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Eat + Drink

When Barflies Get Together

In last week’s post, Birth of a Great Lunch, I showed you what happens when sommeliers get together to celebrate—in this case a baby shower for imminent father Paul Roberts. Old, fine wines are uncorked, and civilized discussion occurs over the dinner table.


More Than Just a Date Spot

If you ask me, lots of restaurants these days seem indistinguishable from each other. Interiors boasting chocolate hues, exposed brick walls, dark wood floors, marble-topped bars, vaulted ceilings and Edison lamps, with menus highlighting the ubiquitous small plates trend (that I thought was ending, but was wrong). You know what I’m talking about. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but sometimes a girl craves something more unique.

Game On


Aw, shucks.

My parents tell a legendary story (which we kids have all heard, by now, a half-dozen times) about going to a game supper one fall night in Vermont. There, curiosity piqued, they tried squirrel, bear, moose and deer, raccoon and grouse. They enjoyed everything, left the dinner full and happy, and then awoke in the middle of the night, stomachs rolling, sick. Was it the bear?

Make Food Not War

While on Lower Haight last night I stumbled upon a new restaurant called Baghdad Nights (682 Haight St., 415-861-6111) with elaborate, colorful signage and a flyer advertising belly dancing in the window. Turns out it’s a new (and as far as I can tell, SF’s only) Iraqi restaurant, staffed by Iraqi-Americans—each last one of them super-friendly and attentive.

Starry Eyed



Sara checking out the guide, fresh off the press.

Any Given Sunday

I was born a fan of the Seattle Seahawks and there’s nothing I can do about it. We have a love-hate relationship—I hate to get too excited about them, because they always let me down, and they love to let me down.

I don’t often get to see the ‘hawks on TV, as you need a dish or some expensive TV package to get out-of-town games. But this year, I’ve got a solution . . . going to watch football at Elixir in the Mission.


(Taken with my phone.)

Finally Legal



Absinthe can now be legally sold in this country, as long as it stays inside some rules, which is how we now have our first legal brand in this country: Lucid. It’s decent stuff—not the best I've had, which happens to be in a few bottles that I’ve smuggled back from France over the years—but we’ll soon have more brands on the market.

Congrats to Jon and Jill



Outside of Absinthe last Wednesday, I happened to run into Bourbon and Branch’s great bartender Jon Santer in a tux.

“What’s going on?” I asked him, shaking his hand. Just then I noticed the beautiful and finely dressed woman standing next to him.

“I just got married,” he told me.

“Today?” I gasped, incredulously.

What Sommeliers Drink at Home



Every so often, I like to write about what my wife—the wine director at Quince—drinks because it embarrasses her. Everyone thinks that because she works in the world of fine wine she must just sit around at home drinking fine white Burgundy, Bordeaux and cult Napa wines. And sometimes she does.

Other times, however, she goes lowbrow, as I captured in this picture. If you look closely at this photo, you’ll see that she’s holding a particular, blue-collar beer made in Milwaukee.

Cris

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