Inauguraton Day

If you are reading these posts in sequence it would appear that I blogged twice on Inauguration Day. Actually, I attempted to post the previous entry on Friday, but was thwarted by the internet system at UCSF, which failed to provide me with a network IP address. Happily this problem has clearly been addressed by the IT staff, and my link again works perfectly, allowing me to continue in the incredibly important task of documenting our dining out experiences while enduring 30 radiation treatments. And this post, mostly composed on Inauguration Day, has floated around in the ether for more than a week until I found the time to finish it.

Once again, we've had our lovely sequence of lunches interrupted by reality, this time in the form of the extreme amount of work it has taken to get our house ready to show to the public. Yes, we've arguably chosen the worst time in the last decade to put our house on the market; on the other hand, we're not desperate to sell, and if we're not happy with offers we will move to Plan B, whatever that might be. So a sandwich and a glass of beer at home is about all I could manage today, while Andrea used the toaster oven to heat up mini Chicken Tacos from Trader Joe's. Not quite in the same league as some of the lunches we've enjoyed. Not even close.

Meanwhile, on the treatment end the finish line is in sight. The facility was closed yesterday for MLK Day, but Andrea received two treatments on Friday and is going for two more this Friday. Also, today is the last of the 'proton' treatments; the remaining five appointments are for 'electron' radiation. These descriptions of the radiation were provided by the supervising doctor during the preliminary visit, but when Andrea mentioned them to the technicians they described the two forms of treatment differently, describing the second form of treatment as 'clinical.' There's a big difference in the routine. With the 'proton' treatment it is critical that the body is positioned to maximize the targeted area while minimizing the exposure of the rest of the body. This requires not only mini tattoos on the body, but also a bit of shoving around on the table to achieve the precise effect. During the treatment the machine moves around you and pulses, then relocates itself to a second position and pulses again. .The 'electron' treatment is administered through a customized sort of waveguide that fits on the machine. The machine remains stationary, and makes no noise at all. Of course all these details apply to Andrea's specific treatment, since every individual receives a customized protocol.

 The appointments have to be separated by at least six hours when you do two in a day. The way we handled it was to go in for an 8AM zap; then we drove back to San Rafael, where I went to my exercise class. From there we returned home and proceeded to work on the house, and finally back to the city for a 4:15PM session. Then we hung around since our daughter Sophie had agreed to meet us for dinner. We went to Calzone's, an Italian cafe on Columbus Avenue in San Francisco's legendary North Beach, right up the street from City Lights bookstore, an icon since the Beat era. After that we checked into Tommaso's, a restaurant right off Broadway on Kearney Street that has been around for decades. We were seated at the 'reserved at all times for the family' table, which got things off to a nice start. Tommaso's has just a few booths and some tables in the center of the room. The last time we visited, perhaps 20 years ago, it was quite dark, but has been repainted in a lighter style. The room includes a small counter, behind which is the centerpiece of their cooking, the wood-fired oven. A steady flow of pizzas passed in and out of the opening, manned by a pizzaiola who by all appearances had many years of experience. We opted for all sorts of dishes, too many dishes. These included deep fried calamari, ravioli and meatballs, eggplant (wood oven roasted in Parmigiana style,)and a spinach salad with Parmesan and nuts. To this we added a liter of house red, which they graciously allowed us to taste before commiting. This was about two dishes too many for three people, since servings are generous and hearty. The pizza we ordered was quite simple, with just pepperoni and cheese, since there is a generational difference in acceptable ingredients when it comes to pizza (we favor eggplant and mushrooms, which are no-no's on pizza to Sophie.) This came out as your basic house-made pizza, with an inbetween crust that was neither thin nor thick, and a light topping of tomato sauce with plenty of cheese. While not dramatic or mind-blowing, it was quite delicious. The hit of the evening had to be the ravioli, which are definitely house-made and masterful. The two large meatballs somehow managed to be delicate and light without containing excessive breading, which is quite a trick to pull off. Our friend Brooke says it is probably like the technique for arrivng at light matzo balls: don't over-compress them or handle them too much before baking. I would hazard a guess that they also use more bread crumbs than I might be inclined to add, but I have to say I enjoyed their rendition. Tommaso's tomato sauce is chunky and elemental, with just tomatoes, some olive oil, a hint of herbs and not a heck of a lot more. To pull this off requires the use of high-quality tomatoes, and it would not surprise me to find large cans of San Marzano tomatoes imported from Italy in the storehouse. The spinach salad was relentlessly fresh, and again, only the highest-quality ingredients found their way into the dish. Calamari, served first, was obviously fried in the cleanest of oil, and was exactly the right texture; the moment you over-cook calamari it turns to rubber. In my experience it only comes out right in Italian and Thai restaurants, and Tommaso's has it down. They use larger pieces than most places, so there is a higher ratio of 'insides' to breading, making it more of a meal than an appetizer, all the more reason why there were leftovers.

Prices are quite moderate, especially given the generous serving sizes and the quality of ingredients. Tommaso's shines because they don't attempt to do too many things; they cook simply but tastefully and their specialties are done professionally. It is old school at its finest; vintage recipes and cooking techniques executed with a high degree of care.

The Sunny Mediteranée

The blogging project has been subject to some drift lately. On a couple of occasions we ran out of time, and I resorted to my old standby, the Cheesesteak Shoppe. I am happy to report that this return visit, one of many I have made over the years, did nothing to lessen my high opinion of their Philly cheesesteak. We also were blindsided by the fact that many Asian restaurants have chosen Tuesday as their day off, a fact that we could have easily researched in advance but simply neglected to do. One day when we left the house late we stopped in at a new taqueria in San Rafael (Marin County.) This was a perfectly good experience, and I made the age-old mistake of eating something larger than my head, or at least so it seemed as I downed a chicken molé super burrito. While fully appreciative of the generous amounts of chicken provided therein, the taqueria was merely competent, like so many others, and the recipes and salsas completely predictable. So why go further? Just another taqueria among many, and like most, they don't hand-press their corn tortillas, which immediately marks them as simply ordinary.

