Anyway, we really wanted to go to Uva, my favorite place in SF ever—it’s an Italian small plates/wine place (an “enoteca”) in Upper Haight. Cav was much closer to Davies Symphony Hall, so we ended up eating there instead (after deciding Bistro Clovis was not “for us”). I had never been or had any reason to believe Cav would be any good, but it was amazing. The waitress had lots of opinions and advice to offer, and she was SASSY as all get out. (Also I’m pretty sure she was flirting with Chris! the hussy!) We took her advice and had a selection of the appetizers, followed by the cheese and charcuterie plates. No pictures of the appetizers, unfort (*sniffle*) but they were:

• Braised baby octopus with roasted garbanzo beans and cherry tomatoes. Delicious! The garbanzo beans were still somewhat green; this gives your teeth just enough resistance and keeps its flavor “nutty.” The other stuff on the plate was really good too.
• Beer-batter tempura squash blossoms with mahi mahi ceviche and tempura zucchini. Good, but honestly was somewhat over-fancy. Maybe I’m just not easily impressed with $12 plates of “deep fried stuff,” but it was definitely the best of this time-honored appetizer genre I have tasted. Also, I’m not a huge fan of ceviche, mostly because I can never tell if it’s too citrusy.
• Crispy pig trotters with poached quail eggs, frisée, pickled vegetables, and mustard vinaigrette. Om nom nom. I was scared they were going to bring us a whole pig foot, but no, it was three circular disks of deep fried pork… and it was oh so good. The quail egg went perfectly with the pork (though I was sad there were only two of them), and the vegetables also matched quite well. The vinaigrette might have been a tad more sour than I would like in an ideal world, but in our imperfect world this was a formidable appetizer.

The cheese plate! (A choice of three from the list.)

(Picture was on Chris’ phone, which was not made by Steve Jobs… for shame.) There’s lots more than cheese on the plate, obviously. The cheeses were (from left to right)

• Queso Azul de Cabrales. (The cheese of my people!*) A Spanish blue made from a mix of sheep and goat milk! Ours was this interesting deep brown color, and true to both its blue cheese and Spanish cheese roots, it was very very strong. Chris figured out that you have to close your mouth and just let it sit a while, because the pungency sort of tingles your tongue and stimulates different taste buds as it melts… some sort of interesting, unfolding evolution of flavor. The wikipedia entry reports that some cheese tasters report a “numbing sensation” to the tip of the tongue after eating it, and I totally believe this. A++, would buy again.
• Brillat Savarin. A triple cream brie from Normandy named after a French political figure and gastronome (thanks WP!). The texture was amazingly rich and velvety, and it tasted like heaven. It reportedly pairs perfectly with champagne, and I’m going to have to try that sometime if I can hunt some of this cheese down. :9 Maybe the Cheeseboard stocks it? Preparing it en croûte (baked in a pastry shell) would make it even better I imagine… it would come out all nice and oozy. (Oh god.)
• Québec Seven Year Vintage Cheddar. The name says it all… this was our waitress’ choice, and she did not disappoint us. Certainly you all know the difference between the cheez-its white cheddar and the much tastier stuff you can get in blocks at Whole Foods—this cheese was light years away from all that. It was set seven years ago and this is definitely reflected in the taste.

The charcuterie plate!

I have less to say about the plate of meats, though it was also quite good. Cheese is just so interesting and fun to describe (despite the difficulty of conveying gustation and olfaction through clumsy ol’ words). Anyway! Counter-clockwise from the center bottom: (1) Prosciutto, (2) Coppa, (3) Leonese chorizo (The sausage of my people!), (4) Duck prosciutto (I think), (5) Salami, (6) Pancetta, (7) Duck liver pâté, (8) Pork liver terrine, (9) Roast beef tongue with horseradish, (10) Another liver pâté (?), (11) Head cheese, (12) Pheasant gallantine. If it’s not clear, (1-3,5,6) are pork and (11) is beef. In the center of the plate are a bunch of garnishes, including pickled pearl onions, shallots, gherkins, fig jam, and olives, and three mustards: A smooth dijon, a whole grain with crème fraîche, and a whole grain with apple cider.

Steve (the one on the left in the first picture) is from England, so he got to eat most of the stuff I wouldn’t touch (Chris is braver than I), including (11), which sounds pretty gross already (if you don’t know what it is, I do not suggest looking it up). I also shied away from (9), only because I don’t really like the texture of tongue. Everything else was very good though! Number (12) was probably my favorite (first time eating pheasant!), and (4) definitely wins the “decadent sounding food product” prize. I also discovered while in Germany that I really like mustard now. My favorite on this plate was the apple cider one. :v

Unfortunately I had to run out the door before we got to dessert (Chris and Steve only got port, though). But I will definitely be back to see what’s on that menu. =D Also, the wine list looked fantastic, even if none of us were in the mood.

