A Taste of the Southwest

I recently embarked on a rather excellent road trip through the Southwest to see geo- and archaeological wonders galore. The scenery was incredible, the culture was one-of-a-kind and, all together, it resulted in a very satisfying appreciation of the Ol' West and the beauty of this here wonderful country. Not to be overlooked were the many interesting and somewhat painful meals (Holiday Inn, I'm looking at you) that come with eating out 3x a day in an unknown land. Some of them, however, were quite delicious and truly representative of that local flavor. So I thought I would invite you to the table with this summary of our Southwest Road Trip's greatest meals.

1) Quite early on the journey, while traveling through a mountain pass on our way to Death Valley, land of awesomeness and sodium, we wandered past this epic diner of dehydrated meats and fruits. When we first got there, there was actually some Quicksilver tour bus headed the opposite direction with a bunch of hot, endorsed-out surfer types sporting shaggy sun-bleached hair and sandals in the 40 degree weather. So that was sweet. This picture of a damaged portapotty also sets the scene. The business was actually quite tasteful with all sorts of jivin' jams, canned goods and dried deliciousness. Our meats of choice were buffalo, elk and venison, all spiced and only barely distinguishable. Elk was my favorite though - really a texture thing more than anything else. When craving snacks in the mountains, there's nothing like cured flesh to make you ponder back on the days of covered wagons, gold-panning and forest living. Ah the Southwest, still a land of unconquered wonder.....and jerky!

2) We wandered into Sedona unknowing and naive. Everything in the area is wild and desolate, but this is a gem of upper-class high-life in the middle of some of the most beautiful red mountains and glacier forest streams I have ever seen. The presence of a private airport means most of the people waiting to be seated were from completely different states (eg. IL, NY) altogether. And I do mean waiting. Apparently the list of high-class restaurants has yet to meet up with the mid-week demand, because every place in town had an hour minimum wait, and the WASPs were out in force. Definitely the fanciest meal of the week, dinner at Cafe Elote, thankfully, did not disappoint. With a wait like that, I was ready to be angry, but the food melted away my fury in a bath of deliciousness. Oh, that and the blood orange margarita in the foyer certainly didn't hurt. But the star of the night, no doubt about it, was the tamale. I have never had a tamale that delicious, and I doubt I will anytime soon....at least in this country. The exact description is: "Michoacan style fresh corn tamales, salsa verde and crema," but somewhere between the homemade green pepper salsa and the whole kernels of perfectly steamed sweet corn hiding amongst the depths of the warm tamale, it became so much more. (For a complete rundown on tamale types, check out this site) Because a trip to the Southwest without Mexican food is like a trip to Outerspace with the blinds drawn....

3) And now we come to my absolute favorite meal of the trip. This is the kind of meal you fondle in your memory and drool over in your spare time. Mmmm. Simplistic, quaint and yet oh so ground-moving. We stumbled across this family owned business at a corner to nowhere that was actually some highway turnoff large enough to support a small town and maybe even a McDonalds. A town like that can only mean at least one decent local restaurant with the touch for tastebuds of the tried and true. And Amigo's is certainly that. The first act of genius was the fact that chimichanga that I ordered (traditionally tortilla wrapped meat that is deep fried), replaced the Mexican standard with the Native equivalent to produce an astonishingly awesome creation called a frybread chimichanga. O...M...G... And then, they had to go an make it even more amazing by making their own sour cream. That's right! They made their own sour cream. Salsa you can expect. But sour cream?=Genius! That means no sloppy, liquid texture and off-beat taste, but instead, pure, clean and solid creamy goodness. I'm salivating just thinking about it. I....want....more....


