Food. Glorious food!

Sickness be damned, I did it!

There nights, three venerable dining institutions. I came (i.e., found them! using google maps! I have conquered San Francisco!), I ate (not always a lot, but enough to get an idea...), and now, I blog. So, the rundown:

First up, Fleur de Lys. I wanted to eat here because the restaurant is the favored old stomping ground of a food friend that I trust, and I'd actually sampled the chef's food before, at a tasting event, and wanted to try more. I came straight from the airport (and my on-time arrival!!) and got a parking spot (after circling the block a few times, but it was completely worth it) right in front of the restaurant. The parallel parking job wasn't the greatest and my several attempts apparently provided rich entertainment fodder for several boys standing on the sidewalk, but it was so close that the valet attendants gave me the evil eye (they shamefacedly looked away when they realized that I was actually coming into their restaurant). An offering by the food gods that I made the right choice!

The food? Well, see here to understand why I wasn't particularly hungry, and couple that with the late hour (6 PM West coast is ordinarily dinnertime, but after a day of travel my appetite, as well as all other aspects of me, are always more than slightly depressed), and you get a meal planned sans entree. I sat at the bar and was royally entertained by the cheerfully snooty staff (except the genuinely cheerful bartender), got the foie gras appetizer and cheesecake dessert, and was more than satisfied. Probably not hurt by the fact that I also had two amuse bouches, and 2 complimentary house dessert trays. If I had known about the extras, I would've have skipped dessert and gotten an entree...maybe...The interior made me think Cirque du Soleil on Valentine's crack - all lush, opulent red velvets and gilt mirrors and a tentlike center drapery - beautiful - but slightly sinister. A great start, all in all. The presentation and composition of the plates were far more whimsical than I'd expected from an institutionally French restaurant - lots of swirls and gelees and sugar garnished and a cute bread oven to house my foie gras stew. Maybe a change since he opened the place in Vegas?

The next day, I drove into Berkeley to worship at the original temple of Alice Waters. I wanted to see where it all began and experience Chez Panisse in person. This was the only restaurant where I'd made a reservation, because I wasn't sure there was bar space to just walk up to. It felt a little weird, sitting by myself in the closely quartered, cozy upstairs cafe, but it was fun watching all the couples and friends though the golden haze of the lamplight and wine. I can't remember the last time I ordered a completely vegetarian entree, if ever, but the grilled polenta cake with the stewed spring/summer vegetables (pretty much the epitome of I am a vegetarian entree, hear me roar!!) actually sounded the best of the choices - already a new experience! There was a lovely goat cheese-and-astringent-greens salad and a luscious fruit cobbler (bursting with peaches and blue/black/raspberries) - everything was good, and the entree was verging (asymptotically) on great. Still, I left with a cold feeling towards the meal. Perhaps it was my constant cough, or the aloneness of solo dining, the competent but non-attentive (solo dining, again) service, the spartan woodsy (which, ordinarily I like quite a lot, but again, didn't love it here) decor, or maybe the food - hard to pinpoint. Maybe I should have tried the formal dining room downstairs. While I liked everything I ate, I wasn't raring to come back and try everything else. Still, I'm glad that I went, if only to satisfy my curiousity.

Day three in dining adventures seemed to start poorly. I ran into a lot of traffic entering the City, and then couldn't find a parking space. Finally, I gave up and used the general pier parking, which turned out to be just a few blocks away. There were still a few seats left at the bar, so I didn't have to wait as I'd feared. I could see right away that Restaurant Gary Danko is my favorite kind of fine dining - Modern American/Continental, great attention to luxuriously clean decoration (smooth stone, soaring glass, dark, gleaming wood, and water trickling in the background somewhere) - with many delicious dishes to choose for every course (none of the 2-3 per nonsense, of which I might only like the sound of 1 or at best, 2 options), and well-dressed, gracious, and gregarious servicefolk. The whole experience left me feeling taken care of, that people were really interested in how I was enjoying my meal (which they'd helped me pick), and much attention was paid to the pacing, presentation, and preparation of my selections. I went with an appetizer and an entree this time - the bass the light yet meaty, with an amazingly crisp seared skin, and my two quails were stuffed with a hearty fall-hearkening concoction - grain, foie gras, pork, mushrooms (some of my favorites!!!) - but served over a summery broth (corn, peppers) that kept the dish rich, but note-perfect for the season. I was also served a couple of amuses and a plate of adorable petit fours that was more than enough for dessert for one. An A+ experience (and since I still had a rather viciously hacking cough, the impression wasn't due to lessening of my sickness) all around, and I can't wait to get back. (Even off per diem!) After all of that, I still had enough energy to mozy down to the Ghirardelli factory store on the waterfront on the long way back to my car. I got my free square (peanut butter-filled), inhaled the waffle cone baking scents, walked along the waterfront for a bit, and then drove leisurely back to my hotel. A blissful night altogether!!!!