Taster Spoon

Thanksgiving Round-Up

Over the past couple of weeks, it's been starting to feel increasingly holidayish, what with the summer weather that held on so long going away and the dark, rainy days arriving for their annual five-month visit. 

A little bit has been going on since last we checked in:

Rad's birthday happened while he was away competing at Clearwater, so for the first Run Club after his return, Ace made a cake!  Angel food!  I was surprised that we had an angel food cake pan.  I was also surprised when he asked whether we had any sprinkles.  We did, but usually he avoids sprinkles (on his Cold Stone hot fudge sundae, for instance) because they are just "empty calories." 

Cafe Sophia, that Afghan place on Middlefield, is fantastic.  The food is unbelievably flavorful and there is a fine vegetarian selection.  The "Chef's Choice" mixed plates are good.

We've hosted and attended a couple of Game Nights, or nights where games were played.  I'm still learning how to match games with crowds.  You can't just play anything with anyone.  For instance, Celebrity is no good with more than about a dozen people, and it works best with a crowd of at least overlapping interests.  The Werewolves of Miller's Hollow requires attentiveness by all, but is enjoyable, if quiet.  It's reminiscent of that "7 up" game we used to play when we had a substitute teacher. 

Apples to Apples tends to be popular, but I find it mostly random and therefore not satisfying.  It's a good ice-breaker, however, because it takes zero skill, and helps to knock the competitiveness out of the evening.  I still haven't formed a complete opinion of Cranium, though my initial impression is that it's too easy to be all that fun.  At least, it's better with more than two teams.  And the Zombies! game, we haven't even played it because the instruction booklet is about thirty pages.  Puerto Rico gets rave Customer Reviews, but it's not a game you can play casually or while drinking.  Why Did the Chicken must especially be played while drinking.  Taboo remains a classic.

Hey!  Did you even see my Halloween costume? 

 

I've kind of bailed on my holiday crafting.  This will doubtless come as a surprise to Ace, given all the supplies in the closet.  Stuff just wasn't turning out very nice.  But I'm learning a couple of new crafty skills, which I'll show you in a little while, i.e. as soon as I make something not ugly.

My brother returned from Iraq!  Say it with me: "Phew."

For Thanksgiving Ace and I both went to Chicago, where half of his family lives and where my parents just moved after calling it quits on seventeen years in Singapore.  We both went to both of our families' Thanksgivings and it worked out actually a lot more smoothly than I expected. 

It was a chemically-fueled weekend, tea and coffee in the morning and always, always cocktails, wine and port in the evenings.  Instead of my usual attempts to keep the system clean, I gave in and went with what was on offer, and have learned that there is some wisdom in these habits.  They go a long way towards keeping everyone's attitude (including my own) manageable. 

On Sunday I rolled my stimulants and sedatives into one by having two Irish Coffees at Butch McGuire's, after which Ace and I avoided the sleet by hiding out at the Art Institute. 

I think Ace wishes he had spotted the architectural drawings sooner, and I wished I had discovered the "touch museum" sooner. 

 

I also got to see one of my dearest friends and her kid who is a laugh riot.  (And I am not one to fawn over people's kids.)  She probably won me over when, speaking to her mother, she called me "that girl."   Sure beats "that old lady." 

Another lesson from the weekend: direct flights are totally worth it.

Ace and I have been frugalizing by refusing to turn on the heat, so our house has been at a steady 61 degrees for the last month.  I thought he was merely humoring my cheapness, but he revealed that he was kind of making a personal character exercise out of not turning on the heat until at least Thanksgiving.  We got up at 2:30 a.m. California time to fly back yesterday and go straight in to work, so in the evening when he finally made it home, I made sure there was hot vegetable soup (to counteract nearly a week of midwestern meat, cheese and white flour) and a roaring fire.  And when he climbed in to bed, a hot water bottle.  That went over big. 

