This past Tuesday I broke two major rules in Ann’s unpublished Guide to Economical Eating: 1) Never grocery shop on an empty stomach, and 2) Never buy produce at a supermarket, especially when corner bodegas and local farmers’ markets offer the same selection--and often better quality--at a fraction of the cost.
I figured it being my birthday, I could afford to indulge and stray outside my normal spending boundaries. So when the intense craving for a juicy piece of fruit hit me as I cut across the local Safeway parking lot on my way home, I consciously ignored the inner voice of reason encouraging my legs to stay the course and instead gave in to the rumblings of my tummy. Minutes later as I watched the supermarket cashier place a perfectly round organic Honeycrisp apple on the scanner, I felt a tinge of regret. Maybe I should have kept walking, maybe this was a bad idea, maybe ....
The monochromatic cash register monitor flashed “$4.24”. For one apple??? I paused and considered telling the young man I had made a mistake, that I didn’t want it after all. And then I remembered what day it was. With a carefree smile I reached into my wallet and took out my credit card ...
Some girls splurge on clothes and shoes for their birthday. I choose to charge fruit on my AMEX.
And so with caution blatantly thrown to the wind, the birthday dining began. Between lip smacking bites of my outrageously priced organic Honeycrisp, Jenny and I finalized the evening agenda. Kiji, a Michelin reviewed sushi restaurant a few blocks from our apartment, had been on Jenny’s radar, and even though my heart remains still faithful to Sushi Yasuda in New York City, I was eager to make my first foray into the San Francisco sushi scene. We were seated very quickly after our 8 pm arrival, but took note of the ensuing storm of customers--parties of three, four, five, and larger arriving about ten minutes after us. We had come at the perfect time, it seemed. The birthday gods were smiling down on me.
The restaurant itself was cozy, partitioned into three small dining sections, each room leading farther back into the building and successively narrower, sparser in decor. Jenny and I scored the best seats in the house, a corner table by the front window, in plain sight of the bar and the rest of the diners. I worried, though, that the clashing sounds of neighbors’ conversations and the rather loud, upbeat, jazz-inspired music would distract me from my dinner. In general, I prefer restaurants on the quieter side. Food is serious business; the quiet helps me focus.
A friendly server presented a heavy black iron pot of green tea; the accompanying small tea cups set the tone for the meal. Compelled to take dainty sips, else I’d be pouring tea after every other swig, I began to settle into the space, taking my time, enjoying catchup-chat with Jenny ... and savoring the tea.
Miso soup. Lightly fermented, but with enough zing to get the gastric juices flowing. We drank it straight from the bowl, too engrossed in our conversation and too lazy to tell the server we didn’t have spoons.
Oshitashi. Blanched spinach in ponzu sauce, topped with bonito flakes. After the warm tea and soup, the cool citrus flavored spinach calmed the palette. Jenny and I stopped talking, our heads nodding in sympathetic agreement at the perfectly prepared spinach--firm enough to warrant a chew, yet silky smooth in texture.
Hamachi carpaccio. Thinly sliced yellowtail, with spice, truffle oil, sea salt and jalapeno. This was Jenny’s favorite dish, definitely one of the highlights of the meal. The combination of cool fish and spicy jalapeño, their opposing qualities married together by the salty oil was delightful, a palette conundrum for my brain. I had to laugh as the contrasting flavors took turns registering, flashing hot then cool then salty then all at once, as I swallowed each bite. Definitely a tease, I couldn’t resist going back for more.
Jenn roll. Cucumber, avocado, and tobiko roll topped with salmon and lemon. This was an elegant example of traditional meets nouveau. The paper thin slices of lemon sealed onto the outer layer of salmon added a high note to this standard roll combination. Cucumber and avocado suddenly became exciting, their lemon infused flavors holding my attention for much longer than usual. I was impressed by the simplicity and effectiveness of this roll.
Soazik. Uni, ankimo, quail egg nigiri. The wild-card order of the evening. If the Jenn roll were a Mozart aria, exquisitely crafted and ease-fully light, then the Soazik would be a Wagnerian lied, deeply profound, deliberate, mystical. (A bit too dramatic for my taste--no pun intended.) Blending ephemeral elements of sea and sky, the fish eggs and bird eggs provided the liquid smoothness, the salt, the musk. This starkly contrasted with the more earthbound chewy monkfish liver, its flavor sightly metallic. While I probably won’t order this dish again, its complex flavors and poetic composition will be remembered and retold in the unpublished annals of Ann’s Wow Meal Moments.
We were done. Anything else would have been anticlimactic. Plus we had another stop to make before the end of the night.
Kiji’s prices were very reasonable, especially for such thoughtful and precise presentation. What also struck me was the slower pacing of the meal. Each course was presented at a point in time where any later would have given cause to suspect disorganization in the kitchen. But as a result, I remember an expansiveness, a timeless element to my conversation with Jenny. We chatted about our past four months in San Francisco, plans for the next four months and beyond ... the typical reflective and projective birthday talk of life and love.
Feeling the cool night air, we walked briskly, turning on 24th street, heading toward Noe Valley and our favorite 24-hour local donut shop, Happy Donuts. There are very few pleasures in this world that can surpass a late-night chocolate covered cake donut and cinnamon roll.
It was a fitting ending to our dining narrative--the apple, the sushi, and the donuts--and a fantastic beginning to a new year.
Kiji Sushi Bar and Cuisine
1009 Guerrero Street. (between 22nd and Alvarado streets)
San Francisco, CA 94110
Thank you, everyone, for the facebook messages, texts, e-mails, and phone calls. You made this day so special.