4) And last, but not least, (mostly because these are temporal order and not tastiness order) our full-on, old-school Native meal of mutton at Monument Valley, makes the list. When you're on a reservation, surrounded by geological wonders engulfed in sand and snow due to 40 mph winds, what better place to be than in a Native-run restaurant with a table by the window? And, as they say....When on the Rez, eat like the Natives. Hence our choice of the house-recommended, traditional mutton stew. With a side of frybread of course. And a frosty Mexican coke? Now we're talking. The stew was deep and hearty, and it matched with our sugary frybread in a way that only the Southwest can explain. Mmm, mmm good. It was a little sad seeing all the blond Europeans around us eating dino-nuggets and fries, but at least I know that I kept it real. I'm just disappointed that we weren't hungry enough to try their other house specialty - green chile chilli. Recommended by Esquire! I guess when they did their piece on sweet movies filmed in the Southwest, they had to mention the only restaurant in 100 miles. When you're way out there, it's easy to be taken advantage of in the act of dining. Either your mouth or wallet will suffer. Luckily, this Monument Valley Cafe was kind enough to offer goodness and greatness, at a reasonable price! At least, if you ordered local cuisine and not the grilled cheese....

S&B's Meytov Cafe (Davis, CA)

It probably comes as no surprise that I, like many Americans, was once a "meat for meals" girl. That's right: eggs and bacon for bfast, ham sandwich for lunch, steak and tators for dinner. In our society it is considered commonplace to have meat with every meal, and the notion of the dinner built around a main meat (much like a main squeeze) is often hard to shake while crushing through the aisles of your local organic foodstuff store. But hurra!, S&B have shown me the light of the all-vegetarian meal, a feat I never would have considered possible a mere handful of years ago. The key to vegetarian dinners, I have learned, is that fit-for-a-king, banquet inspired wonder known as tapas. That's right, tapas, tapas, tapas. Discard the notion of meat-veggie-starch completely and just think delicious, delicious, delicious! That is definitely what I experienced during my most recent excursion to cowtown in order to eat at the most pleasant of pop-up places. Pop-up restaurants are becoming a huge trend in San Francisco, and thus it's no surprise that SF's sketchy first cousin (ie Davis) has picked up the reins on this righteous revival. The pop-up is based around the concept of ever-changing menus and locales; a single-night experience if you will, designed to take people back to their first passion: eating. Often times, a casual venue will host a revolving variety of local talent on predesigned nights to give dining the artistic sensibility it so definitely deserves. The comfortable and communal atmosphere of S&B's Meytov Cafe, combined with the always-inventive, tapas pop-menu made the night both delicious and delightful (and the good company was just extra credit!). The mushroom course was dark and decadent; with both sauteed treats and filo wrapped fungus, the dipping jous sent the app over the edge into fungal frenzy. Mmmm... The cafe also contributed a fresh-baked loaf of gouda-hallah, combining the sweet and salty into the perfect pastry. And don't forget the made-to-order carrot ginger soup, silky smooth and stuffed with flavor. Man, you've got to love a good soup. They even pulled out all the stops, slipping a little cream into a usually-vegan dish to make it luxuriously lappable. However, the star of the meal may actually have been that strawberry salsa. Made to top the fresh quesadillas, the salsa was seriously something else. The cilantro and onions clearly set the tone for a savory sauce, and the strawberries delivered. Crisp and bright, brilliantly executed and leaving me dreaming for more. Curried cauliflower and home-made profiteroles, so good I made myself eat two, finished up the courses. The only danger with tapas is the overarching themes and flavor profiles. Flying across the globe, the mischievious meal probably could have used just the tiniest smudge more of artistic direction. But then again, I get the feeling that movements like that are developed during a lifetime of culinary artistre. So, until then, I will gladly sit by and eat things for the good cause of image and perfection. Please, take your time.

Final Judgment: "The ultimate in community culination and pop-up perfection!/ Appreciating the underdog and gorging on vegetables can lead to a near-religious experience! / Vegetarians for President!

PS. For those of you un/lucky enough to be in Davis, check out Sasha's Soup Club to keep your gullet happy! Free delivery! Lemony delicious hummus! And all while feeling deliciously full and healthy, an often underrated extension of the eating process!

