Well, not really, but you probably already knew that 'carnitas' means 'little meats,' referring to the little bites of pork which make up the dish. For me, Carnitas are synonymous with summer as the fattier pork pairs up so well with grilled veggies and fresh fruit.

The last time I made Carnitas were for Amanda's high school graduation. Hmm. I should clarify. The last time I made real Carnitas, i.e. not made in the crockpot with taco seasoning or using some other shortcut, was in 2003. I have no propblem with those shortcuts—they're easy and good for an everyday-type of meal. It's just that they're not the same and they're not to-die-for. Real Carnitas are TO-DIE-FOR. It's a time-consuming dish, but worth every minute. It's also perfect for a crowd because a large batch can be made and then kept warm in a chafing dish with no loss of flavor, texture or moistness. So, when Amanda called last weekend and said she'd like to come over and spend the day with us on Tuesday, I let her pick the meal. We don't get to spend much time with her since she's working two jobs and taking a class this summer to beef up her law resume, so the time we do have with her is precious and I like for her to feel special and cared for. Her response to the question of dinner was, of course, "Meat. Chicken, beef. Anything. Just don't be mean and make me eat something vegetarian."

I checked the freezer and found...19.5 pounds of pork. A 7.5 pound pork shoulder, a 3 pound pork loin, a 4 pound pork loin, and a 5 pound bone-in pork loin roast. Yes, I know that's a lot of pork. I can explain. My mother worries because I don't feed Keith meat for dinner every night and also thinks that maybe I'm in cahoots with Annie to deprive Susie of her daily meat requirement. I think it's a generational thing, but anyway, she looks for sales and brings me meat. Lots of meat. And the ground meat I used for the tripled recipe of Picadillo last week? Yep, mom.

Now, I'd never used such lean cuts of pork for Carnitas before, but since I had so much of the fatty shoulder, I figured it would probably work and I could add to my freezer meals stash, too. I trimmed off all of the fat I could get to on the shoulder, removed the bone from the roast, and ended up with 15 pounds or enough for five whole recipes! How did it turn out, you ask? Deliciously fantabulous. Honey even requested that I take one day each month to load up the freezer so he doesn't have to wait 5 years between Carnitas meals. As a bonus, the Carnitas were much less oily, but still fabulously moist and tender. I'll be making this lower-fat version from now on. For the record, I quintupled the recipe below, fed the five of us that night, sent home a batch with Amanda for her freezer, made her a plate for lunch the next day, stashed two big batches in my freezer, and put the fifth batch in the fridge for leftovers. Woot!

Carnitas

• Olive oil for browning
• 1.5-2 lbs. pork butt or shoulder (buy enough to have at least 1.5 lbs. after trimming)
• 1.5-2 lbs. pork loin
• Course sea salt & coursely ground black pepper
• Garlic-Pepper seasoning (Optional. I love it, so I use it often.)
• 1 t. paprika, sweet and/or smokey
• 1 t. ground cumin
• 1 t. chipotle chili powder
• 1/2 t. black pepper
• 1/2 t. garlic powder
• 1/2 t. oregano
• 1/4 t. cayenne pepper
• 1/4 t. white pepper
• 1/4 t. sage
• 1/4 t. allspice
• 1 c. cola plus more as needed
• 1/2 c. white wine
• 1/2 c. orange juice
• 2 T. lime juice
• 1 T. reduced-sodium soy sauce
• 5 garlic cloves, smashed and minced
• 1 bay leaf

Preheat the oven to 325° F.

Trim away large pieces of visible fat from the pork shoulder and the fat flap from the loin. Cube pork into bite-sized pieces and place in a large bowl. Season with sea salt, black pepper, and garlic-pepper seasoning. Set aside.

In a large pan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add half of the pork and cook for 10-15 minutes until meat is well-browned. Remove browned pork from pan and set aside. Add more olive oil to the pan and repeat with the remaining pork. Once all the pork is browned, place it all back in the pan and set aside. Note: In this photo, I've used my Paella pan over two burners and transferred the browned meat to my big black barbeque pan since I was cooking five recipes at once. If I had been cooking a single recipe, I would have used my Paella pan for browning and cooking in the oven.

