The Vegetarian Guy

It was another beautiful day in San Diego and we decided to go to Nature’s Express for lunch.  Just a block away from Balboa Park it is a perfect location for a light meal after a stroll through the beautiful park.   In spite of a variety of past experiences restaurants here, we had a good feeling about it.

The location has had many incarnations in the last 20 years.  First, there was the iconic Kung Food, next, The Vegetarian Zone, then an empty building.  After a number of years,

seemingly as an answer to the whispered cocktail wishes of San Diegan vegetarians, Eatopia in OB moved into the space to resurrect the name Kung Food and proselytize their brand of veganism.  Heavy in soy based meat substitutes they served in an egalitarian format that removed service and placed all the food equally in hot and cold steam table bins.  We tried to forgo our culinary and societal egos each time, but it was difficult.  The hot food was not color-coded and, instead of presenting the food at the table, they had someone dish it out mess-hall style with the not so enthusiastic line of “what do ya want?” often difficult to hear through the blaring reggae music.  We would then trudge with tray in hand to the counter, place our plate on a scale and get financially judged for the amount of food we were about to eat.  They even opened a fast food drive-up window on the side of the building to serve a burger-and-fries style fast food.  This was an exciting alternative to try out.  Time and time again, we drove up to the window and had to park for 20 minutes before receiving our “fast food” order.  At that point, our undercooked fries and sit-in-your stomach burgers were anti-climatic.  We tried–really tried, but to no avail.  I do give them credit for giving it a go.  From my own experience I understand how much effort it takes to pull off a good restaurant.  Apparently there was some managerial disagreement with the owner and they left the location in a huff.  The next incarnation was a non-descript lacto-veg restaurant with table service.  It was just ok, with mediocre food and a heavy dose of dairy products.  Not our cup of tea.

A number of months ago, it was a pleasant surprise to discover Natures Express entered the picture and was entirely vegan.  I was particularly interested and managed to drag others to try it.  We started with the fast food window.  It was dressed up Boca burgers, wraps and fries that were passable.  Our 13 year old companion tea-bird (with her discerning palate) particularly enjoyed the fries.

The other day, we worked up the courage to enter the main restaurant.  It was nice inside, with a good aroma and enthusiastic people.  They still had the steam tables, but it was self serve and the food looked pretty good.  First was a simple, but very fresh looking salad bar, next was the cold raw food bar with eight or nine different preparations and the final bar was hot food with another eight or nine dishes.  All the food was colorful, identifiable (very important!) and well labeled.  I could also tell they use good ingredients on par with some of the best vegetarian restaurants.  The pricing was set up by the plate, which allowed light and heavy eaters to pay the same price and not feel embarrassment for copious helpings.  In addition to the food bars, a cooler with prepared sandwiches was nearby as well as the full menu from the drive through.  They also serve pizzas in the evenings.  The servers were enthusiastic, helpful and available.  “Mundo” especially went out of his way.  Our expectations were low, but the food was well prepared, nicely spiced and good to eat.  It was still egalitarian vegetarian, but they have done it right.

As a final note, noticed the Nature’s Express sign was painted over and the San Diego location has been removed from the Natures Express website.  Are we about to experience another incarnation?  A call to the restaurant confirmed they are indeed changing the name to Vegolution.  If the food stays this good, they could name it whatever they want and it would still be all right with me.

July 2010 Update:

The restaurant has evolved into the  fittingly titled Evolution Fast Food.   They help to fill a void in San Diego, which trails behind many other cites in dedicated vegan restaurants.

Pomegranate is a neighborhood style restaurant at the edge of University Heights.  As a change of pace, we decided to have a dinner out to celebrate the last day of my son Spyros’ visit.  Entering the restaurant, we stepped into another world, chock-full of a spirit and hospitality unique to Russia’s feisty neighbor, Georgia.

In ancient times, Georgians were the fabled Scythians Herodotus wrote about.  In modern times, most of what we hear about is strife and unfortunate news.  Some of the cultures in the area are renowned for their unusual longevity, such as the Abkazians,who have been victims of recent political power struggles, thus threatening the lifestyle which has made them a rare example on the planet.  But, what we rarely hear about is the strength of the people and the amazing cuisine that makes them that way.  As John Robbins points out in his book Healthy At 100, this cuisine is full of foraged wild greens, mushrooms, roots and tubers, along with seasonal cultivated vegetable crops and preserved foods.

