In my mind there is little that can compare with eating in San Francisco. Tonight I had delicious Chinese food at Shan Tung, 1031 Irving St., San Francisco 94122. Shrimp & chive dumplings, stewed tofu, seafood rice noodles, pickled napa and the best chicken wings ever. The older I get the more I am drawn to the flavors of my childhood. As if that weren’t enough, I’m addicted to those large woks and the jet engines that power them. After all that, you see the chef, standing tall over his domain, drawing bold strokes, taming the food.
Last night three of us went to Okazuya, 1735 Taraval St., San Francsico 94116. I have long said that if I ever had to choose one cuisine for my desert island, it would be Japanese. Even though Chinese is a close contender, the silky tataki (raw cow), glistening hama ebi (sweet shrimp), melt-in-your-mouth toro (fatty tuna), and buttery uni (sea urchin) all sent me to places far away. These were followed by the sushi platter and some pieces were just as excellent, like the hamachi (yellow tail); others, like the unagi (eel), sake (salmon) and maguro (tuna), were bland by comparison. Can’t win them all.
