Eat + Drink
I love good bars, no matter what they do. After some readings at Litquake the other night, I went to the Lone Palm, where I hadn’t been in years.
I drank Boont Amber ale and watched the two hardworking bartendresses handle the crowd. Nothing particular about the drinks jumped out at me (except that it was cool to get Boont on tap), but I loved the energy and the conviviality of a great neighborhood bar. And that’s what’s really important.
Remember how rainy Friday night was? All I wanted to do was curl up with a cup of hot cocoa (like this one from Bittersweet) and have a Netflix night, but the Friends and Family opening party for Bin 38 was calling my name. I’m sure you’re thinking: As if SF needs another wine bar. But my motto is: The more, the merrier! Indeed, my spot in one of the nooks catching up with some friends over a Petit Syrah and Prosecco turned out to be the perfect escape from the bleak weather.
Baby Shower for a Sommelier
Normally I try to avoid baby showers. They tend to be rather staid affairs with tea, crumpets, and lots of baby clothes. Actually, they’re not that hard to avoid, since I never get invited. But recently I did, and it was one I wasn’t going to miss: the baby shower for Paul Roberts, wine director for all of Thomas Keller’s restaurants, including the French Laundry and Per Se.
Last week I had a tasting and dinner at Frisson with Charles Braastad of the esteemed Cognac House Delamain. Braastad is half Norwegian, though he’s lived his whole life in France, and his family still owns Delamain. A tall, thin and handsome man, he seems a bit stiff and formal at first, but quickly reveals his lively sense of humor and native charm.
Anyway, Delamain is one of the smaller houses in Cognac to achieve such worldwide acclaim. Their style is fine, elegant and balanced. The various bottlings wow you with finesse and complexity—not with power, fruit and oaky richness.
By root on October 22, 2007 8:26 AM
It's that time of year...
Photo courtesy of Stan Grossfeld/Boston Globe
I’m quite certain that I’m the only person on our editorial staff who cares about baseball. My boss thinks I’m joking when I say I might have to move around my schedule in order to catch some of the upcoming Red Sox v. Rockies World Series. I know, I know, we’ve got a magazine to put out—but hello! Red Sox in the Series?! Where’s the nearest big screen?
By root on October 17, 2007 3:13 PM
As we close in on the end of the week, I’ve found a new way to waste time. You can thank me later. A friend just sent me a link to Fridgewatcher.com, a website that features nothing but pictures of refrigerators from around the world and their contents. You could submit a photo of your own fridge; there’s even a spot to leave a brief manifesto on the contents. I only wish the people submitting images were a bit better at IDing their items—the American fridges are easy, of course (though I must admit I had forgotten about the existence of Juicy Juice), but I’m stumped when it comes to the fridges of Sweden, Kenya, Amsterdam. What are all those mysterious condiments?
I took this shot outside of Golden Boy Pizza in North Beach. The photo is not the greatest—as I sort of just snapped it as I was walking by—but I like its Hopper-esque feel. And I like its evocation of counter dining—one of my favorite ways to eat. There’s nothing like a beer and a slice at a crowded counter late at night.
Golden Boy Pizza
542 Green Ave.