The menu at Pomegranate starts with a warning of the experience to come:

“Once upon a time in the West … on the corner of El Cajon Boulevard and Louisiana Street, there appeared a Russian-Georgian restaurant.  Our food is robust, for heroes of the table, as our motto amply testifies: “Borscht by the bucket, vodka by the inch.” Our service is “Allegro ma non troppo!” As for parking, it is positively Darwinian:  survival of the fittest.”

Our experience at the restaurant did not disappoint as the food is flavorful and very generous in portions.  The walls are covered with graffiti by happy customers in languages from around the world.  One can imagine many of those scrawled quips were created under the influence of copious servings of vodka, Georgian beer or the special wines made from indigenous Georgian grapes.  The menu boasted 20 vegetarian items so we started with beautifully prepared vegan borscht, full of zest and a good texture.  Next, we grazed a salad sampler plate with a red cabbage slaw, a carrot slaw, a potato salad, a red bean salad and a green bean salad—all tasty.  We finished with a vegetable stroganoff and an eggplant “ratatouille” called Ajap Sandhali.  Both were outstanding.  Perhaps it was the spirit of the place that made everything so good, reminiscent of the family feasts I would enjoy in Crete with long tables of relatives.  Or, it could have been the feeling of authenticity–that we were in the midst of Georgians, celebrating their culture as participants, not just observers.  Whichever way I recall, it was a memorable dinner, for the food and the people.  I even took the opportunity to scrawl my own message, in honor of my father who loved this place.    On the way out, the owner and waitress both enthusiastically invited us to their Thanksgiving dinner, noting it will be home-style–family, friends and great food.

From About Georgia:

“Georgia is an amazing cluster of cultures, religions, fascinating landscapes and ancient history. The country where everyone can find something to his liking – from snowy peaks to subtropical shores, from deserts to lush forests, from cities to enchanting villages. Ethnic Georgians constitute a majority of the population. The official language is Georgian, one of the oldest languages in the world. Tbilisi is the capital and by far the largest city.”

“Georgian cuisine uses well familiar products but due to varying proportions of its obligatory ingredients such as walnut, aromatic herbs, garlic, vinegar, red pepper, pomegranate grains, barberries and other spices combined with the traditional secrets of the chef ‘s art the common products do acquire a special taste and aroma, which make Georgian cuisine very popular and unique.”

“The Georgian table is conducted in a wise manner in accordance with the ancient ritual. The head of the table “tamada” is elected as proposed by the host. The tamada must be a man of humour with an ability for improvisation and a philosopher’s wisdom. If there are many guests at the table he appoints assistants who in Georgian are called “tolumbashis”. The tamada’s toasts follow one another in a strict never violated order. The guest is obliged to listen attentively to each toast and appreciate the beauty of style and the purpot of the worlds said. If is not allowed to interrupt the tamada when he is saying the toats. The tamada’s assistants and other guests may only add something to the toast or develop its ideas. If you wish to say a toast, you must by all means have the tamada’s consent or else you will find yourself in an awkward position. This table ritual does not put restraints on the guests but maintains discipline at the table. The feast proceeds among jokes and is accompanied by a dance competition, table songs and music, quotations and aphorisms from the works of poets and writers.”

I love Sunday mornings at the Hillcrest Farmers Market.  It seems to get better with each week…something extraordinary is happening there.  Sure, there are wonderfully fresh fruits and vegetables, as well a plethora of prepared food vendors, but I really enjoy the people.  As I enter the market, there is a feeling of collective awareness.

The vendors add to this with the dedication to product and craft.  People who attend take part with enthusiasm, as if like children in a candy store, exuding good moods, chatting and smiling all the way.  All in all, the market has a festive atmosphere with music, food, good company and the prospect of preparing the wares later on.  Every week I meet old friends and their dependable produce, but there are always one or two new vendors that add to the mix.  For me, it is a safe haven in an uncertain world.

One of the new vendors is Sun Grown Organics micro greens and edible flowers.  I was pleasantly surprised to see the colorful tables full of culinary gems.  I began filling bags with a bevy of different greens, flowers and sprouts.

In addition to the expected varieties, there were micro red perilla (shiso), fennel, popcorn sprouts, batchelor button flowers and  pink petals.

Roots Kind Foods was there again this week.  I picked up a couple of wraps to go with the micro green salad for lunch.  After closing their café in OB (Ocean Beach) they have made a name for themselves at farmers markets around San Diego.

