FiDi Lunch

Few people actually live in San Francisco’s Financial District; most, like me, just work there.

The whole neighborhood, if a place without true residents can truly be called a neighborhood, is totally focused on the work force. Most businesses are open only Monday through Friday. There are lots of banks and coffee shops, but few of the hardware stores and produce markets that are mainstays in most other areas of San Francisco.

A few restaurants stay open for dinner, relying on business travelers to fill tables, but lunch is the big meal downtown. Every block is peppered with lunch places that are packed at noon and closed by 3pm. There are many lunch options, but most are fairly crummy and almost anything will get old when eaten on a daily or weekly basis.

Only a handful of places downtown (Mixt Greens, Boxed Foods Company, and Sellers Market) use decent ingredients or even bother to change their menu seasonally, so I often end up walking down to the Ferry Building for better lunch options, like the new, super delicious Cane Rosso.

But as the lines at the new Thursday street food vendors at the Ferry Building show, there’s still a desire for new lunch options downtown. The work force is always hungry for something else and Boccolone, a cured meats purveyor in the Ferry Building, has one solution: a sandwich delivered to the Financial District on their ‘Salumi Cycle’.

That’s right: I can get a panini made with certified humane meat delivered just a few blocks from work on a bike (and I find out where the Salumi Cycle will be on Twitter). Only in San Francisco, right?

The Salumi Cycle conveniently tends to drop off sandwiches near downtown San Francisco’s many public spaces — providing both food and a place to eat to the needy FiDi masses.

In its 1985 ‘Downtown Plan’, San Francisco required that public space be included in any new commercial development so many downtown buildings now have a roof decks or a patios or courtyards available to all, but mostly populated (especially at lunch time) by the FiDi crowd.

Unfortunately, not all buildings make their public space known or easy to get to. (I’m talking to you Orchard Garden Hotel. I know you have a public terrace,that you rarely provide elevator access to, and yes, I’ve learned to take the one working elevator and take the stairs the rest of the way). SPUR, thankfully, provides a list and a map.

It’s a god-send to have a somewhere outside the office to eat or read or think. It’s depressing to eat at my desk and while my office has a kitchen, I avoid it. I’m not willing to interact with my coworkers on my lunch break.

If the weather’s nice and the Salumi Cycle is nearby, I like heading up to the public space at 343 Sansome (shown above). It’s a public terrace on the 15th floor, with half devoted to icky smokers, but the other half is all fellow lunchers.

There are views down Sansome street and between the buildings, you can catch sight of the Bay. Down below, the cars, buses and taxis and the people hurrying through the streets all look tiny. And work feels far away.

Getting Pickled

I want to learn how to can and preserve foods, to have a pantry of canned tomatoes and homemade jam.

But, for now, I cheat. I freeze tomato sauce rather than canning whole tomatoes, and instead of going through the hot work of boiling jars of pickles, I making refrigerator pickles.

I’d never heard of refrigerator pickles until I read a post on the blog Tea & Cookies that linked to this recipe for refrigerator dill pickles. It looked surprisingly easy and required only a few relatively easy to find ingredients.

The one ingredient I was never able to find was pickling salt. But someone at BiRite told me I could use kosher salt as long as I made sure the salt had dissolved before pouring it over the cukes and so far it’s worked out just fine.

I first made these pickles about a year ago and I thought my first batch was decent, but I wasn’t really a good judge. I don’t eat many pickles these days, but I happen to have a friend who is more likely to have a jar of pickles in her fridge than a quart of milk. She confirmed that the pickles were better than decent. I believe she even drank the brine (do I even need to mention she’s German?) and raved to our mutual friends about ‘my’ delicious pickles.

The vote of confidence from a serious pickle eater/German was all the encouragement I needed to start making pickles more regularly. They are one of the simplest and most rewarding things I’ve made. They take perhaps 20 minutes at most. The hard part is waiting for your brine to turn your cukes into snappy dill pickles. (I even decided to pickle some green beans recently).

