What I Eat When Mrs. Stomach Heads Out Of Town
When Pam, aka Mrs. Stomach, heads out of town, things can get a lot dicey as whatever barely healthy eating habits I have tend to completely go out the window and I find myself at random spots at equally random hours. To be clear, Pam is my favorite and the best eating partner I’ve ever had (um, our marriage kind of depends on it) but, fortunately for me, even she has her limits. Here are some places that I hit up while Pam was recently visiting her Dad and our girls back east.
In the Outer Sunset, on a quiet residential street near the zoo, sits Old Mandarin Islamic, a family-run place that’s been there for over 25 years. Old Mandarin was one of my “I get to pick” meals for Father’s Day, as I’d go out of my way to order up some of their spicy, gamey dishes like stir-fried cumin lamb, lamb with spicy numbing sauce and, a bit tamer, the West Lake Lamb Dumplings. But the dish that warranted the true looks of fear from Pam and the girls was the La Si Ni, translated on Old Mandarin’s menu as “Extremely Hot Pepper Chef’s Special.” To the eye, La SI Ni looks innocent enough: scrambled eggs with bits of chicken and a variety of peppers. Dig in though and you’ll notice the pool of chili oil under the eggs while your eyes start to water. We’d each take a few bites, washed down with large spoonfuls of rice, to prove our mettle and then take the rest home, with yet more rice. It often got thrown in the compost a few days later.
With Pam safely a few thousand miles away, I recently returned solo to Old Mandarin on a cold, foggy night with the idiotic yet noble goal of eating an entire order of La Si Ni in one sitting. Rather than using rice as a coolant, this time, at the suggestion of the owner’s son, I ordered a scallion pancake, stuffing bits of the egg into the pancake and eating it like a fiery hot pocket on steroids. A few bites in, I was doing ok and proudly told the family eating next to me about my plan. They nodded back with confused stares. Then it hit. My cheeks started pulsating, abnormally large beads of sweat started rolling down my head, and my lips felt suddenly collagened. Yet I kept eating. And the bites were simultaneously more delicious and more painful as I plowed ahead. About two-thirds through, my server shot me a look that said “maybe that’s enough?” I imagine that he was sick of re-pouring my water glass and maybe worried that I’d face plant into the table. With about a quarter of the dish left, I gave up. Hours later while lying awake in the middle of a very long night (let’s just say I was relieved that Pam wasn’t anywhere nearby) I vowed to never attempt eating La Si Ni again. Yet the next day at work, there I was at the microwave, heating up the final few bites.
Way back in my early Urban Stomach blog days, I wrote about Tony’s Pizza Napoletana, then making the big move to the city from Pyzano’s, his original spot in Castro Valley. I was blown away then and am equally blown away now, even after Tony’s has expanded its menu with more types of pizza than imaginable and branched off multiple Slice Houses around the country.
There are still long waits at the original location but as a single diner late on a Saturday afternoon, I was able to immediately snag a counter seat and watch a few of the pizza masters in action while waiting for my New Yorker, a 20-inch, coal fired pie, more a la New Haven than New York, topped with sliced mozzarella, hand crushed tomato sauce, cup & char pepperoni, sliced Italian fennel sausage, Calabrese sausage, ricotta, chopped garlic & oregano. Chomping into my first slice, it was like my first glorious Tony’s experience back in 2009 all over again. Two things stood out about this pizza. First, the sauce, as has always been the case at Tony’s, was slightly chunky and barely sweet, balancing out the pepperoni and sausage, both which tasted as if they were cased by an 80 year-old Italian butcher at a mythical nearby pork store. Second was the glorious crust, charred and just crispy enough, the perfect vessel to hold up the generously distributed ingredients without folding. “I’ll eat just a few slices and bring the rest home for lunch” I fibbed aloud. I might’ve eaten the whole pie in one sitting? I might’ve wandered aimlessly around North Beach afterwards? Mrs. Stomach will never know.
I do try to eat some fruits and vegetables when Pam is out of town. Case in point, the fresh banana milkshake at Whiz Burgers on South Van Ness in The Mission. While most shake joints add oddly hewed artificial syrups to their frosty concoctions, Whiz Burgers actually dumps in a whole sliced banana. This ensures that nearly every sip has a small chunk of fruit, thus rendering the mix of full fat milk and vanilla ice cream a downright superfood! And oh yeah, it actually tastes like real bananas. Be forewarned that they’re cash only and that the only dining options are a few dirty tables in the parking lot.