 In a mixing bowl, combine remaining ingredients and pour over pork. Stir pork, being sure to 'bury' the bay leaf. Place uncovered in the oven and cook for 2 hours stirring after the first hour. If needed, add more cola to keep pork moist through the second hour of cooking. After the second hour, stir again and pork should begin to fall apart and shred itself. The outside of the pork should be darkly caramelized while the inside is moist and juicy. Note: My quintupled recipe required nearly 3.5 hours of cooking. This photo was taken just as the Carnitas were being put into the oven. 

 

 

 

I like to serve my Carnitas with guacamole, sour cream, and pico de gallo on grilled corn tortillas or warm, soft flour tortillas. I prefer to keep the side dishes fresh and light. On this night, I served grilled corn-on-the-cob 'wheels,' grilled zucchini, bell peppers, and sweet Vidalia onions with an icy cold watermelon. ¡Buen apetito!

Right now I'm watching Martha Stewart's show -- they're making carnitas, salsa verde and roasted tomato salsa. This is something I'm going to do very soon. I love carnitas!

Martha's saying how she loves "lengua" (tongue) tacos. I'll have to try that, too.

She said that when she was growing up, they used to render their own lard and eat the cracklings with a little salt for a snack.

Tonight I made roast beef for dinner. I had a nice rump roast that I needed to do something with. I've never made roast beef before -- but it came out delicious! I used the drippings in the pan to make a yummy white wine reduction sauce (with extra butter). I also served a green salad with tomatoes and homemade vinaigrette, and some homemade butternut squash soup.

And now I have leftover roast beef for lunch. Nothing like a cold roast beef sandwich with buttered bread. Yeah, we're still not eating bread -- but one day! I gave Kate roast beef for dinner today and she loved it. She ate every single bite.

PS: I booked our tickets to New York for July. I also bought "South Pacific" tickets (thanks to Ed's daughter, Helene, who had the inside track on tickets -- they are quite hard to come by due to all the Tony awards. Thanks, Helene!).

I'm so excited -- it will be such a wonderful 40th birthday celebration.

To me, jackfruit sounds more like a bouncy cartoon character or an off-label brand of whiskey than it does a type of food. But brushing right over what it means that I mentally mixed together a type of childhood entertainment and a kind of alcohol, jackfruit is in fact a type of tree grown in tropical regions of the world (South Asia, Philippines, East Africa, Australia, etc.) that produces an edible fruit.

Indian, African, and certain Asian cuisines have thrown the fruit into curries, fried it like a potato chip, mashed it up into a pudding, or have just eaten it raw. But at Pure Luck, a vegan restaurant/microbrewery in east Hollywood, jackfruit takes on a whole other role, wardrobe, and patois: shredded pork. Doused in a sweet and sharp barbeque sauce, it sprawls between (and seductively pours out the sides of) a Kaiser roll that’s been swathed with garlic aioli and garnished with pickles, like a tangy pulled pork sandwich. Packed into a tortilla with mildly-spiced pinto beans, rice, avocado, and fresh salsa, it completes a light (or at least light-tasting) carnitas burrito. You can also order it atop a spinach salad or in a pair of tacos. And although you'll never forget you're not actually eating meat, you probably won't care either. It's messy, moist, meaty--at least in texture, that is.

Unfortunately, jackfruit is a featherweight compared to tofu and other meat substitutes in terms of health, offering only 5% of your recommended protein intake per serving. The fruit consists mainly of carbs which, together with a few beers and the white bread that hosts all the sandwiches at Pure Luck, provides for an Atkinson-diet nightmare.  Doesn't look like the fruit packs enough of a punch to make much headway in vegetarian or vegan diets outside of this little pub (which is quite appropriate, actually: Mexican food + vegan ingredients in a trendy, mellow hole-in-the-wall haven? You can't get any more LA than that.)

But Pure Luck isn’t your typical uppity, dressing-on-the-side type of vegan joint. It’s the vegan restaurant for the regular ol' omnivore looking to mix things up—a creative, hipster-homey, “health? smealth” gastropub experience for diners interested in a new take on comfort-food favorites. Their potato pals (lightly fried gnocchi sprinkled with salt and pepper) are rich in texture, simple in flavors; the earthy spices in the curry rice bowls deliver a body-blow to your taste buds; and their sweet potato fries are tasty, though they pale in comparison to the basket I tried at Father’s Office a couple of weeks ago. Though the food is quite good, Pure Luck isn’t the place with the dinner around. But with its friendly service, laid-back bohemian atmosphere, and bike-riding subculture costumers, it does offer one of the most unassuming, affable vibes in Hollywood (they sailed through a Bjork album beginning to end on my most recent visit. Kudos!)