Limón (Valencia St., San Francisco)

It's not my fault I live in the hippest neighborhood in the city, I swear. And thus, it's not my fault that I hit up this always-hopping, hipster haven at Valencia and 16th. Actually, I don't know what I was thinking. This was a terrible food experience, and one I never plan to repeat. Blech. Now, don't get me wrong, some of my most delicious events happened in Peru (eg. squash donuts; grilled heart), but overall, it was not exactly the most....memorable of my South American adventures. So I guess choosing a Peruvian restaurant in the city may not have been the best idea. But I was craving some causa. And the promise of fusion fancy food, plus a menu boasting ceviches and maracuya dressing, gave me a false hope of deliciousness that was, sadly, never to be fulfilled. I mean, the sashimi app I got was tasty and fresh, just a little mushy. So there are some points. But the ceviche (a secret passion of mine) was literally something you would use to maintain a 3-axled vehicle. I'm glad I tasted it first, because even a dab made my face shrivel up in involuntary sourpussness. After a couple of dares and a few elbow jabs, Spencer took the ceviche juice like a shot (as prepared), and I definitely attribute his later queasiness to that gut-wrenching, battery acid of an appetizer. Well, I'm not sure why this was fusion, except for the fish I guess. Oh, and the teriyaki steak. Oh and the terrible mac and cheese....(no stretchiness = unAmerican). Even the causa was lame and filled with way too much chicken salad. Overall, it was like eating in a terrible, Hospital cafeteria lunch line, and that is not something worth paying for without a friend or close relative experiencing some sort of medical care-inducing illness. Blech again. Even the profiteroles (a recent indulgence of mine) were dissatisfying. The worst part was seeing all those fancy-footed idiots in the place pretending like it was the most delicious and exotic food they'd ever had. Final blech.

Final Judgement: "All the hipsters cramming up the sidewalk and looking douchey outside this place like it's the cat's meow lead me to conclude one thing:
CHAIN-SMOKING TO FIT INTO SKINNY JEANS ONLY KILLS YOUR TASTEBUDS!"

Dockside Bistro (Olympia, WA)

Well, who can say no to family? A request received is a gift given. Or something like that. Hence, a refreshing post on a small restaurant in that sexy city on the Sound. Dockside Bistro is an all-city restaurant that has been telebeamed to our quaint downtown (pop. 45k) to provide deceptively simple food in a sensual atmosphere. The food is good. Dare I say it...perfectly cooked. And (thank god) since we're back in the always-shrouded-in-mystery Pacific Northwest (at least to us Californ-i-ans [yep, I'm official]), we are once again treated to the luxury of wild game and local delicacies. Buffalo, salmon, scallops, and elk are just some of the highlights. I can't spew all sugar and strawberries though: I have to lay down the line somewhere. The food was good, yes, but not very daring. I mean, cowardly at best. The flavors were mild and unsurprising. When will I find that place where the highlight of the menu doesn't involve meat and potatoes? Too much to hope for I guess. To be fair, they were excellent meat and potatoes. And the presentation was really with it. Oh wait....Dun-dun!; a golden beam shines down from heaven. The true highlight of this place was the gift of the gods known as the huckleberry buckle. Now, I don't know what the fuck a buckle is, or why they called it that, and I don't really care. It's basically a cobbler with more fruit and less crust. And it is truly a wonder to behold. Ahhh, the buckle. Dockside Bistro also has a full cocktail and wine bar; sometimes samplers, tastings, even music and events. And the location really can't be beat. Unfortunately, this truly is a city restaurant transposed. If my experience there reveals anything (to be honest, it was singular and towards closing time), it's that the city feeling goes beyond the fancy food. For one thing, the place is closed on Monday, the classic condition down here in SF. Even our waiter was from SF! Indeed, be prepared to hear some Oly-trash talk by the drunken patrons and wily waiters. It seems that many a customer may actually be an out-of-towner, just passing through due to the little known fact that Olympia is actually the Capitol of Washington State (gasp! shock!). So, shimmy into those nylons and get yourself down to the Dockside Bistro to find a big-timey husband who might just be able to show a small-town girl like yourself the big, bad world. Or...just go for the food.

