Boulevard of Beyond Our Dreams

As L finished his last forkful of food at Boulevard the other night, he looked at me and said "that was one of our top 5 meals. Ever." High praise indeed. Particularly, for a restaurant that I dismissed not once, but twice, in my quest to find the best San Francisco dining experience.

Let me back up: In preparing for our recent vacation to San Fran and Napa, I did what I usually do: I scoured the internet searching for all the best restaurants. Who cares about the "sites?" Where will we eat? Will it be fabulous? How can I be sure? The stakes are higher now that we have child. We simply can't go to all the fabulous restaurants we want to. For this trip, we planned on getting a sitter one night in Napa and one night in San Fran. So we had one shot in San Fran to have the perfect dining experience. Obviously, finding the right restaurant is no easy task.

Based on an article on epicurious.com, I narrowed my search to two restaurants. Then L nixed one of those choices and added a pick of his own. I noticed some high praise for Boulevard in Zagat, but I didn't put it on my "A" list, instead I put it on my "B" list. Finally, L & I agreed on Spruce (mainly because I liked the cocktail menu.) Alas, although I called 2 weeks in advance, the only reservation I could get was at 5:30 or 10:30 (I thought I had misdialed and somehow reached Nobu!) Feeling dejected, I was back at aquare one.

A couple days later, I sat in my office and noticed the word "Boulevard" written on a scrap of paper and I remembered I had to make a reservation somewhere fast. L's pick was Restaurant Gary Danko. I just wasn't excited about that pick. Later, I noticed that Wine Spectator had given Restuanant Gary Danko really high marks. So, I started to get excited about the prospect of dining there. Called the restuarant, tried to make a reservation, and they essentially laughed at me. "Wow. This was going to be tough," I thought.

I went back to the Wine Spectator article. And there it was. Boulevard. It kept coming back to me. Calling me. So I went back to there website and looked at the menu. I had looked before, but it didn't grab me. The second time, however, it did. I called and they were happy, pleasant, accommodating! I asked for an 8:00 reservation on a Saturday night and she gave me 8:15!!

Later that day, I ran into a friend who spends alot of time in San Fran, and told her that I had made reservations at Boulevard. She said "oh, that's the place I was going to recommend! You'll love it!" Later still, L's cousin came over and told us he had eaten there and loved it.

So it seemed destined.

And it did not disappoint. Boulevard is a lovely restaurant with warm lighting and lush, homey (perhaps, a little dated) decor. We were thrilled to discover that they serve our favorite champagne (Billicart-Salmon Brut Rose) by the glass! Dinner was fabulous and dessert was even better. (And I have to say, the people watching rocked, too. Across from us, was a 50-something guy with a 20-something hottie, and while it was definitely not their first date, I'm pretty sure it was their first "sex" date. Behind me, was 60-something guy with a date who looked like he plucked her right out of high school. Based on her ridiculous attire, I was pretty sure she was a working girl, and a low rent one, at that.)

Was it a Top 5 meal for me? Probably not (and that list is a post for another day!) But it was excellent and memorable and a wonderful San Franscico dining experience, which is what we were after.

Ode to the Bistro

I began my love affair with French bistros in the summer of '04. I was living in Manhattan and New York the French bistro is ubiquitous, to say the least (or more specifically, steak frites, which apparently is a staple of the New Yorker's diet.). The first bistro I stumbled upon was Les Halles. A mere block from my apartment in lower Manhattan, it quickly became my Friday night regular spot. The steak frites was awesome. Ludovic, the french bartender, charmed me, but, I must say, I never grasped the significant of the hard-boiled eggs on the bar.

A few blocks away, was the legendary Odeon. That quicly became my Saturday night spot. Abdul, the handsome Morroccan bartender, kept me entertained, and I also had the good fortune of meeting Denzel Washington, while at the Odeon. But, I must say, I thought the food was better at Les Halles.

The jewel in Manhattan's bistro crown goes to Balthazar. Balthazar is breathtaking. It's got everything a good French bistro should have. Warm lighting, a beautiful room, accented with giant, gorgeous flower arrangements. And the food...amazing. Best escargot in the city. The skate wing and steak frites probably get tops in my book, too.

Since leaving New York, I have continued my love affair with the French bistro. In Atlanta, tho, we really only have one: FAB. And it is fabulous. Pistachio profiteroles? Are you kidding? Send me to heaven. I would say that we have growing list of restaurants that are more like cousins to the French bistro. Ecco, one L & my favorites, is sort of an Italian bistro. One Midtown Kitchen, sort of an American hipster cousin.

In Boston, I recently had lunch at Bouchee, a French bistro on Newbury St, and then had dinner at Aquitaine, a French bistro in the South End. Aquitaine was like a slightly gritty sister to a New York bistro.

I seek these restaurants out. In Vegas, we had dinner at Mon Ami Gabi at the Paris Hotel, so obviously that was intended to be a French bistro. Don't get me wrong, it was excellent. But in a Vegas kind of way.

We're going to Napa Valley next week. I made reservations at Bouchon (as you may recall I couldn't get into the French Laundry). We'll see how the west coast does the French bistro.