Deglazed

Twain Harte is about 2.5 hours outside of the Bay Area and is a popular mountain vacation town with lakes in the summer and skiing in the winter. It’s like Tahoe without the attitude, crowds and prices. Thus the food scene in Twain Harte accommodates the clientele, as it should, and it’s not fancy. So, as a food snob on vacation, I go with the flow of the tranquil town and am delighted to be swept into The Prospector on a special prix fixe paella night which consists of four courses, each with a generous pour of finer wine. Sitting outside on a deck surrounded by redwoods, drinking Spanish wines, watching Bobby Martino work his magic at the wood fired oven is pure heaven.

And then the food comes. He clearly scoured the area for the freshest ingredients that day and used authentic Spanish additions. First is a chunky gazpacho with vivid flavors and colors. The bread in the cold soup has been soaked in aged sherry vinegar that complemented the garlic and tomatoes perfectly. Next comes the prawn crostini with cumin scented zucchini puree. Bobby clearly knows how to properly season and brighten his flavors because this course could have been dull but it is anything but. Then a surprise: the paella is not the shellfish variety like any good tourist will tell you about, but the original Valencian paella of rabbit and snails. Typical of paella, it’s a long time cooking, but we settle in with other local diners and a large bottle of wine and wait for the perfectly cooked entree. It’s beautifully complemented with baby purple carrots, baby corn and chorizo. He pulls off the house-made cinnamon ice cream with strawberry coulis and anisette- pinenut coca flawlessly. It was a perfect palate cleanser and sweet treat after a full meal. All the flavors were balanced and bright.

And at $32 per person, I am guessing he’s mostly doing it for the love.

You can get in on this love too, but leave your schedule and need for pampered service in the city. Rumor has it that the next paella night will be August 7 or 14th. Call to inquire and reserve. Other nights, stop by and try his certified authentic Napolitana pizza. I was not able to try it this time, but it will be my first stop next time I am up in the area.

There is top culinary award in my little food world. It’s called, “The Nearly Brought Me to Tears Award.” That’s tears of joy, and Incanto wins this notable award.

That’s all that needs to be said, but props can be given to the personable and professional staff, the lovely dining room, the prompt seating on a Saturday night, the inventive and risky menu perfectly executed to knock me over with flavor combinations and depth, reasonable portion sizes and prices, and the finest flourless chocolate cake which was ordered by my gluten-free dining companion. Lucky break for her.

Like walking down La Rambla, the pushy B44 waiter heckles me into a table. Bread with dipping oil infused with anchovies and herbs is a lovely teaser. And because one should never pass up fresh anchovies, I was compelled to order a beautiful composition of fillets set atop pears and aged manchego. Just try to impress me more when you put rabbit on the menu, an underrepresented protein in the states. B44 smothered it in hazelnut sauce, which felt a little Tuscan to me, but that’s the difference between love and crazy love. I could have ordered the churros and chocolate, but I usually associate those with 7AM intoxication and I felt sympathetic to my gluten intolerant dining companion. Poor wretch.

Cesar gets my heart beating for Barcelona in a completely different way. It’s Spain style tapas, meaning; go for a light meal to be enjoyed over drinks with the people around you. You can eat a small amount quickly or stay for a while, picking at a variety of cheeses, meats and cooked Spanish staples like squid, anchovies, patatas bravas and bocadillos. It’s a wonderful way to eat. If you are really hungry, order the paella which is almost as good as mine and better than most. And unlike Barcelona, the cocktail bar is one of the best around.

Both restaurants have hit or miss service. But that’s about 100% better than if you were dining in Barcelona itself. Helpful hint: don’t expect a back rub, be prepared to ask for the check three times and enjoy the whole experience, el attitude and all.

If you have never been to France to taste a properly made croissant, La Farine French Bakery can hold you over until you book your trip. In fact, La Farine is far superior to 99% of other bakeries in the Bay Area. Good luck trying to get out of La Farine without other perfectly made classics like brioche, pain chocolat, baguettes and crusty loaves of levain bread presented like plentiful cornucopias in wooden baskets. For a special addictive treat, hit the morning buns before they are sold out, and the do sell out.

It was worth the trip over the bridge (that’s right, I’m bridge and tunnel, go east bay!), and to find parking, and to squeeze into my best pair of jeans with heals, and to walk four blocks from the car, and to fail at getting the bartenders’ (plural) attention for a cocktail, because when I sat down, received my cocktail from our lovely waitress, I started to relax into the menu. And what a delight the menu was. Four of us could not properly get a sampling of their offerings. I keep going back and forth if it was trendy food (seared duck breast, farro, mustard greens, red onions, currant and pine nuts), or comfort food (country pork chop, cannelini beans, wilted greens and salsa verde). The conclusion is that Nopa is comfort food with frosting, and I can’t think of any other way I would want to eat. The perfectly cooked dishes were inventive enough to impress me, and familiar enough for me to scrape my plate with bread.

Take seasonal, high quality and sometimes unique ingredients, rich broth, fresh noodles, fair prices, throw it in a bowl, and you get…a line out the door. But the helpful servers at Noodle Theory on College Ave in Oakland, do what they can to seat you as soon as possible in a cozy, cramped but welcoming dining room with open kitchen.

The small, seasonal menu offers a fair variety for most eaters (vegetarians and those with allergies will feel limited), but listen closely to the specials, as that is where the pot of gold is. Recent specials have featured braised ox-tail in a spicy Szechwan broth with udon, and duck confit in a daikon radish broth with ramen.

Don’t want to wait? They offer take-out.

Hi my name is Leslie and I am Las Vegas-aholic. There are many vices Vegas can tempt, and one of my financial downfalls is the restaurant scene. The others belong on a different blog, but here, I can emote about Tomas Kellers, Bouchon. In short, “Ideal Vegas Dining.”

The big French Bistro is on the 10th floor of the Venetian, so there are no casino onlookers or distant chimes of slot machines. The wait staff is polite and friendly and not pretentious which is a breath of fresh air, so to speak, for Vegas fine dining. Our waiter didn’t know enough about the menu, but this doesn’t bother me too much. He asked if we wanted the big oysters or little oysters, but by the time he brought us our half-shells, the shucker had tutored him in the actual varietals.

The food was as flavorful and fresh as French Laundry, but much more recognizable in presentation. The endive and watercress salad was perfectly dressed, not too oily, not too heavy. The flavor of the lettuce could still be appreciated.

If you are ever going to order Steak Frites outside of France, this is a damn good place to forget anything you know about nutrition and chalk this meal up to “when in Vegas…”

If you still feel concerned about portion control, calories, carbs and blah blah blah, and you are not a raw vegan, the leg of lamb, sopped up with some jus, almost brought a tear to my eye. Sliced into medallions, it was just the right amount of medium rare, tender, non-gamy roast, with fava beans and polenta. It seemed simple, but it takes a lot of work to get each element on a plate just right, and they did for each plate. Well Done.

Side note: I am perplexed by one thing, and this is not specific to Bouchon, but they are guilty of this…Why can’t I ever get a cappuccino made the way I had in France or Italy? Does anyone else know to what I am referring? Inevitably, I receive a latte with a sculpted mound of dry foam on top. I am looking for equal parts milk to espresso, with a creamy, foamy layer on top. I am not one to order cappuccinos to my specifications. I reserve that side of my charming personality for more important things like the doneness of a steak. But the hunt is on and I could use some help.