I officially deem it: "The fanciest digs in town!/Long life to cobbler, tart, pie, torte, pandowdy, grunt, slump, buckle, crisp, croustade and crow's nest pudding!"

Staccato at the Fire House (Bend, OR)

Well, I'm posting on this juicy gem partly due to familial requests, and partly because I just ate there recently and it was damn good. Quite a find even. I almost feel like I just have to link to the menu to prove my point. With those fried gnocchi in pumpkin sauce...and pear-bruscetta...that pork shoulder in cab n' coffee...(drool)...boar ragout...and, oh, that elk ravioli with apple and blue cheese. What a good idea! Fruit and wild game are never a poor choice! Especially in combination as I have recently learned. The best part about eating upscale in the Pacific NW is all the use of local and wild ingredients. And they love that big game. Not surprisingly, so do I. This place has some other basics, not totally vegetarian friendly per se (yes, due to the increasing frequency of veg-head friends that I am maintaining, I have become more sensitive to the veggie side of high-scale menus. I mean, how hard is it to make a steak taste good? give me something with skill!: like cauliflower!), but the presence of the large, brick, pizza oven, displayed in both the douchiest and tackiest way I have ever seen (ie behind a large window in a giant, carved, painting frame) says one thing for sure: bring your kids! That is, of course, as long as you we're willing to spend $15-$25/brat-head. Then again, this is Bend, land of white, middle-class, retirees and vacationers who want nature with amenities. Hey, it's no crime. Staccato also boasts an entire page of West Coast wines, an act at which I will gladly tilt my imaginary porkpie hat. Oh, and best of all: an in-house pastry chef means delightful delectables to wash down the meaty meal. What more could you ask for?

Final Judgment: "City dining in a quiet Mountain town = surprisingly satisfying"

Boogaloos (San Francisco)

Set in the Mission District of San Francisco, Boogaloos is known for one thing: breakfast. That's right, this is the place to go if you're craving a big helping of eggs n' homefries. The house-smoked gravlox benedict (weekends only) is salty and delicious and highly recommended. Hearty helpings and a bevy of sauces (vegetarian gravy? how do you even do that?) make this a satisfying Sunday meal. But, to tell you the truth, I've only sampled half the menu. For some reason, the owners have decided to include a large section of gentrified Latin-based breakfast platters. It's true, there are a few Mexicans in the kitchen, but this middle-class derivation certainly isn't calling my name. Riddle me this: how can it be a convincing Central American breakfast without the side of farmer's cheese?! It's can't my friend, it can't. That's why, whenever I'm craving sweet plaintains and cream, eggs and pupusas, always with a side of queso granjero, I head down the road to Balompie and eat El Salvadorean. But, you could say that Boogaloos, clearly the American version of my more awesomely authentic option, is just living up to the Mission name and standard I suppose. And thus, they have included a most-probably popular, American-Latin breakfast alternative that includes beans and tortillas. Such is fate. Be prepared to be met by an all-white, hipster staff, laced with tattoos and sure to make any self-respecting bike messenger waking up at their casual f-buddy's pad on Guerrero after a night of drunken debauchery feel right at home. Oh wait, that's right; some people take taxis there. Sanctuary city for the rich (and the wannabes) is right. It's a good thing hangover hair is in I guess, because Sunday morning is bound to bring a gaggle of goofy yupsters crowding up the sidewalk. How do they even manage to pull themselves out of bed that early? Get there before 10 if you don't want to wait for half an hour. Although, I have been known to wait alongside the grungiest of them. There's just no other acceptable, upscale diner-style alternative within a five block radius! And, truth-be-told, I'm usually feeling pretty lazy on a brunch-going day. Such is city-living. One last thing: please tell me that that po-mo art on the walls is actually made by children and not by hipsters with delusions-of-grandeur! I can't even tell anymore.

Final Judgment: "Satisfying my need for a hearty, all-American Sunday brunch, complete with San Franciscan standards ie local ingredients, competitive coffee and all the douchiness you can handle."