During trips to the grocery store, I like to stop in at the cheap Asian food troughs on Clement Street. The prices are rock bottom, but the flavors are high. This time, I noticed an absolutely stunning piece of pork with crispy skin hanging from a chain. It was also under a bright heat lamp, which made for a perfect photo op. As I whipped out my camera and took a few snaps I overheard some of the Chinese ladies talking suspiciously about me. They asked me in Cantonese about my camera. Luckily, I don’t speak Cantonese (I speak Mandarin), and just played dumb and said, “huh?” They didn’t pursue asking me anything further.

The only thing I could think of that would have roused their attention to my snaps is maybe they think I’m an agent from the health department. Other than that, I’m not sure why they wouldn’t be happy to get more publicity and admiration of their foods. Perhaps they’re just suspicious of anyone taking more notice of their joint other than downing some grub.

I haven’t got much to say about the dim sum at Hong Kong Flower Lounge, except that we got good seats by the windows so I could get these great shots. In fact, I think I was too distracted photographing to pay too much attention to the food. The dim sum was on par, but nothing over the top. Still, it’s one of the best in the bay area.

1671 El Camino Real
Millbrae, CA
650-588-9972

The line was unfathomably long at House of Nanking. However, we were lucky enough to be the only 2-top, and the lady let us in the side door, where we were whisked to our seats. The place itself is a must-see fixture of San Francisco goodness–crowded seating, simple service, and great traditional Nanking style food.

The waitress came by and briskly asked whether we wanted pork, beef, or fish. Most patrons simply let the hosts choose the meal for them. There’s a certain level of trust that goes on. I’ve heard stories that for large parties, the waiter just comes by and says, “We’ll take care of you.” The technique seems to be working, since hundreds of people stream in on a daily basis. By now, the line is mammoth and still growing.

First, we ordered some green tea. It was served in a cup with a fitted filter on top, filled to the brim with various exotic flowers and tea leaves which gave the tea a rich and sweet flavor.

Next came the sesame chicken with sweet potatoes. The potatoes were a nice complement, and, I have to admit, I’ve never had many potatoes at a Chinese restaurant. The chicken tasted nice and fresh.

Our vegetable dish arrived next: pea sprouts stir fried with fried garlic, pork, and dried shrimps (I think). It was very forward in terms of flavor, and is a vegetable dish I will not soon forget.

Even though most will endure a long wait, the patrons look incredibly happy at House of Nanking. The hosts take good care of you, and the food is inexpensive and tasty. It’s definitely a San Francisco favorite.

House of Nanking
919 Kearny Street @ Jackson St.
San Francisco, CA
415-421-1429

As I walked into Andalu, I found myself immersed yet again in another trendy tapas joint. Our party was over fifteen people, and it took about 30 minutes for the staff to finally clear out a table for us.

The atmosphere is lively–cloyingly pushing everyone to celebrate whatever there is to celebrate. The menu consists of safe choices, anchored in Italian and French traditions. We each ordered two items, so variety was the spice of the night.

First, there was the fondue made from Cambazola cheese (a blue cheese), accompanied with Fuji apples and thin crunchy bread. I was a bit wary of Cambazola with apples, but the combination was actually quite nice. As always, everyone yearned for more bread or apples, since restaurants never give enough dipping artifacts to comfortably finish off the fondue.

Next came to the crab cake with Mache salad. The crab cake was good, but nothing special. I found it to be a bit heavy on the cream (or mayo, or whatever they used for creaminess).

After that was the grilled eggplant stuffed with ricotta, spinach, and pine nuts, served over Caponata (an Italian eggplant relish). I was disappointed with this one, probably because I had a lot of hope for it being good. The grilled eggplant was flavorless, not even imparting a gram of eggplant goodness on my taste buds. The ricotta and Caponata were satisfactory. However, this didn’t make up for the grilled eggplant, which should be the star of this dish.

Next, we dove into some of the heavier dishes. The grilled lamb was quite juicy, tender, and flavorful.

After that came the duck confit, which was very flavorful. However, this is the first time I’ve had duck confit, so I’m not sure how to judge it. Duck confit is duck that has been preserved in fat and salt for a period of time. The only cooking that is done is on a very low heat for extended periods of time. Complex flavors should develop as a result. It was, however, quite salty, which probably is to be expected.

Finally, we come to the dish everyone raves about: the Coca-Cola braised short-ribs. The ribs looked fantastic and incredibly tender. Perfect ribs should be tender, but never mushy. The meat should easily come off the bone, but still have some snap to it. Andalu’s ribs were inconsistent. I found some of the pieces to be entirely too tender and mushy, while others were a bit on the dry side. The marinade, however, was very flavorful and rich, just shy of being cloyingly sweet. There was no need for the sauce that came on the side, unless you’re hard of tasting. The beans added a nice temperature contrast with an interesting herby taste that I couldn’t pinpoint.

