Adventures In Dining/Cooking, Episode I

According to Marina, I'm now officially a San Franciscan. I sealed my qualification at dinner at Emmy's Spaghetti Shack by discussing, in regards to our roasted beet risotto appetizer, how the apples and walnuts added a nice texture.

Granted, it didn't make me sound as full-fledged a 'foodie' as can be found in this city, but apparently it is good enough, even if I can't describe a wine as 'grassy but tense.' I know what I like, but I can't necessarily articulate exactly why I like it, not in intellectual terms at least. But apparently I've learned enough to earn my San Francisco passport.

This city loves its food; sometimes, that love might be considered an obsession. It is possible that food has had to tell some of us that it is so sorry, but it wants to just be friends, good friends. Considering the strength of some of the responses on the Chronicle's comment boards to a recent article by food critic Michael Bauer rating the 100 best restaurants in the Bay Area, you would think that any restaurant not included on the list was slated by executive chef's order to be burned to the ground, and the parking lot salted. There were also comments denigrating Mr. Bauer's relevance, integrity, and overall worth as a human being. If you think that's bad, you should see the comments on sports columns. At least people who get irate over restaurant reviews are generally fairly articulate and commit fewer grammatical atrocities.

But there is this to be said for a city that loves food; there are a lot of good places to eat, even if you don't know why you like what you like. And it tends to inspire you to want to cook and eat more healthily. That is the goal that Marina and I have set for ourselves: to cook a good, well-thought-out meal twice a week, preferably shopping locally, with balance and health in mind.

Considering that for years I would thrive on peanut butter sandwiches, lentil soups, pasta, and the occasional tilapia fillet, this is a big step for me. And I'm excited by the prospect. I was weirdly thrilled by the experience of going to The Good Life grocery store and asking the guy at the meat counter for two skinless, boneless chicken breasts, cut in half and with the fat trimmed. Apparently people do that sort of thing, and it is considered completely normal. Who knew?

Everyone loves food. Food and good restaurant stories are interesting. So, if I were to write regularly about cooking and eating, that could feel meaningful, but what would distinguish my writing from that of anyone else who writes about food?

Well, like Socrates, I know that I know nothing. That can be fun, writing from a place of ignorance, right?

Here's what I've learned so far:

1) You don't need two whole chicken breasts for two people. That is way more chicken than you actually need.

2) Squeezing a lemon over a chicken doesn't give a whole lot of lemon flavor. You might need to try actual bottled lemon juice.

There is something satisfying in trying something more complex, and having it work well. I recently cooked chicken breasts with olive oil, garlic, some seasonings, served on a bed of couscous and with a side salad including baby spinach, red pepper, broccoli slaw, and radishes. It was a good feeling to create something real, that was healthy, and that tasted pretty good.

And it feels like there is something to write about here. Something less abstract than a lot of what I usually write about, less about ideas and more about experience. So, yeah, a small project, I suppose, small in scale and taken one meal at a time, but it appeals to me.