Fresh as a....Oh, God, I Can't Do It

While clean, fresh, direct fast-casual might be pushing Italian out from restaurant opening ubiquity, that's not such a bad thing. After all, who doesn't want a lovely dish at the fairest price? So, Santa Barbara, let's welcome The Daisy to State Street. Chryss and I have only been once but the initial impressions are nothing but positive. The space is white and wood and warm, yet still very projectable to be whatever you want it to be. You order at the counter and the food gets delivered unto you, at a good speed (at least on the night we were there, when things were relatively slow).

What you see above is the house fish plate at $20, but if you want something with fish you won't regret eating later, you have to spend at least a twenty, don't you? It's smoked trout & apple salad, heavier on the trout than the fruit but that gives a bit of munch, hot & cold smoked salmon, which refers to how they are prepared as both are cold on the plate, labneh, cucumbers and pickled red onions and plenty of frisee, bread that's housemade and nicely grilled. It might seem like three ice cream scoops of fish is light, but you do feel full by the end, especially since all the preps pack flavor, redolent of salt or smoke and definitely things recently swimming. The labneh (maybe one of the hallmarks of fast-casual now, with its border-crossing twist and nod to the almighty Ottolenghi) is also a rich, lovely touch sitting at the Venn diagram center of yogurt, cream cheese, and sour cream.

The plate matches well with the Third Window hazy IPA, too. Plus it's good to see The Daisy pouring local brews.

Chryss really enjoyed the chickpea, chorizo and spinach stew with crostini that comes in a vegan, 'rizo-less model for a mere $15, pointing out how each component--the delightfully cooked down greens, the curried chick peas and the crunchy couscous that was much more than filler--became the favorite part of the dish after each mouthful.

We're looking forward to going back. (Oh, it's called The Daisy as that the chef Carmen Deforest's nickname--she runs the place with her husband Dominic Shiach.)

Piperis's Perfect Potent Potables

Repeal Day is one of those odd negative holidays--hooray, we're not getting beaten anymore!--but that said, aren't you happier you have a glass of something in your hand right now? Even if you don't drink, I hope the notion of Prohibition, saying you legally can't do something that's not morally wrong, should rankle. Well, December 5th was repeal day, the 85th year of the return for legal drinking (and producing and selling) in the USA. And there's just one MAGA I support: Make America Grape/Grain Again.

All that's prelude to getting the chance to sample the latest cocktail creations for the fall-winter season from one of our town's masters, George Piperis, at the Finch & Fork at the Canary Hotel this December 5th. I've had the luck to drink with and write about him before, but he's the kind of talent that lands drinks in Imbibe Magazine and geeks out on his milk punch project, which he talks about like making boozy cheese in reverse, and along the way points out Benjamin Franklin did it first. Hoping to have it ready for Christmas, he concludes, "I could do an eggnog, but that's so boring."

Boring has no room in a Piperis menu. The current one carries over some of the previous's greatest hits, from the delicious AND gloriously goofy Barbie's Bath Bomb to the old fashioned with the very new wrinkle--he washes the bourbon in duck fat. But it's the new creations I want to highlight, as in their breadth and depth they astound at every turn. Take the You Got Chocolate in My Peanut Butter, a nod to the old Reese's ad, but Reese's never tasted this good.

(Note these images are all on the fly iPhone photos--follow Piperis on Instagram to see them photographically pimped out.) This time it's Toki Japanese whisky that gets the wash treatment, but with peanut butter. The chocolate comes from Tempus Fugit créme de cacao and some chocolate shavings across that lush peanut butter foam that's so rich and flavorful you'd order it on its own. Despite that creamy top, Piperis asserts (rightfully), "It's not just a dessert cocktail--the most masculine man can drink it." Well, as long as he has some taste.

Then there's the Tryna Send It, which he calls one for the kids who work with him. At this point I felt truly old, but fair enough, I don't know snowboarders yell encouragement by screaming, "Send it!" Piperis wanted to make a "good Long Island Ice Tea," is how he put it, and that's a challenge, as the usual LI Iced Tea is simply "how many alcohols can we mix in one drink and make it sweet enough you want another?"

His drink still delivers a boozy punch, but does so with velvet-gloved elegance, starting with the garnish of candied ginger heavily-dusted with his own fermented spicy pineapple sambal--he warns me to mix it moderately into the drink, as it does have quite a kick. The drink is composed of pineapple juice, Casa Noble blanco tequlia, The Funk rum, and Singani 63, a Bolivian unaged brandy Piperis calls "real trendy." 