In short, Andalu’s was a good experience, but probably equivalent to many of the tapas places in the city. The food is familiar and easy to swallow, and the atmosphere is cheerful. On busy nights parking is almost impossible–use the valet.

3198 16th St. @ Guerrero
San Francisco, CA
415-621-2211

The festive and colorful flags hanging from the ceiling were the first things I noticed about the place. Next, my eyes wandered to the wall where there must have been over a dozen awards for best burrito in the SF bay area. I was duly impressed, and proceeded to order my favorite burrito: the al pastor.

Service is fast and friendly, and the prices are cheap–much cheaper than taquerias in the south bay. The quantities are also huge. I ended up ordering a burrito mojado (wet burrito), which was simply succulent. They drown the thing with guacamole, cheese, and sour cream. The filling also contains a generous portion of the same thing, along with meat.

Another highlight was their guacamole/tomatillo sauce that is served with tortilla chips. I’m not sure exactly what’s in it, but it’s very spicy. Usually I crave for more spice in salsas, but this was just right.

Taqueria Cancun
2288 Mission St
San Francisco, CA
415-252-9560

Pho is not only a bowl of noodles with broth, it’s an experience. The slurping. The steamed glasses. The slathering of pungent sauces. These elements are a must when eating at your local noodle shop. Unfortunately, Pho Hoa fails to deliver this satisfying gastronomic experience.

Pho Hoa is located in the Tenderloin district of SF. I’m usually wary of going to the Tenderloin, unless the trip is necessary, as in the case of searching for the perfect bowl of pho. Legend has it that the district is called the Tenderloin because police officers used to receive an extra hazard pay when patrolling the area, and thus, were able to eat nice steak dinners every night. Seriously though, don’t wander into this part of town late at night.

Pho Hoa looks just like any other nondescript pho shop. The service is fast and the menu is no-frills. You know what you’re getting when walking into this place. I ordered my usual–pho with thinly sliced rare beef. One of hallmarks of a good pho shop is consistency, able to deliver steaming, tasty, and utterly fulfilling bowls of heaven any time you visit.

However, when my bowl came out it was not steaming–a bad sign. I took a few mouthfuls, and lo and behold, my glasses were not fogging up–a total blasphemy! Also, my beef didn’t cook all the way through in the stagnant lukewarm broth. At this point, Pho Hoa has hit rock bottom. It’s really hard to recover a pho when it’s lukewarm, no matter how good the noodles and beef are.

On the plus side, they gave a good amount of beef and noodles, which I couldn’t enjoy fully due to the broth catastrophe.

I will not be returning soon to Pho Hoa.

Pho Hoa
431 Jones St. (between Ellis and O’Farrell)
(415) 673-3163

There are just some restaurants you wished did better. Performed better. Tasted better. And it’s not in a complaining way–maybe you got a good tip about the place, or you heard through the grapevine that the place was really authentic. But then, you show up only to smell the obvious stench of a failing business. This was what happened at Bamboo Village.

I read various reviews of this Indonesian eatery saying that it’s really authentic and good food. These were from actual local Indonesian people, so who was I to question? We walked into Bamboo Village on what should have been a busy Saturday night. The place was dead–there was probably only one other couple eating. This is a bad sign.

Service was mediocre–we weren’t even offered water after receiving our menu. The waiter seemed to make himself sparse. This is ridiculous, since there were only two occupied tables.

The entire restaurant was covered in bamboo. I am not kidding you when I say that the whole restaurant–the walls, the trim, the ceilings, the decorations. It was apparent that someone put in a lot of thought about the decor. Maybe a little too much thought.

I decided to order rendang, a traditional Indonesian and Malaysian dish that consists of beef boiled slowly in a thick coconut curry sauce. The beef is supposed to be fork tender, like stew beef. Bamboo Village’s rendition was as tough as rubber. I had to request a knife, and even then, the whole table shook with the amount of force necessary to cut it. In short, the flavors were nice, giving a wallop of coconut, curry, and lemongrass tones. But the texture was horrible.

Next up was the fried fish in sweet and sour chili sauce. The fish was cooked in a curious way. Instead of butterflying it whole, they seemed to have butterflied it on both sides. I’ve never seen this done before. The fish itself wasn’t too flavorful, and neither was the sauce. I expected a lot more acid and heat in the sauce. The flavors simply went thud as it hit my tongue. One of the only redeeming sauces was the hot sauce that we had specifically requested. This is the kind of hot sauce that doesn’t joke around. The heat hits you, and hits you hard in the mouth like a suckerpunch, reminding me of the taste of raw habeneros.

The last dish was the Indonesian fried rice. It was flavorful, and had fish sauce in it, but nothing to write home about (or blog about).

In the end, we were utterly unsatisfied. A place like Bamboo Village really has the potential to lure in customers looking for some exotic Indonesian cuisine. They failed on fundamental levels of service and quality.

