Cali, Final Edition: Keller Unbuttoned, Greasy Burritos, and Barbecued Oysters

Nick's Cove: gorgeous views and fantastic oysters

By Mollie Chen

And finally, five last reasons to love California. Now I can stop procrastinating and get started on all the very late copy I owe our Production department.

  Liberty Farms duck at Ad Hoc

11. At Ad Hoc, Thomas Keller takes a step back (he isn't even digitally present in the kitchen) and lets you serve yourself from family-style platters. The menu is scrawled on a blackboard (Liberty Farms duck breast encircled by a cheery heart) and the servers claim to be the best-fed staff in town (their staff meals even include dessert). Plus, unlike at many star chef-run restaurants, the patrons seem like neighborhood folks and not rabid foodies with to-eat checklists.

12. In tiny, crunchy Point Reyes, the Tomales Bay Food Company only has a few tenants but they are an impressive bunch: Cowgirl Creamery, which has a display kitchen where you can watch cheesemongers making Mt. Tam; the Cowgirl Cantina, where you can get a scoop (or three) of the to-die-for Three Twins cardamom ice cream; and Little Shorty's small but wonderful produce stand.

13. The corner of Mission and 25t St. in San Francisco: within a few storefronts radius, you can have a delicious burrito at La Taqueria, a gooey pupusa directly next door, or a slice of homey pie at Mission Pie (the retail outlet of Pie Ranch, an educational farm in Davenport, CA).

14. When you order a fruit salad, whether at the hippy-ish Homemade Cafe in Berkeley, where we stood out as the only non-tattooed clientele, or at the self-consciously sleek SolBar at the new Solage Resort in Calistoga, the fruit actually tastes like fruit and not like water. I believe bountiful is the word: strawberries that were bright crimson in the center instead of white; firm, happy persimmons, oozy figs, and sweet-tart plums.

15. A crazy, serpentine drive from San Francisco, recently opened Nick's Cove occupies a surreally gorgeous stretch of Tomales Bay. Sit in the light-filled patio, where you feel like you're floating over the crystalline water, and order the oysters - raw, barbequed, and fried. Slurp them noisily, then lean back and enjoy the view. If you can afford it, rent one of the cabins that are perched on stilts over the rocks -- then you can settle into your own rocking chair for the sunset.

More Reasons to Love California: Dancing Cows, Au Courant Dishware, and Loveable Neighborhood Grocers

Brand-new Spruce has style and substance

By Mollie Chen

I had strawberries yesterday and it was a sad reminder of what we on the East Coast are missing. Even as I am excited to cook my favorite fall soup (green apple, squash, sweet potato, turnip, and any root vegetable you can think of - roasted, then pureed with maple syrup and cayenne), I am still stuck on California.

6. In Napa Valley, you can have fresh-baked goods at any number of stylish, overpriced breakfast spots. Or you can pull off Hwy 29 at the ten-foot tall dancing cow that marks Taqueria La Vaca and have a belly-busting meal of red hot chilaquiles with hand-mashed guacamole. Don't leave without posing for a picture with the aforementioned cow. Smile big.

7. Peet's Coffee. On every street corner, cheaper than most Manhattan deli cups, and without the guilt that accompanies your Starbucks latte.

8. Barely larger than my corner bodega, Bi-Rite Market in the Mission District is packed with all manner of natural, organic, sustainable, responsible, and local foodstuffs. I left with Kika's Treat's caramelized graham crackers with dark chocolate and a jar of June Taylor blood orange marmalade and then walked up the block to their sister shop, the Bi-Rite Creamery. I'd heard about their salted caramel ice cream and it didn't disappoint - with a deep, just shy of burnt flavor and pronounced saltiness. The malted vanilla with peanut butter is a close second.

9. No Styrofoam anywhere, just biodegradable bowls, cups, and utensils. They're understated, minimalist, sturdy -- just the thing for all of us Al Gore groupies who can't give up our ice cream and coffee breaks.

