Luella—Neighborhood Joint Does Good? Let's See.

Be sure to get a table by the window...
Where the action is

I suppose I’m a bit of a bait and switch kind of blog. My friend Sue told me to not just write up recipes, but to tell the stories of my travels behind the food–beyond the experiences of eating. She’s kinds right, they’re a bit more interesting than the food I make sometimes.

That’s because Sue has traveled with me before. San Diego, San Antonio…San Fran. So, Sue, this one’s for you…

Who starts a dinner with Butternut and acorn squash ribbons with sea salt and parsley? Well, what I most appreciated about this little amuse bouche was that the waiter’s assistant whose first language was clearly not English knew how to explain this treat that arrived unannounced better than the waiter.

Bread–as you’ll see most of my reviews tend to focus a bit too heavy on the quality of the bread that they bring to the table–this bread is San Fran sourdough and is that rather ideal combo of chew with sour and an unexpected yeasty pull on the teeth. The Italians have an expression you’ve probably heard–”al dente”–and that’s how bread is supposed to affect you. If the aroma should hit you in the wrong way if the feeling on the teeth is wrong, well, then it really doesn’t succeed. Is this the magic Acme Baking Company bread I’ve heard so much about??? Nope, my man says it’s pain batarde from Pinky’s bakery here in San Francisco.

I ordered the Mon-Thurs prix fixe

I ordered the Mon-Thurs prix fixe: $50 for three courses and three wines, none of which were on the main menu. I couldn’t have ordered these wines by the glass, and so I was hoodwinked into trying the prix fixe. I’ll be honest, I neither needed a dessert, nor wanted one, but I figured….when in Rome…And wines here are $8-$15 per glass, so this is a bargain, given where we are.

I will confess, I was more than a little suspicious. The white was something I just couldn’t commit to without tasting it first. And yes, as you read this blog, you’ll see that this too is a running theme with me–tasting before I buy. Is it the right thing to do? Well, many friends think it’s because I want to squeeze the restaurant for more hooch. This couldn’t be further from the truth. At any rate, the waiter who was a tad exasperated with me not being able to make up my mind on the choices of wine, just brought me a taste to probably shut me up. Well, it worked. I was smitten with a Languedoc blended wine– these wines usually do much less than enthuse me. I’m a terribly picky wine drinker, so the surprise was appreciated and valued.

My white wine came before the starter…a fragrant Picpoul/Grenache Blanc/Rousanne, perhaps?

The radicchio, romaine, and watercress salad seemed on the page to be a dull choice, but hell, it was included and the greens couldn’t hurt, so….

radicchio, romaine, and watercress salad

It comes in a soup bowl and except for the gorgonzola and the play with the red wine vinegar, well, I was really delighted that the flavors worked. Seemed a little glossy with oil but the taste was solid. An oddly simple chopped salad with walnuts to give it a classy edge made the whole thing seem understated and simple. Like Grandma could have made it, but didn’t. Could have been pine nuts, pistachios, but they used walnuts. Nice touch.

Sitting up against the window overlooking the street as the cable cars come whipping down the hill as they passed clang-clang thru the intersection of Hyde and Green Streets. The sounds of the streets filter past as my street-side window sits open–and the night and the flickering candles lights. And oh!!! So I’m sitting there, having dinner alone, as I often do when traveling for work or this blog.

And the guy who just walked up to the woman from the upper east side recently transplanted to San Francisco for her job. He’d not met her before. She seemed reticent to meet him. I think this was a J-date, and she didn’t like what he looked like. But the bar at this restaurant is obviously the place to sit for entertainment, and she seemed to be warming up to him.

She liked that he has a serious job. Man, she is interviewing him for reals. But if you are alone in the city–great seat right in the window at the edge of the bar. Get a table before 7pm, and the place is silent. Yelp has panned the noisiness of the place, but I was able to hear ever word of all the table mates around me. It was fine on a Wednesday–so their conversation was more interesting than most.

And on a warm night–the three nights that they have warm weather each year in San Francisco–the outside seating was hopping.

a fragrant Picpoul/Grenache Blanc/Rousanne, perhaps?

Oh man, that lady from J-date, her convo is juicy. She is telling me–uh…I mean him–everything about her life. And he’s doing his best to keep up. ‘bless. I like the timbre of his voice. This could work if she stops badgering him with questions about his job and how hard he works.

So, not that you’ve asked but the salad: as I finished it, I noticed how I felt it was both oily and yet tasty. Was that walnut oil? I think it must have been…or they infused the dressing with walnuts. It was a light, lively starter. I suppose you’ll see that I’m a greens person rather than a fried calamari person. So don’t roll your eyes when hear me raving about salad…a great salad is hard to find. Luella makes a quality green starter.

OK, so really, I was at a loss for words, and couldn’t make up my mind from the many choices, so I told the waiter coca cola braised pork shoulder for dinner. Coca cola braised pork shoulder for dinner???? Over white bean puree? Well, it has an edge as well. A sweetness with a sharpnes, maybe bitter? I haven’t had this flavor before. Perhaps I need to spend more time in ATL–home of the eponymous soda.