It’s also one of few places where you could work on your laptop or burry yourself in a book for hours as if you were at coffee shop, except instead of slurping down a $5 cup of blended milk, espresso, and chalky mocha powder, you can sip away at a $5 pint of crisp, LA-brewed lager, a concept that unfortunately is much less common LA than in New York.

And let’s brush right over what it means to mix alcohol with work, shall we?

[this post is cross-published at www.glassshallot.com]

Located in the heart of downtown Los Angeles, Ciudad is the brainchild of world-renowned Chefs Mary Sue Milliken and Susan Feniger and though a little pricier than their fare at the similarly-themed Border Grill in Santa Monica and Las Vegas, Ciudad is worth every penny you pay. Seriously...it's kind of magical.

Although Christine has eaten at Ciudad a number of times over the years -- her workplace, downtown's Central Library is practically across the street from the restaurant -- I had only been there on one other occasion, but the memory of that meal has stayed with me ever since.

So after enjoying the sunset from the rooftop bar of The Standard nearby, we hiked on over to Ciudad for a late dinner with some of Christine's co-workers. And seeing as the late night happy hour at Ciudad had begun just minutes before we walked in -- incredibly enough, they have house mojitos, sangria and a number of other rocking good cocktails for only $4 a pop from 9-11 on Friday nights! -- we could not have planned it better!

The only hitch to the late night happy hour is that you have to enjoy your drinks literally at the bar and cannot move to your table until after you've settled your tab. Fine by us! So we drank ourselves silly at the bar, settled the tab and stumbled to our table around 10-ish.

And the food? Wow...word's cannot do this place justice. Fusing delicious new and classic authentic dishes from Spain, Mexico, South America, Central America, Cuba and even Portugal, the menu is almost as rich, colorful and varied as the crazy hip decor and art work inside.

We started with some incredible tapas-style dishes. And though the Peruvian Ceviche with plantain chips and Argentine Empandas (with wild mushroom, warm chipotle sauce and swiss chard!) were fantastic, I gotta say that my favorite of the three appetizers we shared was the Fried Spanish Brie. Dios mio, that stuff melted in your mouth...it was incredible.

And this from a man who is not a huge fan of the Brie...don't get me wrong, I love me some soft cheeses, but Brie has never been my favorite. Until now!

And dinner was even more amazing! Not only were the hip, mid-century dishes super groovy to look at, but the plating of this food was out of this world. Beautiful culinary art on every plate...just gorgeous!

I had the slow-roasted Niman Ranch Carnitas with mashed yuca, organic black beans, fried plantains and grilled corn salsa. Wow, even just typing those words is making me drool. It was probably the best carnitas I've ever had anywhere...and that mashed yuca is something I wanna make at home, like, every night. I loved it!

Christine had a huge crusted pork chop from the "Specials" menu that not only tasted like heaven, but rivaled the Brontosaurus bone on "The Flintsones" in heft. That thing was enormous!

And that lovely pork chop was not alone in the size department, because, unlike other hipster haunts downtown, the portions at Ciudad are authentically gigantic. That's right, they don't eat dainty in any of the countries listed above, so why should we do it here? Sí se puede, indeed!

I don't have any pictures to back this all up of course -- Christine forbid me to photograph my food in front of her work friends -- but you'll have to trust me when I tell you that even the heartiest eaters out there will not leave this joint hungry. It's just not possible...

So next time you find yourself downtown on a Friday night between 9-11PM -- gotta hit that happy hour, I mean, come on, regular-priced Supremo Mojitos are $15! -- check out Ciudad! Sure, it might cost you and arm and a leg, but I swear to God, the food you eat here will flash before your eyes when you die.

Yep, it's that good!

Carnitas is a Latin American pork dish. Ideally, for me, it has a crisp crust on the outside with a flavorful, tender and juicy interior. I pull/shred the pork to use it in different dishes later (i.e. Tacos, Burritos, Chili). If served as a main dish, I’d carve it like a pot roast, making a flavorful gravy out of the pan juices.

