It's Easier to Just Go Out

You know, almost every night of the week—out of habit on weekdays and principle on weekends—I consider dining out.  I wasn't raised on take-out or at a series of chain restaurants, so what makes me such a sucker for them now?  A good, three-dish meal of a main and two sides or a salad is what I think of as a normal dinner.  Yet I'm constantly yearning for an appetizer, entree and dessert.  What is wrong with me!?

In Sydney for work, I've got a list of restaurants a mile long, recommended by coworkers, ex-pats, clients and even the hotel concierge.  And I wouldn't really be comfortable not knowing where to go for pizza or sushi for two weeks.  But what's surprising is that I have the same approach at home in SF.

7x7 Magazine arrives monthly.  Since that's not nearly often enough, I receive daily emails about restaurant openings, celebrity chef gossip or recipes (depending), and the hottest menu items across the city.  7x7 isn't the only daily food newsletter I read.  I also get Tasting Table, Daily Candy, FoodBuzz, Fresh Guide, SF Magazine and Bloomspot.  Between these emails, "water cooler" talk, impressing visiting friends and a desire to conquer great-tasting food in general, my brain could explode with dinner options.  Is this why I want to go out every night?  To stay in the game?

Then again, it's really easy to go out.  Once seated in a sushi restaurant, edamame is nearly instant and sashimi is about 10 minutes out of the gate.  If I'm hungry now, sushi gets it done.  Mexican restaurants get salsa in my belly in even less time.  If the name of the game is quantity, I can get more burrito for my buck than a lot of supermarket proteins.  Is that why I want to go out?  Because it's quick and satisfying?

I don't know when food culture turned from sustenance to obsession.  For me, dining is so many things: comforting; catching up with the person dining with me; a link to a past mood/experience/flavor; even an adventure with a sense of accomplishment at its culmination.  What other action on earth provides so many opportunities?

But I'm rationalizing the appeal of restaurants on a daily basis—why am I not creating these experiences at home night after night?  The truth is, I would if I could.  I love to wake up on a weekend morning with nothing on my mind except how complicated of a meal I can create all day.  I love buying the ingredients and imagining their transformation, sometimes giddy about how sneaky I'll be: "when I'm done with you, you won't even know what you started as!"  Great ingredients are exciting.  I love imagining, then literally selecting which pans I'll use; like a painter choosing brushes.  I love the choreography of the kitchen, from fine calculations that will keep everything moving forward, hot, and on the same schedule, to the cleverness in reusing tools at just the right moment.  I love the smells and the textures and the taste, but you already knew all that!  All of these things just feel impossible during the work week.  Long days at work, regardless of the number of hours, and I'm ready for all those wonderful reasons I cook to be overpowered by two thoughts: someone else doing the heavy lifting and being able to taste something delicious almost immediately.

So what have I learned, putting this down in writing?  Apparently, the biggest driver for me to dine out is ease.  I always thought it was an insatiable desire to taste new things in new environments with great company.  In reality, I would enjoy cooking my own tasting menu for a group of friends much more than in a restaurant.  But I still want a burrito on a Thursday night because it's been a rough week, I'm tired, I don't want to stand up for 2 hours peeling vegetables and dangit, I want it right now!

All said, I still want to eat at all the best restaurants.  That doesn't go away.  Yet I realize that's a desire which more closely resembles wanderlust or dress envy.  What drives me to frivolously dine out year round is blatant laziness.  Whew, glad I figured that out.

Il Portico

Our waiter plus our hosts Shelly and Enda

A true gem on Kensington High Street, our recent trip to London would not have been nearly so impressive had we not dined at Il Portico.  It claims to be London's oldest family-run restaurant, however the history and/or PR-ability of it paled in comparison to the food itself.  Simple dishes with minimal flavor corrections: light-as-air gnocchi with gorgonzola cheese.  Spaghettini alle vongole with al dente spaghetti, tender clams and an olive oil, chile oil and white wine sauce.  Minstrone with cabbage and real chicken stock.  Nothing overpowering, nothing out of place.  It was divine Italian.

The Gift of Greek

 For mom's birthday this year, a Greek feast seemed quite fitting.  After such a decadent year, we went for a rustic, simple meal:

• Tzatziki with sweet baguette
• Kalamata olives
• Avgolemono soup
• Lamb Kleftiko
• Baclava with vanilla bean ice cream

The tzatziki recipe called for more attention to detail than I'd given the dish before—2 Tbsp lemon juice and white pepper were impressive additions.  From past experience, I reduced the suggestion of 6 cloves of garlic to just 1, and was glad for it.  For the cucumbers, I grated one and thinly sliced the other for texture contrast, before drying them on paper towels for 30 min.

• 3 tbsp. olive oil
• 1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
• 1 clove garlic, minced finely
• 1 tsp. salt
• 1/2 tsp. white pepper
• 4 cups greek yogurt, strained
• 1 cup sour cream
• 2 cucumbers, peeled, seeded and grated or sliced extra thinly
• 4 tsp. chopped fresh dill

My mom would prepare avgolemono soup from time to time when we were growing up and it was always comforting and surprisingly tangy, a wonderful remedy for a cold winter night.  Our version was made with rice instead of orzo, so it had less lemony tang and more starch. 

