Bistro Elan
More PicturesFinally, the day we had been impatiently waiting for, the day to visit
Bistro Elan, had come.
The day started exceptionally busy: I left home fairly early, in order to bring in to the dealership, my sophisticated car whose undying rattling was making a usually sane and calm person (like me) on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Then I waddled through the driveway between the dealership’s service department and rental, with a heavy gym bag on one shoulder and on the other, a large garbage bag containing all other junk collected from the car’s backseat and trunk, only to learn of the outbreak of a loaner-car shortage.
The solution was that the “late bloomers” (that was every one coming in after 8 am) were to be taken to a contracted rental car shop a few blocks down the Boulevard.
We went through the car-rental ritual, accepting terms and declining offers. As I was ready to drive out, the service representative added, as an afterthought: by the way, Happy Birthday! (Uh? Right, it was written on my driver’s license.) What a fine way to start a birthday celebration!
As works (and breaks, if any) filled up the day, the dealership called to keep the car for further investigation (Why was I NOT surprised?). So with the rental car which made more noises than my precious, the birthday girl, notorious for her Californian driving style, offered to serve as this evening's chauffeur, so that her companion could enjoy some wine -- wasn't she unprecedentedly considerate?
With much detour hence (almost) bringing my fast u-turn and swift lane-change skills to perfection, we safely arrived at Palo Alto, 15 minutes before our reservation. We strolled down California Street, trying to act like locals, and suddenly found ourselves in front of the restaurant’s unassuming exterior that would have been easily missed had my companion not been here before.
A quarter past 6, the restaurant was already 3 quarters full, not including the patio seats. We walked in, and before the hostess greeted us, had a quick view of its modern minimalist, black-and-white décor. One food critic said that at Bistro Elan, Food is the Star. We were eager to prove the critic right.
When we were properly seated, the waiter brought over tidbits of amuse bouche: bruschetta with plump shrimp and crispy celery in a creamy dill dressing, refreshing and sustaining us during a careful study of the menu.
For appetizers, we discussed, debated and settled on foie gras and crab. A generous cut of Sonoma foie gras, sautéed and placed atop a slice of toasted brioche, was bathed in browned hazelnut oil. The tangy sweetness of caramelized orange slices and the peppery crispness of arugula leaves delicately balanced the foie gras’s richness, both in texture and in flavor. Here we took the first sip of the 2004 ''LA DIOGOINE'' rouge. Some tasting notes in June 2004 suggested flavors of little red berries, licorice and pepper in this burgundy red. But two years later, what tickled our palate was an aromatic roundness, devoid of edgy, peppery or smoky taste. This was a taste to our exact liking.
Succulent shards of fresh Dungeness crab with thin avocado slices and apple shreds, drizzled with sweet red pepper and pistachio oil, was served in a chilled deep salad bowl. Again, the outstanding texture and flavor of each ingredient mingled blissfully with one another, unfolding to the eye as well as in the mouth, a playful contrast yet a harmonic enrichment. Although being accustomed to light cooking, we both agreed the overall flavor would be much enhanced if the dish was taken with a few grains of salt (literally).
Duck confit, my all-time bistro destination dish, was served with a creamy risotto. The skin of the duck leg was crispy but not oily; however, the meat was a little bit on the dry side. Fortunately, the sauce was able to supplement it. The thyme-imbued risotto was dotted with bits of asparagus and draped with slices of pungent ricotta cheese that unfortunately overpowered the subtle flavors of fresh ingredients. This dish was good but not impressive.
As Niman Ranch steaks generate a lot of rave reviews, we by all means had to order the flatiron steak. Pan-seared skirt steak came medium-rare, fanned out at the center of the plate with a dollop of herb butter, and accompanied by sugar snap peas and fries. The meat was tender, moist, juicy; so fine that it could be enjoyed without any adornment. We worked our way through it effortlessly.
