Fillmore

Appetite: Sweet ribs, buckwheat pancakes, Monterey abalone, bagna cauda dip, and more

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Every week, Virginia Miller of personalized itinerary service and monthly food, drink, and travel newsletter, www.theperfectspotsf.com, shares foodie news, events, and deals. View the last installment here.

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Wexler’s delight. Photo by Virginia Miller.

Wexler’s Saturday Night Cookouts Commence
I’ve been to Wexler’s a few times now, wrote about it in Appetite last month, finding it a delightul addition to downtown for gourmet Southern food and Carlos Yturria’s excellent cocktails. Saturday they launched Saturday Night Cookout, a weekly $26, 3-course feast meant to be ordered by the entire table. Chef Charlie Kleinman is purported to smoke some sweet applewood-smoked Baby Back Ribs, which you’ll each get ½ rack of (add $8 for a full rack) as your main course, accompanied by house BBQ sauce, BBQ-baked Cranberry Beans, Corn Bread with spicy honey butter and Creamy Cole Slaw. Though the menu changes, this Saturday offered first courses of either Smoked Nante Carrot Soup with lime zest and Fresno Chili (which they use a lot of here) Sour Cream, or a Little Gems Salad with house-made ranch, smoked cippolini and cornbread croutons (picking up on the smoked theme?) Dessert is your choice of berry short cake with creme fraiche biscuit, whipped cream and berries, or Hamada Farm’s heirloom watermelon topped with fleur de sel and house chili powder. Wine pairings are an additional $15 and different wineries and winemakers will be featured. Is your mouth watering yet?
568 Sacramento, SF
415-983-0102
www.wexlerssf.com

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Southern Comfort: Gussie’s Chicken & Waffles debuts in Lower Fillmore
When it comes to chicken and waffles, I miss the classic Roscoe days of my youth, hitting the Sunset and Gower location after shows on the Sunset Strip. Haven’t found a comparable Bay Area joint, though there are some good chicken & waffles here. Gussie’s Chicken and Waffles opens today with an owner who once worked at none other than: Roscoe’s. Sidewalk seating for waffles, whether they be buckwheat, banana pecan, sweet potato, or buttermilk (I need NO other reason to go but these), or add crispy fried chicken, maybe even gravy and onions? Bliss. They rope me in further with a long list of classic Southern sides, including grits, mac ‘n cheese, black-eyed peas, red beans and rice, candied yams, collard greens. Other dishes include Buttermilk Fried Chicken Livers, Louisiana Fried Catfish or Red Snapper, Grandma’s Chicken Salad, home-made Chicken Noodle Soup, or desserts like Southern Red Velvet Cake ("done the right way", per the menu) or Miss Pearl’s Banana Pudding made with ‘nilla wafers. The calories may not be comforting, but the food surely will be.
1521 Eddy Street
415-409-2529

Saison – a once a week dinner at Stable Cafe
A beautiful website reflects the ethos of our latest non-restaurant dinner: Saison Sunday nights in an actual rustic, historic stable behind Stable Cafe (making use of a grand gallery room and orange tree-studded garden patio) for a four-course, $60 dinner from Joshua Skenes (of Chez T.J. in Mountain View) and Mark Bright, co-owner and wine expert of Local Kitchen and Wine Merchant. The passion of these two makes this like dinner in a chef friend’s home: they’ll introduce guests to the kitchen staff and explain the night’s ingredients. Opening night menu yesterday included bagna cauda dip with garden vegetables, Monterey abalone with foie gras, four-story poularde (aka hen – not sure how the “four-story” part plays out), and Santa Rosa plum tart with creme fraiche ice cream. Reserve ahead as opening night was sold out in advance…
2124 Folsom Street
415-828-7990
www.saisonsf.com

Film review: “American Artifact: The Rise of American Rock Poster Art”

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By Laura Swanbeck

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Synonymous with ‘60s counterculture, the plethora of rock posters adorning the walls of the Fillmore once served a more modest purpose. Concert promoter Bill Graham used to pass them out to the first 500 people out the door. If you love San Francisco’s role in rock and roll history or the very mention of Wolfgang’s Vault sends you scrambling for your collection of vintage vinyl, you will probably enjoy Merle Becker’s American Artifact: The Rise of American Rock Poster Art. Abandoning her corporate TV job, Becker traces rock poster art from its birth in the 1960s to its modern resurgence with burgeoning online communities such as gigposters.com. The subject matter might be inspiring, but the documentary’s execution is ultimately unsatisfying. While Becker reflects how Vietnam and the hippie era shaped the art form in the ‘60s, she lacks the conviction to dive headfirst into modern influences, glossing over the palpable imprint of pop culture, advanced technology, and the Iraq war. Although the film provides a few entertaining diversions with eccentric rock poster artists recalling how they gleefully flouted art school conventions to create their own psychedelic styles, Becker, providing the film’s monotonous voice over, fails to captivate. For a passion project, she sounds surprisingly dispassionate, not to mention disingenuous as she extols the virtues of nonconformity and independent art while ultimately returning to the corporate fold.

American Artifact: The Rise of American Rock Poster Art
Sat/20, 5 and 7 p.m., $6-9
Red Vic, 1727 Haight, SF
(415) 668-3994

Terzo

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paulr@sfbg.com

Fish might not need bicycles, but does a restaurant with an Italian name need pasta? Terzo does offer fish on its menu — and pasta too, though rather glancingly, considering that many of us would put pasta right at the center of Italian cuisine. But despite the name — "terzo" means "third" in Italian and is meant to suggest the public spaces where people gather when they’re not at home or work — Terzo isn’t quite an Italian restaurant. It’s both less (a minimum of pasta and pizza-like items) and more, in its use of flavors and influences from around the Mediterranean. A friend found that the restaurant, with its emphasis on small, shareable dishes, reminded him of SPQR, the Roman-style small-plates spot on Fillmore, but for me the deeper resonance was with SPQR’s predecessor, Chez Nous, whose tapas-style cooking drew on all sorts of Mediterranean roots.

It must be said that, similarities in food notwithstanding, Terzo doesn’t remotely look like either of those places. Behind a demure street face, the surprisingly spacious interior is a kind of warm metropolitan glam: caramel-colored wood, flickering candles, mirrors, and touches of glass; the look is like that of a monastery designed by Mies van der Rohe. The patrons, while casually dressed, have an air of importance about them — but then, we are in Cow Hollow, an enchanted land of importance. Sort of our Green Zone.

That Middle Eastern staple hummus ($8), then, to set the mood. Our server told us that chef Mark Gordon’s kitchen is particularly proud of its version, and so it should be. The chickpea puree was rich and smooth, with no hint of tahini bitterness, but it was the house-made pita triangles, warm and swabbed with olive oil and za’atar, that provided the burst of extraordinariness. Pita bread like this tells you that you’ve probably never had fresh pita bread before.

Subtle touches similarly raise many of the other small dishes to the heights. A marriage of crispy polenta and morel mushrooms ($14) was discreetly though powerfully enhanced by a splash of crème fraïche scented with thyme and braised green garlic. Baby artichokes ($9), halved and achingly tender, had been braised — evidently in or with lemon juice — before being heaped atop piquillo peppers, then covered with tumbled sheets of prosciutto. A panzarotto ($9), a kind of calzone, was filled with mozzarella, chard, and chili (whose bite was palpable), then napped with a radiant marinara sauce, but it was the bread pouch that caught my attention, with its serrated lips and faintly shiny crispness, like that of pastry. And a salad of shredded fennel and porcini ($12), although laid flat on the plate like a kind of unsettled carpaccio, jumped up impressively under the coaxing of lemon, olive oil, and truffle pecorino.

Spiedini ($12.50) were simple skewers of free-range chicken chunks, bread, and onion, brushed with a cilantro-chili marinade and then grilled until everything was soft and lightly caramelized. Campfire food, for rather boutique-y campers. The only small plate that didn’t quite come off for me was roasted asparagus ($9). The spears seemed very much al dente (how much roasting did they get?) and were scattered with toasted hazelnuts — a clever idea that did not work, since these hard hemispherical pellets made an already difficult-to-eat dish that much harder to eat: knife and fork for the asparagus, plus a spoon to scoop up the nuts. At some early point, we dropped the pretense and used our fingers.

We also used our fingers, greedily, on a huge bowl of fried-onion rings ($6). No ballpark I’ve ever been to offers anything better. The red-onion rings were dunked in buttermilk batter, then fried to a delicate, crisp gold; the shreds seemed almost to want to float.

"Don’t let me eat any more, I’m going to be sick," moaned an addicted party from across the table, who nonetheless kept right on eating.

As is so often the case at small plate-ish restaurants that also offer some big plates, the latter at Terzo do not shine quite as brightly. I wonder if this doesn’t have something to do with plentitude — delight diluted by too many bites. I did like the roasted halibut ($27), topped with a surprisingly gentle radish-lemon salsa verde and presented in a shallow bowl on a rubbly bed of chickpeas. The fish had the sublime moistness I associate with poaching, while the chickpeas were plump and perfectly cooked. I liked this dish fine, but I suspect I would have thought it was a knockout if it had been half the size.

The flourless chocolate cake ($8), with fleur de sel and whipped cream, would have been a knock-out at twice the size. It had the primal intensity of some ingredient lifted from a pastry chef’s secret cache. Entre nous: amazing.

TERZO

Dinner: Sun.-Thurs., 5:30–10 p.m.;

Fri.-Sat., 5:30-11 p.m.

3011 Steiner, SF

(415) 441-3200

www.terzosf.com

Full bar

AE/DC/DS/MC/V

Moderate noise

Wheelchair accessible

Fly on Sutter

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paulr@sfbg.com

Although Brick shuffled off this mortal coil toward the end of April, it did leave part of that coil behind, in the form of an impressive brick wall. That wall now belongs to the city’s second iteration of Fly and remains the dominant physical feature of the space, along with stretches of purple paint and hangings of wall art fashioned from bottle caps that glint in the changing light.