Oh, brunch was tasty, too. (And much cheaper.) We went to Sugar Café where I had the “Tex Mex Scramble,” which I ordered because it involves fresh avocado. (Om nom nom.)

* Well, a bit further north from my people… but close enough. I do have cousins who raise pigs and turn them into chorizo and jamón serrano, though. Apprenticing to one of them is Escape From Grad School Plan #344.Lower

So here’s my problem.  When I make up recipes, I think things will be GREAT.  They are not always great.  I feel like I’ve got imagination, but terrible form.  The form will come with either practice or reincarnation after I light myself on hot, hot fire.   Or maybe, I just have to get Sfofie to teach me how to do things without dying.  Again. 

The challenge:

I was so disappointed with Guatemala that I wanted to make a nice, tropical-themed meal that wasn’t too hard to make. 

The plan:

Tropical food to me means blending flavors.  The safe blandness of chicken, with the tangy surprise of jerk rub.  Cayenne pepper with mango.  I wanted to make the Jabba’s Palace of food: A party in your mouth, bounty hunters okay.

- Coconut rice with capers.

- Ham and pineapple rounds, with toasted paprika.

- Grilled romaine  hearts, with pineapple flavor.

The fail: 

Cast iron grill pan has failed me.  Also, I have failed myself.  I also suspect that my current kitchen’s fan is not powerful enough;  I smoke up my apartment like a latchkey kid.  But I’m just trying to grill some damn lettuce. 

The most successful bit by far was the ham and pineapple rounds.  I found a pastry round just the size of pineapple slices, and cut a thick slice of ham into perfect little circles.  I cooked the ham, just a couple minutes over medium heat in a skillet, and threw the pineapple on the grill pan on medium. There was some olive oil involved, and the pineapple came out smoky and delicious.  I toasted the paprika in a dry pan on medium-low for about two minutes or so, and it came out tasting smoky and just right… and then I forgot to put it on the pineapple.

Bonus round: I marinated my pineapple for around an hour in spiced rum. Not sure if it made a difference in flavor, but my rum tasted DAMN fine. 

The part that should’ve worked in theory was the rice.  I just Japanese extra fancy rice, toasted it a bit in oil, and then dropped in a can of coconut milk and a can of water.  I forgot to cover it (fault 1), and I didn’t let it cook long enough because it was looking like the rice was ready to melt into some kind of sad mush (fault 2).  The taste was great–the coconut is light and happy, and the capers give it a sharp kick in the nads.  One caper per bite was usually enough to totally end my world with happiness.  For next time: cook rice like not a retard.  (PS: this rice really is good. I’m not a huge fan of coconut, but I gorged on this stuff when my mom made it in Belize. Try it! You won’t be 

The grilled romaine was a fail so epic, Xerxes would’ve shook his head in shame.  I’d be like, “Fuck you, Xerxes, you couldn’t take out 300 dudes at Thermopylae!” and he’d be like, “It’s lettuce, Jo.  You messed up grilling already-prepared food.  What the hell is wrong with you?”  Fault 1: So you brush a little oil on things you grill. “Cool,” I thought, “I’ll make something neat and emulsified, and have a nice flavored grill thing. And look, all this leftover pineapple juice…” Let me tell you something, kids. Don’t make an emulsion out of pineapple juice, mustard, and olive oil. It doesn’t fucking work. It doesn’t make the tangy, sweet, savory thing you want, and the texture is disastrous. Also, don’t cut your romaine hearts in half when you grill them. Tiny pieces of lettuce will fall into the cracks, stick, and ultimately smoke up your entire house. 

If I had another shot at this one, I would just lightly oil up the romaine, then make a separate vinaigrette, I’m thinking raspberries and white wine vinegar. The flavor of my weird stuff didn’t even come out. I ended up gorging on leftover pineapple slices and drowning my sorrows in liquor.

Business as usual.

1. FUCK YOU, GUATEMALA.  For the love of God, don’t go to Guatemala anticipating a beautiful meal that tastes delicious.  The local meats are no good, and cow doesn’t have ‘cuts’ so much as ‘parts that probably came off of a cow somewhere.’  The water is undrinkable, which means the salad is untrustworthy.  The Spanish word for “hummus” is apparently “homma,” which sounds so damn different from “hummus” that if you order “hummus,” your Spanish-speaking waitress will not understand a damn thing you say.   (This isn’t fair. My mom had a truly extraordinary shish kebob, which had onions and beef and eggplant, but the beef was nothing to write home about, and you have to work magic to make a shish kebob look beautiful enough to photograph.)

