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I Heart NY

Just got back from visiting my brother, Travis, in New York. He lives in the East Village and so I stick with the West Village, Soho, Nolita, Lower East Side circuit, rarely even getting on a train. There’s really too much to love in that city, but I'm always glad to be back home.

Day #1: Met friends at Kuma Inn for dinner. A little upstairs place in the Lower East Side. Asiany, tapasy, dark and nooky. Overall the food was ok, but the Chinese sausage with sticky rice was great. Very LES BYOB, a nice change from SF WBTG (wine by the glass).



Making candy at Papabubble.

How Sweet It Is



It’d been three years since I last had brunch at Slow Club (and wrote about it for SF Station), which makes me feel old because I remember that meal like it was yesterday. So I was happy to go back yesterday and be reassured that—even with a chef change and a few years in between—the food remains as good as ever.

Yoshi’s, The Countdown



With an opening date firmly set for November 28, the folks over at the soon-to-open Yoshi’s in the Western Addition might be sweating bullets (the main staircase remains suspended and doorways are just going up—you get the picture). At 29,000 square feet, the space is ginormous and will accommodate just about every dining permutation you can dream up—bar, bar/lounge, mezzanine, dining room, private dining … you name it. Between the dining room, lounges and bars, there are more than 400 seats, and the jazz club seats about 400, too. Massive!

Eco-Shopping and Sipping


Irian Jaya

My friend Kristen is an avid fashionista (and blogger) who’s also very eco-conscious, so when I found out that Arboretum, a relatively new eco-fashion boutique in Healdsburg, was having a fundraiser and fall fashion fete last Saturday, she was the first person I IM’ed.

Open Tables?


Fresh shelling beans and pork soffritto at SPQR

A few weeks ago, in No Reservations, Jessica blogged about the latest no-reservations-taking policy that’s sweeping the city. Being a type-A sort, I’ve racked up a mighty big share of points on Opentable (even if I’ve never redeemed any of them)—so, yes, I’m all for reservations. How else can you squeeze a zillion things into a day if you have to wait two hours just to sit down to dinner?

Trick or Tipsy



SF’s first annual WhiskyFest was a few weeks ago (you can read all about it in Jordan’s recap, WhiskyFest Report), and while I missed the event, I made up for it on Halloween. I had two stops that night—the latter one involving a costume—so I donned my magenta wig, painted on some makeup and ran to event number one—a whisky-pairing dinner at Absinthe for Suntory Yamazaki.

Health, Meet Pleasure

A few years back in Philadelphia, I remember reviewing a raw food restaurant that nearly made me gag. By the end of the meal, the cold slivers of carrots, cucumber, sprouty things and all manner of mushroom, combined differently (but tasting the same) in nearly every dish, had created a watery, almost grassy feeling in my gut that was the exact opposite of satisfaction or fullness.


Cafe Gratitude's chile relleno with red rice.

A Two-Million-Dollar Frog



This past weekend, I ventured from our 49-square miles to Freestone for a spa day. My friend and I had this getaway in the works for a long time. The spa (Osmosis) is the only one in the country that offers cedar-enzyme baths, and I’m a sucker for the out-of-the-ordinary. After 20 minutes of sitting in 130-degree fermenting wood, we each got a 75-minute massage in little pagodas situated near a serene meditation garden. Needless to say, we worked up an appetite (even after sharing a spectacular sticky bun from Wild Flour Bread beforehand).

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?
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