Ahhh Quince. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways... or, in this case, the courses.
I'm going back in time a little bit, but don't want to forget about the great dinner Ric and I had when my dad was in town last weekend. After a weekend of enjoying California's bounty we topped it off with a Sunday evening meal at our favorite restaurant, Quince. Since there are honestly so many things I love about this place, I'm just going to list them out (I love lists!):
1. Location - it's in our neighborhood, about four blocks away, and is tucked in a completely residential area. Amidst all the apartment buildings and cute Victorian houses, you see the burnt orange banner of Quince calling you home.
2. Service - Good service goes a long way, especially when you're paying top dollar for a meal. And Quince gets an A++ with a gold star and a cherry on top in this category. This may say a little too much about how often we eat there, but everyone from the reservationist to the concierge, to Lindsay (the owner) knows our names, what kind of water we drink (San Francisco's finest) and can remember what we talked about the last time we came in. This is not easy to do. They have hundreds of people coming through that restaurant and to remember this level of detail really speaks highly of the team they have. We are no one special, but we certainly feel like it every time we eat at Quince.
3. Mike - We love going in on Sunday's because it's relatively quiet (and there are worse ways to end the weekend). The other benefit is that it's usually slow enough for us to go back into the kitchen to chat with Mike (aka Michael Tusk, the chef and Lindsay's husband). All of the horror stories that people are now associating with chefs thanks to reality TV, fly out the window when you meet Mike. He is so kind and soft-spoken and genuinely loves what he's doing. He takes the time to stop, talk with us, and doesn't ever once look rushed or like he'd rather the conversation end. We talk about the farmer's markets he's visiting, their adorable (but huge) dog Ruby, and his most recent media appearances (this time it was the Today Show). He is an amazing chef and I am so thrilled that we get to hang out with him so often.
4. The food - of course this is a hugely important part of any meal, but at Quince everything else is so fantastic (see 1-3 of this list) that the food could be mediocre and I'll still spend hundreds of dollars to eat there. Fortunately, the food isn't mediocre. It's fantastic. Especially the tasting menu which gives you a little bite of many, many wonderful things. I love it because you get two different pastas, and they are always my favorite thing on the menu.
Bottom line, if you're ever coming to San Francisco save up a little money and treat yourself to the tasting menu (with wine pairings) at Quince. You won't regret it. I'm am tearing up as I write this because we're heading back in May for the last time before our move to London. I can't imagine a month without Quince, Lindsay and Mike. It's going to be one of the hardest goodbyes we'll have... We love you Quince.
Rachel
Friday, March 23, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Back to my roots
Had an amazing dinner last night with one of my clients. We went to Evvia in Palo Alto (Greek food) and it was delicious. However, the best part was definitely the wine. And I needed it... (insert flashback here)
So I was pulling out of McLea Court where I work. It's a little alley that dumps you onto a one way street with a fair amount of traffic. There are cars parallel parked on that one way street, so you have to inch out to see around them. As I was inching and looking one way, a pedestrian was walking across the alley from the other way. The pedestrian preceded to freak out and accused me of trying to hit her. Keep in mind I couldn't have been going more than 1 mile an hour. Tops. So I kind of sheepishly wave and think the incident is pretty much over. Boy was I mistaken. This crazy lady kept screaming at me and then, icing on the cake, she started scraping her lighter over the hood of my car. At this point I'm pretty scared because she's standing directly in front of my car, blocking me from pulling out. She keeps screaming, I'm close to tears, wondering what she's going to do next. Break in? Thrown something? Pull out a weapon of some sort? Not really sure what my options are at this point (luckily I think better of rolling down the window to politely explain my position) so I just gun it. Pedal to the metal and gas it out of the alley. May or may not have run over her foot, but, in hindsight, that would have at least guaranteed that she couldn't run after me. Needless to say I feel completely accosted and am shaking/slash crying all the way down to Palo Alto (just ask Ric... he got a hysterical phone call from me as soon as I had cleared the danger zone).
I finally made it to dinner, 10 minutes late, and pull up next to my client's bright red Ferrari. The sad scrapes across the hood of my car looking even more sad in comparison. But the whole night turned around when he ordered a bottle of the Ornellaia 2001. I know this makes me sound very fancy, but I had actually never heard of this wine before. All I knew is that it was ordered off of the special reserve wine list that most people never even see. I also picked up a useful tip that all the best Italian wines end in "aia." File that one away for your next cocktail party... It really did live up to expectation. Opened up over dinner and was absolutely enjoyable. On the bigger side for Italians, which is generally my preference, and a lot of complexity.
The food was yummy as well. My favorite at these places, though, is always the plate of pita and dips you get as an appetizer.
Overall, my night ended up much better than it started out and I returned home escaping any bodily harm.
Phew.
(will be back later to write about the great dinner Ric and I had with my dad at Quince. If you know one thing about me, it's that I LOVE Quince.)
