. (Those who know me will hopefully be too polite to mention the dead-on physical resemblance.) All my life, my thoughts have turned to food pretty much regardless of the immediate context of the conversation. I was finally startled into full recognition of this when, during a conversation on Volkswagen models, someone mentioned the Rabbit, and my first thought was of a very nice spit-roasted haunch of rabbit that I'd had at Spiedo in San Mateo.... about three years before.

The true origin of Berch on Food is an incident at Cafe Claude in San Francisco in 1998. This was a gathering of friends and acquaintances who met on Table Talk, a Web conferencing site run by Salon Magazine, and we got together to toast a visiting member from England. Sometime during the proceedings i was asked about steamed mussels, and within seconds I was holding forth at exceptional, and probably tedious, length about the difference between New Zealand green-lip mussels, Gironde mussels, the tiny Italian ones I had had on a pizza in Rome in the summer of 1968, and ... well, you get the idea.

My good friend Maggie took a photo of me in mid-disquisition, captioned it "Berch on Food", published it on the Web, and has relentlessly urged me to write about food since then. Thus: Berch on Food, writ large and with its own domain name and blog software to boot.

(The inescapable corollary to this, of course, is that due to my somewhat convex physique and rapacious technique with knife, fork, and chopsticks, it is not unheard of for there to be the odd slip or spill, leading my friend Paul to coin the phrase, "Food on Berch". Berch on Food and Food on Berch will remain, I fear, inextricably linked.)

So, in an attempt to recapture the unfocused peregrinations of my thoughts when it comes to food, BoF will take irregularly-timed digressions into various culinary and gustatory matters, both abstract and concrete, including reviews, criticism, speculation, reverie, or just plain ranting.

And I make but two promises:

• Everything you read here will be, to the best of my knowledge, true. While it might be fun to write a flight of fancy like "remembering" a childhood trip trip through, say, Perigord in search of white truffles, it ain't gonna happen. (Correction of factual matters is, of course, welcome at all times.)
• Berch on Food does not accept anything of value from any restaurant or other food vendor in exchange for mentions or reviews. This is largely because Berch on Food has not been offered anything of value by restaurants or other food vendors in exchange for mentions or reviews.

So then. Onward!

Posted at 22:25 | permanent link

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