Donuts! Now there’s a new concept.
Actually there’s nothing new about donuts, and places like Krispy Kreme have come, and (almost) gone. But tucked away in a sunny corner of 24th Street in the Mission is the Dynamo Donut & Coffee shop.
I feel like I deserve a majority of the credit (or blame…depending on how you look at it) for the cupcake craze. I was eating them decades ago, when no one gave them a second thought. And now, as someone who teaches baking told me, making and selling cupcakes in America is like printing money.
I’m not much for trendy foods, but for some reason, mid-day yesterday, right in the middle of my Japanese bento box lunch of chicken katsu and seaweed salad, I was seized with the overwhelming desire for a cupcake.
Stop the presses!
Although I think in this day and age of online publishing, what do we now say—stop the downloading? Somehow, that doesn’t have the same sense of urgency to it.
Still, this is important.
I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, but my search for the perfect burger was not to be resolved in Paris.
Is PPQ the best Vietnamese restaurant in San Francisco?
I used to be in the camp of Vietnam II for the longest time, mainly because when I worked at a Southeast Asian restaurant, that’s where almost all of my co-workers ate.
That is, until I discovered Pho Phú Quôc, otherwise known as PPQ. Which is funny: I always guessed that they had to shorten their name since I’m probably not the only one that doesn’t know how to really pronounce “pho“.
After a couple of too-lengthy flights, I finally landed in San Francisco. I arrived with a full agenda of things to do, and fortunately got all the not-so-fun stuff completely out of the way by the end of Day #2.
So now I have nothing to do for a whole week here—except eat!
In my quest for a good burger in Paris, I was enthralled that many of you wrote with so many suggestions. I once took a course in food writing and the teacher told us not to use words like “enthralled” and “opt” because people don’t use them in everyday speech.
When I opt to look out my window, I’m enthralled at the view of Paris.
Anyhow, thanks to my vigilant readers, I’m now armed with a comprehensive list—and so are you, of places to find a decent burger here.
And to the person who wrote on an online bulletin board that they didn’t feel sorry for me, well, I ask you, where is the love, folks? This isn’t supposed to be the RNC.
Let’s just say I believe that it’s every American’s constitutional right to have access to a great burger no matter where they are in the world, and leave it at that.
I am so glad I’m not on a low-carb diet. If I was, I’d have to move.
Seriously—if I couldn’t eat bread, I would shrive up and die. The only thing keeping me from doing that is constant hydrating myself with wine. Luckily, that’s another one of the other things around here that I don’t need to avoid.
When I told Romain’s mom that we didn’t have bakeries in the US like they have in France, she couldn’t believe it.
“Ooohh?…” she wondered aloud, “So where does everyone get their bread every day?”
One of the first places I went to in Paris when I was setting up house, was Goumanyat. My friend David Tanis took me there, who is a chef and lived in Paris part-time. And as I roamed through the neat shop, poked in the wooden drawers and sniffed in the jars, I was thrilled to find such a treasure trove of spices and comestibles to stock my petit placard.
Yet the real star of the show at Goumanyat is saffron, which they stock in every conceivable fashion. Of course, there’s a huge glass urn of wispy saffron threads, which one can use to flavor a tagine or even a batch of ice cream. But saffron also shows up in many other guises here, sometimes in places where you’d least expect it.