Our savings on heat will probably be balanced by our electricity bill: SOMEONE left the freezer door ajar for the five days we were away.  

What's new?

I dunno, what's new with you?

An old friend e-mailed this morning, asking what I've been up to, and I was about to wave him towards the blog - "Oh, it's all on there if you really want to know" - and then I remembered that weak post below about the lady with the sign has been floating there for more than two weeks now.   Really, that's the best I can do?  So then I had to actually write up a real reply.  Heaven forbid that I should actually correspond!

So what is new?  Ooh, lots of things.  None captured on film, unfortunately.

I've been getting into Fall in a big way.  The ladies at my firm had a leadership networky thing up in Napa a couple of weeks ago, and traffic was bad on the return, so I stopped off at a farm stand and bought fifteen pumpkins and some candy corn.  I had plans to carve, but the opportunity keeps slipping away, so I think I'll wait and we can do them right before Halloween.

Martha Stewart's October issue had the most hideous pumpkin I've ever seen, so I want to do one like that.  (These look beautiful for a dinner party, no?)

We decided to spend Halloween at home this year, to see what kind of neighborhood candy beggars we get.  I was inspired by this local house (which I very much want to visit), and want to do it up right with some tombstones in the yard or something.  As you are well aware, we don't have a great entryway, but perhaps the dishevelledness will add to the ambiance.  I picked up some spiderwebs yesterday.  (If you'd like to join us for H-Day, drop me a line!  There will be games and spooky foods!) 

I don't think we're dressing up this year, I usually like to go as something scary, but I'm sure there will be enough Sarah Palins already (cheap shot!) and am not sure how to dress up as a deficit.

I have big plans to make crafty Christmas presents this fall. 

My family made a pact last year that we would no longer exchange gifts but would instead contribute to a charity, and I can't tell you how pleased I am.  On a deep level it seems more satisfyingly in line with the virtues of the holiday, but on a superficial level, my family is notoriously bad - all of us - at gift selection.  We don't even remember each other's birthdays.  I don't mean we fail to send something (which is also true), I mean we forget when they are, usually until after they've passed. 

So anyway my family is covered, and I don't feel obligated to wrap up anything for anyone else, but I have some keen ideas in my head for a couple of friends.  I've been feeling compelled to be more creative in my downtime, and by calling things "presents" I'll feel less like I'm just wasting time.  They may end up too ugly to actually send, but will keep my fingers busy while I watch Pushing Daisies and consider folding false eyelashes into my own makeup routine.

The Fleet Week air show last weekend was exceptional as always.  For the first time we actually walked all the way over to Marina Green and listened to the narration over loudspeakers - it was a nice supplement to the show.  I teared up at one point, those things can be really moving.  Ace and I then went for a run over the bridge, from which we caught a rare San Francisco sunset that was unobscured by fog or anything.  My favorite part of it is always when the sinking light reflects off the buildings in Berkeley.  They sparkle and glow orange, like flakes of gold in a pan of mud.  How California!  Then we joined Scooter and Wendy B in front of the fireplace at the Cliff House (where I had never been - very romantic) for a drink, after which we all trooped over to New Eritrea for Ethiopian food.  (Note to VU: their Shiro doesn't hold a candle to that place in Morningside Heights.)  It was a great day in the city.

I quit my Japanese class.  I hope my teacher doesn't take it personally.  I like her a lot - both as a teacher, and as a person - she's really interesting and very entertaining.  But I found myself leaving my homework till the last minute, and scrambling to coast through the class, and feeling bad that I was wasting my time and hers.  Since it's purely a personal pursuit, it finally felt strange to spend $25 a week to feel bad about myself.  She was really understanding.  And I really hope to pick it up again, perhaps after the holidays are over.  It feels nice to focus on something that has nothing to do with your current life every now and again.

I also stopped going to ballet.  Similar reason - I just felt like such an inflexible klutz.  I still want to be a dancer someday, so I'll stretch and maybe find a community-level ballet class to ease myself in before going back. 