One of my personal favorites now on the list is the Captain Jack Sparrow, as I'm not trendy at all. I'd like to think of as more a Keith Richards than a Johnny Depp drink, myself, full of depth, unflashy skill, and surprisingly well-aged. It kicks off with Jack​ Daniels rye, off course, but earns its buccaneer bona fides in several ways, starting with Chairman’s Forgotten Cask rum (turns out Chairman's actually found a barrel and no one knew what production it was from). To tease out rye and rum flavors in some of their most varied directions there's Tempus Fugit banana liqueur and a roasted banana slice for garnish, and then a few shots of both blackstrap and tobacco bitters, the latter, oddly enough, not made with any tobacco but with bacon fat and coffee. (Beware, vegetarians!)

Piperis compares the drink in composition to a Boulevardier, but think a boulevard in Barbados, maybe. And no, it's not too banana in the slightest--it's a drink where all the parts add up to one lovely sum.

It's a fascinating companion to another more classically-conceived drink I don't have a photo for, Hayden on Holiday, named not just for the Basil Hayden in it but also a friend of Piperis who is always on vacation. (And given the season and our location, how do you not do a "holiday" named drink?) Definitely a drinker's drink (you know who you are) the namesake bourbon get the smoky punch of mezcal, too, plus Sfumato, an Amaro made from artichoke that's lighter and smoother than the better known Cynar. Add in some Cocchi Teatro Dopo and Thai bitters, and help people realize casks add coconut notes by drizzling coconut oil on the one big rock in the double highball glass, so the ice looks like it has a snowy cap, and the smell hits you as you go in for every sip. This is a deep drink, one worth much slow consideration.

If you want to go with what seems to be a very Santa Barbara drink, it's hard to pass on the Daughter of Man that, with its eucalyptus bitters and eucalyptus leaf tied alongside, Chryss joked, "Smells like a koala's butt." Having not been upclose with those Australian critters I can't say for sure, but the drink itself brings together Copper & Kings brandy, honey crisp apple, a black currant reduction with red wine, honey, and those bitters into a refreshing very unusual drink perfect for this time of year. Sweetish, without being sweet, fruity, but not too.

Then there's version 2.0 of last menu's In the Pines, this time featuring Death's Door Gin, a sure way into this gin-lover's heart. (1.0 had mezcal.) Of course the gin is pine-y to start but it gets extra pine power from Zirbenz, a stone pine liqueur from the Alps, plus an at the table dusting of pine pollen, fragrant as a field of Christmas trees, and supposedly an aphrodisiac to boot. Add some Cardamaro (Piperis likes those cardoon-artichoke Amaros) and Cocchi Torino and you have a drink deceptively smooth for all its gin.

Piperis sums it up this way, "It's an aggressive menu for this market but I'm just proud of it." And he should be, as it's playful, powerful, challenging, comforting, and most of all downright delicious.

Speaking of, Peter Cham, the executive chef, has the kitchen firing on all cylinders right now too. For example here's the most lovely of scallop dishes I've perhaps ever-eaten.

Perfectly seared to be nearly crunchy on the outside and just-cooked but cooked inside, the scallops sit atop a rich brown butter cauliflower puree. Then the plate is artfully strewn with romanesco, roasted to just the right toothsomeness, pickled kumquat, as vividly tasting as they look, crispy capers, and enough edible flowers to make you feel you're eating at a florist. Gorgeous plate of food. (And a great pairing with the Tryna Send It.)

Same with the trout, again showing off Cham's skill with brown butter, this time made with toasted hazelnuts. That's buried in broccoli florets, more toasted hazelnuts, and the most eye-catching of greens. And along with the brown butter, it sits atop green goddess dressing that will make you think young you might have been onto something liking even the blandish bottled versions of it (I'm remembering you, Seven Seas), and warm multigrains to give the dish yet more crunch. Eat it with an In the Pines and you'll feel like you're out fishing on a tranquil Eastern Sierra stream.

Bright Lights, Black Market

And we take a break from our irregularly scheduled Irish programming to bring you crispy spring rolls you really need to have from a spot much closer, Studio City. For before the amazing, he's a national, if still quite edgy treasure Randy Newman show at the Hollywood Bowl last night, we finally got to Black Market Liquor Bar, under the watchful eye of executive chef Antonia Lofaso (you might remember her from two Top Chef seasons). It's just down Ventura Boulevard from Barrel & Ashes (which somehow I have never written about, sorry), which makes this an enviable neighborhood for eats.