• 12 c. chicken broth
• 2 c. rice
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 4 eggs
• Juice of 4 lemons

While we found a variety of Kleftiko recipes online and in the Greek cookbooks I brought home, it seemed like the best way to achieve the glory of a Mama Thira dish would be to go by feel.  We started with a pound of lamb and diced it, removing all fat so only the olive oil would flavor it.  In a deep sautee pan, we simmered chopped yellow onions, diced golden potatoes and as much oregano, fresh dill, basil, mint and garlic as we could.  The kitchen was so filled with the aromas of a Greek taverna, I could practically feel the Mediterranean sun.  Once the potatoes were softened, after about 20-30 min, we added the lamb, salt and pepper.  Separately, in the oven, super-thinly sliced potatoes sprayed with olive oil and sea salt were broiled until golden and crispy.  To create each plate, we first made a ring of crispy potato slices.  On top went a serving of the herbed lamb and potato.  Finally, chopped tomato was placed around the meat, tzatziki drizzled on top and a sprig of rosemary for garnish.

• 1 lb. lamb, trimmed and diced
• 2 large yellow onions, diced
• 4 medium golden potatoes, sliced thinly
• 4 medium golden potatoes, diced
• 2 Tbs (or more, to taste) fresh dill, oregano, rosemary & thyme
• Chopped tomato, for garnish
• Tzatziki, for garnish

We made the baclava while the Kleftiko was in progress.  Ignoring the recipe's suggestion to layer up to 5 pieces of phyllo between each brushing of butter and nuts, we made each layer its own contributor to the final product:

• 1 package phyllo dough
• 1/2 lb. butter
• 1 lb. chopped nuts (walnuts, almonds, pistachios)
• Lots of cinnamon
• 1/2 cup honey
• 1 cup water
• Lime zest

We actually used much more than a pound of nuts and discovered that only one cup of water boiled with the honey wasn't enough syrup.  Next time, enough syrup to practically drown the pastry is a must!

Mama Thira

Our first night in gorgeous Santorini, we ventured only 50 ft outside Firostefani to Mama Thira.  Overlooking the caldera with two-story, unobstructed views, our table was set at a diagonal so we could both face the windows and the stunning scenery below.  Our diet of lamb—in many and any form—led us to discover Kleftiko, a lamb and yogurt baked dish.  We read that Kleftiko translates to 'bandit's lamb' because when times were tough, thieves would steal fresh lambs and cook them inside a closed pot so the farmers couldn't smell or see the savory smoke!  Add some potatoes, carrots, yogurt and tomato, and this clay pot is seriously delicious.

Firostefani by night

It was perhaps backwards for us to try Kleftiko for the first time at Mama Thira, since their version was a culinary event: deconstructed to a layered masterpiece of crispy scalloped potatoes, soft cubed potatoes, carrots, fresh tomato, bite-sized and oh-so-tender lamb in all the comforting Greek spices.  On top, tzatziki was generously drizzled and garnished with parsley and parmesan.  Simple and traditional comfort food made beautiful.  And the presentation was only half the event: the cubed lamb was impossibly tender on the inside while crispy and herb-encrusted on the outside.  Each bite was a mix of oregano, dill and garlic with that significant olive oil flavor that only seems possible to achieve in the Mediterranean.

"Deconstructed" Kleftiko at Mama Thira

Mama Thira initially drew us in with their appetizer sampler of my three favorite spreads: tzatziki, taramosalata and melezane.  Tzatziki was a staple at every meal of ours with creamy, garlicky yogurt often filled with shredded cucumber, mint and sliced garlic.  A drizzle of fragrant olive oil and I'm in heaven.  John wasn't as big a fan of the Tarama, salty fish roe pureed with potato and yogurt, but I'm a sucker for that salty sea flavor.  The melezane, typically roasted eggplant with garlic and roasted red bell pepper, was especially good without being overly oily.  My ouzo paired magnificently with the powerful garlic in each spread.

Tzatziki, Melezane & Tarama

We loved our experience so much, we decided (pretty much on the spot) that we would be back again before we left Santorini.  Only our last night on the island seemed fitting!

Blowfish Sushi

Potrero Hill is so unassuming!  I'm sure if I spent more time there, I would recognize the restaurants among the warehouses, but I'm currently pleasantly surprised every time I pull up in front of a much-talked-about restaurant on a quiet, dark street like Bryant or Mariposa.  Blowfish Sushi (To Die For) (it's part of the name) was participating in SF's Dine About Town with a killer prix fixe menu tonight.  Ritsu roll: tuna, avocado and tobiko flash-tempura-fried; Chirashi chef's choice with the rawest prawn I've swallowed and salty giant roe; finally green tea cheesecake with green tea ice cream and an impressive spun sugar swirl.  My dates thought the clam and prawn were a little too much raw texture to stomach, but I love to try something a little different.  I couldn't get enough of the giant roe either, mixed in with some sweet sushi rice and extra fresh, extra potent wasabi.