But we are thinking of taking the next step in sailing.  Our last class qualified us to take out a boat anywhere - that is, anywhere except the San Francisco Bay.  This next class will make us universally certified.  It's a pain in the butt to get to, honestly, more than an hour drive at the crack of dawn, and takes the whole weekend.  Also, it's a pain to schedule, because classes fill up way in advance - and then cancellation requires eight days' notice.  So we've scheduled and cancelled this class at least four times.  It's very frustrating.  Part of us wants to just get it done (it's $60/month for each of us just to keep our memberships in the club), and part of us is concerned that blocking off entire weekends through this holiday season is going to be rough.

Well, that's the news.  We really should keep in better touch.  We should have coffee sometime!  Oh, I don't know.  Why don't you call me.

Food Kicks I Have Known

I've failed.  My local food campaign is a failure.  I'm a failure.

See, the problem with not setting out stringent guidelines at the outset is, it's too easy to let convenience outweigh your underlying purpose.  (What was the purpose, again?)

• Visiting Monterey, Ace and Victor and Rad took me to a splendid fish restaurant for my birthday, where it never crossed my mind to inquire the source of what we were eating.  (The restaurant's whole angle was sustainable seafood, so maybe that part of my conscience was soothed, distracting me from this "local" biz.)  We joined V and R for wine and cheese at their hotel, and stayed on for more wine even after V and R went to Pebble Beach for dinner, after striking up a conversation with the lovely Wendy and Matt. 
• Because of our extended trip to Monterey, we missed the Mountain View farmers' market, and I resorted all week to vegetables from the Milk Pail.  Unmarked eggplants, spinach of origin unknown.
• This week I traveled to Irvine for work, and, let me tell you, there was little local anything to be had.  Or at least, there was little choice in the matter.  I ate the biscotti that was handed to me, you know?  On the plane I had honey roasted peanuts from Virginia, and water that came from a can.

The problem, alternatively, is that you convince yourself that only the highest bar applies to you (what would that ideal be, exactly, growing my own produce and chickens, having my own Turkey Hill?) and then feel like a complete failure when, in fact, you can mark a number of successes.

