Genova Deli in Temescal: arrivederci!

Genova Delicatessen opened its doors in the Temescal Neighborhood of North Oakland in 1926. Pictured above: their steam table offerings including several varieties of their renowned ravioli, and according to acclaim, one of the Bay Area's best versions of lasagna.

Here's what the place looks like now from the parking lot. The old, much more soulful location was across the street. Anyway, they're open here through Saturday. Pretty sure their Napa store will stay open.

Typical crowd, about 50 people. Though, according to their numbering system, more like 170 people in  front of me.

This place besides serving great hot food and Italian sandwiches has stuff like superb imported cheese, salt-cured anchovies and arborio rice. Which I bought, eventually.

At first I didn't think it would take that long, and, indeed most folks left after taking a number. I waited nearly two hours. But it was worth it, soaking in the vibe, listening to countless locals, some as old as Genova Deli itself, wax nostalgic. A bunch of us were clustered around photos of the old place. "I remember that guy!" and "they always made their own sausages, see them hanging?" and "these local places have soul and you can't replace that--the people that own the land, they don't live here, as in they live in some other country--they're just making rent money."

At last, the nice young woman was making our sandwiches! Note the cheese in foreground. Should have gotten some Parm.

Robin's sandwich: Roast Beef on Sourdough with Horseradish. Too much of the latter according to her. Took her a while to finish it.

Mine was the #9 Specialty Sandwich, the Genova Salami, with Salami, Prosciutto, Mortadello, Provolone, sauteed bell peppers & eggplant, & oil & vinegar on ciabatta.

Magnifico.

Hornbill Burmese Cuisine in El Sobrante

Tea Leaf Salad. I've only been to five Burmese restaurants in my life, but so far, every version I've had of this dish is noticeably different from all the others, and is always the best dish. The presentation was fantastic, but I didn't have a chance to take a snapshot, as the waiter began mixing it before our eyes, something that's a piece of theatre at the more upscale Burmese restaurants in the Bay Area, which this one definitely is not (even though the prices are about the same).

Still, utterly delicious and complex. Before we were about to order the waiter asked if we'd ever had Burmese cuisine or been to Hornbill before. Yes and no. From there followed a series of remarks, asides and questions that led me to reason that their clientele were likely to be the sort of people who order Sweet And Sour Chicken or General Tso's Pork, but worry about the MSG, and think that Taco Bell might be too spicy for them.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew what was in Tea Leaf Salad so you don't send it back," he remarked. Very complex version of the dish. Not sure I remember a version using Romaine lettuce. Or Iceberg, as Robin suggested.

Here was a dish that was supposed to be the Lamb Kebat, but brought to our table by mistake.

At left: Coconut Rice, which was divine perfection. At right, Burmese Vegetables Curry. Had no idea this was supposed to be a hot soup. And where was the "curry?" I tasted very little spice indeed. Quite bland. I remember at one point during ordering the waiter saying their food can be at any level of spice. But I don't remember specifying what level. I'm guessing he assumed we wanted very bland. Robin and I are already at the age of getting AARP brochures in the mail, and there was maybe one other couple younger than us in the restaurant, so my guess is he assumed we wanted bland food as is the norm with Old School Bay Area patrons. Judging from the first half dozen times I ate Thai cuisine in the Bay Area, I was convinced that spicy food did not exist here for the longest time. Guess there's still some holdouts.

OK, they finally brought us our Lamb Kebat. Today I'm wondering if the waiter assumed we wanted two orders. The mood was a little frantic, but they were trying hard. I think all the irregularities has to do with their audience. Also, I'm doubting they have a chef who is that experienced with Burmese cuisine.  The lamb was nice and tender, and the sauce was ok (again, much blander than I expected--I could not taste the masala). But looking at this dish, the way the meat is cut, the way the onions are cut, tomatoes, jalapenos--I couldn't help but think it looks like Fajitas. Pretty common for the BOH folks to hail from Central America, and I've seen that in many Asian kitchens. The bizarre Thai place we went to in Santa Cruz, remember that? Where I could hear one of the Thai hosts explaining how to cook a dish in broken Spanish while waiting for the restroom next door to the kitchen? You can see it in the way the meat and vegetables are cut, then way things are spiced. That's not to say the food's no good if not 100% authentic, but what it is saying is they are a long ways away from the rigor and panache of a Sue's Kitchen (El Sobrante), China Village (Albany), or Burma Superstar (Temescal, Oakland).

Pho Huong Viet in Vallejo

Grilled pork vermicelli. Best dish I've had here.

Pad Thai with shrimp & tofu.

We enjoyed Pho Huong Viet so much, we decided to check it out again.

This is the #30, Rice Noodle with Wontons, sliced pork and baby bok choy.

Soulful broth, deep chicken flavor. I place a wonton, pork slice & bok choy on top for you to see.

The #78, Grilled Chicken & Vietnamese Fried Egg Roll on top of vermicelli.

There's the sauce to the left. Below the vermicelli were lots of vegetables, mainly lettuce and cucumber.

Could this be the new Gold Standard for Vietnamese cuisine in Vallejo? I think so.

Sited in the strip mall just this side of the northernmost reaches of Vallejo on Hwy 29, Pho Huong Viet just opened up last month. A brand new Island Pacific grocery opened nearby in this same strip mall. 

We made our selections, and they brought out soup, water, and condiments.

Robin ordered this cubed beef house specialty.

She says the beef was extremely tender and flavorful, probably ribeye.