In good times and bad, the death of restaurants isn’t unusual. But what is noticeable in the current go-round is the spread of trusted brand names — Pizzeria Delfina, for instance (which opened a second outpost in the onetime ZAO noodle bar on California near Fillmore), Dosa, and now Fly, which for years has been a stalwart on Divisadero in the Western Addition.

The new Fly has a pool-hall feel and offers more natural light than its older sibling, while the Tendernob setting is more about real grit than the hipster faux kind. Even San Francisco, one of the most yuppified cities in America, still has its patches of dingy storefronts, ratty-looking apartment blocks, and populations of people with missing teeth. Stepping into Fly can feel a bit like stepping into an oasis, but one steps in with a distinct sense of ambivalence nonetheless. Prices aren’t particularly high and the setting isn’t at all posh, but it’s all still a world apart from the one on the other side of the large windows.

Apart from the name-giving brick wall, the chief legacy of Brick is the Brick burger ($9), a hefty lump of well-seasoned Angus beef, capped with melted white cheese and threads of pickled white onion, nestled in a soft, shapely bun, and served with either salad or fries. The fries are excellent, as is the burger. In fact I’ve never had a better one in these parts, and while the price isn’t low (Carl’s Jr. has made an entire ad campaign out of the exorbitance of the $6 burger), it’s not unreasonable either.

Otherwise, much of the menu resembles that of the original Fly. The food is friendly and non-narcissistic, the sort of stuff that supports and propels conversation rather than preening for attention and itself becoming a subject of conversation. We recognized a plate of hummus and tapenade ($6.75), served with warm pita triangles and some spare change of cucumber and tomato coins — just as satisfying as six years ago, and only 50¢ more. The kitchen also turns out a broad array of pizzas, some the regular kind, others covered Fly-style with salad.

This sort of all-in-one idea seems very American, but if you prefer your pizzas and salads to coexist rather than cohabit, your wish can be easily accommodated. We found the La Tortilla salad ($8) to be a jumble of mixed baby greens with corn kernels, black beans, tomato dice, shards of crisped tortillas, and a cilantro vinaigrette — it was as if a bowl of ordinary mésclun had collided with one of those Mexican salads served in a giant taco bowl. The vinaigrette didn’t quite appeal; it did taste like cilantro (whose flavor can dissipate rapidly once the leaves are cut), but it could have used a bit of counterpoint — some sweet or sour, or both — for fullness.

Considering that the pizzettas are showered with salad, the distribution of basil leaves atop a pizza margherita ($9) was notably continent. The other toppings (mozzarella, chopped tomato) were applied with equal restraint, which meant, for once, that the crust wasn’t merely a beast of burden but a worthy dimension of the whole in its own right. Fly’s crusts rise to the occasion by managing to be both thin and puffy at the same time.

The barbecue pork sandwich ($9) was just absolutely stuffed with dense, juicy meat and plenty of provolone. It reminded me of those meat-and-cheese Jack in the Box ads from a few years ago: no frills, just the good stuff, on a nice fresh baguette. And fish tacos ($8 for three) were very tasty and crunchy. Their only flaw had to do with their swaddling clothes, which consisted of flour rather than corn tortillas. Flour tortillas do have a silken softness their corn brethren can’t match, but they also raise an authenticity issue and aren’t as good for you. (Corn tortillas are made from masa, a whole-grain flour.) Most of us eat far too much wheat flour anyway, and too much of that is refined white flour.

The mood of the place is leisurely and undramatic, and it encourages drifters-in. Drifting is better than flying. Of course, what isn’t?

FLY ON SUTTER

Continuous service: Tues.-Sun., noon–2 a.m.;

Mon., 5 p.m.–2 a.m.

1085 Sutter, SF

(415) 441-4232

www.flybarandrestaurant.com

Full bar

AE/DC/DS/MC/V

Potentially noisy

Wheelchair accessible

Into the wild

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› kimberly@sfbg.com

SONIC REDUCER O, Commuter — wherefore art thou, Commuter? Grandaddy mastermind Jason Lytle is familiar enough with the concept of the long haul: he’s known plenty of people who’ve made the trek from his Modesto hometown to Silicon Valley and the Bay. But this time out, on Lytle’s first solo album, an exquisite clutch of songs titled Yours Truly, the Commuter (ANTI-), the typical definition of harried, driven, and road-raging working-stiff doesn’t quite apply. Or so he explains from his home on the edge of Montana backcountry, over a hot printer jetting out flight info concerning his imminent European tour.

"In this instance, I’m referring to the place I gotta go to make good art, get good results, be creative, and then making the trip back to reality, which is just taking care of business and taking care of my life and making sure that the car still works and, uh, there aren’t too many stains on the carpet," he rambles softly, as if speaking to himself, an old friend, or, as the Yours Truly song title goes, the "Ghost of My Old Dog." "It’s not always an easy transition, and I’ve found that the longer I do this, the harder it gets to push yourself to that level of making good art, and then having to come back and be responsible and sift through the wreckage."

Lytle turned 40 on March 26, while fulfilling his target of becoming the "healthiest" he’s ever been. ("Whew, it was a real chore!" he wisecracks wryly, recalling the performance and party gauntlet at South by Southwest a few days previous.) He has more goals where that one came from.

"There’s all this stuff I want to do before I get old," the ex-semi-pro skateboarder says, when I joke that the grandpa years are approaching despite the demise of his old band Grandaddy. "I want to start painting, and I wouldn’t mind playing golf, and I want to get a dog again. I still fucking skateboard on a regular basis! If your body allows you to do it, why quit?"

It’s just as hard to imagine Lytle turning his back on music, in spite of his seeming hiatus since the release of Grandaddy’s Just Like the Fambly Cat (V2, 2006) and his move to Montana three years ago. He busied himself setting up his studio, working on songs for M. Ward, Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse’s forthcoming project, and commercials, until a snowed-in winter spent at the grand piano and peering out the window triggered these tunes. Majestic space balladry ("I Am Lost [And the Moment Cannot Last]"), echo chamber rock ("It’s the Weekend"), Kraut meditations ("Fürget It"), bittersweet summons to the temple of Neil Young ("Here for Good"), and stately Brian Wilson-levitating-on-Air elegies ("Flying Thru Canyons") flowed forth. "I love the idea of putting together a little body of work," Lytle says, "whether it be a mix tape for my friends or just a collection of Christmas songs that I’ve recorded for relatives — or in this case, a group of songs that I thought were strong enough to call an album."

When Lytle comes through town with a group including ex-Grandaddy drummer Aaron Burtch and Rusty Miller of SF’s Jackpot, he’ll be fielding another question: When is the musical commuter coming home? "I would have loved to have stayed in California," drawls Lytle. "But the types of places that I want to live don’t really exist in California anymore. They’re too expensive — or they’re overrun with meth labs." *

JASON LYTLE

Mon/8, 9:30 p.m., $16

Café du Nord

2170 Market, SF

www.cafedunord.com

Also opening for Neko Case

Tues/9, 8 p.m., $30–<\d>$33

Warfield

982 Market, SF

www.goldenvoice.com

————

SNAP! OBSCURA NOT MISERABLE

Don’t you dare call Camera Obscura nostalgists. Vocalist Tracyanne Campbell, she of the heart-torching girlish brogue, fumes at the very thought, despite a "post-dinner slump" following her vegetarian Thai green curry. "No, I don’t think we’re a bunch of miserable, nostalgia-hungry losers," she protests from Glasgow. "We don’t long for the past. The past is very much a part of me, but I think it’s good to try and live in the moment. I think we’re misunderstood."

Still, the combo’s delicious new My Maudlin Career (4AD) is steeped in girl-group charm and Motown shimmy — though Camera Obscura had forged its sound eons before those genres’ current revival. There’s little contrivance to Camera Obscura’s lush music, Campbell explains, especially when it comes to recording: the group tends to track live with few overdubs. "I think a lot of times it’s the happy accident, to be honest," she says. "I don’t want to be too persnickety. I want to be brave enough to try and capture that moment on its own, without looking back with regret."

CAMERA OBSCURA

With Agent Ribbons

Mon/8, 9 p.m., $21.50

The Fillmore

1805 Geary, SF

(415) 346-6000

www.livenation.com

B.B. King charms the Fillmore

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By Ariel Soto

When someone is a master of their art, it means they can make the simplest things genius. Think of Alice Waters: she’s one of the most famous chefs in the world and her dishes are based on totally minimal ingredients. B.B. King (http://www.bbking.com/) is the master of blues guitar. On May 21, King played to an ecstatic audience at the Fillmore Theater. King plays like no other musician I’ve ever seen, lingering on the silences, or playing only one exquisite note that lasts for over a minute and sounds like an orchestra of complexity. King is also an incredible storyteller, relating tales about his life as an 83 year old guitarist traveling the world to play music and even about discovering Viagra, with constant accompaniment from his band to gives his stories even more umph. He also has quite an appreciation for all the ladies and had everyone sing “You are my sunshine” followed by a required kiss between any lovers in the audience. The artist made sure the house lights were raised … he just loved watching the ladies get smooched! King is beyond comfortable and charismatic on stage, and with over 15,000 concerts under his belt, I’m sure this master has quite a few more tunes to share with many more audiences around the world.

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Sonic Reducer Overage: TV on the Radio, Bun B, Fischerspooner, Webbie, Floating Goat, Passion Pit, and more

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Memorial Day weekend – the wind is down, and the moment has come to break out the hibachi, dust off those sassy hot pants, and kick back for at least a day or three. And of course, there’s more worthy music to fit in there, in between the sunbathing, cookie-baking, and electroclashing.