Mariella from Guanni chocolates has started selling truly incredible vegan chocolate bars.  Good enough to sway even those who normally shy away from chocolate.

Phil from Sage Mountain Farms had giant butternut squashes to compliment his always full display.  He asked me to save the seeds and bring them back because he wanted to share the few squashes he had and it is a  especially sweetvariety that is hard to get.  I am still buying his organic strawberry jam that is out of this world.

La Milpa Organica is one of the most consistent booths at the market.  Every week one can find the tables overflowing with an abundance of greens, from amaranth to sorrel.  There are also multiple varieties of fresh herbs such a multiple varieties of mint, dill, fennel, sage and lavender.

Lone Oak Ranch had beautiful pomegranates, fuyu persimmons, fuji apples and fresh pressed pomegranate juice.  The juice is naturally sweet and very refreshing unlike the pre-sweetened store bought varieties

Often, memorable food experiences occur by happenstance. Unfamiliar areas bring unexpected, frequently delightful experiences. A few years ago my son Spyros and I were driving across southern Arizona on I-8, from Yuma to Gila just north of the border with Mexico. It was about 105º F and the desert around us had visible heat waves shimmering up from the hot sands. The occasional billboard advertised Dateland coming up down the road, so after a few grumbles from Spyros, I turned in with the excuse that we needed petrol anyway. Basically, it was a gas station, café and gift shop next to a date orchard in the middle of nowhere. We noticed a sign soliciting customers to buy date shakes in the café. With curiosity aroused, we waltzed through the blistering heat into a 1940s style diner, full of sweaty travelers. Spyros and I sat down on the vintage bar stools, ordered up two date shakes and watched the waitress scoop ice cream in a tumbler with pureed dates and mix it in the old diner style milk shake machine. Served soda fountain style, the first sip was thick, creamy and infused with sun-dried date nectar. Amazing! Maybe it was the heat, but this shake hit the spot and we both finished the entire generously sized confection, slurping each drop from the bottom of the glass. I rarely consume such decadently rich foods, but the searing temperatures in a desolate landscape, without any sign of life beyond this oasis,  justified the exception. I have made the trip a few times since and Dateland has become a must stop destination on Interstate 8. Here is a link about the history of Dateland.

The OB Peoples Food Co-op has been a solid bastion of organic awareness for many years.  It is one of the best food co-ops I have seen and have shopped there since coming to San Diego six years ago.  Running around and in need of a late lunch, I decided to swing by and try the restaurant on the second floor for the first time.  It is a simple operation with counter service and food sold by the pound.  Purchasing tastes of sesame tofu and mock chicken salad along with an avocado club sandwich, I was taking a quick-stop road-food approach and was not disappointed with my healthy vegan choices.  The sesame tofu was sauteed with toasted sesame oil, thinly sliced green bell peppers and hulled sesame seeds.  Surprisingly subtle in flavor, it was a pleasure to taste.  The mock chicken salad is made with minced seitan, celery, onions and soynaise.   The flavor was also balanced without too many onions, a common mistake.  The best dish was the avocado club.  The bread was fresh with a good California avocado, Fakin’ Bakin’, lettuce and cucumber.  The textures and flavors came together in a very gratifying way. The meal was just what I needed, energizing me to continue errands.

http://www.obpeoplesfood.coop/

My father had clipped an article from the paper about the Athens Market Taverna on F street in downtown San Diego.  A Greek peasant at heart, he is always looking for a taste of Greece, an interaction, or even an opportunity to use a Greek word or two.  Reminiscent of the movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” he uses Greek words with waiters of any nationality for the rare chance that a word or phrase may be understood.  This acts as a gateway to a warm banter that usually charms the unwitting recipient.  Accompanied with emphatic hand gestures, the wait person usually figures out what he wants with only occasional food order mistakes.  The article said that owner Mary Pappas’ ninety-one year old mother still makes the Kourabiethes cookies at the restaurant.  This was a sure sign of authenticity.

We arrived at the restaurant and my father entered, walking with and waving his cane instead of the usual walker (his Greek pride got the better of him). Mary’s nephew Niko, greeted us at the table, my father offered him to sit with us and he did.  Unfortunately, he did not know much Greek, but gave us the story of the whole family.  His Yai Yia, Soula, was actually 91 and really did make the cookies.  She had four daughters, all of whom own restaurants in the San Diego area. This one was the original “istiatorio” started by Mary after emigrating from Greece in 1961. The family was originally from the Peloponnese peninsula and retain strong connections there.

