The Vegetarian Guy

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. 

It was a blustery rainy day in autumn and the weather was starting to change from cool to icy. We found ourselves on the eastside in Grosse Pointe cruising for a late lunch, so we stopped at The Sprout House, a small natural food grocery and deli. Our expectations were simple and we knew the food was trustable—good organic ingredients and vegetarian oriented. Sara and I ordered the Mediterranean Lentil Soup, Lemony Petit French Lentil Soup, a Mediterranean Tofu Sandwich and a Carrot-Apple-Ginger Juice. Everything was flavorful and balanced with not too much garlic, herb or oil as is often the case in commercial food. The lentil soups were distinct with the Mediterranean Lentil thick and rich with tomato while the French Lentil had just enough lemon and herb to satiate. The sandwich had a vegan black olive mayo, baked tofu patty and fresh organic greens on organic Avalon Bakery bread. Easy to eat, good flavor and great texture made for a very enjoyable sandwich. We sat down at one of two small tables in the front of the store to enjoy the food. The affable server brought my carrot-apple-ginger juice to us. It was great—freshly made and thirst-quenching. During previous visits with friends, the small dining area was a social hub for the neighborhood. Times like these remind me that the Detroit area has a wonderfully vibrant and aware community. The Sprout House in Grosse Pointe Park has been in business since 1980 when Bonnie Breidenbach first opened it. Just before we opened Inn Season Café, Bonnie outbid my offer for the Yellow Bean Cafe, a hole in the wall soy foods deli on Mack, where she started teaching about and serving Macrobiotic foods. After a couple of moves and a few other owners, The Sprout House became a neighborhood institution. Camaraderie between Inn Season Cafe and The Sprout House was always there, especially when second owner Muriel had it. We shared employees, stories and took care of each other. Today, it was encouraging to see the standards of health and organics still being maintained by the current owners. I applaud their efforts and it is worth a stop when in the area.

Go there!

The Sprout House 15233 Kercheval St, Grosse Pointe Park Michigan 48230 Tel: 313-331-3200

Sara and I had lunch at Inn Season Cafe on Friday.  We do not get there as often as we like, our life in Birmingham seems far away even though it is only five miles.  The food was excellent.  I had a wonderfully fresh carrot-apple-ginger juice with a flavorful potato-dill soup.  Sara had the chili, good as always.  We shared the Barbecued Seitan Sandwich and found it to be balanced, without the rubbery texture wheat gluten often has.  The service was great, especially since we were doted on by our longtime friends Jenny, Amber and Jennifer.  It has been over five years since we sold the Cafe and it is exciting to see the restaurant well run, busy and successful.  Kudos to Chef Thomas and Nick for keeping it up as a vibrant centerpiece in the Royal Oak restaurant community.  

I am currently mulling over the final edits of the Inn Season Cookbook (working title) and look forward to the day when it is for sale at the restaurant and bookstores. After all these years there is light at the end of the tunnel!  The book covers the the period from when we first opened the cafe in 1981 to when I sold it in July, 2002.  

Inn Season Cafe

500 East Fourth Street, Royal Oak, MI 48067

Tel: 248-547-7916