Between the duck and beef, we sipped a generous portion of the rouge. As it oxidized with time, the wine became smoother and suppler, perfect complement to both dishes. The sun began to set, casting a softer light through the ceiling window (which, unfortunately, was not good news to a green amateur photographer eager to capture every delicious moment). Breezes sent in fragrances of an early summer evening, and teased the flame of the table candle that the wait staff just lit.
No meal is complete without desserts. There were four desserts on the menu, all with fruits (This is summer!) As I was inclined for chocolate and/or coffee based desserts and would rather enjoy fruits in their original form without further manipulation, we ordered one just to pacify our palate: lemon tart, orange sorbet and fresh oranges. They came trigonometrically arranged on a square dessert plate, and when viewed at different angles, cast perfect photogenic shadows. And the portion? Take the sorbet (a 1 inch sphere) as reference, and extrapolate the size of the remaining geometric objects….
We walked out the cozy bistro, into the gentle night under the turquoise skies. Many thanks to my companion, my dear little brother, for a memorable dinner. There was one lamentation, though: why does each of us only have one birthday each year?
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Under the Roof of Pasta Pomodoro
A fine Friday afternoon found VB under the roof of Pasta Pomodoro. Under normal circumstances Pasta Pomodoro is not VB’s top choice to while away a sunny warm early summer afternoon that came after an extended wet and chilly winter followed by a 15-minute spring.
But this was not VB’s usual afternoon; it was an afternoon a) full of coughing and sneezing and itching associated with common cold and allergies, and b) when a restaurant certificate arrived via email to wish VB a happy birthday -- How could any one resist an invitation to a complementary appetizer?
Twenty minutes later and with the above justification, VB was seated in the post-modern deco of the neighborhood pasta house which VB frequents, at an odd hour between lunch and dinner -- no, they don’t serve afternoon tea -- when the restaurant was 90% empty and its wait staff had slowed down the rush hour buzz.
The new laminated menu carries the same favorites with improved prices. After the waitress took VB’s order, VB sat back, basking in both the (shaded) early June sun and Mayes' Under the Tuscan Sun.
 At the end of Acknowledgement came Focaccia and dipping sauce -- parsley, garlic, parmesan in olive oil; |
 In the middle of the 6th page arrived Cozze -- steamed clams with white wine, herbs, garlic and butter, served with grilled bread; |
 Followed by Insalata di Spinaci -- baby spinach with grilled red onions, tomatoes, pancetta, ricotta salata and walnuts. (Photo depicted VB’s improvised version: topped with clam meats and grilled bread from Cozze.) |
Room for dessert? The waitress asked. Not this time -- Did I mention that VB’s birthday is coming VERY SOON?
Update: Vongole -- linguine with manila clams and white wine sauce |
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Christmas… Gifts, Cards, and Giftcards
I love Christmas, because it comes every year, punctually and faithfully, rain or shine… We are having a rainy Christmas in Northern California this year, just like the ones I used to have in Taipei. In the days of yore when walking down the cold damp Taipei streets, my friend and I would stop once or twice or thrice, to be dazzled by the glittering Christmas decorations, to be serenaded by that enchanting Bing Crosby ----
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the treetops glisten
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow….
I always longed for a real
White Christmas! And it did come for me, when the biggest snowstorm in 10 years and
I happened to visit Boston at the same time: stores closed, subways stopped, school exams postponed. Imagine being stuck in the research lab during the holidays, accompanied by a dozen or so computers and a dozen or so donuts ---- our only foods during the confinement, once fresh from Donkin Donuts a few days ago ---- and people ask why I don’t eat donuts now?
That white Christmas taught me to be grateful for Christmases of any color, green, blue, yellow, even orange ---- we might get what we wished for, sometimes more abundantly.