 

We were there for an early dinner, so Niko had time to speak with us.  The exchange was warm and genuine with doses of friendly Greek hospitality. Niko excused himself when our first course arrived: Tiropites, phyllo and cheese triangles.  Nicely presented and well balanced the only thing lacking was an edge that a sheep or goat cheese would impart. The rest of the meal came out promptly.  My father had his favorite Avgolemono soupa and I had a salad, followed by a vegetarian Moussaka that we shared. The soup was a little salty but the elder Greek deftly dipped his bread to balance that out.  The salad had good, fresh greens and Moussaka was nicely seasoned while being balanced with green beans, potatoes and rice.  It was pleasant meal that evoked childhood memories of Greek relatives and gatherings.  Mary arrived at the end of the meal as we polished of the delectable hand crafted Kourabiethes (toasted almond cookies dusted with powdered sugar).  A Greek beauty in both looks and personality, she gave my father the opportunity to unleash his Hellenic core.  She tried to persuade him to have a shot of Ouzo or Metaxa brandy, but he turned it down claiming it would not be good with his medicines.  Her response was “mother is 91 and does not take any medications—why should she?—she feels good!”  My father rapped his knuckles on the table in true Greek style coming back with an emphatic “bravo!” Thus the banter continued for fifteen to twenty minutes, a long time in a restaurant that had become busy.  When Greeks meet this way, the friendship is timeless and without fears or boundaries.  Expressing oneself through the generosity of food, wine and conversation is a national pastime and important part of a zest for life that is unique to Greece.  Reluctantly, we said our goodbyes to Mary and Niko walked my father out to the curb while I pulled up the car.  For us, the food was good, but the real gem was the warmth and enthusiasm both during and after service.  It was a true taste of Greece.

My father and I in Crete in front of a restaurant that specialized in wild harvested vegetable dishes

Aromas waft into the nostrils as the dish arrives.  Flavors explode with imagery of fabulous lands and forgotten civilizations, highlighted by local notes of earth, sun and moon.  Pressing the fork into each morsel is a visual delight that alternates in texture from silky smooth to a delicate crispness. Peaceful rhythms scintillating in a background of melodic humming and chatter of others who dine.  Plates are exchanged for the next course and with each move, anticipation builds. Finally, after a thorough sensual workout of the palate, desert arrives.  Visually enticing and not too sweet, it is the smooth finish to a great meal.  Satisfied and vitalized, the body is nourished, the mind is pleased and the soul tingles.  Until the next time, life is perfect.  

Lately, dining out has become a rare event. Most often I spend anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to prepare a fresh simple meal.  Once or twice a week, a more extravagant dinner will be presented with maybe five or six dishes.  This usually coincides with company coming, a recent trip to the farmers market or a taking the opportunity to express a moment of inspiration.  Even those meals rarely take more than an hour to prepare.  Thus, looking at drive time, cost and quality of food, going out for dinner is rarely justified.  Even the lovely thought of someone serving us has become jaded by the fact that good service is a rare occasion in restaurants anymore.  

Marci and Allen invited us to dine with them last week.  Allen worked at Inn Season Cafe for years as my trusted dining room manager and has spent the last decade as dining room manager at the Zodiac Cafe in Neiman Marcus.  Marci, Allen’s long time friend, is a talented graphic artist and designer who saved the day many times when we needed help at Inn Season Cafe.  She has worked with me many times since, designing recipe greeting cards and providing “Vanna White” style assistance at my cooking classes. (Of course I am kidding J She’s a fantastic assistant!).  At Whole Foods:

We have remained good friends, enjoying the old stories, keeping up with the new and having great laughs over the human ironies in the restaurant business.  