10. In many ways, San Francisco's Spruce is just another irritatingly hip new restaurant: cool architectural quirk (former car garage); chic industrial decor (exposed steel trestles, textured, sisal-covered walls); and hot ticket menu items (burrata, foie gras, heirloom tomatoes, house-made salumi). But wait. There's a fat, juicy $12 burger served with top-notch fries and a refreshingly simple shaved zucchini salad, plus any number of other dishes worth coming back for -- tender Berkshire pork with just-shelled beans and a deep, dark chocolate fondant. At the canteen at the front, you can buy charcuterie (don't miss the decadent duck mousse), cheese, and other prepared foods.

Still more to come...

Digging El Salvadorean Papusas in NYC (and Other End of Summer Eats)

Too busy pigging out to take good pictures: The Red Hook Ball Fields food stands

By Mollie Chen

The theme of this week's Top Chef (feel free to snicker) was back to basics; contestants were dared to create transcendent dishes from three lowly ingredients: a chicken, a potato, and an onion. They succeeded to varying degrees and the show made an obvious, but sometimes forgotten point: simple is good, especially if you can make it great. I've been eating out a lot lately and my favorite meals have been the least elaborate ones - and the new restaurants I am looking forward to are not the most showy, ostentatious ones.

Last weekend I finally (better late than never) made it to the Red Hook Ball Fields and one bite into my ecstasy-inducing pork huarache - a kind of open-faced taco on crack - I was kicking myself for having waited so long. My friend Hayley and I ate our way through the vendors, sampling the El Salvadorean pupusas, which were crisp and doughy and cheesy all in one, the charred corn with cheese and chile, and the caramelized fried plantains. The best part was that in between snacks, we joined the motley block party of families, hipsters, and Manhattanites that were clumped around the soccer fields watching the not-so-fit but very enthusiastic soccer players with the DJ-provided salsa and merengue music in the background. It was one of those perfect, delicious days that makes you giddy that you live in New York. If you live anywhere near the five boroughs, it is your civic duty to go to Red Hook this weekend.

Mexico: Corn Fungus and Cutting-Edge Design as Far as the Eye Can See

Chiles en nogada and mole poblano in Puebla
By Mollie Chen
By marvelous coincidence, the special Latino America-themed September issue of Gourmet arrived on my desk just hours before I was scheduled to fly to Mexico City. The charred tamales piled on a cheery azure plate seemed to promise four days of lively mariachi music and rustic and authentic food. I sped through the magazine on the plane, salivating over Robb Walsh's story of lesser known taco truck cities and flagging Junot Diaz's article about Dominican food in uptown Manhattan. By the time we touched down, I was primed for Mexican food and I wanted it right away, preferably prepared in front of me and subsequently gobbled while standing up.

In reality, my first Mexican meal was a packet of Primera Plus galletas (delightfully buttery, with a subtle sabor de naranja) on the bus. When we arrived in San Miguel de Allende three hours later, where we had come to attend the birthday party of an old family friend, my parents and I were grumpy with hunger and poised to attack the next unsuspecting tortilla maker. But because we were in San Miguel, which is charming and beautiful but dominated by expats, we met our friends in the lovely courtyard of the restaurant Bacco. In a setting reminiscent of a more modest Italian villa, we ate pizzas and drank copious amounts of red wine. For dessert: chocolate cake. I went to bed dreaming of poblano chiles.

Delicious Reads for All Types of Travelers

Mexico: Land of one thousand bus rides.

By Mollie Chen
I just got back from a four-day trip to Mexico where I fell in love with corn fungus (more on that later) and the "first class" national bus system. Fung Wah and Greyhound, take note: Mexican buses offer complimentary snack packs and eclectic movie selections, ranging from director Yimou Zhang's soaring Chinese epic House of Flying Daggers to the low-budget 80s heartwarmer The Slugger's Wife. Between approximately twenty hours of flights and driving, I had ample time to catch up on my reading. For your own late summer jaunts, our latest issue has 86 must-reads; in addition, here are some of my most recent food-themed favorites.