I’m especially enjoying having a jar in the fridge this summer. On those rare warm summer days, a slice of pickle, straight from the fridge, is pretty refreshing.

Pickles also go well with another food I hadn’t realized that I missed: hot dogs. The Fatted Calf started bringing hot dogs to the market earlier this year. Of course, a Fatted Calf hot dog is made with recognizable ingredients, like grass-fed Marin Sun Farms beef. Thanks to the farmers market, we’ve been eating locally produced franks and beans lately. It turns out that a Fatted hot dog in an Acme bun, with a side of Rancho Gordo beans and a wedge of crisp pickle makes for a perfect summer meal.

All the People that Come and Go

It’s tourist season in SF. They’re especially thick downtown, hesitating at intersections to consult their SF street maps and guidebooks or stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to gape up at the Transamerica Pyramid.

On the rare mornings that I out of the house early enough to go to Blue Bottle before work, I see them wandering through the unusually quiet Ferry Building, waiting for the other shops to open and looking oddly well rested. (I have to assume its lunchtime where ever they’re from).

When I’m having what is for me a typical morning — dealing with inept commuters on BART, dreading going into work and cursing the inevitable long line at Blue Bottle — it helps to see people who aren’t just going through the motions of their usual daily routine. In the midst of my own regularly scheduled morning angst, it’s a good reminder that travelers don’t need to rush, they may not have anywhere in particular they need to be, and they may even be able to start their day without coffee.

Of course, it’s not easy to travel or to be without the things that you rely on in your day-to-day life (like, say, coffee), but I appreciate the reminder of what it feels like to be in a new place, to have a whole day to create on your own schedule, to be so far away from your home that not even the time makes sense.

And the tourists remind me I will be one of them soon enough. In a few weeks, Mr. WholeHog and I head back to Italy, back to the Cinque Terre again to eat anchovies and focaccia, to swim in the Mediterranean, and, most importantly, to attend a good friend’s wedding. And after the wedding, we’ll spend a week exploring more of Southern Italy and some of Sicily.

In my usual, obsessive pre-travel state, the SF tourists offer more than a reminder that my own vacation is near; they also offer a real world example of what makes good and bad traveling clothes. SF is a real test of one’s packing prowess: you have to be ready for both the 70 degree sunshine we had a week ago and for the foggy, windy maybe 62 degree days we have this week.

The tourists give me a sense of what blends in, or what stands out in a stylish way rather than an “I’M A NOT FROM HERE” way. In SF, nothing says non-native quicker than clothing that features the American flag, although the acid-washed, pink denim jacket and cropped pants ensemble I spotted today comes close.

Rave: Bourdain in SF

Saturday, March 21st, was a typical Saturday for Mr. WholeHog and I: we went to the Ferry Building Farmers Market and lined up at Primavera.

I’d vaguely noticed a camera man as we walked back to Primavera’s stand but I didn’t think much of it. It’s not that unusual to see TV cameras at the market, often following a local chef or personality around while they shop.

But the man at the front of the line for Primavera looked familiar to me, even from the back: he was tall, long-legged, and thin. He wore jeans and a leather blazer. I elbowed the Mr., “It’s BOURDAIN,” I whispered.

At least, I think I whispered. I’m one of those idiotic people that gets a little batty in the presence of celebrity. For all I know, I screamed, “IT’S BOURDAIN!”. And then I started grinning foolishly and openly staring in my typical, ridiculous celebrity-sighting way. (I’m also a terrible celebrity spotter. Walking on Irvington Place in New York City, Mr. WholeHog said to me, “Did you see who that was?”. I guessed: “Patti Smith?”. It turned out it was Ric Ocasek, from The Cars.)