Those are some of the better spring rolls I've ever had, so it was no surprise to see servers bringing them out to pretty much every table in the wonderful room with a brick-barreled ceiling and fans run by old-school pulleys. Cool in so many ways. As for the spring rolls, they were crispy indeed, without any oily ooze, and stuffed with flavor, shiitake as umami stars. Your server suggests you wrap the roll in lettuce and add Thai basil, mint, and cilantro, so you get all that fresh herb kick (should be even more of those, actually, and fewer of the bean sprouts, but that might just be my particular palate talking). Here's hoping you're with a loved one sharing these, as that meager spoon isn't going to do; you're going to want to dip, and sloppy seconds and more, your roll in the yummy nuoc mam sauce, ripe with fish sauce and vinegar and lime.

Next we did the kale salad because California. It comes with pickled shallot, pecorino romano, bottarga, crushed egg, and the last three sort of do an unusual, no mayo gribiche thing, so picking them apart is tricky. But it's all direct, simple, and delish, so you won't mind, unless you need to feel you're paying for salted, cured fish roe.

You might have figured this is mostly a shared plates place, because you're smart and that's what we did. So here's perhaps the star of the evening (which means something): smoked ocean trout, ciabatta, pickled baby veg, quail egg. Think of it as an open faced, less Provencal Nicoise, with smoked trout standing in for tuna and you're sort of on the right track. While beautifully composed, it also was deliciously mixed together, so, for instance, you got a bit of pickled baby green bean with some of that superb smoked fish, and eggs the right size to match.

And then there's the crispy mackerel, that's truly crispy even in a bunch of sauce, redolent of coconut, cilantro, ginger, green papaya, peanut, chili, and lime. Now, there might be too much accoutrement, and not enough fish (particularly at $24), but my god was that unctuously oily fish scrumptious. And it's not like the last seven ingredients can really go wrong, especially as the dish also is braced by enough vinegar to keep a spiky sour spine through every bite.

And I didn't even mention the pleasing cocktails. We would go back, but while it's closer than Ireland, it's still a bit of a drive.

Maven's Much More than a Maybe

There's much to say about Maven in San Francisco, starting with the guts to name their spot with a wonderful if a bit obscure word. Then again, that is a bit of a hint as to the m.o. of Maven--there's a nod to the slightly classic age of cocktails, but a hope to update too. For instance, it works like this on the simple menu: the center offers 6 drinks and 6 plates, paired. There are other drinks and food, but they are clearly satellites to the main events.

You do want to order one of the pairings, as we did, starting with the charmingly named Corpse Reviver #598 (and we might be up to that variation of the beloved gin-based drink by now) that also includes cocchi (a white veromuth), ginger, lemon, and coriander. There's soda in it, too, so it comes up and fizzy, and the top ice cube of the glass is dusted with some lightly cracked coriander seeds, so when you go to sip, you get a healthy nose-ful. In a word, about as refreshing a drink as you could have. That pairs with Penn Cove mussels kicked up with Korean chili pepper and absinthe, and, as you have to have with soupy mussels, some grilled bread for sopping. That's right, smart cocktail folk--the absinthe you associate with the Corpse Reviver ends up in the food instead. And that ties it all up in a bright, delicious bow.

Or you might opt for The Sixpence, a drink that sounds like it might push things too far, given its last ingredient is peppercorn sorbet. The rest is gin, sherry (hip drink ingredient of the moment), mint, and lemon, but that seemingly stunt of sorbet is actually the perfect addition, a slick of frozen punchy foam--icy pepper is pretty much brilliant--that gives the drink yet more depth and breadth (the sherry helps for that too, of course). That comes paired with one of the best fish dishes I've had in some time (well, maybe till later that weekend, so here's hoping I keep up blogging about our SF-feast), McFarland Springs trout, a healthy piece of it, pink as any king salmon and with its skin cooked crisp, over a bowl of sunchokes--some little roasted nuggets, crunchy on the outside, creamy on the in, plus some whipped into a bed for the fillet to rest--that also features a clam veloute that hides a couple of actual tiny clams in it that sort of look like the sunchoke nuggets, so you don't know what you've got on your fork until it hits your tongue (a pleasant food surprise). This is all a bit rich, what with the veloute's butter, etc,. so the acid counter comes in the form of a caper gremolata, and that leaves the bowl in a perfect balance. Of course, the cocktail adds its elegance, and also helps cut the richness, too.

We also tried some crispy Brussels sprouts done in apple gastrique and not any bacon fat and just as delicious, somehow, so take that, pork.

Oh, and it's a pleasing space, too, as you can see from the photo I stole above (thanks, internets!). That's pretty much the view we had, too, from the second floor overhang (don't wear short skirts!), a wonderful sneaky spy spot for us, probably the oldest people in the restaurant/bar; so much to watch, and we didn't have to disturb any of San Francisco's gorgeous young-uns to do it.