Here's mine: grilled pork chop, shrimp fingers and egg sunnyside up. You can see I was readying the roasted chile oil.

Blammo, with the roasted chiles! A few minutes later my face was all red and sweaty.

Outstanding version of the dish. The pork was nice and tender, grilled perfectly. Shrimp fingers crisped up on the outside, luscious inside. Side vegetables crisp and fresh. We'll be coming back to this place, clearly a family place.

Paella: Scallops, Shrimp & Cod

I've been making variations on Paella ever since my old friend John Sutterby introduced me to the dish at a dinner party in the mid-90s. Then a few years later I had the best version I've ever had, in Granada, Espana. Right around then, other friends introduced me to Risotto, and ever since, I've been doing versions that blend both dishes. Mostly I use seafood, but sausage works well in tandem with seafood, particularly Spanish chorizo. This version features scallops, shrimp & cod: any sort of shellfish works great. We got some good deals recently on frozen seafood which was the inspiration for this.

Robin's got a Paella pan that's pretty big, but I've found I like to make a big enough batch to have a decent amount of leftovers. So, lately, I've sauteed the vegetables first then started the rice separately. In this case, I cooked half a large yellow onion and most of the greens of two leeks, cut into centimeter sized pieces, in some light oil, then added pieces from a red bell pepper, and slices of green beans. I should have bought some asparagus since it's in season here now. Cook until there's a bit of a char on them, fairly tender, but not hammered.

I keep a Black Truffle in Arborio Rice in a glass jar in the fridge. Once I've cleared the pan of the cooked vegetables, I add more oil to the pan, then a whole bunch of Arborio Rice (probably 2-3 cups), and let it saute in the oil, occasionally stirring for even coverage & to keep from sticking. I learned these rice techniques from making Risotto. 

Sometimes I laugh at all the times some hotshot chef tried to tell me about the "proper" or "right" way to make rice. (Which, in turn, makes me think of all the "correct" ways to make enchiladas) When it comes to Risotto, you'll want to saute the dry rice in oil for a few minutes first, making sure all of it gets cooked enough so the grains are translucent. 

Now, you're ready to start adding some sort of rich stock. Earlier this week, Robin made some stock using organic chicken. Really, really nice stock it is, lemme tell you--the rich flavor and texture of the final result speaks for itself. Take the time to make real stock, including bones. Those bullion cubes suck--most pre-made stocks are over-salted. You might as well buy a bucket of KFC and chop it up. Nothing works as well as real homemade stock. Escoffier talks about this subject at length, because all the Mother Sauces start with good stock made from bones of high quality animals.

OK, so back to the rice: once translucent, ladle enough stock on top to cover the rice, then stir and stir. Repeat. Repeat.

After the first ladle or two, add a finely minced salt-cured anchovy. Here's one from a can that I bought a year ago from Genova Deli in Temescal. I bet Ed Ward's used all of his by now.

Ahead of time, I put a generous pinch of Persian Saffron in some water to hydrate, and zested half a Meyer Lemon I picked from our tree (using the juice later to squeeze over the fish). You'll wanna add these ingredients about halfway through the ladling of stock into the rice.

When the rice has just about absorbed most of stock that it can, that's when you'll wanna add the fish, and ladle that last bit of stock over the top, maybe some olive oil too as a blessing. I usually cover the pan to steam the fish. You don't want it overcooked though. Keep an eye on it. 

Serve the rice, with sauteed vegetables on top. Note that I've sprinkled some Smoked Paprika on top. Some folks like to add sliced almonds on top as well.

Pollo Con Mole, Avocado, Calabaza, y Tortillas de Maiz

Chicken Mole, using the best quality chicken we could find (Rocky's Free Range, local product, on sale), Mole partially from a Oaxaca style mix & part of it from rehydrated chiles (ancho, arbol & chipote), garlic, sauteed onion, chicken fat, and a little bit of Spanish chorizo.

Tortillas (Maiz) made from scratch, yellow squash with Mexican oregano. 

Sipping some 100% Agave Reposado and listening to La Pistola Y El Corazon. Really pays off to do things right.

David Murray at Vino Godfather in Vallejo

Tonight's David Murray show was presented by Jazz Remedy. Props to them for getting it together, and happy to hear this show sold out.

First I wanted to share some photos of the setting, which seems to be an Admiral's house on Mare Island.

The scene in the Tasting Room before the show. That's David Murray himself chatting with family & friends on the left, wearing a hat, facing the camera.

Robin and I had incredible seats, right up front and center. I could have knocked the bass drum down from where I sat.

Even though we were so close it wasn't too loud. Drums weren't mic'ed, Murray barely used the PA, and the guitar players were nowhere near turning it up to eleven. More like 3 or 4. The vibe was like a casual performance in a living room, which it pretty much was. Casual, relaxed, but tight and intense.

Guest drummer on Murray's classic "Bahia."

The young man playing the white strat is David Murray's son, Mingus Murray. Pretty sure the other young guitarist is related to the bass player and drummer. Couldn't understand their names when Murray announced them. Killer, tight young musicians. Mingus Murray reminds me of Sonny Sharrock.

First Set: Morning Song, OB, Bahia, and a slow blues jam which essentially was "Stormy Monday."

Here's the regular drummer. Awesome player. 

They started off the second set with "Mirror Of You."

David Murray riffing on his bass clarinet to "Amazing Grace." The second set also included a definitive version of "Body & Soul" and the closer, an incendiary reading of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow." 

I felt sorry for the people who left early.