Picture from The Travel Channel

Seeing Bourdain was something special, though. I wasn’t just seeing the author of Kitchen Confidential at my farmers market, I was seeing Bourdain at Primavera, one of my favorite stands at the market. I was seeing someone I admire as a writer, sure, but more so as an eater, appreciating some of my very favorite food.

Primavera clearly has plenty of admirers at the market. There are lines nearly every week for their food. We’ve seen local chefs and food bloggers in line from time to time.  But maybe because Primavera is only available at the Saturday market or perhaps because Primavera is based out of Sonoma, not SF,  it gets surprisingly little attention from local media. (The SF Chronicle  remains sadly focused on the entirely mediocre La Taqueria).

So it was gratifying to me that Bourdain was there with his camera crew for No Reservations, his show on the Travel Channel. It initially gave me some additional confidence in his show, too: if he found Primavera in SF that means his finds in other cities may be just as good. (Although watching the San Francisco episode of No Reservations this week, I wasn’t impressed with the other places he went in SF).

I have to say that I didn’t wholeheartedly approve of Bourdain’s order. He went with the tamales — which are arguably Primavera’s specialty. Their website, after all, is Primaveratamales.com. Primavera’s tamales are terrific and worth trying, especially for an initial visit.

But as someone who eats at Primavera nearly every week, I know that the tamales are always on the menu, while the weekly specials only come around a once a month or,even a few times a year. (I’m still waiting for them to bring back the enchiladas with poached eggs Mr. WholeHog ate one Saturday when I was out of town in 2007).

At Primavera, you order whatever is under the chilequiles on the menu and above the tamales. It may be fish tacos, tlycoyos, panuchos, carnitas tacos, tacos al pastor, squash blossom and ricotta quesadillas. On the Saturday Bourdain ate at Primavera, albondigas were on the menu. Albondigas are meatballs. Primavera serves them in a tomato sauce with Primavera’s perfect beans and tortillas. When Primavera has albondigas on the menu, it’s like hitting the jackpot.

So it was a clear mistake to order tamales, even delicious tamales, when you have the option of meatballs. But you know, I’ll let it pass this time. It’s clear Bourdain will be back. He loves San Francisco, as he wrote in his take on San Francisco’s food.

Gonna Spread My Word Standing On This Box

I was reminded of the food industry recently while reading New Yorker on my ride into work on BART. The New Yorker’s financial writer, James Surowiecki, described the consumer finance industry as “an industry which keeping customers confused often seems to be a business strategy”  — and it’s just as fitting a description of our food system.

There’s talk of a new consumer financial protection agency, but to my knowledge, there are no plans for an agency focused on consumer food protection — despite the seemingly endless recalls (yesterday’s recall: 800,000 pounds of ground beef). At least the House passed a pretty decent new food safety bill last week.

So given that there are clearly problems in our food system, how do we, as eaters, make better choices? Going back to the New Yorker quote, how do we become more educated about the food we buy?

Local Options

You probably have some resources in your area, like a good local market. In my experience, a good market can make it easy to make better food choices. Many local markets have very knowledgeable staff, and are more directly connected to their suppliers. (When was the last time you saw an actual butcher at Safeway, or someone who could tell you if the beef they carry was grass fed or even hormone-free?).

Two of my favorite SF grocers, BiRite and Rainbow, both post a list of the eggs they carry and how the eggs are produced. It makes it easy to see what farms are de-beaking the chickens, for example, and what (few) farms are raising chickens on pasture.

The Eatwell Guide may be able to direct you to a local market.

Of course, the shortest supply chain is at the farmer’s market. Often, you can ask the farmer herself how the food she’s selling was grown and how the animals were raised. (And it’s worth asking about food production, even at farmers markets.  At our local market, there are both stands that sell pasture-raised eggs and stands that sell essentially industrially produced eggs.)

Online Resources

The web can also help us decode food labels and better understand where our food comes from.

Dairy – The Cornucopia Institute has this useful report card for organic dairies. You can click on each dairy to learn more about their practices. You’ll find out if the cows are on pasture, for example, or if the cows are given hormones or antibiotics.