• Instead of hitting Starbucks the morning of Ace's race in Pacific Grove, I ducked into Toasties, a country-decor drenched local diner where I chatted with waitress and the only other customer about the wildfires and spraying for moths.  You know how I know they kept it real?   They didn't have mochas or lattes or anything.  I got a cup of coffee and a glass of skim milk, OG style.
• Wendy and Matt's daughter colored for Ace and me each a picture with crayons.  We thought we were just drinking; in fact we were supporting local artists.  The next morning Ace and I dropped by a local artist gallery exhibition with the thought we might hang something featuring sea-spray over our fireplace.  (Out of our budget.)
• Rather than relying on the chain hotel we stayed at before the race, we made a last minute decision to sack out at the Beachcomber Inn, a local motel that offered waffle batter and a griddle in the morning, videotapes for borrowing, bikes with which we could pedal down and up beautiful 17 mile drive on Sunday morning, and a friendly innkeeper who did her laundry out back as we sat on the deck, and who whispered up to us, "Pssst!  Look!  Deer!" as they traipsed across the yard.
• Among the unmarked vegetables and fruits I picked up at the Milk Pail, I found eggs from Sonoma and really fat, soft English Muffins baked in Berkeley.  I took a picture of my local breakfast (which included a morning shake of cold watermelon, half a pear and home-grown mint - mmm) and will post it as soon as I remember to get it off of Ace's camera.
• On my way to Irvine, despite eating the airplane peanuts, I also packed a salad of mixed greens and several red tomatoes home-grown by Tracy, the award winning green thumb I keep mentioning.
• For dinner, my colleague and I went to a fish restaurant whose menu was printed daily (to emphasize that everything was fresh) and I made a point of inquiring whether anything was "local."  Seriously, only one item on the menu noted "California."  But I got it (Sea Bass) and it was delicious.
• Though we breakfasted at the hotel's cafe, as I was inspecting the prepackaged cereals, the chef I'd met the day before wandered by and urged me to try his homemade granola instead.  He was right - not only was it really good (cinnamony), it kept me full until about 2 pm, as the Raisin Bran never would have.
• Yesterday, after we finished up our work, I investigated the farmers markets in the Irvine area and was impressed to see that there was one, in varying locations, every day of the week.  But I had missed the Thursday one by an hour. 
• I talked with a young woman who'd helped us out with our work, and she recommended a vegan place not far away - in a yurt! - and after googling around I went one better, and found a raw restaurant next to her recommendation called 118 (i.e. alluding to their top temperature).  I went on a raw food kick for a couple of weeks a few years ago - I still remember my lovely L.A. ladies indulging me so generously for my birthday.  I went there for lunch, and it was delicious, and beautiful, and thoroughly stuffing.  (I didn't take pictures, though I really wanted to, because I was one of only two customers and would have felt foolish.)  I got leftovers to go, but have to say, with the raw food, it was kind of much to have that much in a day.  I think they relied pretty heavily on nut butters, because it was all really rich.  Also, I think raw garlic gets overpowering after a while.  (However, I did have my leftovers today for lunch and everything was still really good.)  Anyway, I confess that I didn't inquire whether the food was local.  For one, it seemed like, if you were picky enough to be choosing a raw, vegan, gluten-free restaurant, it seem a little excessive to specify a whole lot further.  For two, it seemed to be kind of a lifestyle place anyway, such that I strongly suspect ingredients were chosen with, let's say, conscience.

So while it's been easy to break or bend rules that I have yet to set for myself, I can say that this local thing has at least held my attention for the past week. 

I suppose for the second two weeks of September, it would behoove me to pick myself some guidelines.  But at least they will be informed by realistic expectations now.   

Wowee...Zowie...Maui!

A quick photo recap of our trip to Maui for the Nissan Xterra World Championship, in which Ace was competing Sunday.  I'll cover the race in another post. 

I've only been to Hawaii a couple of times (not counting the time I was supposedly there as an infant, because you couldn't yet fly non-stop from the U.S. to Hong Kong - THAT's how old I am): to Kauai  with my family for Christmas one year, and to Kona (Big Island) with Ace for the Ironman last year.  Like most places do, Hawaii grows on me a little more each time I go - this was my favorite island yet! 

Maui greets you as you leave the airport with beautiful sights. 

This is a recycling plant or something just off the highway between the airport and Kihei, where we stayed.  Indeed, there was a fine black dust on everything, throughout our condo and everywhere.   I don't know whether it was from this, or from sugar companies burning cane - there was an apologetic article in the paper discussing cane burning plans.  Not great, but on the other hand I really don't know how long I could survive without sugar.

The cane fields themselves were beautiful.   

This is the other view from the airport.

We stayed at the Luana Kai condo rentals.  It was great.  Q bed and a Q pullout couch.  Kitchen.  Shower was small, and the whole place needed a serious dusting, but we weren't there to stare at the dust.  We were there to look out the windows - and the view was fantastic. 

Never got in the pool more than knee deep, but it was warm, and the hot tub was noisily appropriated and littered by people who were not resident at the Luana Kai. 

But I include negative notes only to help choosy future travelers.   I had a wonderful time, and thought the place suited our needs extremely well.  There's no maid service, you're on your own, but frankly on vacation I like to be able to put things where you want them and leave them there. 

And I loved having a washer/dryer and a kitchen right there, though we didn't use any of them.   They'll give you all the beach towels you can stuff in your car at the front desk.

It's a brief, moist walk to the beach, which stretches for about a mile, edged by a canal of sorts on one end and a rock sea wall on the other.   It's superb sand for running - nice and firm and not too steeply angled.