Christmas is a season of giving, or as the commercial folks say, gifting! Although I go to the malls, touch the merchandise, and wait in the lines, I haven’t done serious Christmas shopping for ages ---- what would you give to someone who has everything he needs, and does not want anything he does not need? And because we always get out of town during the holidays, decoration is by default kept to a minimum; i.e., none.
But this year, VB household undergoes a revolutionary makeover, when an exceptional gift ---- a set of three stocking holders ---- arrived right after Thanksgiving. The fact that not only did the dear “gifting” friend share pictures of her terrific decoration but I would be stuck in town this season, leaves me no excuse but to dress up the fireplace. What do I need to bring out the essence of Christmas besides the stocking holders? Cards, of course!
Nowadays it seems that *most* cards I receive are from people who want my businesses ---- no, I do not want to make it sound like I am important and unloved, because neither is true: I am only a small potato (or a peanut, rather) who has no influence on any business decisions, and I do receive greetings from friends and cards with their personal photographs. But in order to protect the innocent, only generic cards will be displayed.
 The intelligently designed fireplace with my new found talents. In the center are the JOY stocking holders holding no stockings. |
 A card from a world renowned semiconductor foundry gets special attention: |
 Scanned and cropped black-and-white image of the inside of the above card. The polka dots on the tree depict the relative sizes of the silicon wafers (6”, 8” and 12”), and the gold strings of the trunk the relative dimensions of the transistor gate lengths in various technology nodes (0.5µm down to 65nm). And what’s the problem with transistor scaling? (Hint: reference the trunk!) |
One might have noticed that something is missing near the fireplace: Where have all the gift boxes gone? Why, it’s the idea of “gifting” with giftcards! It’s convenient (for both the giver and the recipient), and extremely environmentally friendly ---- reduced packaging and wrapping!
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Ideal Gas Law
Several friends from a vendor’s company came to upgrade a system. As soon as they entered the lab, they asked if the air-conditioning was turned
off – it was a chilly rainy day in December; I was wearing a cashmere sweater in addition to a heavy-duty cotton turtleneck, and these people were in short-sleeves and jeans…. (and still complained about the
heat???)
“Well,” looking around the lab, I observed to them, “recently we have had a lot of people working under a lot of pressure in the lab. And when people are under a lot of pressure, they generate a lot of
heat.”
“It's the
Ideal Gas Law, PV=nRT .”
-- This law tells us that, in the same room (V), with n and R constant, the more the pressure (P), the higher the temperature (T).
Learning from the Ideal Gas Law, I have a suggestion to the French government:
In the winter when the electricity and gas labor unions again decide to go on strike and leave the general public to the cold fronts, the government should pressure the employed a little more so they would generate heat and warm themselves as well as their colleagues. This would probably encourage more unemployed to actively seek employment. Consequently, more people would be kept off street, which would lower not only the double-digit unemployment rate, but also the crime rate.
I haven’t figured out a solution to cope with French heatwave, if it hits again. Given the ideal gas law, now I am not sure urging EVERYBODY to go to the movie theaters would be a good idea….
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At the end of Acknowledgement came Focaccia and dipping sauce -- parsley, garlic, parmesan in olive oil; 
In the middle of the 6th page arrived Cozze -- steamed clams with white wine, herbs, garlic and butter, served with grilled bread; 
Followed by Insalata di Spinaci -- baby spinach with grilled red onions, tomatoes, pancetta, ricotta salata and walnuts. (Photo depicted VB’s improvised version: topped with clam meats and grilled bread from Cozze.) 
The intelligently designed fireplace with my new found talents. In the center are the JOY stocking holders holding no stockings.
A card from a world renowned semiconductor foundry gets special attention:
Scanned and cropped black-and-white image of the inside of the above card. The polka dots on the tree depict the relative sizes of the silicon wafers (6”, 8” and 12”), and the gold strings of the trunk the relative dimensions of the transistor gate lengths in various technology nodes (0.5µm down to 65nm). And what’s the problem with transistor scaling? (Hint: reference the trunk!)
material girl,