Food & Water Watch also has a handy guide to finding rBST-free dairy products. Just click on your state.

Eggs – Egg marketing can be quite deceptive, so it helps to know what terms like ‘cage free’ and ‘organic’ really mean (the short answer: not much). The Humane Society provides a clear guide to egg carton labels.

One important word that isn’t on the Humane Society list is pasture. So far pasture  is one word that means what it says: the chickens don’t just have “access” to the outside, they are outside, on the land, scratching and pecking and doing all the things chickens do.

In the Bay Area, farms that produce pasture eggs include Soul Food, Clark Summit, Marin Sun Farms, and TLC. (TLC is even available at Whole Foods).

Meat – The meat department is another landmine of terms that may not mean what you think. “Natural” sounds good, but it only  means that the meat has been minimally processed, and as this brief article by Bill and Nicholette Niman clarifies, it still may include hormones and antibiotics.

Food & Water Watch explains organic meat requirements and attempts to clear up some more misleading labels.  Even the USDA publishes a list of labels, but to get to common terms like ‘natural’, you first have to get past definitions for thing like “mechanically separated meat” (which  is, apparently “a paste-like and batter-like meat product”. Enough to make one a vegetarian).

My post on finding pasture-raised meat can be found here.

On my reading list: Nicholette’s book, Righteous Porkchop — so wish I’d thought of that title! — includes a lot of information on meat labeling.

Police Blotters – July 2009

There were some truly bizarre calls to the police in July. Does hot summer weather make people a little crazy?

• 10:36 a.m.— A caller said someone threw smoke bombs on his vehicle and melted the carpet.
• 8:24 p.m. — A caller reported an odd smell, possibly drugs “cooking.” It was a dead deer.
• 9:23 p.m. — A child called 911 and asked for a hamburger.
• 11:39 a.m. — A caller reported a woman stuck in a window. It was found to be the housekeeper, who was locked out of the house and who was attempting to get in.
• 10:31 a.m. — A woman reported a homeless camp. Police found children had set up a fort.
• 6:58 p.m. — A woman reported a man screaming in front of her residence.She said he had defecated in the yard, then put it in a plastic bag and tossed it in the trash.
• 6:59 p.m. – A caller from a public park called to report that the women’s bathroom was out of toilet paper and towels.
• 7:21 p.m. – A woman reported her father who works for the military had bugged her residence and put “gross anatomy taps” inside her. The caller said she wanted assistance getting rid of the camera in her eyeball and taps inside her body.
• 12:50 p.m. —A woman reported a rogue tortoise in her yard.
• 10:23 a.m. — A caller reported a swarm of bees.
• 8:41 p.m. — A woman reported a woman spit on her head.
• 6:19 p.m. — A caller from a business reported a woman going behind the counter, creating a disturbance. The woman was there to check the freezers.
• 9:26 a.m. — A caller reported a cat in a tree. The caller was counseled regarding misuse of 911.
• 3:16 p.m. — A caller reported a man in a yellow truck had been in the area for a few days. He gets out of his truck and talks to the ground. He also had cut down a tree.
• 10:39 p.m. — A man reported a bald man was walking through his yard.
• 8:55 a.m. — A man reported someone blew up his garbage can at 2 a.m.
• 12:27 p.m. — A caller reported that his tenant has put “alligator clips” on his phone line.
• 8:25 p.m. – A caller said a neighbor was outside and naked all day, screaming at and beating his child. Deputies discovered the claim to be unfounded.
• 9:42 a.m. — A caller reported the theft of a Pebble Beach 2010 U.S. Open baseball cap from an unlocked garage several days ago.
• 1:43 p.m. — A 911 call was made. Breathing was heard but no one would respond. It was found to possibly have been puppies that dialed the phone.
• 6:08 p.m. —A woman reported her tenant was using her barbecue against her wishes.