Maui has a nice combination of green lushness and balmy weather.  The afternoons were extremely breezy, but it was never chilly while the sun was out. 

The stars were outstanding.

Saturday Ace checked in for his race and we enjoyed a sunset on Makena beach before the "dinner of champions." 

The -3 hrs time change was a bonus, making it easy to hit the hay early.

I'll talk about the long day at the races on Sunday in a later post.

Monday it was tough to get moving in the morning, but we had heard tales of the "best banana bread on the planet" available from a stand somewhere up on the northwest coast of Maui, so we set out. 

Picked up some shell jewelry and a Hawaiian shirt in which Ace sure looked nice!

One sight on the way to Banana Bread was "The Blowhole."  We got pictures far away

and up close. 

Some friendly Canadians took our picture, which was nice, except that the guy kept urging us to wait for a good spout and then when we got one kept saying, "Ohhh, that's the money shot.  That's the money shot."

It finally occurred to me, after viewing several of these sights, how CLEAN everything was.  The only signs of human beings were the little stacks of rocks everybody does for some reason. 

No people debris, like pop tops or hamburger wrappers.  Needless to say, we then proceeded to walk past this delightful leave-behind.

Yes, that is a pair of panties.

After a couple hours of driving up the coast we came to a single lane road on the side of a cliff.  It was wild. 

Little half-moons were carved out of the cliffside so the inside car could pull off and let someone coming the other way pass.  Three miles of this later, we got to the banana bread stand (it self promotes along the way so you don't abandon your quest prematurely) ...only to find the banana bread had sold out twenty minutes earlier. 

They still had samples, though.  Ace found it a little dry. 

So we paid five dollars (!) for a snack-sized bag of coconut candy, and that nourished us all the way back to the fancy luau Ace had signed us up for. 

My immediate reaction when Ace told me he'd gotten us tickets to a luau was, "Oh no!  That's when all the other football players' wives go to the bathroom together and bitch about me behind my back."

But it was wonderfully done.  Of COURSE it's touristy, of COURSE it's going to be cliched.  But if the staff thought we were all suckers, they didn't betray a whiff of it.  Everyone was awfully nice and hospitable, they brought you leis as you mentioned your reservation, passed out fruity rum drinks on a tray as you queued up to be led to your table.  Ace had chosen "traditional" mat seating (versus tables-and-chairs) and that was definitely the way to go: our seats for the show were unbeatable - the inside edge of the inside table, practically in the center of the performance.  It was an all-you-can-eat, all-you-can-drink type of scene, but it was well orchestrated so there was no impossible line or rude vulturing by people back for seconds.  Food was good: octopus salad had better flavor than the ahi poke; guava chicken was yummy, and something with barbecue sauce was very nice.  Don't waste your appetite on the bread rolls. 

The show was great (also educational).  Hula girls and guys were lovely and strong.  The ladies had sparkling smiles and the men looked suitably intense. 

This girl was our favorite, she was Hawaii's answer to Reese Witherspoon.  That big scooping chin in profile, but head on she had a fantastic smile and a ton of personality in her features. 

Tuesday I had an early morning surf lesson, and learned that morning is preferable because when the winds come up that causes choppy water and surfers want glassy water with waves.  Our teacher was great, he said he was ranked second in Peru (at some point) and was very attentive.  I was astounded to get up on the first try, credit perhaps to my 10 foot wide, 20 foot long surf board.  But so what?  I was surfing! 

So much better than that one time when Travis took me out in Half Moon Bay or Pacifica somewhere in October - with an inch-thick wet suit, I paddled out, paddled back in, and was done.  It was SO cold.  Ricardo agreed that cold water surfing almost wasn't even surfing, because how much can you really do when you can't feel your feet.  I'm with that assessment 100%.  Definitely want to go again - and I think one lesson goes a long way.  I don't think I'll need another for a while. 