Fischerspooner
Does the GE halo give me a double chin? And does it electroclash with the rubber tubing? The jaw-dropping live act whips out a dour, synthpop Entertainment, as well as a new stage show. Fri/22, 9 p.m., $29.50. Fillmore, 1805 Geary, SF. (415) (415) 421-8497.



TV on the Radio and Dirty Projectors

The praise-rattled TVs were peppy as all get out at Treasure Island fest last year – and here they come again with the better-than-ever Dirty Projs, which blew everyone away at SXSW this spring. Fri/22, 8 p.m., $30. Fox Theatre, 1807 Telegraph, Oakl. (415) 421-8497.

Call it Afro-Surreal

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I’m not a surrealist. I just paint what I see. — Frida Kahlo

THE PAST AND THE PRELUDE


In his introduction to the classic novel Invisible Man (1952), ambiguous black and literary icon Ralph Ellison says the process of creation was "far more disjointed than [it] sounds … such was the inner-outer subjective-objective process, pied rind and surreal heart."

Ellison’s allusion is to his book’s most perplexing character, Rinehart the Runner, a dandy, pimp, numbers runner, drug dealer, prophet, and preacher. The protagonist of Invisible Man takes on the persona of Rinehart so that "I may not see myself as others see me not." Wearing a mask of dark shades and large-brimmed hat, he is warned by a man known as the fellow with the gun, "Listen Jack, don’t let nobody make you act like Rinehart. You got to have a smooth tongue, a heartless heart, and be ready to do anything."

And Ellison’s lead man enters a world of prostitutes, hopheads, cops on the take, and masochistic parishioners. He says of Rinehart, "He was years ahead of me, and I was a fool. The world in which we live is fluidity, and Rine the Rascal was at home." The marquee of Rinehart’s store-front church declares:

Behold the Invisible!

Thy will be done O Lord!

I See all, Know all, Tell all, Cure all.

You shall see the unknown wonders.

Ellison and Rinehart had seen it, but had no name for it.

In an introduction to prophet Henry Dumas’ 1974 book Ark Of Bones and Other Stories, Amiri Baraka puts forth a term for what he describes as Dumas’ "skill at creating an entirely different world organically connected to this one … the Black aesthetic in its actual contemporary and lived life." The term he puts forth is Afro-Surreal Expressionism.

Dumas had seen it. Baraka had named it.

This is Afro-Surreal!

THIS IS NOT AFRO-SURREAL


A) Surrealism:

Leopold Senghor, poet, first president of Senegal, and African Surrealist, made this distinction: "European Surrealism is empirical. African Surrealism is mystical and metaphorical." Jean-Paul Sartre said that the art of Senghor and the African Surrealist (or Negritude) movement "is revolutionary because it is surrealist, but itself is surrealist because it is black." Afro-Surrealism sees that all "others" who create from their actual, lived experience are surrealist, per Frida Kahlo. The root for "Afro-" can be found in "Afro-Asiatic", meaning a shared language between black, brown and Asian peoples of the world. What was once called the "third world," until the other two collapsed.

B) Afro-Futurism:

Afro-Futurism is a diaspora intellectual and artistic movement that turns to science, technology, and science fiction to speculate on black possibilities in the future. Afro-Surrealism is about the present. There is no need for tomorrow’s-tongue speculation about the future. Concentration camps, bombed-out cities, famines, and enforced sterilization have already happened. To the Afro-Surrealist, the Tasers are here. The Four Horsemen rode through too long ago to recall. What is the future? The future has been around so long it is now the past.

Afro-Surrealists expose this from a "future-past" called RIGHT NOW.

RIGHT NOW, Barack Hussein Obama is America’s first black president.

RIGHT NOW, Afro-Surreal is the best description to the reactions, the genuflections, the twists, and the unexpected turns this "browning" of White-Straight-Male-Western-Civilization has produced.

THE PRESENT, OR RIGHT NOW


San Francisco, the most liberal and artistic city in the nation, has one of the nation’s most rapidly declining black urban populations. This is a sign of a greater illness that is chasing out all artists, renegades, daredevils, and outcasts. No black people means no black artists, and all you yet-untouched freaks are next. Only freaky black art — Afro-Surreal art — in the museums, galleries, concert venues, and streets of this (slightly) fair city can save us!

San Francisco, the land of Afro-Surreal poet laureate Bob Kaufman, can be at the forefront in creating an emerging aesthetic. In this land of buzzwords and catch phrases, Afro-Surreal is necessary to transform how we see things now, how we look at what happened then, and what we can expect to see in the future.

It’s no more coincidence that Kool Keith (as Dr. Octagon) recorded the 1996 Afro-Surreal anthem "Blue Flowers" on Hyde Street, or that Samuel R. Delany based much of his 1974 Afro-Surreal urtext Dhalgren on experiences in San Francisco.

An Afro-Surreal aesthetic addresses these lost legacies and reclaims the souls of our cities, from Kehinde Wiley painting the invisible men (and their invisible motives) in NYC to Yinka Shonibare beheading 17th (and 21st) century sexual tourists of Europe. From Nick Cave’s soundsuits at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts to the words you are reading right now, the message is clear: San Francisco, the world is ready for an Afro-Surreal art movement.

Afro-Surrealism is drifting into contemporary culture on a rowboat with no oars, entering the city to hunt down clues for the cure to this ancient, incurable disease called "western civilization." Or, as Ishmael Reed states, "We are mystical detectives about to make an arrest."

A MANIFESTO OF AFRO-SURREAL


Behold the invisible! You shall see unknown wonders!

1. We have seen these unknown worlds emerging in the works of Wifredo Lam, whose Afro-Cuban origins inspire works that speak of old gods with new faces, and in the works of Jean-Michel Basquiat, who gives us new gods with old faces. We have heard this world in the ebo-horn of Roscoe Mitchell and the lyrics of DOOM. We’ve read it through the words of Henry Dumas, Victor Lavalle, and Darius James. This emerging mosaic of radical influence ranges from Frantz Fanon to Jean Genet. Supernatural undertones of Reed and Zora Neale Hurston mix with the hardscrabble stylings of Chester Himes and William S. Burroughs.

2. Afro-Surreal presupposes that beyond this visible world, there is an invisible world striving to manifest, and it is our job to uncover it. Like the African Surrealists, Afro-Surrealists recognize that nature (including human nature) generates more surreal experiences than any other process could hope to produce.

3. Afro-Surrealists restore the cult of the past. We revisit old ways with new eyes. We appropriate 19th century slavery symbols like Kara Walker, and 18th century colonial ones like Yinka Shonibare. We re-introduce "madness" as visitations from the gods, and acknowledge the possibility of magic. We take up the obsessions of the ancients and kindle the dis-ease, clearing the murk of the collective unconsciousness as it manifests in these dreams called culture.

4. Afro-Surrealists use excess as the only legitimate means of subversion, and hybridization as a form of disobedience. The collages of Romare Bearden and Wangechi Mutu, the prose of Reed, and the music of the Art Ensemble of Chicago and Antipop Consortium express this overflow.

Afro-Surrealists distort reality for emotional impact. 50 Cent and his cold monotone and Walter Benjamin and his chilly shock tactics can kiss our ass. Enough! We want to feel something! We want to weep on record.

5. Afro-Surrealists strive for rococo: the beautiful, the sensuous, and the whimsical. We turn to Sun Ra, Toni Morrison, and Ghostface Killa. We look to Kehinde Wiley, whose observation about the black male body applies to all art and culture: "There is no objective image. And there is no way to objectively view the image itself."

6. The Afro-Surrealist life is fluid, filled with aliases and census- defying classifications. It has no address or phone number, no single discipline or calling. Afro-Surrealists are highly-paid short-term commodities (as opposed to poorly-paid long term ones, a.k.a. slaves).

Afro-Surrealists are ambiguous. "Am I black or white? Am I straight, or gay? Controversy!"

Afro-Surrealism rejects the quiet servitude that characterizes existing roles for African Americans, Asian Americans, Latinos, women and queer folk. Only through the mixing, melding, and cross-conversion of these supposed classifications can there be hope for liberation. Afro-Surrealism is intersexed, Afro-Asiatic, Afro-Cuban, mystic, silly, and profound.

7. The Afro-Surrealist wears a mask while reading Leopold Senghor.

8. Ambiguous as Prince, black as Fanon, literary as Reed, dandy as André Leon Tally, the Afro-Surrealist seeks definition in the absurdity of a "post-racial" world.

9. In fashion (John Galliano; Yohji Yamamoto) and the theater (Suzan Lori-Parks), Afro-Surreal excavates the remnants of this post-apocalypse with dandified flair, a smooth tongue and a heartless heart.

10. Afro-Surrealists create sensuous gods to hunt down beautiful collapsed icons.

AFRO-SURREALISM IN ACTION


San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and the Museum of the African Diaspora present the works of Mutu, William Pope L., Trenton Doyle Hancock, Glenn Ligon, Wiley, Shonibare, and Walker en masse, with Lam’s Jungle as a center piece. Lorraine Hansbury Theater stages Genet’s The Blacks and Baraka’s The Dutchman, while San Francisco Opera adapts Aimé Césaire’s Caliban and the Fillmore has an Afro-punk retrospective. Afro-Surreal adaptations of Reed’s Mumbo Jumbo (1972), Hurston’s Tell My Horse (1937), and Marvel’s Black Panther will grace the silver-screen.

These are the first steps in an illustrious and fantastic journey. When we finally reach those unknown shores, we will say, with blood beneath our nails and mud on our boots:

This is Afro-Surreal!

Live Shots: Yoshida Brothers strum up Yoshi’s

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Text and photos by Ariel Soto

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Walking confidently on stage and decked out in tradition Japanese garb, the Yoshida Brothers took over the stage at Yoshi’s SF in the Fillmore — they’ll be performing there until May 16th. The Yoshida brothers play the shamisen, a square shaped guitar like instrument with only three stings that twangs and resonates long after the stings have been plucked.