Making this dish using my Dutch Oven allows me to sear, sauté, braise, roast, reduce and serve in one pot.

Equipment
5 Qt Cast Iron Dutch Oven
Tongs
Wooden Spoon
Platter
Peanut Oil

Ver link http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/03/us/03taco.html?ex=1367467200&en=dc34681d27d83d92&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

Or maybe Molina is in bed with the East L.A. restaurants that pushed so hard for this ordinance in the first place. Either way, last night was declared "Taco Truck Night" throughout the city of Los Angeles. And judging from our firsthand experience, the event was a pretty rollicking success.

Embracing the simple yet profound credo that "carne asada is not a crime", the save the taco truck movement was started by Highland Park residents, Aaron Sonderleiter and Chris Rutherford. Former college roommates, the pair say they often sought comfort in the steamy embrace of a piping hot street taco while in college, and continue to do so now.

Their point is that taco trucks are a part of the very fabric of life here in Los Angeles and rather than being pushed aside by some greedy restaurant owners, they should be embraced, if not for their cultural significance, then surely for their rocking good food!

So, in honor of Sonderleiter and Rutherford's burgeoning movement -- their petition to save the imperiled taco truck has received upwards of 5,000 signatures to date! -- Christine and I enjoyed a tasty taco truck dinner last night with our friends Patty and Mike.

Using the map feature on the guy's website, we were able to locate a taco truck in North Hollywood called Tacos La Fonda.

And while the tacos were fantastic and totally comparable to our usual taco truck in Hollywood, the real star here was the gigantic quesadilla (pictured above). Stuffed with Mexican cheese, a meat of your choice -- we very wisely picked carnitas, which was amazing! -- and lightly fried, that thing must have weighed at least a pound and, man alive, it tasted like heaven...delicious!

And the atmosphere at this taco truck could not have been better. Located in the far corner of a car wash parking lot on the busy intersection of Vineland and VanOwen, the place was so close to the airport runway that you felt like the planes were literally landing on top of you. Kind of scary, but kind of cool too.

So, while the official Taco Truck Night 2008 has come and gone, there is no reason not to make every night Taco Truck Night. All you gotta do is check out the saveourtacotrucks.org website, sign the petition while you're there and use the handy mapping feature to find a taco truck near you.

And if you see Supervisor Gloria Molina out there, tell her to back the "f" off and for the love of pico de gallo, buy that bitch a taco already!

Que viva los taco trucks!

Finding pinto beans in Paris is not easy, but some Asian markets have them, and sometimes you can get them at the supermarket for more money.  As such, I had part of a bag of dried pintos in the kitchen when Nick came home with a kilo and a half of pork which he intended to turn into carnitas.  Unfortunately, I had too many other things to do that day to make beans, but there were a lot of leftover little meats.  So last night (well, yesterday morning) I decided to cook up some refried beans to accompany the rest of the carnitas.  I started soaking them in the morning, and noticed how cool they look before they have been cooked and smashed.

Here they have alrerady been soaking for a short spell, and are already beginning to wrinkle and expand.  But look how pretty they are!

Anyway, you can't have carnitas without tortillas, and the Old El Paso ones they sell here just aren't cutting it.  (The masa quest has, to date, been fruitless, but I'm not giving up - we saw a Peruvian store the other night and I plan on returning to check out what they have to offer.)  Flour tortillas, however, are easy to make, as demonstrated by Robert Rodriguez, and vastly superior to store-bought, especially in France.  So I made some dough using vague metric approximations of U.S. measurments, and it actually worked!

Here are the dough balls, resting while I get hungrier and hungrier.  Lazy bums.  No, you have to let them rest or they'll never roll out into nice thin circles, like this:

Then all you have to do is cook them in a lightly oiled pan (nonstick will make your life easier), and you end up with beautiful, soft, warm, fresh tortillas!

Meanwhile, I had been simmering the beans (after soaking them for 8 or 9 hours) with onion, garlic, cumin, scotch bonnet pepper, bay leaf, cilantro, cinnamon, and salt.  When the beans were tender and the liquid was getting reduced, I picked out the pepper, bay leaf, and any large pieces of onion.  Then I mashed them with a potato masher and added a little more salt, cumin, and black pepper.  While not exactly "refried," it's close enough for me.