Anyway, I'll recommend this organization as soon as I can find the owner's card - the staff seemed very professional.  The owner and the instructor were both kind of bad mouthing their competition, saying the the other teachers were not necessarily particularly good surfers, and often came to work stoned or hung over and used the time to surf themselves rather than teach.  Grain of salt and all.  I had a great experience and the price was right - $36.95 for a two hour, two person (they cap it at 6) lesson (equipment included).  Until I find the name, it was Something Brothers, they have a white ice cream-type truck with a hula dancer on top.

I learned what rash guards are for.  The top of your board is smooth of course, but just a little tacky so your feet don't slip off, and when you're jumping up from paddling, your skin grabs the board - just a little, so there's a little squeak - and you don't notice it each time, but at the end of two hours in the salt water you realize you're a little chafey.  Fortunately I had worn a top in case it was chilly, but the front of my thighs did not benefit from this.  Another surfer showed me how you should get a rash guard with a little loop in the bottom front of it, so you can tie that to your board shorts and eliminate any gap at the belly.

We attempted the "Road To Hana," which, besides sounding like a Bob Hope movie, is supposedly one of the best 10 things to see in the United States, according to somebody or other.  (There was an article taped to a crepe stand.)  It ranked behind the Grand Canyon and, I think, Epcot Center or something equally inexplicable.  But before we got too far the skies opened up and threatened to drown us.  The girls at the crepe stand warned that the roads were skiddy in the wet, and a bamboo/waterfall route that sounded divine wasn't possible for Ace, who'd injured himself during the race.

So we patted ourselves on the back for trying, and drove back down towards Makena, to see the Best Beach in the World (Maui is all about the top ten lists), a.k.a. Big Beach, in addition to the clothing-optional Little Beach just next door.  Big Beach was just that, with a great wide surf and jumpable waves - and nearly empty at 3:30 in the afternoon.  We climbed over the rocks to Little Beach, but I chickened out because Ace had raised the spectre of some guy with a camera and an Internet connection.  It was just as well.  I went to frolick in the surf (which was GREAT - the waves were bigger here than at Big Beach) and Ace noticed some guys being skeevy till they got chased away.  It seemed, at about 5 pm, that some unspoken word went out and Little Beach turned Gay.  As Ace and I were packing up to leave, we were chastised by one long-haired local for not being sufficiently "free," so I mentioned the creeps and he said they'd chased them away, which was true, but those guys had already ruined it for me so I didn't feel very apologetic for not joining in.  Besides which, Mr. Freedom's friends had swimming trunks on anyway. 

We watched the sunset on Big Beach and called it a day.

Supposedly Hawaii's equivalent of Mardi Gras is Halloween in Lahaina.  We'd prepared costumes and had looked forward to the uniqueness of probably the only time we'd be in Hawaii on Halloween, but I was completely wiped out for some reason and could not motivate.  Ace did not insist, and instead we sat out by the pool (the hot tub had been commandeered by the loud non-residents) until they started putting out the tiki torches. 

Wednesday the weather was overcast and muggy, and we decided it was time to leave.  Fond memories, Hawaii.  (Or should I say "fond memauis"!)  I'm definitely coming back.

It's Greek to Me

After watching the double feature (How to Marry a Millionaire AND Gentlemen Prefer Blondes), Ace and I stumbled out of the Stanford Theater famished (despite the availability of a bucket of popcorn for $2 - possibly the best deal in town, even factoring the $6 ticket cost).  This problem of where to eat late on a weekend night in Palo Alto is not a new one.  On past occasions we've ended up at Manhattan & Fifth (nice but pricey), Mantra (wicked pricey), Cheesecake Factory (a. despite a forty page menu, every dish is chicken-based, and b. my chicken pasta had a hair in it), Pluto's (nothing wrong but at the other end of town) and Pizza My Heart (Ace had already cheesed out at Patxi's the night before).  What to do? 