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House of Horrors

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› kimberly@sfbg.com

SONIC REDUCER Thrills and chills and disco ball spills — that’s what the Horrors are made of? After Shih Tzu-banged frontman Faris Badwan brattily ripped the mirror ball off the ceiling of 330 Ritch a scant two years ago, who knew the U.K. band would show its true, formative, and fundamentally curious colors? The hues and cries streaming off the Horrors’ second album, Primary Colours (XL) read as a limpid, moonlit pop-sonnet to true-school proto-goth-rockers and morbidly fixated post-punk upsetters like Siouxsie and the Banshees and Killing Joke.

Just don’t flash that dance-floor orb in front of Badwan again. "Mmm, Faris never really liked mirror balls," mumbles guitarist Joshua Third, né Hayward. It’s frozen in Boston, where the group is performing that night, and the chill that drops momentarily over the conversation is brief yet bracing. "Luckily we haven’t played anywhere with a mirror ball for ages."

Despite the menace — or maybe because of it — the goth-punk movement has always seemed fundamentally conservative. But the Horrors don’t peddle the shockabilly moves so common among goth-identified SoCalis. In contrast to the easy-sleazy comic-book corn of today’s prominent goth-punk purveyors — pass the Horrorpops and just keep walking — the group now draws from exploratory originators Joy Division and ornery rabble-rousers the Birthday Party. Primary Colours boasts driving tunes carved from silvery synth textures ("Three Decades") and Jesus and Mary Chain-like buzz-saw pop that thumps with creative negativity ("Who Can Say").

The group capers on the same frosty darkling plain as Interpol, judging from tunes like the Velvet-y, string-strewn "I Only Think of You," which may turn off those with a low tolerance for pop pomposity. Still, the opening track, "Mirror’s Image," sets the tone for pleasing surprise with its initial lush, plangent soundscape — more akin to Lindstrøm than Sisters of Mercy — before gently plunging into spiraling reverb, effects-gristled guitar, and a nodding keyboard fragment that will have some recalling Echo and the Bunnymen and others Kraftwerk.

Third says Primary Colours was "the first chance we had as a band to shut ourselves away and work on the record on our own. We’d retreat into a rehearsal space and get completely lost in it. Yeah, I think that really comes through."

The Horrors titled the first song they ever wrote "Sheena is a Parasite," so yes, this is throwback rock, It gazes directly into the eyes of the more serious Anglo art-rock makers of the ’80s with self-conscious affection, especially on haunted, haunting songs such as "Do You Remember." And what’s wrong with that?

"We actually made a record that’s a complete trip, from start to finish — it takes you through different moods," Third explains. "Also, you can listen to it on repeat, because the last track plays into the first track. I’ve always been quite into the idea because I like to sit down and listen to things over and over again." It’s a quality he misses in many new albums. "Yeah, partly the Internet’s to blame. Partly labels are to blame. Partly bands are to blame — because they don’t seem to care anymore," he says, capping the remark with a small grim chuckle.

In the Horrors’ hands — the ensemble coproduced along with longtime collaborator Craig Silvey, Portishead’s Geoff Barrow, and video artist Chris Cunningham — Primary Colours sounds astonishingly unmusty, stirring with tangible signs of life. The group has managed to find a pulse — while maturing into, yikes, artists. "We were all 19 when we wrote the first record — now we’re in our early twenties!" Third exclaims. "I think it’s the typical growing-up … malarkey." *

THE HORRORS

With the Kills

Tues/19, 8 p.m., $22.50

Fillmore

1805 Geary, SF

www.livenation.com

————

MORE LIVE:

COMEDIANS OF ROCK II

Musical funny folk Tara Jepsen of Lesbians, Chris Portfolio of Hank IV, and Matt Hartman of Sic Alps pit wits and carve out snarfs at this comedy two-fer. Wed/13, 9 p.m., free. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. www.hemlocktavern.com

BLACK JOE LEWIS AND THE HONEYBEARS

And what a long, sweet name it is: the Austin, Texas, soul-stirrers cook up hot ones from Tell ‘Em What Your Name Is! (Lost Highway). Sat/16, 9 p.m. $17. Slim’s, 333 11th St., SF. www.slims-sf.com

JOHN VANDERSLICE

The Tiny Telephone operator’s new Romanian Names (Dead Oceans) rolls out Moog moods and Byzantine yarns. Mon/18, 6 p.m., free. Amoeba Music, 1855 Haight, SF. www.amoeba.com. Tues/19, 7:30 p.m., $16. Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF. www.rickshawstop.com

Doves

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PREVIEW After generously treating its fans to an agonizing four-year wait,

Manchester-based trio Doves decided it was time. They recorded the 11 tracks that make up their fourth LP in a converted barn in the sprawling Cheshire countryside, a part of England that — like the group itself — is roughly as fashionable as a rhinestone-bedazzled fanny pack.

The result of this labor is Kingdom of Rust (Heavenly/Astralwerks), a collection that combines unabashed, fist-pumping spirit with the murky melancholy that defines Doves’ at times brilliant 10-plus-year career. While the trio has always been adept at heartbreaking dirges (see: "The Sulphur Man"; "The Cedar Room"), the emotional landscape of its new release includes hope as well as despair. For every haunting ballad ("Birds Flew Backwards"; "Lifelines"), there are a pair of powerful anthems — albeit ones with touches of melancholy — that are driven by pounding drums, vocalist/bassist Jimi Goodwin’s soulful warble, and expansive arrangements.

Built around a swirling riff by guitarist Jez Williams, "Winter Hill" uncoils into the group’s catchiest number to date. Rollicking tracks like "Spellbound" and "The Outsiders" beg to be played live. Thanks to YouTube, it’s already clear they are even better in concert.

Bands are usually applauded for finding a winning formula and sticking to it (read: musical stagnation) or experimenting for the sake of it (read: resorting to desperate measures after running out of melodic ideas). Rarely are they praised for naturally progressing and maturing. But Doves have shown time and again that they don’t need the awards and the plaudits. They’ll happily keep making great records and filling theaters. All we have to do is listen.

DOVES With Wild Light. Mon/18, 8 p.m., $27.50. The Fillmore, 1805 Geary, SF. (415) 346-6000, www.thefillmore.com>.

Super Ego: Mophono, wet jocks, tiny spoons, lazers

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By Marke B.

Some smooth and mellow Mophono pho’ ya

Oh, the transient grunts and groans of the dance floor: Just got word yesterday that the eagerly awaited appearance of disco progenitor Nicky Siano at Paradise Lounge has been cancelled — my deep throat tells me there were sound and venue concerns (although I love the ‘Dise!). In any case, there’s plenty of other things to hold your ear-nterest and get you bangin’ this weekend. Besides my rundown in this week’s Super Ego column, below are some more earth shakers and affairs.

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He loves me, he loves me not

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Wanna spoon?

I had absolutely no idea that those little plastics coffee spoons from McDonald’s were banned because of illicit uses (or perceived one, anyway.) You’d think after all this time, plastic + noses = OK. But no. In any case, snort in luxurious style with the unveiling of a perfect publicity stunt: renowned hip mens’ clothiers and artists Ju$t Another Rich Kid, Nice Collective, Terence Koh, and more have designed cute, exclusive, and most likely expensive little Bolivian helpers (watch that terrorism funding!). They’ll be giving the dish at Harput’s from 6pm-9pm tonight (expect beautiful people), and then there’ll be a kiki afterparty at Triple Crown. Don’t try to force your way into the stalls. It’s all called “He loves me, he loves me not” which brings to mind a kinky game somehow.

Thu/7, 6-9pm, free. Harput’s Market, 1527 Fillmore, SF. www.harputsmarket.com
Afterparty, 10pm-midnight, free. Triple Crown, 1760 Market, SF. www.triplecrownsf.com

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Lazer Sword + Mophono live

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Lazer Sword, can you blap me for loving you?

Local future blap fave raves Lazer Sword are back from their whirlwind Euro tour with an uptempo live set to get you moving, supported by Bay man of intrinsic deep dance knowledge, Mophono at, yes, the Paradise. Put ’em up and get down, child — and let’s see if those speakers still work.

Lazer Sword at 111 Minna San Francisco 1/15/09

Fri/8, 10pm, $10. Paradise Lounge, 1501 Folsom, SF. www.hacksawent.com

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The Rod

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Post-Cinco uprising

Why, yes, I DO host a wet jock strap contest. Come down to Bus Station John’s retro bathhouse disco monthly, The Rod, at Deco this Friday around midnight and see me and Hunky Beau scare up a willing and wet bevy of gorgeous, unclad alternaqueer boys — and see who’ll win $100. (No muscle queens need apply, thanks.) Then stay and dance until 3am to the best disco you’ve only ever heard sampled in other songs before. It’s fun and a little scary: frisson alert!

Fri/8, 10pm-3am, $7. Deco, 510 Larkin, SF. www.decosf.com

Down wit’ ODP

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a&eletters@sfbg.com

SONIC REDUCER Remember Y2K, the dot-com boom … electroclash? Born when the 9/11 attacks were but a glimmer in Terror’s eye, electroclash flickered into view swiftly, a punk/DIY movement of sorts as every imaginative slut ‘n’ buck plugged into easily accessible music-making technology via no-band-backtalk laptops. It all climaxed with a 2003 tour and then an electroclash backlash, as associated artists distanced themselves from the tag. Now, much like a sexy, robotic zombie designed to sell booze with sleek chrome boobs, it seems to be clattering back to life, à la the Star Trek franchise or any other once-future-forward artifact from a distant age.