Coca Cola Braised Pork Shoulder, A Thing of Beauty

The pork shoulder came with the shooting star Pinot Noir–some of you will know this red. It was is a reliable Pinot from California that doesn’t break the bank. It’s nice with pork no doubt, but the interplay with the coca-cola is refreshingly different. It almost brings out the coke flavor. Which is just plain odd, but I’m excited by the very notion. (I don’t recommend doing this at home!!!!) I love the way the pork sits on white bean puree as if it’s mashed potatoes. The puree is the ideal accompaniment for me, because I’m not a potato person…

Ah ha!!! It’s not parsley they’ve chopped over the top of this entree. It’s chopped mint. mint!!!! That explains the depth, the levels. This meal is scaffolding–one flavor is scaffolding on the other, so the coca-cola isn’t suffocating the dish. According to tonight’s waiter, the chef is from Detroit, so the southern connection still needs to be elucidated.

There’s little indication that he/she is black and his/her family came with the great migration, so I’d have to pester to find out why this melange is what it is. The mint is making me think Middle Eastern and the appetizers include a pomegranate starter, so perhaps it’s a fusion american middle eastern thing, though my meal feels pretty New American to me. Between the cable cars, the special food elements, the neon chic feel, the couple that is no getting along particularly well (BTW, he also lived in the area around central park) I think that the place is a hit. Even though it’s not packed–at 7:43, the crowd on a Wednesday is enough to keep the place in fine fettle.

About the Shooting Star Pinot Noir: It’s not leaving legs in the glass, so it doesn’t appear to be heavy on the alcohol; however, I’m assuming it must be fairly high in alcohol. The licorice is intense after about the fifth sip, and I like the way it plays off the sweeter flavors that evolve over the course of the entree. My sense is that if this glass were served on it’s own it’d run about ten bucks–maybe eleven. The thrust of my comment here is that when you see a prix fixe wine meal coming at you, be discerning about what they’re throwing your way. Prix fixe is chic in Europe. It can be total shite in America. You need to not be a ripped off customer feeling chic, but living as a ripped off tourist in San Francisco.

In the end, I wish that this posting was later on my blog, not so early on. The complexity that this meal provides requires a lot more detail, a lot more time to develop.

It’s one thing to put out recipes and advice on making meals that you can serve to folks who are otherwise unlikely to enjoy them without some sense that you put your bloody life into making it, I think it helps to be a connoisseur of life. When you go to the Best Buy, did you get the kind of treatment that a person spending $99 dollars a month on their cell phone plan deserved? There is no need to be a snotty bitch to know when you’ve been ripped off. It may require you to be more select and involve yourself in the dialogue with the people who “serve” you. Having said that, when it comes to food and culture (theater, movies, performance), it pays to be discerning. So when folks ask you what you thought of the play, you have a real opinion that isn’t based on that fact that you just frankly don’t like being pushed to order an entree you really didn’t want in the first place, but the waiter was so influential, I just couldn’t decide.

Luella's Fritters for..8???

OMG, she just asked him his sign. And he said January 27th, and she said, I knew it. He’s a Capricorn!!! She is a Gemini…is this going to work???? OMG, she just said, “so I take it you are a perfectionist as well?” For the record, he seems very nice.

Dessert did come. So, OK, a warning, the beignets are many. Ricotta stuffed balls of joy wrapped in loving honey…wild, I’ll bet. The essence of orange is intense…zest that’s been added into the ricotta perhaps or in the honey. It’s lovely, although enough beignets for three people.

Then the final wine came. I asked him to up-charge me for a dessert version of the Vouvray I saw on the menu. California ruined Vouvray in the seventies with the creation of the California Chenin Blanc, and no one drinks it anymore so be wise of that. However, it is foolish and unwise to follow that lead. Like that chap in the Sideways movie, Paul Giamatti, don’t underestimate the Merlot–you might just get a date out of it. I feel that Chenin, like Merlot, has a bad wrap, and just because money-hungry fools ruined their reputation, doesn’t mean the fish can’t swim.

Hmmm, is that the metaphor? Euphemism? Chenin like Alsatian Riesling or even Californian Riesling (for precise examples, see 2009 Chateau Montelena, Calistoga, CA) are blessings on the wine list that no one chooses. Luella has a dessert Chenin Blanc that is light, not cloying, and it feels low in calories, in comparison to the Six Grapes Porto from Australia that is just one of the heavy alternatives.

When you see French Vouvray, reach out and touch it. It is an experiment worth trying out…rarely does it result in Frankenstein’s bride. Usually, it’s a freshly, fruity mouthful of surprise whether it’s a dry starter wine or a quality dessert wine like the one at Luella.

Overall, Luella is the kind of place you come back to and make your own. It’s your neighborhood high-end joint, the one you take mom to. The one you have your parents take you to when you graduate.

The waiters will know you if you come here often enough, and they will greet you with a welcome that surprises in the city. By 9 p.m., on a Wednesday, all the folks in the Russian Hill area had come to fill the place to the gills. It is actually a gem in one of America’s most expensive cities. And really, if you want to impress, but feel comfortable, wouldn’t you rather do that in a place where the waiters know you.

Chic, not shabby, and not stuffy. Luella is a simple pleasure worth the trip up here on the cable car and back. Feel the San Francisco that you have in your mind from all the brochures without the plate of Rice-a-Roni. Luella’s a San Francisco treat.

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