Review - Nob Hill Cafe

A craving for pasta and a fiance out rock climbing turned my feet to Nob Hill Cafe on a windy Tuesday evening. It's a neighbourhood institution that's hard to walk past; often bustling with an interesting mixture of visitors and regulars, their heads bowed happily over bowls of pasta or seasonal pizzas. The scents of garlic and Parmesan, inevitably, follow you for half a block if you have the strength - or an already full stomach - to keep walking.

This time around, I ordered the Insalata Caprese for my starter, followed up with the Spaghetti alla Carbonara. I was sad to see that the Cafe hadn't quite finished baking their in-house foccacia when my bread basket arrived, as historically, the basket contains a blend of crusty sourdough and herbed foccacia (the latter of which is one of my favorite breads found to date in SF), but I was dining earlier in the evening, and the sourdough was perfect for dipping in the vinaigrette served with my Caprese.

The Caprese turned out to be more elaborate than the menu indicates; beyond the traditional basil, fresh mozzarella, and tomatoes, the dish was served over baby greens with thinly sliced red onions and an admirable quantity of olives, topped by a balsamic vinaigrette. At times, the vinaigrette cloaked the fresh flavours of the cheese and tomato, so I wouldn't recommend the salad for Caprese purists, but it remained an enjoyable start to my meal.

I have a guilty not-quite-secret; when it comes to pasta, I tend to lean towards the unconventional or the elaborate. NHC's Carbonara is a delicious reminder that sometimes, classic dishes keep their popularity for good reason. It arrived at my table piping hot, in a bowl with tall sides (the better for swirling and mixing in the fresh ground pepper and Parmesan; key ingredients, my server and I agreed, for making this dish an ultimate comfort food.) From the texture of the noodles to the creamy sauce highlighted by garlic and pancetta, the Carbonara was easy to love. It's a rich, filling dish, so I packed some away for my lunch, and thanked the staff for taking good care of me. 

I find it telling how restaurants treat solitary diners, and am happy to report that NHC is a solid choice, whether you're on your own, in a pair, or in a larger group. That said, it's a popular place, and they do not take reservations, so would recommend coming early or later for dinner if you have a large group.

Salute!

Wandering: Boccalone Salumeria

Boccalone sells, as it says above the door, "tasty salted pig parts" - which may be enough to convince you to visit in and of itself! It definitely piqued my curiosity, but moreover, whether stopping by for a fantastic sandwich (the Mess Piggy and Italian sausage are favorites) or picking up ingredients, their team is always welcoming and helpful, so I've been loyally returning every couple of weeks to their storefront in the Ferry Building to try something new.

The refridgerated wall of in-house salumi can be daunting, but every time I've visited, one of the staff have been able to answer all of my questions and suggest recipe ideas to match each of their products. It's dangerous shopping to do on an empty stomach (I never leave empty-handed), but for the opportunity to learn about and try delicious treats like guanciale and nduja, it's worth it.

Guanciale, I learned, has been largely usurped by pancetta or bacon in carbonara pastas, but was the original cut of meat paired with that dish.  I've always steered away from making carbonara, a little nervous that the raw egg in the sauce wouldn't cook well enough when mixed with the cooked noodles, but am happy to report that my first foray was successful.  Conversely, the nduja, a soft, cured salami was crumbled on to a homemade pizza at the last minute to great effect. My only caution (as I learned two nights later when making pasta) is that a little nduja goes a long way! Its flavour is intense, and can overwhelm other elements in the dish if too much is used.

Review: Ennio's Pasta House (on King)

The Italian Soda cocktail at Ennio's Pasta House is a little like summer filtered into a glass. Not late summer, like what has found us now: cooler nights, turning leaves, and inescapable heat during the day, but the peak of summertime with its bright hue and Limoncello fizz - and the kick that surprises you when you rise to your feet; that, too.

Yum.

Thinking about seasons turns me maudlin and metaphorical (there's lengthy proof of that in my other blog) but then, the patio at Ennio's is a good place to reflect. It's a little noisy, what with facing King Street between University and Weber, but the high walls and central fireplace make it a comfortable space. I'd love to return and curl up on the couches that surround the fireplace, but was craving pasta, which is tricky to manage gracefully in slouchy chairs!

Instead, we headed for one of the patio tables; M snagged a glass of the Wolf Blass Cabernet Sauvignon and threatened playfully that he'd steal my Soda (but didn't carry through, which was wise; it'd be a long walk home!)

My pasta came with a starter house salad, which I shared with M; as house salads go, its blend of iceberg and redleaf lettuces, cucumber, and a ribbon of carrot didn't seem very exciting (though the marinated rings of red onion were a piquant, nostalgic touch) but everything was very fresh and the Italian dressing served with it tasted homemade. Also, for a starter salad, it was large - and, once the two wholegrain buns and olive oil/basil pesto dipping tray arrived for us to nibble on, I knew I'd be bringing leftovers home.

In a list of things Taryn Likes Best, leftovers hit the top thirty, safe.

M ordered the Michelangelo pizza, and happily noted that Ennio's offers a whole wheat crust. I, on the other hand, smiled at his healthy choice and ordered a new addition to the menu: scallops, roasted red peppers, and asparagus in a saffron cream sauce with a "hint of citrus" over linguine was calling my name. It's a lot of flavours to fit together; it was the first pasta dish I've seen served with a lemon wedge in a very long time as well, but the lemon worked, tying flavours together. Very decadent.

The pizza (roasted chicken, mushrooms, and fresh basil, with a tomato base; there were either roasted red peppers or sundried tomatoes as well, but my memory is failing me and a couple of Google searches have not yielded the menu) was met with a grin. The pizza is generous - M usually finishes single-serving pizzas and then is hungry two hours later, but he left a couple of pieces for a late-night snack.

Our friendly server asked about coffee or dessert, but we declined, taking our leftovers homewards. Ennio's is one of those places that everyone knows about, and somehow feels like it; stories and lives, like some kinds of pasta, are made to be tangled up together (and for an evening, it was fun to be part of the mix.)