I served them alongside the tortillas, garnished thusly:

with Nick's carnitas and homemade salsa, crème fraîche (who needs sour cream?), and avocado.  Avocados are so cheap here - 5 for 2 euro is pretty standard - I can't get over it.  We eat them often.

Now we have a bunch of leftover refried beans.  What cool about that is you put them in a bowl, top them with cheese, crème fraîche, sliced avocado, chopped tomato, onion, and cilantro, and you got yourself a stew!  I mean seven-layer dip.  Yeah.

So, the next night (I almost never cook on grocery night, which is kind of ironic), I threw together these not quite carnitas.  They're really nothing like the real thing -- totally different spices and process -- but they're still shredded pork in a tortilla, darn it.  Don't judge me.  I served them with the produce we had on hand, which didn't include either cilantro or lime, which are really pretty necessary if you want really good carnitas, in my opinion.  Or really good anything vaguely Mexican.  But whatever, this is a leftovers meal, so beggars can't be choosers and I forgot to pick up either cilantro or lime at the grocery store anyway.  It doesn't really matter, you can serve it with whatever you'd like.

Not Quite Carnitas

1 pork tenderloin, leftover from previous dinner
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper

With two forks, shred the pork.  Mine was sliced into thick medallions because I'd thought we were going to eat it that way, which made shredding pretty easy.  You can do it however you'd like.  It's not rocket science.

In a skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat.  Add garlic and saute for a few seconds -- not too long, you don't want the garlic to brown.  Add pork, paprika, onion powder, salt, and pepper.  Saute, stirring frequently, until pork is beginning to brown and is thoroughly warmed through, about eight minutes.

Meanwhile, chop, slice, and put out your accompaniments.  I set out shredded lettuce, sliced tomatoes, sliced red onion, sliced avocado, chopped scallions, sour cream, and cheddar cheese.  Plus tortillas, of course.  If I hadn't been forgetful at the grocery store, I would have omitted the sour cream and put out fresh cilantro and lime wedges.  But whatever, it was still awesome.

On Photography: Um, there isn't any.  It was way too dark to really light anything and also I was hungry and didn't feel like assembling my tortilla all pretty-like and honestly I kind of forgot about it.  But this using-up-leftovers recipe came out so well that I decided to share it with you all anyway.  Aren't you glad?

This is Becky's recipe, which is very similar to mine, which I've since misplaced.

1 pork shoulder (mine was 4 lbs)

5-6 bay leaves

2 Tbsp oregano (dried or fresh)

1 Tbsp thyme (dried or fresh)

3 Tbsp kosher salt

1 tsp paprika

1 tsp cumin

4 Tbsp Crisco or lard

1 onion, sliced

1 orange, skin on, halved and sliced

5 cloves garlic, quartered

Few turns of black pepper from pepper mill

3 jalapenos, diced

2 limes, juiced

3/4 cup orange juice

3/4 cup beer

This works best if you cure the meat ahead of time.

Remove excess fat from shoulder, cut into two-inch cubes. Blend together bay leaves, oregano, thyme and salt in a mortar and pestle until it’s a well mixed power. Add paprika and cumin. Season all the pork with the mixture, place in glass container and cover tightly. Let sit at least two hours, or overnight if possible. You can use the ceramic part of the crock pot for this.

Before cooking, slice onion and orange, peel and halve garlic, chop jalapenos. Heat about half the crisco or lard in a pan on the stove, begin browning pork pieces on medium high heat. Pieces do not need to be cooked through, but you’re trying to create a little crunch on the outside. After 5 minutes, add onions and oranges to the pan, stirring so the onions begin to turn translucent. With this much meat, I had to do this step in 2-3 batches.

Once meat is done being browned, place pork/onion/orange mixture in crock pot. Add garlic, black pepper, jalapenos, lime juice, orange juice and beer. Cook in crock pot on high for about 4 hours, or on low for about 8 hours. It helps if you can stir a few times during cooking, because there will not be enough liquid in the beginning to cover all the meat. Test meat for tenderness, if the chunks are easily torn apart, it is ready.

Remove meat from crock pot and liquid using slotted spoon, and using two forks to shred pork slightly. Serve with warm tortillas and a tangy lime jalapeno salsa.