It’s been too long. After dance-punk, plain ole electro, Bmore moves, laser booty, bass crazes, and the like, the crass class of 2000 is threatening to strut its kicks ‘n’ kinks once again. May 5 was apparently ground zero for electroclash’s survivors. The man who coined the genre, Larry Tee, returned then with Club Badd (Ultra), and Perez "My Penis" Hilton, Amanda "My Pussy" Lepore, and Princess Superstar on board with him. Fischerspooner came back the same day as well, promising Entertainment (FS Studios) before a May 22 live production at the Fillmore. Casey and company select the path of earnest synth-pop and downbeat soundscape explorations ("Money Can’t Dance"), while Mr. Tee’s, er, full-length comes off as a "badd" joke or novelty toss-off at best and embarrassing at worst, thanks to its tone-deaf paeans to "Agyness Deyn" and "The Noughties" (sorry to inform Tee that the aforementioned is nearly over). Yet both recordings pale in comparison to another May 5 entry in the mini-revival. I Feel Cream (XL) is the latest effort by an original who creeps into the oddest cultural crannies, from Gap ads to 2003’s Lost in Translation: Peaches.

OK, I’m still hot for ex-teacher Merrill Nisker. I cherish those sexy dialed-in giggles over her Itty Bitty Titty Club, back around the time that The Teaches of Peaches (Kitty-Yo/XL, 2000) thrust into view. And I’m rooting for Peaches — 40 and onto her fourth long-player — to snatch the dance floor crown from Lady GaGa. With her now-well-foregrounded singing and still-girlish-sounding dirty party raps, she’s equipped to do it.

Just dance? There’s no denying that Peaches is feeling the creamy, gooey fluidity of life beneath the mirror ball, assisted by producer James Ford of Simian Mobile Disco, among others. But her orgies are crammed with sharp edges and jagged corners; the at-times- gorgeous arrangements are preoccupied with candy-hued horror show synth textures, rave airhorns, whinnying house effects, and last-days-of-disco tropes. Yes, Peaches has been busy, much like her album. Teaming with Yo Majesty’s Shunda K on "Billionaire" — a faux-gold-digger-on-gold-digger track that sounds like the first single off a Gwen Stefani solo missive — Peaches concludes with a curdled snarl, "Until they tie the noose /never overproduced." Is the irony intentional?

Half self-aware smartass, half full-blown art babe caught up in the carnival, Peaches has moved from the more politically confrontational Impeach My Bush (XL, 2006) toward the rave era’s pacifying teat. The video for the designed-to-be-a-hit "Talk to Me," in which a mohawked Peaches tears at a Dorian Gray-like portrait, daisy-enchained by wiggy Grudge-style spectral waifs, says it all. Most divas — Yo Madgesty comes to mind — would be content to get the seduction right, but the liberal sprinkling of Peaches’ imperfect raps gives you a taste of why she has stood the test of time. She’s the dutifully iconoclastic daughter of Madonna. She’s also mother superior to legions of raw solo geeks who want to kick it roughly, bravely at center stage. "I drink the whiskey neat /You lick my crow’s feet," Peaches coos on "Trick and Treat." A proper lady Madonna would never be quite so frank about her age or sexuality.

And few can scheme up a playground chant-turned-pop tune like Peaches, whose school kid yelps on "Show Stopper" — "Show stopper, panty dropper /Everybody’s favorite shocker … I’m a stage whore /I command the floor /Rock you harder than a martyr in a holy war /Can’t help but engage you /Never mind my age /It’s like breaking out of a cage" — dare you to call her ODP (Ol’ Dirty Peaches). Peaches may not have the smoothest flow in the room, but does anyone brave the muddy psychosexual rapids of identity and abandonment quite like her? Call this Electra clash, Oedipus.

PEACHES

June 5, 9 p.m., $25–$27

Grand Ballroom at Regency Center

Van Ness and Sutter, SF

(415) 673-5716

www.goldenvoice.com

A weekend under the influence: SFIFF 52

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By Lynn Rapoport

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Mabel (Gena Rowlands, in an Oscar-winning Oscar-nominated performance) has a rare calm moment in A Woman Under the Influence.

The first weekend of the 52nd San Francisco International Film Festival produced a cheerful, if windblown, bottleneck along Post between Fillmore and Webster. The one outside the Castro on Sunday night had a slightly more shell-shocked emotional tenor. The crowd seemed in good enough spirits (though this reviewer admits to getting a bit misty-eyed) while giving Gena Rowlands a standing ovation when the 78-year-old actor came onstage before John Cassavetes’s A Woman under the Influence (1974). But the film’s two and a half hours of abrasive familial dysfunction and poorly attended-to mental illness are rough going, and no one could be blamed for wandering home in a torn-up, overwrought fugue. (Think happy thoughts: like the 2008 restoration of the film by the UCLA Film and Television Archive, underwritten by Gucci.)

Less emotionally brutalizing was Friday evening’s screening of Art & Copy (screening again Tues/28, 4 p.m., Sundance Kabuki), where doc maker Doug Pray (Hype!, Scratch, Surfwise) expressed satisfaction at finally getting a film into SFIFF and noted that this one was centered on “the idea that if you hate advertising, make better advertising.”

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Radio, radio: a scene from Art & Copy.

DVRs, defaced billboards, and legislation to calm the traffic of branding on virtually every visible surface of public space also spring to mind. However, these and other options are left unexplored in favor of a brief history of the revolution that occurred in advertising midcentury; commentary by some of the rebel forces and their descendants, including locals Jeff Goodby and Rich Silverstein (Goodby, Silverstein, and Partners); entertaining behind-the-scenes tales of famous ad campaigns (Got Milk?, I Want My MTV); and stats sprinkled throughout on advertising’s cultural presence, nationally and globally.

Self-comparisons to cave painters and a sequence near the close that feels like an advertisement for advertising (emotionally evocative images of children’s faces upturned in wonder to the sky: check) are somewhat uncomfortable to witness. But Pray has gathered together some of the industry’s brighter, more engaging lights, and his subjects discuss their vocation intelligently, thoughtfully, wittily, and often thoroughly earnestly. It would have been interesting to hear, amid the earnestness, and the exalted talk of advertising that rises to the level of art, some philosophizing on where all this branding and selling gets us, in an age when it’s hard to deny that breakneck consumption is having a somewhat deleterious effect on the planet. Or to learn from these creatives whether there were any ad campaigns they wouldn’t touch, such as one centered on nuclear energy, or the reelection of George W. Bush. After all, many of the interviewees come across as shaggy ex-hippies and liberals. (Last fall, trade paper the Denver Egotist referred to “the entire creative world uniting against John McCain in support of Barack Obama” in a piece on Goodby, Silverstein-made anti-McCain spots that the agency cofounders reportedly underwrote personally.) Still, the film is successful in humanizing and developing a richer picture of a vilified profession. And what it reveals about the visions of its subjects (one compares a good brand to someone you’d like to have over for dinner; another asserts that “great advertising makes food taste better”; another that “you can manufacture any feeling that you want to manufacture”) makes it worth watching, even if you make a habit of fast-forwarding past the ads.

12 sweet spots

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Spring and summer are sweet seasons. Rays of sunshine and blossoming flowers make for happy eyes and noses. Why not let your tongue join in too with a sugary treat? And these desserts are sweet deals too: all 12 of these delights cost less than $5.

DYNAMO DOUGHNUTS


Start the morning off sugar-rich right with a ring of wonder from Dynamo Doughnuts. Every light, airy doughnut at the streetside outpost is delicious, from the simple vanilla bean to the complex seasonal flavor combinations like huckleberry with Meyer lemon frosting. But the gooey caramel that tops the caramel del sol is to die for.

2760 24th St., SF. (415) 920-1978; www.dynamosf.com

BITTERSWEET


Mochas at Bittersweet are great. This is a fact. But here’s a secret: they also make their own marshmallows, which are incredible when eaten alone. This confectionary delight will send a dusting of powdered sugar all over you as the air-light marshmallow melts in your mouth. Never again will Jet-Puff suffice.

2123 Fillmore, SF. (415) 346-8715; 5427 College, Oakland, (510) 654-7159; www.bittersweetcafe.com

MITCHELL’S


Never mind the cones and cups, at famous ice creamery Mitchell’s, the sandwiches will give double the sweet delight. After sampling a few flavors — like toasted almond Mexican chocolate, and green tea — pick a favorite and have it shmooshed it between two Otis Spunkmeyer chocolate chip cookies.

688 San Jose, SF. (415) 648-2300; www.mitchellsicecream.com

TCHO


For a truly life changing experience, get a shot of the drinking chocolate at the Tcho pier outpost. If you don’t have a keen eye, the little retail space, adjacent to the factory where the delicate fair-traded chocolate is made, is easy to miss. But the powerful, decadent drinking chocolate is so buoyant with flavor — notes of citrus and nut — that it’s impossible to forget. In fact, I almost couldn’t stand to swallow it. I wanted that silky chocolate in my mouth forever.

Pier 17, SF. (415) 981-0189, www.tcho.com

MARA’S


If I had an Italian grandmother, I imagine that her kitchen would be something like Mara’s, where the windows overflow with cookies and croissants and fading posters of the motherland covered the walls. Her cannoli would be the perfect mix of decadent, but not overly sweet, ricotta filling with the occasional chocolate chip and crisp sand-colored crust. Good thing I can slide up to North Beach to enjoy Mara’s cannoli as a grandma substitute.

503 Columbus, SF. (415) 397-9435

JUST FOR YOU CAFE


When I need a sweet finger-lickin, stomach-filling something, I settle down on a stool at Southern food joint Just for You Cafe and order a plate of beignets. Not quite as satisfying as the puffs at New Orleans’ Café du Nord, but still deep-fried powdered sugar drowned squares of down-home goodness.

732 22nd St., SF. (415) 647-3033, www.justforyoucafe.com

KARA’S CUPCAKES


While we’re all a little bored of the Carrie Bradshaw cupcakers, sometimes a little cake with frosting is simply necessary. Pretty pink Marina cupcake boutique Kara’s Cupcakes has a delicious selection. The rich espresso-buttercream-frosted java cupcake is delightful.