Anita’s Kitchen has been in Troy, Michigan for decades.  Anita opened one of the first Lebanese restaurants in the northern suburbs of Detroit as well as spawning a number of others over the years with her own ventures and extended family.  My father and my son, Spyros used to regularly eat at Anita’s—to the point of everyone knowing them on a first name basis.  The food was consistent and inexpensive, but there were better quality Lebanese places around.  Allen wanted to try out the latest venture in Ferndale recently opened by Anita’s daughter and son-in-law and we all agreed without high expectations.  We met there on a rainy Friday evening and found a nicely designed and well laid out restaurant with covered outdoor seating and crowds of people—a good sign.  We started by sharing the vegetarian platter for 2 to 4 , a mezzes style appetizer one finds almost every Lebanese restaurant.  It is a large platter with hummus, tabouli, babaghanouj, felafels, stuffed grape leaves, laban and fresh pickles.  This version was excellent.  Noticeable, were the nicely seasoned grape leaves.  Everything tasted fresh and balanced and did not contain the exorbitant amounts of garlic often found in other restaurants.  While the menu had many normal Lebanese offerings, Anita’s of Ferndale has a number of different dishes that caught my interest such as pita bread pizzas, a variety of salads and a good list of specials.  We all opted for an artichoke pie from the specials list.  Made with a layered phyllo pastry like the Greek spinach pie, it was excellent.  I had the dinner version and my only complaint that the pie was served with rice and tabouli. Tabouli is often served as an appetizer and we had just finished the platter where it complimented the hummus and babaghanouj. The third of my plate that contained tabouli thus remained untouched and wasted.  Service was surprisingly attentive and we did not have to “take charge” of our meal as so often occurs in today’s dining scene.  The evening was spent regaling each other with stories, laughing, and enjoying the company of good friends.  A great evening and a wonderful dining experience.  

One of the latest small vegetarian restaurants to open in San Diego is Roots Cafe.  It is literally a hole in the wall establishment with a nicely appointed order window.  Tables and chairs are on the sidewalk adjacent to parking meters…but this is OB, a funky and down home surfer town still embracing its late 60′s heyday. Roots Organic Cafe is a vegetarian spot, fitting nicely among the tourist shops, surf shops, trinket boutiques, antique stores and tattoo parlors.  We ordered carryout for four and walked around town while waiting for the food to be assembled. Anticipation escalated as we took the obligatory 20 minute drive (here, everything takes twenty minutes).  We opened the biodegradable and recyclable containers to see four beautifully fresh sandwich wraps garnished with organic salad greens, sliced beets and fresh flowers.  The Thai peanut and soy chicken wrap was very good.  The Burrito was fresh and flavorful but lacked zip while the artichoke sandwich was simply delicious.  The Green Wrap was intriguing, a fresh collard green with avocado, lettuce and soaked bulgur wheat.  Prices were very reasonable, 7.50 for and full size wrap, making it a good alternative for a quick lunch.  We are looking forward to the next OB junket.

Politically incorrect seashell shop down the street from Roots.

One of our regular haunts in San Diego is Jyoti Bihanga restaurant in Normal Heights.  We go for the fresh salads, Neat Loaf and consistent vegetarian fare.  The restaurant is run by followers of Sri Chimnoy, the recently departed guru known for a positive outlook,weightlifting and concerts where he performed using up to 80 instruments.  The atmosphere at the restaurant is airy and peaceful with sari and kirta-clad servers serving throngs of yoga practitioners, saddhu wannabees and plant-based foodies.  We have menu favorites and the experience is generally good, in spite of sometimes spacey service.  This evening, we were in the mood for something different and decided to chance the evening special.  I ordered the “beef” stroganoff and a carrot juice.  The carrot juice that was served tasted of fresh garlic cloves.  Juicing garlic is popular in certain cleansing fasts, but the problem is that garlic permeates the entire juicer no matter how many carrots follow it. Overpowered by the stinking rose, I promptly sent it back and set about enjoying the house salad with tahini dressing.  The salads at Jyoti Bihanga are served French style with grated fresh beets and grated carrots side by side on butter lettuce.  They are delightfully fresh, creating anticipation for the main course.  When the stroganoff was served, my heart sank.  Pasty noodles topped with a splotch of grey mushroom gravy and two little pieces of mock”beef”.  The flavor was not any better with a somewhat soapy combination of nutmeg and summer savory.  It is rare that I cannot politely consume food, but this was the exception.  Sara was a champ and switched dishes with me.  She plucked away at the sometimes elusive slippery noodles while I did justice to her Thai peanut and vegetable stirfry, which was pleasantly balanced and quite edible.  As we battled with the stroganoff, we noticed the waiter had disappeared for most of the meal.  Just as we finished our last morsels, he appeared with the carrot juice, mumbling something about having to wash out the entire juicer.  The juice tasted fresh, but was not a good substitute for dessert.  Un-cleared plates were on the table for some time before the check was received and we left thinking Neat Loaf carry-outs will work for future dinners from Jyoti Bihanga.