Now You're Cooking With Beer
One of the latest cooking fads to hit the San Francisco dining scene is the use of various types of beer. In recent years beer has been legitimized in the world of fine dining: No longer the sole province of tubby Wisconsin millworkers, it now costs up to $30 a bottle and is poured down the most discerning throats.
And, like wine before it, beer is now making the leap from glass to plate, enhancing food from within as well as accompanying it. Evoking the warmth and heartiness of the grain from which it is made, yet carrying its own unique tang, it is finding its way into unlikely places. Among the treats being concocted by local chefs are beer mashed potatoes, vanilla-beer creme brulee, porcini and white truffle ravioli in a sage-beer jus, seared foie gras with fresh green grapes and a beer reduction, so-called "Cantonese beer dumplings," chilled beer soup, beer salad, and even a beer sorbet trio made with three types of beer and served with a beer coulis.
The city's bars are also jumping on the bandwagon, selling more beer than ever before. In addition to the classic pints, half-pints, and pitchers of beer, inventive bartenders are serving shots of beer on the rocks, as well as beer Cosmopolitans and beer martinis. Watch this column in upcoming weeks for beer recipes from guest chefs.
Reservations: Are They Bookings or Qualms?
To combat the growing number of patrons who fail to show up for tables they have reserved, San Francisco restaurants are increasing their precautions against broken reservations. Local eateries are instituting punitive policies, including some that many diners find excessively harsh.
Aqua, for example, now requires a no-limit credit card number for parties of eight or more. If the party fails to show up for its reservation, $5,000 per diner is charged to the card. More drastic still is LuLu's policy: An actual credit card must be presented in person to make a reservation; if the restaurant is not given 24-hour notice of a change of plans, the offender's card is simply tossed into the establishment's famed rustic rotisserie oven.
Restaurants are not stopping at inflicting mere financial damage onto reservation delinquents. It is necessary to provide a current employment reference to get a table at Farallon, and the restaurant's skilled PR staff will spread rumors at the workplaces of tardy diners. A similar form of humiliation is practiced by the reservationist at Boulevard, who devotes a significant portion of her time to placing a series of mysterious late-night calls engineered to sow suspicion in the minds of reservation-breakers' significant others.
Other area restaurants are not as subtle. Postrio, which lost an estimated $1 million to no-shows in 1998, requires a cancellation five days in advance, on paper, notarized. Since November, a "reservation enforcement" staff has been retained, whose identities are closely guarded by the restaurant's management. Their duties include abducting and occasionally killing the pets of those who transgress Postrio's rigid policy.
Perhaps the strictest reservation policy is that of Masa's. Having found its former practice of burning derelict patrons in effigy less than effective, they now require a hostage, preferably a spouse or child, to be given for every reservation made. No hostages have been killed yet, but a Mill Valley man lost two fingers last month when his wife showed up at 8:16 for an 8 o'clock reservation. "It's severe, but we're serious about this," one staffer says. "People need to learn that reserving a table is not a joke."
A More Pampered Cow
Wagyu, the luxuriously marbled beef from Japan, has long been the gold standard for meat. As tradition dictates, the cattle are permitted to roam freely, receive regular massages, and are fed beer and sake. The result is meat that is sweet and velvety. This month, Marcus Ranch of Sonoma introduces its domestic version of Wagyu, which the company claims is even more pampered and hence more tasty than the Japanese variety. Marcus' cows, which come from the same strain as traditional Wagyu cattle, are led in specially formulated workouts, to keep them happy, reduce stress, and optimally distribute the fat throughout their bodies. They are fed a diet of fresh organic baby greens and microbrewed beer, with a bottle of wine on special occasions, and treated to a weekly regimen of acupressure, colonic therapy, and alpha-hydroxy fruit acid peels. At the age of 8 to 10 months, they are discreetly slaughtered. Marcus Wagyu is available at selected San Francisco butchers, for about $200 a pound.
It is also possible to "adopt" an individual cow and sponsor its progress. You will receive periodic photos and updates from your cow, and at the end of its career its steaks will be shipped to you. Contact Marcus Ranch for details.
By Paul Adams