Salsa:

One white onion, finely chopped

15-20 pickled jalapeno slices, seeded and chopped

Salt

Pepper

2 tsp lime juice

Mix all ingredients together, refrigerate until use.

I've made carnitas in the crock pot twice before and Beck's recipe looks pretty similar to what I did. I can't vouch for the salsa, as I haven't had it, but it looks great!

1 pork shoulder (mine was 4 lbs)

5-6 bay leaves

2 Tbsp oregano (dried or fresh)

1 Tbsp thyme (dried or fresh)

3 Tbsp kosher salt

1 tsp paprika

1 tsp cumin

4 Tbsp Crisco or lard

1 onion, sliced

1 orange, skin on, halved and sliced

5 cloves garlic, quartered

Few turns of black pepper from pepper mill

3 jalapenos, diced

2 limes, juiced

3/4 cup orange juice

3/4 cup beer

This works best if you cure the meat ahead of time.

Remove excess fat from shoulder, cut into two-inch cubes. Blend together bay leaves, oregano, thyme and salt in a mortar and pestle until it's a well mixed power. Add paprika and cumin. Season all the pork with the mixture, place in glass container and cover tightly. Let sit at least two hours, or overnight if possible. You can use the ceramic part of the crock pot for this.

Before cooking, slice onion and orange, peel and halve garlic, chop jalapenos. Heat about half the crisco or lard in a pan on the stove, begin browning pork pieces on medium high heat. Pieces do not need to be cooked through, but you're trying to create a little crunch on the outside. After 5 minutes, add onions and oranges to the pan, stirring so the onions begin to turn translucent. With this much meat, I had to do this step in 2-3 batches.

Once meat is done being browned, place pork/onion/orange mixture in crock pot. Add garlic, black pepper, jalapenos, lime juice, orange juice and beer. Cook in crock pot on high for about 4 hours, or on low for about 8 hours. It helps if you can stir a few times during cooking, because there will not be enough liquid in the beginning to cover all the meat. Test meat for tenderness, if the chunks are easily torn apart, it is ready.

Remove meat from crock pot and liquid using slotted spoon, and using two forks to shred pork slightly. Serve with warm tortillas and a tangy lime jalapeno salsa.

Salsa:

One white onion, finely chopped

15-20 pickled jalapeno slices, seeded and chopped

Salt

Pepper

2 tsp lime juice

Mix all ingredients together, refrigerate until use.

Mexican for white people.

It's clean, and the meat has a certain moistness to it... plus black pepper. The food is consistent.

Not entirely what I look for in Latin food. Where's the character? The Ikea across the street is a mirror image of Chipotle, but instead of bookcases, here it's carnitas.

I think I'm supposed to visit El Rey Del Taco on Friday to go taco bar hopping with the Buford Highway group, but HX and I need a quick meal tonight and this place is always a sure bet. The menu runs the gamut: Tacos, burritos, full plates, soups, salads, but our main reason to go here - Mini-tacos for $1.00 - one of the best deals on Buford Highway.

Tonight called for al pastor, chorizo and carnitas each on double, 4" corn tortillas (they hand make the tortillas during lunch and on the weekends). Had the cabeza (beef cheek) and barbacoa de chivo (goat) on my last visit - both tasty as well. A little squeeze of lime and some grilled onions. They deliver salsas to the table, but you don't really need them - the meats in this place stand alone. Another thing I like about this place - they always ask if you want cilantro. And they almost always confirm it back to you when you say NO. (You see, I have inherited the enzyme that allows me to taste phenylthiocarbamide - said gene also converts cilantro into an unpalatable amalgam of dish soap and chalk. This apparently is a genetic trait I share with about 40% of the population).

This place is huge for a taco stand, so it's good for groups, too.

So I guess I'll be back here on Friday - more then.

El Rey Del Taco
5288 Buford Highway
Doraville, GA 30340

A note on the pictures: What's up with the soft photos, Mr. Henri Alekan, Jr.? Here's the deal - I have three digital cameras - a first generation Canon A-5 (low-pixel count and the battery won't hold a charge), a Sony MiniDV (Zeiss lens, great video, but only 600K pixels for stills and it's awkard), and a Blackberry Pearl (1 megapixel), which being my phone - is always with me. Therefore, I take crappy photos on my phone and beat on them in Photoshop. I'm partial to the Orton effect, because it hides many flaws or perhaps because I'm partial to the work of the aforementioned Henri Alekan - but I don't have his grandmother's silk stockings...don't worry, I'm not going to explain that.