We went to the gyros place almost across from the Stanford Theater on University - the place that shares a bathroom with Pizza My Heart and where many restaurants have come and gone. (Remember the crepe/bubble tea place?)  Maybe the chi is bad, but for the sake of this place I hope not.  It's fantastic. 

They make a fine lamb-and-beef gyro AND they're open till midnight on weekends!  Seriously, it's the most delicious gyro I've had.   That includes the Chicagoland area.  That includes King of Shwarma in New York City.  There's lots of salad in it, and it's delicously juicy, AND they grill the whole wrap so the outermost crust is hot and crispy.  So fantastic!  It is available with "sauce" and will set you back about eight bucks.

Yes, that's a pool of oil on the bottom.  It's totally worth it.  Call it "juice."

This place is way better than Gyros Gyros down at the other end of University, where I've had a variety of things, all of which seem dry to me for the most part, whether chicken or felafel-oriented.  Ace pointed out that you get more baklava for your money at Gyros Gyros, which is a valid consideration.

But, unlike Gyros Gyros which, I'll say it again, is at the other end of town, late on a Saturday night, this new place is also superb for people watching, situated just about midway between Miyake's and Nola's, if you know what I'm saying.  I could have sworn I saw the same girl (falling out of her black top and jeans) walk past in the same direction six times, and I'm still not sure whether it was one person circling back up the other side of the street or six different people wearing the same outfit.  Jocks, bachelorette party, tweedy folk, students-with-parents - the whole gamut meandered past.  Except for the drunk people, I have no idea where they were going.

When we were done, we were surprised to see a car actually getting towed. 

Can you think of anything worse than coming back to your car at three in the morning after de-buzzing only to find it GONE?  What a headache.  A lot of people stood around gawking, I think because the prospect of it happening to them was just so completely awful. 

And why?  Apparently there is actually a taxi lane in Palo Alto!  Good for them, a place where the two cabs in town can line up. 

Mantra

TS Recommendation: if you want to feel like you're living the fabulous SF lifestyle, but can't be bothered to make the drive, throw your wallet to the wind and linger here over delicious eats with friends or a lover.  (Tip: Dress up, so you're in the frame of mind for a schmancy meal.)

This is what my brother would call a "big plate, small food" restaurant, so maybe walking in famished wasn't the best approach.  As Ace and I were heading to our table, we were passed by a waiter carrying a 15 inch-diameter white plate with a single stalk of asparagus in it.  I smirked at the poor sucker who ordered that one.  The menu lists a scallop appetiser that sounded delicious, but, credit to them, at least they alert you to the fact that the dish contains all of two scallops. 

Other menu thoughts: I hate to use the term "tries too hard," because, after all, don't we want our fancy pants restaurants to try really hard to impress us?  I guess I just found menu items such as "Paneer Cuboid" to sound a little silly.  Cuboid?

Ace was impressed with their flatware, which felt very substantial and actually had a nice but functional curve to it. 

I had the "Mantra," ($10) which is their house martini.  Absolut Citron and pear schnapps of some kind, with a sugar rim.  Maybe the pear softened the Citron but I couldn't really taste it.  I was looking for something special and different, but it was kind of a plain drink.

Looking to maximize food per dollar, we started off by sharing an order of "Lamb Naan" ($4) and of "Dal" ($6).  I was thoroughly impressed by the Dal: it immediately transported me to a certain vegetarian restaurant in Little India in Singapore (shout out to Komala Vila's!).  The Lamb Naan was weird, it was regular naan with kind of a ground lamb patty baked into it.  Tasty on its own - but too mild to break through the dal flavor, if you intended it for a dipper, as we did.

