Basking in Basque food

Ok, some background here. Years ago, Guy and I decided to give a SF French restaurant a try, a place called Fringale. Wildly popular with San Franciscans, less formal than places like La Folie (which we did NOT like), it sounded good. We were told that reservations were both necessary, and a fluid concept at the place. Indeed. When we got there, for our 7:30 reservation, there was a line. A LONG line. And an unpleasant one. Some guy three people behind us started making a real ruckus, and they seated him in front of everyone else. Yours truly was not going to put up with this, and said something to the restaurant, and to him. After applause all around, the group of us (we hadn't gone in a group, but we had "united" ) were seated, apologized to, comped on dessert and wine, and had a very good meal. However, how do you eliminate the unpleasantness of that intro? I can't. So we didn't go back.

Then, there was a "buzz" both in the SF restaurant community and nationwide. The chef, Chef Hirgoyen, was opening up his own place, a fairly elegant one, to serve Basque food. The chef was Basque himself, and he wanted to try it.

With all the buzz, so did we. And we liked it. At the start, the delightfully friendly and handsome chef was there every night, cooking in extremely well fitting jeans and a cooking smock, smiling, coming to tables, with a wonderful staff, and dishes that didn't fit into anything anyone knew: were they French? Were they Spanish? WHAT WERE THEY? Indeed, they seemed to partake of both cuisines and be neither one. A dish I remember very well, a winter dessert of baked ricotta cheese, with walnuts and honey, sort of says it all. And there's always some kind of variation on this "slightly sharp cheese" with something" dessert on the menu. Last night, it was thick yogurt with berries and honey. It sounded good, but Annalena went for a classic, as below.

There is always a menu that changes somewhat, filled with both classical and "nouveau" Basque cooking. The restaurant, called "Piperade," always serves this national dish. They also serve fish stews, stuffed piquillo peppers (HAVE THEM), bacalao , various fish dishes, and other goodies. And we have always been taken care of by a server who looks like he COULD be scary (tall, shaved head, big glasses, named Daniel), he adores us. It's good to have a contact like that. Daniel led me to the fava bean salad, rather than the bacalao. GOOD CALL. The salad, of cooked, cooled fava beans and bitter treviso lettuce, was redolent with basil and mint, and a sweet vinaigrette (one key to this cuisine is sweetness. Desserts are very sweet, dressings are very sweet. If this doesn't appeal to you, the place isn't foryou.). Guy had squid "on a plank" with fennel, olives, capers, coriander and almonds. So tender it fell apart. We were there with three friends, Phil, Frank and Crystal. Everyone was having fun.

Back to that salad. There were "older" fava beans in it, that is, beans that had gone from green to yellow. NOW I KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM.

Onto main courses. Excellent duck in blackberry sauce, and the special, pan seared codfish with "porrusalda" which is essentially very thick vichissoyse. YUM. Steaks and duck and lamb for our friends, and then dessert.

There is a national dessert "Gateau basque." I've made it, it ain't easy, but it sure is good. Two layers of cake, filled with a thick, usually liqueured flavored cream, with candied cherries on the side. REAL sweet. chocolate desserts, apple tart, the aformentioned yogurt, with Daniel approving or not.

Frank "the wine guy" had brought wine with him, and Daniel waived the corkage fee. A lovely gesture, from a restaurant that is lovely all around.

No question about it. Back here we shall come.


One more to go. Next, you'll be hearing about our dear friends Margie and Dana, and a friendship that has grown over the years