Next Generation Spa Food

The restaurant at Miami's Canyon Ranch Living will cater to those seeking spiritual enlightenment with a side of perfectly seared grass-fed beef

By Mollie Chen
Ironically enough, yesterday's International Spa Association media extravaganza was absolutely exhausting. I am not kidding. Before I started at Traveler, I thought spas were somewhere to get your nails done. Wrong. Spas are seriously big. Huge, actually - in the US alone, they have revenues in excess of $9 billion annually. And from working on our annual Hot Spas list, I know that every year there are more elaborate and more luxurious resort, destination, and city spas opening around the world. 

I've never been a spa person -- I get stressed out during massages (a strange Type A personality tic that never ceases to baffle people) -- but I do love lounging about the plush meditation rooms and snacking on the various edibles that are on offer. It is not just lemon water and cucumber slices: Hawaii's spas always have a surfeit of tropical fruits and refreshing teas; city chic Bliss outlets display trays of brownie bites and cheese; and the Willow Stream at the Fairmont Scottsdale Princess is known for their signature Anzac cookies. And, from what I saw (and tasted) yesterday, spa-goers have a lot of happy eating in front of them.

Eating New York (and New Jersey)

On the hunt for micro-greens, garlic scapes, and gooseberries at the Union Square Greenmarket

By Mollie Chen
Upon finishing Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Science, Miracle, I had an uncontrollable craving for fresh, local produce. I grabbed the reusable tote bag that my mom gave me (after I veto-ed my father's suggestion that I should invest in a rolly cart like the one my grandmother drags through Chinatown) and skipped to Whole Foods, smugly imagining the luscious local fruits and vegetables I would buy -- so recently picked as to still have dirt clinging to their humanely cultivated roots. I sped through the automatic doors, plunged into the frigid air-conditioning, and made a beeline for the produce department. And there they were: strawberries from California, bananas from Peru, and apples from New Zealand.

The Nation That Ate Everything?

By Mollie Chen

Last night, while talking to my sister on the phone, she proceeded to make me completely jealous with stories about her birthday dinner at Toro (which is quickly becoming her second home). "The foie was amazing," she said rapturously. "And the chef sent me out sweetbreads!" This from the girl who used to subsist on a diet comprised exclusively of bagels, cream cheese, and French fries. Annie has lost some of her culinary inhibitions and it would seem as though the American diner has as well -at least to some extent.

Recently, while researching a feature for our September issue (the super duper special 20th Anniversary issue), I got to do two of my favorite things-read about food and then talk to smart people about it. One of the things that kept coming up was offal - meaning all the "other" parts of the animal besides bones and muscle: tongue, feet, stomach, brains etc. Andy Smith, editor of the Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink, says that this really isn’t anything new. "Up until 60 or 70 years ago, that is what Americans would be eating anyway. I don't know when we lost that. Historically, nothing was thrown out - look at old cookbooks, they have everything in there from cow tits to anything they could possibly eat."

Bitter's Treachery, Part 2

The Materialist was not pleased. Not only had Bitter tricked her into going to the one place she'd specifically told him she didn't want to go to--the Materialist had only so many meals in which to stuff her face, after all, and she wasn't about to waste one of them on Otoko-dojo--but even worse, none of the staff were especially cute! They weren't even all male--aside from the eyebrowless chef, there was also a healthy sort of pigtailed girl; a laconic, henna-haired boy with a lazy charm but a middle running towards fat; and a scurrying tall thin person with a narrow, rodentlike face and a burst of hair who looked something like a Japanese Clay Aiken. Then there was the bartender, the one genuinely great-looking guy on staff, but he was mostly blotted out by the large, eyebrowless chef, whose face was red-faced and puffy and tender-looking from the heat of the grill.

A Decadent Pick-Me-Up

By Mollie Chen

One of my idiosyncrasies (all lovable, I like to think) is that I hate fruit and chocolate together. Hate it. Love my fruit, love my chocolate, love them separately. "Not even chocolate-covered strawberries?" Negative. I hate how the chocolate masks the clean, ripe juiciness of the berries and how the acidity of the strawberries leaks onto the smooth chocolate. I make exceptions for chocolate and bananas, especially when there is peanut butter in the equation. I do, however, love chocolate with nuts, spices, and other far-flung ingredients. Which is why I was so taken with the gorgeous confections I recently received via one of our fabulous interns, Rosa - all the more appreciated because they came after a hellish Monday.