Carma

My carma seems to be at an all-time low.

I left a little earlier than usual for work today.  I noticed a screw stuck into Xiaoyu’s portside front tire.  That’s driver’s side to you cake-eating civilians.  Unless you’re from Japan, Hong Kong, or the UK, in which case it’s the other side. 

So I drove the 1.8 miles back home and switched Xiaoyu for Darth, cancelling out the being early to work.

The good news is that Costco fixed the tire for free.  Also, they balanced and rotated all four tires.  And they filled the tires with nitrogen.  All of this for no charge.

I had to go to San Francisco tonight to meet someone for a former business colleague of mine.  I was on the sketchy part of 6th in the heart of the Tenderloin.  Traffic was pretty thick and the sidewalks were full of this neighborhood’s typical characters, mostly druggies and street people.  A police car pulled out of a side street and got behind me with his lights flashing.  I pulled over thinking he wanted to get by.  Nope, he was pulling me over. 

I got a ticket because there was somebody in the crosswalk with me.  What?  I didn’t see anybody in the crosswalk with me.  I wasn’t talking on the phone or fiddling with the radio.  Maybe there was someone in the crosswalk with me.  How would I know?  I know for a fact there was nobody with 10 feet of my car.  I had cars beside me and in front of me.  It stinks because nothing can be proven.  I haven’t gotten a ticket in years.  I do full stops at stopsigns.  I use my turn signals.  I asked the cop for a break.  No cigar.  Bad carma.

I was so irritated and in a foul mood.  And I still had to meet this lady at a Starbucks.  I was meeting her for coffee so she could get some information from me about my job.  She is considering something similar.  Turns out she just moved here from Korea a month ago and so far was disappointed in the Korean restaurants at Japantown.  I asked her if she had eaten dinner and she hadn’t and neither had I so we went to Jang Soo BBQ way out there on the other end of Geary.

She seemed impressed by the authenticity of the restaurant.  I told her I didn’t even want to open the menu and she should do the ordering.  We ended up having such an enjoyable (and spicy) meal, I forgot I was supposed to be in a bad mood.

She liked Xiaoyu, by the way, the car that had given me a flat tire and a traffic ticket.  Also, we found easy parking near the restaurant.  This weekend I’ll give Xiaoyu an oilchange and I’m sure my carma will improve.

I like to say that eating ethnic foods can be an experience kind of like traveling.  A culinary mini-trip.  I don’t often think of it from a reverse perspective.  I’m happy I was able to show a lovely new San Franciscan a place she told me reminded her of the restaurants “back home.” 

I’ll take karma over carma any day. 

translation – Betelnut Pejiu Wu

我今天中午跟萍去了Betelnut 啤酒屋。

Wo jin tian zhong wu gen Ping qu le Betelnut Pejiu Wu.

我 Wo = I

今天 jintian = today

中午 zhongwu = noon

跟 gen = with

萍 Ping = Beijing girl who makes comments about Robert Cruce

去 qu = go

了 le = makes qu past tense

Betelnut Pejiu Wu = Asian contemporary restaurant in San Francisco.  Pejiu Wu can be translated to mean “bar.”

translation: Today I went at lunchtime to Betelnut with Ping.

Betelnut 啤酒屋

我今天中午跟萍去了Betelnut啤酒屋。

The oven-smoked sea bass on a bed of cucumbers is still tasty beyond belief. 

我的第一封信：http://clippermonsoon.wordpress.com/2006/04/11/betelnut-peiju-wu/

Betelnut Peiju Wu

There's a great little street in San Francisco named Union Street, and it's home to one of my favorite restaurants in the city.  Betelnut is fashioned after the roadside eateries and beer houses (peiju wu) throughout Asia.

Betelnut is red.  Outside big, bright Chinese characters in red light can be seen a block away.  The theme at the bar is red and on the walls are replicas of old Chinese beer posters.  The ceiling sports a row of leaf shaped fans that, in the summer, swing back forth leisurely.  The restaurant and bar have a really welcoming feel. 

If you're going there, make a reservation because it's usually crowded.  I was there one night when I was seated at a bar that borders the open kitchen, and that was fun experience because I like to watch the cooking.

Betelnut is especially fun with a big party because the small plate / big plate menu is conducive to lots of different dishes shared family style.  Ordering the Szechuan Green Beans is a must; it's one of Betelnut's signature dishes.  I also love the Oven Smoked Seabass.  Perfectly smoked and with the outside of the fish baked to a flavorful crust while the bass inside is incredibly delicate and moist.

