Saison

 Thinking back, it all seems so surreal. Much like waking up after a vivid dream only to be left with wispy images no matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut. Saison did this.

 This event happened exactly 9 days ago. I had ample time to blog and recount my experience at Saison. But, frankly, I couldn't even muster a few phrases that would aptly depict the happenings and emotions of the night. What entails hereafter is a blur of color, taste, and textures that takes too much energy to recall.

But it went something like this....

Yet another obscure entrance -easily mistaken for an alley- leads the way, the only visage of Saison being a brightly lit "S" that initially seems mismatched against the provincial shrub and perennials.

A doll size dining area sits in the courtyard facing the open kitchen.  Only a moment goes by before the server beckons for us to sit and two flutes of amber bubbly magically appear!

.... a foliage with rabbit, foi gras and textures of crunchy grit- the essence of forest in each bite.

An assortment of toasted greens it seems. However, as the server pours a thimble size bonito broth into the plate, the once brittle leaves near the bottom of the bowl transforms into a soup. A soup with a myriad of textures dancing on the tongue.

 A single Santa Barbara prawn dusted with shrimp roe salt partners with one filament of sea urchin. Simple ingredients without razzle dazzle, allowing our amped up taste buds to settle down and pick up the clean notes of sweet and briny.

 

Squid done risotto style enveloped by its ink, Nuvola di pecora; Italian cheese tucked in a brioche ball sitting underneath a wild honeycomb,

and Meyer Lemon custard. I hate all things tart. I should hate the Meyer Lemon. Yet this is a slap in the face. It is almost as if Chef Joshua Skeenes is mocking me, you think you know..but do you?
Basically, it's effin' good. I can try to describe how good. But like squinting through fog:

 hazy.


Ta-Da~ last but not least, we have your Grade-A slab of meat- our star Chef.
Saison
2124 Folsom Street

San Francisco, CA 94110
(415) 828-7990

Honolulu Finds

Honolulu, the Disneyland of Hawaiian islands, is chock-full of generic sushi bars and pseudo-Hawaiian food joints. Thus, I'm determined to create a list of restaurants that are authentic, or at least aren't deemed "tourist traps". Halfway through our trip and I'm completely satisfied with our choices. Cream Pot, a mom-and-pop brunch shop, unlike other breakfast bars, has a distinctly Japanese flair. The Maguro Benedict, instead of brioche, is done with  slices of fresh tuna, atop a grilled rice patty drizzled with a light miso sauce.

 



Maguro Benedict

 Located in a shabby parking lot is Ono Seafood, poke specialist. Poke is a Hawaiian staple of cubed raw fish, and much like seafood salad is eaten cold. This is the ultimate utility lunch here in Honolulu. With no tables, most locals carry out or demolish it within seconds in the car. Having had my fair share of poke or its cousin, the tartare - each version played out and tweaked to a point where distinction of the two has become ambiguous-  I can claim as long as it's fresh and the seasoning is right, you can't go wrong. And this is a perfect example. Although, sitting beside a seasick dive buddy while grazing on raw fish doesn't exactly enhance the experience. Remnants of his meal has become Nemo &  Co's feast. Ya brah.



Combo Poke - Spicy mayo, Original

  I'm having mixed feelings of Giovanni's Shrimp Truck. Yes, the grilled scampi drowning in sauteed garlic and olive oil is disturbingly good. But did it justify waiting 30 minutes under the scalding tropic sun? Is it annoying watching people fight over markers to graffiti the truck? Is it odd to find tour buses making pit stops here? You be the judge.



Alan Wongs, you have your quintessential 5 star regional Hawaiian cuisine, uber-fresh ingredients and waitstaff that caters impeccably. What more can I say?

Frankly, I never expected to enjoy my meals here in Hawaii. However, Honolulu has proved to be a city of flavors beyond just poi and generic luau food. The generations of mingling East, West, and Polynesian diets have added character and complexity to the "Hawaiian" staple. Not to mention the bevy of spam products, from the loco moco, to the spam flavored mac nuts, to the ever so delicious musubis. Who wouldn't love it?

Bar Tartine - a new face

Bar Tartine has gone for a complete makeover, and by that, I don't mean aesthetically. It's the food I'm talking about. No longer can you find paninis and the ubiquitous bone marrow dish. Instead are the barely enunciable gulyas, halasles, and kapusnicas. In case you're wondering, I'm speaking Magyar, or the Hungarian language. The new chef, Nick Balla, has applied his Hungarian roots in the once American fare of Bar Tartine.


          Meggyleves - chilled Hungarian soup of sour cherries and sour cream

The frequent dousing of sour cream vaguely reminded me of my short stint in Budapest. Although, abashedly, I only knew to order goulash, the common place soup of stewed beef and vegetables often drizzled with sour cream. The meggyleves, albeit a ghastly pink color - much like the results of one too many cranberry and vodka - is actually quite refreshing and savory.

Langos - fried potato bread with onion garlic and sour cream

                       Bottarga, grilled bread, butter, radish

                                                  

                                                       toasted rabbit livers, arugula, dill sauce

An audacious move on the part of Bar Tartine to terminate a "safe" menu that, although isn't as lauded as its sister, Tartine Bakery, is still considered an innocuous bet for all-American cuisine. It seems the reaction is a positive one as I tapped in on the next table, "This is way better than before." I agree. The flavors are more dramatic, a colorful fusion of Hungarian with mild Japanese undertones, as expected from Nick Balla who ran an izakaya previous to this stretch. The langos is a respite from the conventional flatbread or pizza. Much like a Hungarian pizza, but more rich, flaky, and simpler in flavors that allows the bread to speak for itself. Do not overlook the Bottarga (salted mullet roe). Bottarga is another dish that isn't seen enough nowadays. Its delicate briny flavors sing harmoniously with the bitter, crisp of the radish. The meal was undoubtedly a memorable one, with each dish justifying a few commentaries after depletion, in spite of the flacid turo cheesecake - nothing Hungarian about that.

Bar Tartine

561 Valencia Street

San Francisco, CA 94110-1114

(415) 487-1600