I decided it was time to venture to Little Saigon in the Tenderloin for a good old fashioned bowl of pho. I consider myself to have pretty good luck with pho. Most of what I’ve had before were on par, and I only had one bad incident. But the problem is, I’ve never really been blown away by pho before. I had heard good things about a place called Turtle Tower, and was anxious to give a review.

We arrived at Turtle Tower just in time for the lunch rush of local patrons seeking their pho fixing. I ordered my usual: a large bowl with rare beef (they didn’t have meatballs, which was disappointing).

Clean. This is only the word that comes to mind when eating Turtle Tower’s pho. I was simply amazed by the clarity of the broth when the steaming bowl arrived–you could probably read the date off of a dime at the bottom of a gallon of it. In other words, clear as consomme. This is typical of the northern Vietnamese pho, which is said to be the original and more minimalist than the richer southern Vietnamese tradition. I liked the clean taste, but I can also appreciate a more flavorful and complex broth.

The condiments were also sparse. If you’re used to Hoison sauce and plenty of green basil leaves with your pho, you’ll be disappointed. This is a no fuss operation–the only condiments were limes, sriricha, fish sauce and vinegar. I usually mix Hoison with sriricha, which I then use to dab the noodles and beef. But this time, I mixed some sriricha, vinegar, and fish sauce for a tasty combination. Although, it really wouldn’t kill them to have a bottle or two Hoison around.

The noodles were homemade and excellent. I’ve never had homemade noodles in pho, so this was quite a treat. They weren’t clumpy at all, and were tender and fresh tasting. The beef, however, wasn’t what I expected. Usually, rare beef means thin slices of sirloin, but this seemed to some sort of mashed up chunky sirloin. But the quality of the other ingredients did a good job in offsetting the beef. Perhaps this style is traditional? Does anyone have any idea?

If you’re in the mood for a nice clean bowl of pho, try Turtle Tower. As usual, the servings are huge, fast, and steaming. However, if you like a darker and more pungent broth, or, if you’re a condiment nut, you probably won’t be impressed. Their chicken pho also looked really nice, and seemed to be popular with the other patrons.

Turtle Tower Restaurant
631 Larkin Street
San Francisco, CA 94109
(415) 409-3333

I’ll admit, when it comes to Chicago style deep dish pizza, I’m a novice. I’ve probably only had it about a dozen times in my life, and most were mediocre. A deep dish pizza differs from the usual New York slice in, well, the deepness of it. The sides of the crust rise high and the toppings are layered on in an inverted fashion: toppings like sausage and pepperoni first, then cheese, then finally the sauce. The crust is usually made with vegetable oil, butter, and olive oil, giving a distinctive texture and taste. Although I have heard about this, I don’t think I’ve ever had a truly traditional deep dish pizza.

Last night, I had a craving for some deep dish action, and went to Little Star Pizza. I got the traditional (sausage, peppers, and onions) large deep dish for take out. The atmosphere inside the restaurant was very hip, dark, cool, and potentially romantic at the same time. It’ll definitely be worth checking out as a place to hang out–but for now, I just want to get to the ‘za.

The weight of the pizza box surprised me, it felt like five pounds. In anticipation, I peered in and was blown away by the appearance: rich red tomato sauce piled high with the sides rising up to the moon. I knew even before the first bite that this was going to be good.

The slice was definitely a thing to behold–very fresh sauce with huge chunks of tomatoes, a buttery crust, and superb toppings. For this type of pizza, a knife and fork, not to mention an appetite, is your best friend. This truly was the best Chicago style pizza I’ve had, and I’m only in California. I can’t imagine what it must be like in the windy city itself.

Little Star Pizza
846 Divisadero St
Western Addition, SF
415-441-1118

This Italian fixture in North Beach provides a warm, yet rushed, service with plenty of traditional food. The weather wasn’t too bad, so we decided to sit outside under the heat lamps. We started off with the carpaccio, thinly sliced raw beef served up with some vinaigrette and capers. This was actually my first time having it, so I took my time enjoying the delicate textures and flavors of this fine cut of bovine. Some time ago, I was wary about eating any meat that was served raw–that is, until I had salmon sashimi. After that heavenly experience, I decided that raw things were up to par. If you haven’t had carpaccio before, it’s really not that frightening, especially if you’re a sashimi lover. The cut of beef is of the finest and freshest quality–which it has to be, or the restaurant is in danger of poisoning their customers. This, combined with the aromatics, makes for a great experience for any beef lover.

On to the main course. We got the roasted wild boar fettucine, eggplant lasagne, and ravioli. I think all of the pasta was freshly made (although I couldn’t be sure). The flavors were decent, and middle of the road with respect to fine Italian restaurants.

All in all, Panta Rei is a good time, especially when going with friends. Although, I’m not sure if it will warrant a return trip. I’ll have to explore more of North Beach first.