This is how I’m rollin’ right now: rooibos tea service at AQ. Photo: © tablehopper.com.
Greetings from Hopper HQ, which is currently doing double duty as a quarantine bubble. After being home sick for a week, I’m ready to hose this place down. Am still not sure what to do with myself—maybe a cattle dip would do the trick.
So after posting my annual rant on Tuesday, the bore, I can’t believe how entertaining my email inbox became. Seems there is a lot of frustration out there with everything from restaurants that make their own ketchup (but only provide diners a skimpy serving of it) to servers addressing a mixed table of men and women with “Hey, guys!” to a wonderful email from the inimitable Connie Green herself chiming in on my kvetch about faux-raging. Gold!
But wait, there’s more! (Of course.) Diners are fatigued of seeing “sustainable,” “locavore,” “gluten-free,” “homemade” (versus “housemade”), and, my personal favorite, “farm egg” on menus. No more tea-flavored desserts, charges for splitting/sharing and bread and butter, they decry. In addition to my rant about paninis, readers also chimed in on additional crimes against pluralization: raviolis and cannolis. And here’s a great language lesson for us all: “Also, along the same line as panino and panini—there are tamales (plural) and a tamal (single). Not tamale—no such word. Irritates me every time.” Thank you all for the awesome feedback—I’m already looking forward to next year.
As you may already know, I am busy cranking on a couple SF restaurant guidebooks this month, so I have zero time (or inspiration) to write up any restaurant reviews for tablehopper until these projects are finished, which will hopefully be in a couple weeks. Thanks for your patience with me this month. There are only so many restaurant reviews you can write in a day, let me tell you.
But in case you were thinking of heading up to wine country during these oddly sunny days, the fab Deirdre Bourdet has a couple very useful reports for us in the 707 Scout.
Have a great weekend (can this warm, dry weather be any creepier?). Salutations from the salt mines!