2. Fanta made with sucrose is the most delicious soda.

3. The national beer of Belize, Belikin, is truly delicious if you have spent all day baking in hot hot direct South American sunlight.  It is kept in the thickest damn bottles I have ever seen, so much so that you can’t tell if you’ve finished your beer or not.

4. It is incredibly hard to cook spaghetti properly on a boat.

5. If a crazy tanned man ever hands you homemade mango vinegar, accept.  I can guarantee you that it’s incredible, flavorful but still light, and emulsifies beautifully with a little mustard and olive oil for a simply perfect vinaigrette.

6. On the subject of mangos: DON’T TRUST CHILDREN.  You think you have to pay one quetzale for a mango.  In truth, you can get 10 mangos for 5 quetzales!  According to this handy chart, I had common mangos.  I could not shut up about mangos. Corellary to #1, you can go to Guatemala for the express purpose of eating mangos.

7. Allspice leaves smell just like allspice seeds, if not moreso.

8. Corellary to #6: If your boat’s bathroom decides to spontaneously break, then mangos are the worst food to have.  Seriously.  It’s like woo WOO, all aboard the express train to your worst goddamn nightmare.

9. Thanks to the Restaurant Villa del Chef in Flores, Guatemala (also home of the delicious shish kebob), I have discovered my new greatest hope for the Obama administration.  I want him to mend ties with Cuba and stop making Cuban goods illegal, so I can have a Cuba Libre.  It’s just a rum and coke with some lime, but godDAMN.  The Cuban rum I had was the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted, and I can’t wait until that shit is legal stateside.

And finally, the most delicious food I had during my Spring Break:

10. A fucking ham and cheese sandwich.  NOT KIDDING.  We went on a five-hour hike through Tikal, Guatemala, which is the site of a very famous Mayan ruin.  We had five minutes before our tour to eat, and half of the sandwich survived to be eaten after climbing 80,000 perilously stupid steps.  It had thick-sliced white bread which was just a little crusty, and had a normal piece of American cheese and a normal slice of ham.  But there was some spiced mayonnaise on it which I will endeavor to reproduce soon, which made the whole thing taste both fulling, aromatic and savory.  My mom saved hers all the way to the last temple complex, and we were all really, really jealous.

And now, since I didn’t take any food pictures, Mayan ruins! Wooooo!

This recipe makes 1 serving for a hungry lunchtime George, or 2-3 side servings.

• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1/2 an onion, thinly sliced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• HAM. I used about 2 slices of the unnaturally square-shaped pre-cooked pre-packaged ham you buy at the grocery store, but you can adjust (a) The amount of ham, depending on your daily ham needs, and (b) The quality of the ham you use. Pancetta (basically Italian bacon) would be ideal, but you would have to cook it all the way through (unless you live on the edge).
• salt and black pepper to taste
• 2 tsp brown sugar
• 1 pear, peeled, cored, quartered, and then thinly sliced (I used bosc, but I’m sure any pear will do.)
• white truffle oil, to taste (I used about 2 tsp I think. It’s optional, but tasty.)
• spinach (uh… about 3ish cups loosely packed I guess?)
• 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
• crumbled gorgonzola (as much as you like! Any sharp cheese will do; I know some people don’t like blue cheese. Rolleyes.)

Heat the olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat, and when it starts to shimmer, add the sliced onion. Toss the onion in the hot oil until it is thoroughly coated, and then add some salt and pepper. Add the garlic and stir for about 2 minutes or so until it smells awesome. Then throw in the ham and brown sugar, and stir that until everything is well-mixed. Depending on how lean your ham is, you may have to add some water to keep stuff from being burny and overly sticky. Turn the heat down to medium-low, and let the flavors mingle. Throw in the pear bits and stir it again until everything is well-mixed, add salt and pepper to taste, and (perhaps) half of the truffle oil. Turn off the heat completely. It should look something like this?

In a large salad bowl, toss together the spinach, balsamic vinegar, remaining truffle oil (here you should substitute olive oil if you don’t got truffle), and gorgonzola. Combine the lurid ham-pear orgy with the spinach, mixing it well, and let the now-completed salad cool before serving (this will allow the gorgonzola to get a bit melty and creamy on the pearz). Then serve! Preferably with a toasty piece of naan, courtesy Henry.