Rachel
So I was pulling out of McLea Court where I work. It's a little alley that dumps you onto a one way street with a fair amount of traffic. There are cars parallel parked on that one way street, so you have to inch out to see around them. As I was inching and looking one way, a pedestrian was walking across the alley from the other way. The pedestrian preceded to freak out and accused me of trying to hit her. Keep in mind I couldn't have been going more than 1 mile an hour. Tops. So I kind of sheepishly wave and think the incident is pretty much over. Boy was I mistaken. This crazy lady kept screaming at me and then, icing on the cake, she started scraping her lighter over the hood of my car. At this point I'm pretty scared because she's standing directly in front of my car, blocking me from pulling out. She keeps screaming, I'm close to tears, wondering what she's going to do next. Break in? Thrown something? Pull out a weapon of some sort? Not really sure what my options are at this point (luckily I think better of rolling down the window to politely explain my position) so I just gun it. Pedal to the metal and gas it out of the alley. May or may not have run over her foot, but, in hindsight, that would have at least guaranteed that she couldn't run after me. Needless to say I feel completely accosted and am shaking/slash crying all the way down to Palo Alto (just ask Ric... he got a hysterical phone call from me as soon as I had cleared the danger zone).
I finally made it to dinner, 10 minutes late, and pull up next to my client's bright red Ferrari. The sad scrapes across the hood of my car looking even more sad in comparison. But the whole night turned around when he ordered a bottle of the Ornellaia 2001. I know this makes me sound very fancy, but I had actually never heard of this wine before. All I knew is that it was ordered off of the special reserve wine list that most people never even see. I also picked up a useful tip that all the best Italian wines end in "aia." File that one away for your next cocktail party... It really did live up to expectation. Opened up over dinner and was absolutely enjoyable. On the bigger side for Italians, which is generally my preference, and a lot of complexity.
The food was yummy as well. My favorite at these places, though, is always the plate of pita and dips you get as an appetizer.
Overall, my night ended up much better than it started out and I returned home escaping any bodily harm.
Phew.
(will be back later to write about the great dinner Ric and I had with my dad at Quince. If you know one thing about me, it's that I LOVE Quince.)
Rachel
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Oh Lord
So I was having dinner with Ric and my dad tonight and one of them (although I won't say which because I know where my bills get paid) came up with the awesome idea that we (I) should start a blog. The reason is that we eat at a lot of nice places, we travel a lot, we do fun things, and we always have funny stories (and I read a lot of books, so I can write about that as well).
However, three or four bottles of wine later Ric and my dad are no longer on the same team (which would obviously be team bremer blog) and they are arguing with some sort of crazy abandon like the world depends on what conclusion they come to.
Is religion inherently bad? oh lord... I don't even want to enter that discussion. I would much rather talk about visiting Stubbs Vineyard this afternoon on our way back from Point Reyes Station. We went up to get fresh crab and shrimp (which was awesome) and then kept driving to Stubbs. We had tasted that wine at Quince during one of our many fun dinners at the neighborhood spots, so we wanted to see it up close and personal.
After driving for hours on the windy country roads with nothing but cows, llama and goats we pull into a dirt road that leads to a driveway and 10 minutes later we're tasting wine with Mary Stubbs.
The Chardonnay was OK. Better than most California Chards because I don't really like buttery and oaky. However, our next taste was a Merlot that needed some work. It had another 2-3 months in the barrel, but still.... I can't imagine it being very good. The pino was ok. Ric and dad really like it. Enough that we bought 5 bottles. Meanwhile, Mary and her family are getting ready for a "formal" aka a kids school recital.
Pretty fun, but a lot of driving. I have to get back to the boys now and stop their fighting. It's a little ridiculous considering they're both Leos. Anyway...ciao to all our potential blog audience members out there. We love you.
Rachel
However, three or four bottles of wine later Ric and my dad are no longer on the same team (which would obviously be team bremer blog) and they are arguing with some sort of crazy abandon like the world depends on what conclusion they come to.
Is religion inherently bad? oh lord... I don't even want to enter that discussion. I would much rather talk about visiting Stubbs Vineyard this afternoon on our way back from Point Reyes Station. We went up to get fresh crab and shrimp (which was awesome) and then kept driving to Stubbs. We had tasted that wine at Quince during one of our many fun dinners at the neighborhood spots, so we wanted to see it up close and personal.
After driving for hours on the windy country roads with nothing but cows, llama and goats we pull into a dirt road that leads to a driveway and 10 minutes later we're tasting wine with Mary Stubbs.
The Chardonnay was OK. Better than most California Chards because I don't really like buttery and oaky. However, our next taste was a Merlot that needed some work. It had another 2-3 months in the barrel, but still.... I can't imagine it being very good. The pino was ok. Ric and dad really like it. Enough that we bought 5 bottles. Meanwhile, Mary and her family are getting ready for a "formal" aka a kids school recital.
Pretty fun, but a lot of driving. I have to get back to the boys now and stop their fighting. It's a little ridiculous considering they're both Leos. Anyway...ciao to all our potential blog audience members out there. We love you.
Rachel
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