3249 Scott, SF. (415) 536-2253, www.karascucpakes.com

THE CANDY STORE


A big smile (and maybe a wink) will get you a sample from one of the glass jars filled with goodies that line the walls of the Candy Store in Russian Hill. Bubble-gum balls, gummy bears, licorice, malted milk balls, snowcaps, whatever your candy craving may be, the Candy Store has. Just be careful — this is a child’s dream world and snatching a cantaloupe-sized rainbow lollipop out of the hands of a wide-eyed tyke won’t go over so well with the shop girl.

1507 Vallejo, SF. (415) 921-8000, www.thecandystoresf.com

1507 VALLEJO, SF. (415) 921-8000, WWW.THECANDYSTORESF.COM

SCHUBERT’S BAKERY


The long glass case that runs the length of Schubert’s Bakery in the Richmond District displays the most delectable selection of cakes I’ve ever seen. The bakery has been a city institution for almost a century, and I have no doubt it’s because life is incomplete without their currant mousse and classic cheesecake.

521 Clement, SF. (415) 752-1580, www.schuberts-bakery.com

MIETTE


For French treats in an English garden-inspired atmosphere, the madeleines at Miette can’t be beat. The tiny fluffy, moist, shell-shaped cakes are delightful when paired with cappuccinos or tea, and may induce a Proustian awakening after a long, tiring day.

2109 Chestnut, SF. (415) 359-0628, www.miette.com

COCOLUXE


Truffles are a standard luxury, one not often married to sleek and slightly cheeky design. Haight Street chocolate shop CocoLuxe dusts the top of each of their ganache truffles with a little picture that tells the flavor — from teapots and angels to gingerbread men and oranges. Best enjoyed while kicking back in one of the white retro chairs in the mod space.

1673 Haight, SF. (415) 367-4012, www.coco-luxe.com

EGGETTES


When willing to go further afield — both in culinary palate and location — the cream-filled, egg-shaped waffles at Eggettes are worth the adventure. Hong Kongers eat eggettes, a popular street food served in paper bags punched with holes, for breakfast. I can’t handle the pastel-drowned Easter-egg interior of the Sunset District shop before 10 a.m., but certainly enjoy the warm puffs as an afternoon snack.

3136 Noriega, SF. (415) 681-8818, www.sfeggettes.com

Splurge and save

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We often find ourselves at a crossroads between what we want to eat and what we can afford to eat. I want champagne and caviar, but I settle for beer and a tuna sandwich. I want stuffed quail, but I buy a rotisserie chicken. Given the economy, there is something about splurging on food that seems almost inappropriate. These are uncertain times, when everyone is trying to save money and even the most extravagant are keeping an eye on the size of their wallets. In the hierarchy of oxymorons, "cost-effective splurge" ranks up there with Microsoft Works, compassionate conservative, and Gov. Schwarzenegger.

We live in a city where the average meal cost is $38.70, according to the most recent Zagat survey, and the price of a splurge can land well into the three digits. Even so, treating yourself to good food doesn’t necessarily mean an orgy of excessive expenditure. And if you spend your money wisely, you’ll find that even in a city as expensive as ours, great dining deals can be found — even if your cravings are more Niman Ranch and your budget more Oscar Meyer. The following are some tips on how to get the most out of your money when you treat yourself to a gourmet meal on the town.

1. BYOB. The cardinal rule of smart splurging is to bring your own alcohol. Alcohol has a notoriously exorbitant mark-up at restaurants, but some restaurants allow you to BYOB for a small corkage fee or, even better, for free. Anchor Oyster Bar (579 Castro, SF. 415-431-3990, www.anchoroysterbar.com), Indigo (687 McAllister, SF. 415-673-9353, www.indigorestaurant.com), and PlumpJack Cafe (3127 Fillmore, SF. 415-563-4755, www.plumpjack.com) never charge corkage. Some restaurants will comp corkage one or more nights of the week. Laiola (2031 Chestnut, SF. 415-346-5641, www.laiola.com) has free corkage on Mondays, Zazie (941 Cole, SF. 415-564-5332, www.zaziesf.com) on Tuesdays, and Alamo Square Seafood Grill (803 Fillmore, SF. 415-440-2828, www.alamosquareseafoodgrill.com) on Wednesdays.

2. Parlay happy hour. Bars and restaurants regularly offer great deals in that dead-zone between 4 p.m. and 7 p.m., a time I fondly refer to as "lunchtime." At Andalu (3198 16th St., SF. 415-621-2211), Tuesday happy hour means $1 ahi tuna tacos. At Olive, (743 Larkin, SF. 415-776-9814, www.olive-sf.com) drink a perfectly mixed, classic martini for $5 on weekdays, followed by a $7 pizza large enough to split with friends. And don’t forget the tastiest of all happy hours: oysters! Happy hour oysters are $1 each at Woodhouse Fish Company (2073 Market, SF. 415-437-2722, www.woodhousefish.com) on Tuesdays, at Hog Island Oyster Company (1 Ferry Bldg, SF. 415-391-7117, www.hogislandoysters.com) on Mondays and Thursdays, and at Waterbar (399 The Embarcadero, SF. 415-284-9922, www.waterbarsf.com) on weekdays before 6pm.

3. Explore specials. Restaurants are feeling the economic downturn just as much as we are, and to usher in customers, many been offering tempting and reasonable "recession specials". Case in point: on Sunday through Thursday nights, Luna Park (694 Valencia, SF. 415-553-8584, www.lunaparksf.com) currently offers a rotating "blue plate special" priced from $10 to $12, with accompanying drink specials for $5.

4. Decide ahead. Most restaurants have online menus, and if you choose what you want before you get to the restaurant, you’ll prevent yourself from making impulse orders at the last minute.

5. Go prix fixe. At many restaurants, you can eat a delicious three-course meal for under $25 if you order off the prix fixe menu. Baker Street Bistro (2953 Baker, SF. 415-931-1475, www.bakerstbistro.com) offers a popular three course prix fixe dinner menu that includes soup, chef’s choice of an entree, and any dessert for $14.50. At Pisces (3414 Judah, SF. 415-564-2233, www.greenopia.com), start off with an organic green salad, followed by Muscovy duck leg with pear compote, and end with a crème brulée, all for $23.

6. Try lunch. According to Zagat’s San Francisco Dining Deals Guide, lunch items are generally 25 percent to 30 percent less expensive than dinner items, even if both menus are exactly the same.

7. Take a class. Give a man a fish taco and he’ll eat for a day. Teach him how to sauté a whitefish and make his own fish taco with mango salsa, and he’ll eat well for the rest of his life, plus impress his friends. Emily Dellas (www.emilydellas.com) at First Class Cooking, teaches three-course cooking classes out of her beautiful SoMa studio for $55, which covers all the ingredients. Post-cooking, you’ll sit down and eat the gourmet goodies you learned to make.

8. Go ethnic. Dining at ethnic restaurants is a great way to eat sumptuously without spending every penny in your pocket, since hole-in-the-wall places are almost always better than the expensive versions. Shalimar (532 Jones, SF. 415-776-4642, www.shalimarsf.com) is easily one of the best Indian restaurants in San Francisco, and most entrees on the menu are under $5 (BYOB). With prices like that, you can justify heading up the street afterward to The Hidden Vine (620 Post, SF. 415-674-3567, www.thehiddenvine.com) for some chocolate truffles and a glass of wine.

Get juiced

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culture@sfbg.com

I hate the Master Cleanse.

Fighting against our bodies to make them do what we want is counterproductive. Instead, if you cultivate better communication with your body’s needs and reward yourself when it does what you want, you’ll find you’re more in control of your health.

Detoxing can be a beneficial part of doing this, and I have reaped many benefits from raw vegan detoxes. But contrary to popular belief, I think the Master Cleanse does exactly the opposite.

For those who don’t know, the Master Cleanse is a program in which you drink a concoction of water, lemon, maple syrup, cayenne pepper, and sea salt — exclusively — for anywhere from three to 30 days. The cleanse was recently made popular stars like Beyonce as a last-minute way to look good on the red carpet. But some experts say that the cleanse can do more harm than good.

One issue, says Carolynn Kraskouskas, owner and operator of Be Whole Again! Bodywork and Nutritional Therapy (Be Whole Again!, 3150 18th Street Mlbx 511, Suite 536, SF; www.bewholeagain.net), is that cleansing is supposed to allow your organs to rest and rebuild themselves. But the average person doesn’t eat a healthy enough diet to sustain itself during the Master Cleanse. Therefore the diet creates a system where the body doesn’t think you will treat it right, throwing the internal balance off. “For most people who are sick, run-down, tired, or stressed out, it simply stresses the system out more, creating inflammation and a rise in the pH of a person,” she said. This can create an acidic environment that, she says, is the basis for all disease.

So what’s the alternative? Many experts recommend raw juice cleansing or fasting. (Juice is considered raw when it comes from fresh fruits and vegetables, never frozen or pasteurized.) Some say a juice fast can diminish the ill effects of fatigue, skin issues, headaches, insomnia, weight loss and gain, and more.

But what of the lemons used in the Master Cleanse? Cherie Calbom, the “Juice Lady” on Raw Vegan radio (www.rawveganradio.com) admits these do provide some pH regulation and antioxidants, but not enough to deal with the amount of toxins being released during the cleanse. “If you don’t have antioxidants to bind to those toxins, they can do tissue damage,” she says. “Vegetable juice fasting is a much healthier way to go. Antioxidants bind the toxins and carry them out of the body.”

The toughest part about a raw juice fast is that the juice is extremely perishable and should be drunk immediately. There are steps you can take to store fresh juice for up to 24 hours, but, as you can imagine, this could be a full-time job. We’ve assembled a list of places in the city that can help you maintain a healthy juice fast while still having a life. Some places, like Juicey Lucy’s, even provide personal consultations to determine the best cleanse for you and then deliver a full, raw, seasonal, organic juice cleanse to your door three days a week. And don’t forget that even if you’re not fasting, fresh juices are a healthy — and delicious — addition to any diet.