I was skeptical of the "Roasted Summer Vegetable Timbale" ($16), a stack of zucchini, eggplant and cottage cheese (everything on the menu seems to come with cottage cheese - it's a pleasant, plain cheese with the soft, crumbly texture of blue cheese) but it was DELICIOUS.  Ace kept leaving his "Roulade of Chicken with Chili Peaches" ($19) to bum tastes.  (His was good - smooth and full-flavored, slightly sweet.)  The timbale was also very pretty, as Ace points out in the picture. 

Downside is the the pool of oil that remained.  Geesh.  Did they figure we wouldn't get full otherwise?

To my surprise and satisfaction, we did not leave hungry. 

Other reviews of this place wax enthusiastic about the friendliness of service.  Our guy just gave the impression of being new to the job, which was indeed disarming, but made me feel like the restaurant management was a little amateur.  It was like they were struggling to reconcile hoity-toity with chummy friendliness.  (They need to take the staff to Quattro at the Four Seasons.  The food there is okay, but nobody does service - impeccable, attentive, and yes, friendly - like the Four Seasons.) 

Maybe they were just short staffed at 10 pm on a Friday night (ahem).  Drinks had Ace and me wondering whether we'd been forgotten.  And this was the view from the throne.

Nam sayin'?

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Useful details: Kitchen closes at 11:00.  Good to know when you're looking for dinner at 10 pm on a Friday Night in Palo Alto.  (I KNOW, right?)  Other late night spots in PA include Madison & Fifth (really great for higher end), Plutos (really great for lower end), and Pizza My Heart (you know what, sometimes you just want a slice). 

Bottom line: If you want to spend a lot of money on scrumptious, rich Indian food - go to Amber India in Mountain View.  If you want to spend a lot of money and want an excuse to dress up and want to feel totally hip, and also have a delicious semi-Indian meal - go to Mantra.  I'd definitely go here for a workplace-subsidised interview lunch or similar.

Empire Tap Room

TS recommendation:

Meet your honey there in the middle of the afternoon for an order of Champagne Onion Rings and a glass of bubbly, and either return to the office with a guilty look on your face or head over to the duck pond to while away a breezy hour or catch a classic movie at the Stanford Theater until deciding what to do about dinner. 

TS Review:

I liked the Empire Tap Room much better when it had booths, like a real pub.  It was sophisticated and classy and actually felt like a grown up place to sip a martini and talk with friends where they could actually hear you.  (Cf. Nola's, only a couple of blocks away.)  The bar was reasonably quiet at 11:00 p.m. and the grey-haired bartender was engaging and friendly, proposing a variety of cocktails (and even offering samples - score 1 for the TS!) when I couldn't decide what I wanted.

I went there for lunch at noon today with co-workers, and found the patio pleasant (white tablecloths feel crisp and clean, and they seated eight of us immediately) and the waitstaff adequately attentive.  However, my inner smile when they brought bread turned to inner tears when I realized it was sourdough.  Does anybody really like sourdough?  I guess I'm in the wrong part of the country to be asking that.   

I wasn't crazy about the menu - it's a grill so there were a number of meat choices in the $25-$30 range, both of which seemed a little rich for a workday lunch - but generally all of the dishes seemed entirely ordinary.  I got the daily seafood special: it was sauteed salmon with a purportedly wine-based white sauce and green beans.  The wine sauce might as well have been cream of wheat - it had no zip until I squeezed lemon all over it, which served mainly to rinse the sauce off - and the strip of salmon was, no joke, about an inch wide.  They have pasta, which looked okay, and a variety of pizza options in the $15 area, which I might go for, if I were forced to eat a meal there again.

But a genuine highlight was the Champagne Onion Rings - look for them under "side dishes," not "appetizers."  They were light and crispy, with a flaky coating that adhered to the rings, rather than a thick, second epidermis that peels away like on some rings I know.  They come with two sauces: what appeared to be mayonnaise, and a cocktail-barbecue sauce that was ketchup-like, but sweeter and tangier.  So delicious.

Bottom line: go for the rings and the atmosphere, but don't expect much from your main dish.