Carnitas (with tortillas, salsa fresca, refritos, and green rice)
Sangrita y Tequila
Pay de Chocolate

Can a rose by any other name smell as sweet? Can a band from France (and marginally, Spain) substitute for music actually by Latin American artists in a Mexican restaurant (and does it matter)? Can phenomenal Mexican cuisine come from people named Schnetz and Savitsky? All questions that I don't necessarily have the answers for as I contemplate the rest of my enormous carnitas platter over the mildly insipid Gipsy Kings.

At 5:15, I paced Temescal, grumbling at my own misfortune for the day, searching for culinary redemption. Noting that Pizzaiolo was closed for remodeling (they have since reopened), and not wanting Lanesplitters as consolation, I decided that a heaping plate of carnitas was the only solution.

Since they opened at 5:30, the restaurant was empty and I was swiftly placed at a table facing the kitchen, though obscured by the wall upon which they place steaming plates of food for delivery to the tables. I ordered food and drink at once. The food arrived almost instantly, before the tequila even appeared. Strange, but I suppose pork that has been stewing in its own, deliciously unkosher fat for hours doesn't need much time before serving. Undeterred, I proceeded, expecting luscious melty-crisp gluttony.

The carnitas were browned to a perfect crisp. The meaty insides... were DRY! How is that possible? I've had Doña Tomás' carnitas before, and they were heavenly! I could lessen the dryness by complementing it with refritos and salsa on a tortilla, but carnitas should be able to stand its own. I only finished half. That says much, regardless of massive serving size. And though I'd finished all the tortillas, couldn't they have thrown a couple into my takeout box, or at least asked?

I drowned my frustration in alternating swallows of sangrita and tequila. Thankfully, the tequila selection for this combination at Doña Tomás is far better than the default at Fonda, and the sangrita is refreshing rather than cloying. I ordered chocolate pie, and it too was not as good as remembered. The graham cracker crust was more crumbly than tender, for which I had previously lauded them; the chocolate was more firm and cold than creamy with an odd medicinal flavor. The enormous dollop of whipped cream detracted more than it complemented. It tasted like it had been sliced yesterday and abruptly pulled out of the refrigerator before serving.

I left, utterly disappointed and $46 poorer. For that much, I'd rather have a hamburger dinner at Wood Tavern. To be fair, I reheated the leftover carnitas in a microwave later that night and they melted into a much moister, much greasier, much less crisp but far more delicious mess. I've had some delicious and well-presented meals at Doña Tomás; perhaps this was an anomaly.

--

And once more, with feeling!

Restaurante Doña Tomás, Temescal, Oakland, CA.

Tostadas de Coliflor
Ensalada César
Sopa de Pescado (spicy soup with halibut cheeks, chard, fennel, potato, and avocado, accompanied by green rice)
Sangrita y Tequila

I returned with company less than a week later. The restaurant was only about two-thirds full at 8pm, a far cry from my expectations. Is there something about the post-holidays that slows down restaurant business? On the other hand, Pizzaiolo was overflowing, but they'd also just reopened. Is this indicative of a decline in the quality of food, as suggested by my previous meal?

This time, instead of placing my bets on one dish, I decided on a different tactic and ordered a number of "small" things. Do note the quotations; despite my best dietary intentions, nothing here is small.

My companion and I shared the tostadas, crispy tortillas topped with roasted cauliflower tossed with raisins, and pine nuts in a very spicy crema-based sauce. While it was fairly tasty, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was eating a strangely creamy cauliflower trail mix -- nothing quite pulled all of the elements together. The Mexican rendition of Caesar salad was a large plate of fresh, crisp romaine, well-dressed and topped with delicious croutons. (So far as I can tell, the only difference is that the dressing probably contains lime juice instead of lemon, and the cheese is cotija instead of parmesan.) The soup was excellent: large, tender-firm, flavorful halibut cheeks, sliced fennel bulb, potatoes and greens in a rich and wickedly spicy broth. I also stole a few bites of his carne asada with chimichurri -- an excellent choice.

Redemption, for now. This time I was okay with forking over another $45.