(For more specific information on juice fasting, visit our Pixel Vision blog at www.sfbg.com/blogs/Pixel_Vision.)

Juice Resources

Cafe Del Soul 247 Shoreline Hwy, Mill Valley. (415) 388-1852, www.cafedelsoul.net

Cafe Gratitude 2400 Harrison, SF. (415) 830-3014; 1336 9th Ave, SF. (415) 683-1346; 1730 Shattuck, Berk. (510) 725-4418; 230 Bay Place (in Whole Foods), Oakl. (510) 250-7779, www.cafegratitude.com

Cafe Venue 218 Montgomery, SF. (415) 989-1144, www.cafevenue.com

Estela’s Fresh Sandwiches 250 Fillmore, SF. (415) 864-1850

Frapez 4092 18th St., SF. (415) 503-1323, www.frapez.com

Herbivore 983 Valencia, SF. (415) 826-5657; 531 Divisadero, SF. (415) 885-7133; 2451 Shattuck, Berk., (510) 665-1675

Judahlicious 3906 Judah, SF. (415) 665-8423, www.judahlicious.com

Juicey Lucy’s market stand at Noe Valley’s farmers market on Saturday and Kaiser Permanente’s Geary Street farmers market on Wednesday; 703 Columbus, SF. (415) 786-1285, www.juiceylucys.com

The Plant Cafe Organic 3352 Steiner, SF. (415) 931-2777,www.theplantcafe.com Power Source Juice Bar 81 Fremont, SF. (415) 896-1312, www.powersourcecafe.com

Raw Energy Organic Juice and Café 2050 Addison, Berk. (510) 665-9464, www.rawenergy.net

Sidewalk Juice 3287 21st St., SF. (415) 341-8070

 

SFIFF: 52 pick-up

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cheryl@sfbg.com

In early April, a long-range rocket blasted off from deepest, darkest North Korea; according to a Reuters.com news report, the communist country claimed that its satellite was "launched into orbit and [is now] circling the Earth transmitting revolutionary songs." Um, yeah. Most folks say the rocket failed — and that its real purpose was to test North Korea’s dropping-warheads-on-our-enemies capabilities. Recent rumors of ill health aside, North Korea’s Kim Jong-il appeared shortly after the incident to mark his re-election as the chairman of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea’s National Defense Commission.

As scary as it is to imagine the pompadored, isolationist "Great Leader" with his mitts on nukes, to focus on North Korea’s threat to the outside world takes away from the atrocities committed within its borders, against its own citizens. As NC Heikin’s quietly terrifying Kimjongilia reveals, the dictator’s country is a cruel, brutal place. The doc features interviews with North Korean refugees whose tales of escape are as harrowing as their recollections of life back home — a place where simply listening to music from a capitalist country or dropping a newspaper with a photograph of Kim on the floor were infractions that could mean imprisonment for three generations of a single family. Starvation, torture, and constant fear factor into nearly every story; families are separated, and even those who escape struggle, such as a woman whose "freedom" in China translated into years of sex slavery. For these people, WMDs are the least of their concerns.

Peering beyond what’s obvious is a theme at the 52nd San Francisco International Film Festival, with a slate that’s particularly doc-heavy. For every gesture that’s a little debatable (you can spin that Francis Ford Coppola directing award however you want, but Apocalypse Now came out in 1979, and 2007’s Youth Without Youth sucked), there are many that deserves high praise: groundbreaking local documentarian Lourdes Portillo receiving the Golden Gate Persistence of Vision Award, for example. Read on for the Guardian‘s coverage of this year’s fest, and keep watching the skies.

KIMJONGILIA

May 3, 3:30 p.m.; May 6, 3:15 p.m., Sundance Kabuki

May 4, 6:30 p.m., PFA


THE 52ND SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL runs April 23–May 7. Main venues are the Sundance Kabuki, 1881 Post, SF; Castro, 429 Castro, SF; Pacific Film Archive, 2575 Bancroft, Berk; and Clay, 2261 Fillmore, SF. Satellite venues are Premier Theater, Letterman Digital Arts Center, Bldg. B, One Letterman Drive, Presidio, SF; and Roxie, 3117 16th St, SF. Tickets (most shows $12.50; special programs vary) and additional information at www.sffs.org.

More: Reviews, interviews, and more SFIFF 52 coverage on the Pixel Vision blog as the festival unfolds.

Bruno’s Pizzeria Cucina

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paulr@sfbg.com

What do pizza and jazz have in common? Why, two z’s, of course — the pair of identical twins that also appears in such exciting words as nozzle, nizzle, pizzle, pazzo, and cazzo. Put these all together and shout them from the rooftops and you’ll have quite a riff, if not quite a jazz riff. For music, play ZZ Top. Then run from the obscenity police.

Other than that, pizza and jazz go together like … well, they don’t actually go together. There is no connection I know of. Nonetheless, our drastically refurbished jazz district, along Fillmore south of Geary, now has a creditable pizzeria to go along with the fancier places across the street, Yoshi’s and 1300 Fillmore. The pizzeria is called Bruno’s and, in a most un-Italian development, is unrelated to the Mission District old-timer of the same name. Old Bruno’s has had enough facelifts to rival Phyllis Diller. New Bruno’s, on the other hand, is new — with freshly painted reddish-brown walls, nicely upholstered booths, a gleaming bar against a far wall, a showy kitchen, and jazz memorabilia everywhere, the walls laden with portraits and plaques.

In Europe, jazz has long appealed to the French more than the Italians, but Bruno’s, despite these musical festoonings, is Italian to its core, right down to the patrone, Claudius Oliveira (owner of several other Italian restaurants in northern California, many in the East Bay) who circulates through the dining room, shaking hands and checking, and the service staff with their winsome accents. The cultural flavor is very much that of Little Italy, and part of its beguiling spell is to intensify the experience of the food.

Pizzerias aren’t generally known for their grace notes, but Bruno’s offers several. To begin, there’s the basket of marvelous garlic bread, which is not only flavorful but of a brioche-like tenderness and plumpness. Tasty bread so often exacts a steep price in crustiness and toughness, but not this stuff. Even if you couldn’t eat it, you’d be happy enough just feeling it with your fingers. But you will eat it, and then they bring you more, along with an amuse-bouche — a little ramekin of roasted red pepper soup, say, with a broad hint of cayenne kick. One is typically afforded this type of treatment only when ordering seven-course tasting menus at much starchier places.

Given the slight sports-bar aura, it isn’t surprising to find that the list of appetizers includes buffalo wings ("Texas style"), along with a parade of goodies from the deep fryer, among them calamari and zucchini sticks. But a better choice might be the drunken prawns ($10.95), spiked with tequila.

There is both an Aloha and a Hawaii 5.0 pizza, both with pineapple. Fruit (tomatoes excepted) does not belong on pizza, but pepperoni does, sausage does, salami too, and you’ll get all that and more with the signature Bruno’s special ($14.99 for a 14-incher), along with bell peppers, onions, mushroom slices, and a sprightly tomato sauce.

Most noticeable is the crust, which bucks the current trend toward thinness and crispiness: It’s big, puffy, and bready in true old-school California style. Although I prefer thinner crusts for a variety of reasons — a thin crust doesn’t distract from the toppings but does provide a discreet, pleasurable crackle — there is a case to be made for the more billowy kind. Such a crust does make any pizza look bigger and so, perhaps, enhances one’s perception of value, no small matter in shrinking times.

A nice bonus: if you show up in a ZipCar, you get 10 percent off. And ZipCar has only one Z!

BRUNO’S PIZZERIA CUCINA

Sun.–Thurs., 11 a.m.–midnight

Fri.–Sat., 11–2 a.m.

1375 Fillmore, SF

(415) 563-6300

www.sfbrunos.com

Full bar

AE/DS/MV/V

Noisy

Wheelchair accessible

Sonic Reducer Overage: Silversun Pickups, Bloc Party, Atmosphere, Kylesa, free shows, and so much more

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Manic panic: Silversun Pickups’ “Panic Switch.”

Lucky you, you aren’t broiling in the desert at Coachella – you’re keeping your cool in SF, and boy, you’ve got a lot to keep your bad self outta trouble. So partake in the Coachella spillover – and then some…

Intelligence
“Icky Baby” is in the eye of the beholder – and the mind of the Intelligence, those hard-driving, gristly lo-fi smarty-pants. With Thee Oh Sees and Ty Segall. Fri/17, 9 p.m., $8. Annie’s Social Club, 917 Folsom, SF. (415) 974-1585.

Loop!Station
Loops, vocals, and cello are Robin Coomer’s and Sam Bass’ tools, arriving now with a new CD.
Fri/17, 8 and 10 p.m., $10. Yoshi’s, 1330 Fillmore, SF. (415) 655-5600.

Film Festival 52

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Innovative docs, fractured fairy tales, Disney ditties, dinosaurs, and at least one scene-stealing camel highlight the Fest’s fifty-second year. Our critics take a peek at some of the more buzz-worthy entries below.

THE 52ND SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL runs April 23–May 7. Main venues are the Sundance Kabuki, 1881 Post, SF; Castro, 429 Castro, SF; Pacific Film Archive, 2575 Bancroft, Berk; and Clay, 2261 Fillmore, SF. Satellite venues are Premier Theater, Letterman Digital Arts Center, Bldg. B, One Letterman Drive, Presidio, SF; and Roxie, 3117 16th St, SF. Tickets (most shows $12.50; special programs vary) and additional information at www.sffs.org.