Other dishes: Taipei Fried Rice, Cecilia's Minced Chicken Lettuce Cups, Chili Crusted Calamari, Korean Char-broiled Pork with Scallions, various dumplings.  The place is noisy and the service attentive.  In the past, the plates came out of the kitchen seemingly at random.  Tonight the waiter told us how the plates would be delivered and that was a nice improvement.

My first time here was for lunch, with a cute co-worker back in 1999 while we were supposed to be on client visits.  Some people I've taken here include Vange and Vinny, Lellie, Sarah and the Egans, Michele (my Hiroshima concert partner), Maria from Colorado, Chopper and Mrs. Chopper, Moneypenny, cousin Ricky, and Mom & Dad.  Am I forgetting anyone?

On the way out tonight, I asked the hostess if I could take a picture.  She went to ask Robert, the owner.  She came back apologizing because he wouldn't permit it.  A few seconds later, Robert came out and asked me what the picture was for.  I told him I like to review my favorite restaurants on this blog and wanted to include my own picture.  He smiled and said sure.  He gave me his card, saying to email him a link.  Thanks, Robert!  I can't wait to come back. 

The Hardest Working Man in America…

…is Mr. Tanihara.  Together with Mrs. Tanihara, they own and operate a tiny Japanese restaurant named Tani’s Kitchen in the Westlake District of Daly City.  This tiny establishment has three tables which can seat 7 customers.  There’s additional seating for 5 at the sushi bar.  And behind the sushi bar is Mr. Tanihara.

He usually has a t-shirt with some kind of logo.  I’ve seen him with J Crew and I’ve seen him with the logo from The Godfather.  The gas stove is cooking and there are usually 5 or 6 pots and pans with different things cooking at any given time.  Mr. Tanihara works non-stop.

Despite the limited number of patrons who can occupy the restaurant, Mr. Tani does a lot of take-out business.  There’s always a line outside during dinner hours, too.  The restaurant seems to have a lot of Japanese students from nearby San Francisco State.  Mr. Tani speaks very little English, and he relies on Mrs. Tani who takes the orders and serves the customers.

There’s little for ambience.  A tiny TV in the corner might be playing the news.  Decorations are minimal.

If I had a Japanese uncle and he was cooking dinner for me, this is what it would taste like.  The sushi is good, but what I really like is the hot food.  I discovered this place about 8 years ago when I was sick and in need of a big bowl of chicken udon.  I’ve yet to find a better chicken udon in the Bay Area.

Other tasty items: grilled steak with Tani’s special steak sauce for dipping, chicken katsu donburi, breaded prawns, and a Japanese macaroni salad that surprises me, because I’m not one who normally likes macaroni salad.

Sometimes it’s fun to be there late in the evening after business slows down and Mr. Tanihara can ease up a little.  My favorite time is when he opens a beer towards the end of the night, and he and Mrs. Tanihara start talking in Japanese and laughing.  I don’t know what they’re saying, but it seems Mr. Tanihara has a sense of humor that Mrs. Tanihara can appreciate.

You won’t find a more honest Japanese restaurant.

Rigatoni con Salciccia

You know what I miss about the East Coast?  Well, lots of things but high up on the list is the food.  Both San Francisco and NY have some great restaurants and the NY vs SF debate continues in our family.

Back in NJ, great Italian restaurants are everywhere and they all offer a penne ala vodka that’s hard to find in the Bay Area.  Though I have to go into the city to get there, Steps of Rome Cafe has become my favorite restaurant.  Of all time. 

It’s a loud, rambunctious, quirky, kind of place with an ever-revolving Italian staff of waiters and waitresses.  The walls are yellow and the trim is blue and here you can get a perfect cappuccino and the best tira misu in town.  If you have a date the waiters may flirt with her so you can’t be insecure about that.  The music is too loud (or I’m too old) and it’s usually Pino Daniele singing Italian pop tunes.  Good stuff.

When I first moved to the Bay Area I found this place and I frequented it for the food.  They do a lot of things well: chicken parmigiana, veal, and penne ala vodka.  Ask the kitchen to substitute prosciutto for the pancetta and it’s even better.  Back then the prices were a little cheaper and I had much better parking karma.  I estimate I was at Steps four times a month.

My favorite dish there is one of their simplest.  Rigatoni con salciccia.  Rigatoni with mild Italian sausage in a red sauce.  Nothing too complicated, right?  I don’t know what it is but it’s consistently and perfectly al dente.

Fun and funny things have happened there, too.  I’m sure nearly everyone who has been out here visiting me has been there, and if you haven’t, just ask next time.  I’m always looking for a reason.  Maybe they add addictive agents to the sauce.

Here’s a picture of a very similar restaurant named  TEPS OF RO E.