>>52 pick-up
SFIFF rides again, with a quietly terrifying North Korea doc
By Cheryl Eddy

>>In the realms of the real
Sacred Places and Z32 — SFIFF’s unconventional docs
By Max Goldberg

>>Unhappily ever after
The film fest’s fractured, freaky, and feminist fantasies
By Kimberly Chun

>>Oaktown fugue
Everything Strange and New: stillness interrupted
Lynn Rapoport

>>Tune Boom
SFIFF’s catchy ditties and dino-riffs
By Dennis Harvey

>>Shots in the dark
Our short, sharp takes on other SFIFF flicks

Green living resource guide

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Living green is not just about buying organic vegetables and riding a bike. It’s about making conscious choices about where you shop, what you buy, and how you interact with your environment. Here are some resources that can help you align your lifestyle with your values.

Down at Home: Greening your domestic life starts with revising your habits, but the next step is revising your actual surroundings. A consultation from the folks at Sustainable Spaces (1167 Mission, SF. 415-294-5380, www.sustainablespaces.com) will identify the areas where you can make the most substantial difference. You can pick up green building supplies, like bamboo flooring or zero-VOC paint, from the savvy staff at Berkeley’s Eco Home Improvement (2169 San Pablo, Berk. 510-644-3500, www.ecohomeimprovement.com). Also consider leasing a solar panel from Solar City (2245 Quesada, SF. 800-765-2489, www.solarcity.com), a company that will come out and install a solar panel on your house. (You don’t have to put any money down and the lease may be less then your monthly utility bill.)

In the Bag: Shopping is a fact of life. We all need to clothe and feed ourselves. Opt organic where you can. For green threads, from jeans and tees to sexy slipdresses, shop crisp Russian hill boutique EcoCitizen (1488 Vallejo, SF. 415-614-0100, www.ecocitizenonline.com). Fill the fridge with locally sourced and organic food from eco-thoughtful co-op Rainbow Grocery (1745 Folsom, SF. 415-863-0620, www.rainbowgrocery.org) or natural market Real Foods (2140 Polk, SF. 415-673-7420; 360 Fillmore, SF. 415-567-6900, www.realfoodco.com).

On the Street: We live in a bike-friendly city, and the folks at Valencia Cyclery (1077 Valencia, SF. 415-550-6600) are stoked to put you on spokes. If you still drive, drive green. Take your car to the friendly mechanics at clean, inviting Luscious Garage (429 Clementina, SF. 415-875-9030, www.lusciousgarage.com), where broken auto parts are recycled and all invoices are digitized to save paper. Fill the tank with locally produced biofuel at Dogpatch Biofuels (765 Pennsylvania, SF. 415-643-3435, www.dogpatchbiofuels.com).

Skin and Soul: Stock up on health and wellness info, vitamin supplements, and chemical-free skincare products at Clary Sage Organics (2241 Fillmore, SF. 415-673-7300, www.clarysageorganics.com). If facials are your beauty indulgence of choice, go for an organic option at Epi Center MedSpa (450 Sutter, Ste 800, SF. 415-362-4754, www.skinrejuv.com), which is housed in a lovely, LEED certified space. Find focus and balance—and at mat made of recycled materials—at The Yoga Loft (321 Divisadero, SF. 415-626-5638, www.theloftsf.com).

Out and About: You don’t have to eat at Café Gratitude to dine green. Check out Thimmakka (www.thimmakka.org), an organization which helps restaurants and bars — most of them small, independently owned, and ethnic — become more eco-friendly. Thimmakka maintains a list of places they’ve certified, including San Miguel’s (3263 Mission, SF. 415-641-5866) delicious Guatamalan cuisine and Elixir’s (3200 16th St., SF. 415-522-1633, www.elixirsf.com) organic cocktails. Then shake your booty on the dance floor at Temple (540 Howard, SF. www.templesf.com), where the owner is so committed to being environmentally friendly that he’s working on a way to harness dancers’ energy to power the place. Catch a flick at Red Vic Movie House (1727 Haight, SF. 415-668-3914, www.redvicmoviehouse.com) a co-op that offers organic snacks.

Giving back: Support small businesses who are trying to be greener by using a Viv sticker (sign up at www.doyouviv.com). Every time you show it to a participating local shop or eatery, you’ll push the business to shift to greener cleaning products or energy efficient lights.

Appetite: Free pancakes, Lower Haight French, Little Skillet, twice the Woodhouse, and more

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littleskill0409a.jpg
Farmerbrown’s leaps from the frying pan into Little Skillet

As long-time San Francisco resident and writer, I’m passionate about this city and obsessed with exploring its best food-and-drink spots, events and news, in every neighborhood and cuisine type. I have my own personalized itinerary service and monthly food/drink/travel newsletter, The Perfect Spot, and am thrilled to share up-to-the minute news with you from the endless goings-on in our fair city.

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NEW RESTAURANT OPENINGS

Little Skillet: Chicken & Waffles from a walk-up alley window in SoMa
Farmerbrown’s
is about to open Little Skillet in a SoMa alley at 330 Ritch. It’s a walk-up window offering morning pleasures like biscuit sandwiches loaded with cheese, egg, housemade sausage or bacon, plus Oyster Po’Boys, and one of my favorites in comfort food: Chicken and waffles (from Petaluma Poultry chickens) for breakfast and lunch. Lucky, those who work nearby! Cento, neighboring alley Blue Bottle coffee-source, also sells box lunches of Little Skillet’s food. Initial hours are supposed to be Monday–Friday, 8am–3pm, open later as baseball season progresses. No strikes here!
330 Ritch
415-777-2777

www.littleskilletsf.com

Woodhouse Fish Co… Part Deux
When I want a Crab Salad (aka mountain of fresh crabmeat) with fresh lemons, Anchor Steam-battered Fish & Chips or a buttery Lobster Roll without waiting in line at the great Swan Oyster or paying Waterbar prices, Woodhouse Fish Co. fits the bill perfectly. Old seafaring movies on the wall, like 1935’s “Mutiny on the Bounty”, pair nicely with hanging squids and tackle. Up till now, it’s been the Castro locale but with a brand new, larger space on Fillmore, there’s more than one way to assuage New England seafood hankerings.
1914 Fillmore Street
415-437-2722

www.woodhousefish.com

Bistro Saint Germain delivers French flair to Lower Haight
Le P’tit Laurent owner, Laurent Legendre, with chef Eliseo Soto Dimos, debuted Parisian bistro fare to Lower Haight this weekend with Bistro Saint Germain. If you want a change of pace from Lower Haight’s curry houses and sandwich shops, here you can dine on French classics like bistro-style mussels, salads, escargots and boeuf bourguignon. Legendre makes quick friends in the ‘hood by offering Le P’tit’s popular steal of a prix-fixe: 3-courses for $19.95, Sunday through Thursday.
518 Haight Street
415-626-6262

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WINE COUNTRY OPENINGS

Napa’s new green winery from Plumpjack: Cade Winery
Think what you will of our Mayor and his Plumpjack enterprise, it doesn’t hurt that Plumpjack, Gavin and Gordon Getty (helps to have friends with connections), opened an out-of-the-way winery for your next day trip to Napa. Impress friends with an intriguing drive up Howell Mountain to new Cade Winery, a solar powered, green winery with cave tours and lush, hillside views. After a tour, sip a glass of wine by roaring fireplaces (if it’s chilly) or rushing waterfalls overlooking the Valley on brilliant Wine Country days. It’s appointment-only for a tour or tasting (prices vary) which means you have to plan ahead, but it’ll keep out the tour bus riff-raff.
360 Howell Mountain Road South
Angwin CA, 94508
707-965-2746
www.cadewinery.com

neela0409a.jpg
Neely welcomes you to Napa

Bollywood and Indian flavors come to Napa
Neela Paniz, cookbook author and Indian chef, spices up downtown Napa with something it doesn’t have: an Indian restaurant. From Chota Haazari (starters) to Haazari (mains) and Mitha (desserts), Neela’s certainly has a California fresh, local touch (who doesn’t these days?) to home-style recipes like mini dosas with mango chutney, curries, tandoor Cornish hen and Lasoon Jhinga (shrimp with garlic, green chiles and mustard seeds). The plan is to have Bollywood music videos liven up the bar as you down a Kingfisher beer or glass of wine (it is, after all, Napa).
975 Clinton Avenue
Napa, CA 94559
707-226-9988

www.neelasnapa.com

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DEALS

A week full of deals at Cassis Restaurant
Cassis Restaurant
, a couple blocks off Fillmore Street, does right by French bistro classics like Pissaladiere (Nicoise Carmelized Onion Tart), with service that’s charming, attentive, and oh, so French. Their weekly deals are many… and hard to resist. First, the bar’s happy hour (5:30–6:30pm) has two-for-one beers plus discounted wines and cocktails. Bring-A-Friend-Tuesdays means 15% off your total food and drink bill with a table of four or more (assuming those are friends you brought, right?) Wine Wednesdays offers no corkage (a two bottle max) or if you decide to buy a bottle off the menu, it’s 25% off. Sweet Thursdays is for the sweet-tooth: order two entrees, get two-for-one desserts. Only caveat? You can’t combine with the $25 Early Dinner Special (Sun-Thu, 5:30-7pm, 3-course prix-fixe).
2101 Sutter Street
415-440-4500
www.restaurantcassis.com

Free pancake Saturdays once a month at El Rio
El Rio
is one generous bar to serve free pancakes from the griddle every third Saturday of the month. Further cool points won by calling it “Rock Softly and Carry a Big Spatula“. Curing all that ails after Friday night, breakfast is kindly served at 1pm, so after you’ve rolled out of bed and wandered over, ease into wakefulness with soft rock and hot flapjacks. Wear the “funkiest kitchen couture” and you could win their Golden Apron honors. With a free meal, it’s easy to feed the tradition with generous tips.
Free

3rd Saturdays, 1-3pm

3158 Mission Street

415-282-3325
www.elriosf.com