Yesterday things took a turn for the better; we decided to try La Mediteranée, a cafe located just south of Pacific Heights in the chic part of Fillmore Street. This neighborhood, and Fillmore Street in particular, has steadily climbed upward and now sports elegant boutiques as well as a host of restaurants. Many of the city's popular restaurants are flocking to this area, opening new outposts. Notable are Dosa (second location) and Pizzeria Delfina (second location, plus they run a full restaurant next door to their Mission District pizza shop.) SPQR is another notable, and it is the second restaurant from a group that also runs A16 in the Marina area on the north side of San Francisco.

La Mediteranée, in contrast, has been on Fillmore for a while. It is a small cafe with a few compact outside tables that specializes in what looks for all the world to be Lebanese food, plus some daily fresh fish specials. We were seated outside immediately; Andrea settled on a falafel sandwich, while I was planning to opt for the Lebanese Plate, which offered a choice of three items from a fairly extensive list of Lebanese specialities like Pomegranate Chicken, dolmades, hummus and many more. As we were ordering the diners next to us received their meal. Andrea asked what one of their dishes was, and it turned out to be a Chicken Shwarma sandwich. It looked so good that I ordered it instead of the variety plate.

As we waited for food it was hard to believe it was the middle of winter. The Bay Area had record-shattering warmth that day, beating the old maximums by quite a bit, so we basked in 70-degree air, and I sat on the sunny side of the table and absorbed a decent dose of sunlight, which hopefully sufficed to boost my vitamin D. The latest research has elevated the importance of this vitamin as a factor in maintaining good health; it seems to affect calcium absorption, which can in turn affect bone density. It also seems to be a factor in the prevention of cancer. So even though my skin tends to burn very quickly, I have become more tolerant of the sun (Andrea and I call it 'Mean Mister Sun',) albeit only for short periods, and the time afforded for lunch at the cafe was just right.

The food exceeded expectations. Both sandwiches were served in a rolled-up lavosh bread, the same sort of wrap used in Levantine Sandwiches. This had been made crisp, probably with a brief stay under a salamander broiler, and had a pleasant crunch to it as you bit through. The fillings offered all the usual flavors of Lebanese dishes, but were exceptionally balanced so each spice and condiment shone through; a hint of mint here, a dash of cinnamon there. Although the portion on the plate did not appear enormous, it proved to be quite filling, and the sides were equally caloric regardless of the diminutive serving size. One of the tastiest was a potato salad, with the potatoes chopped finely, blended with some parsley and lightly pickled in a vinaigrette. There was even a neatly arranged bit of fruit, which washed down the rich flavors nicely at the end. All in all, a delicious outing and an unexpected pleasure as we basked in the mid-winter, very summer-like weather.

Heck of a Way to Get a Tan

I am nothing if not sensitive to feedback from my followers, all 9 of you if you exclude me (the Sharps) and Andrea. And one comment that has returned from the field is that while the food part of the blog is entertaining, we have not heard all that much about radiation.

The good news in this regard is that the treatment, in Andrea's case, has been routine. This is nothing to complain about, and hardly minimizes the entire process of sitting through 30 sessions of being zapped. But this is not a story about dramatic experiences; rather, the process is almost eerily calm and ordered. This is not the case for all recipients of radiation treatment, which is something you discover when you share a changing room with patients destined for the four different machines at this particular facility at University of California, San Francisco.

Thanks to my daughter Rosie, I have become a reader of Wired magazine. Although they sometimes make me ill with their over-printed, over-inked, overly-glossy and glitzy style, I have to admit that there are some damn good writers covering some topics that don't see much light of day in other publications. The most recent issue had an article about cancer that in essence says the spending pyramid is inverted - - that is, 90 percent of money is spent on patients with Stage 3 or Stage 4 cancers, which are the two most advanced states. This is not surprising; as they point out, these are husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, sons and daughters - - loved ones, in deep peril. So no expense is spared. The point they bring forth is that if the spending was on early detection there would be few cases that progress to this difficult and expensive-to-deal-with degree.

Andrea is a prime example of the advantages of early detection. Thanks to the routine program at Kaiser Northern California, her relatively minuscule tumor was caught early, perhaps not has early as is technologically possible, but pretty close. So dealing with this tumor via lumpectomy, radiation and prescription drug therapy (Arimidex) is pretty cut and dried (ouch!) The therapy is not perfect; perhaps three to five percent of patients who undergo this protocol will have a recurrence in five years. Ninety-five percent or more will not. They will simply be cured by surgery, 30 treatments and five years of pill popping, one a day.

That does not mean that the treatment is inconsequential, and that it is not without its unique effects on the patient. For one thing, there are the nice gowns. You need to change into a gown before treatment, and you only undress and cover with a gown the section of you that needs treatment. Breast people get a bathrobe-style top that opens in the front. These are very soft, since they've been washed and sanitized many times, and provide a degree of comfort that offsets the coldness and starkness of lying on a highly adjustable metal table that can accommodate the myriad positions required to direct the radiation to the desired spot. Another strange source of comfort is the large circle in the ceiling of the treatment area. When the lights are off, it looks more or less like conventional acoustical tile. But when back-lit, someone has taken the trouble to put patterns of celestial constellations into it. It reminds Andrea of visiting the Planetarium in the Museum of Natural History as a child. The upper part of the machine rotates around you to pinpoint its action; in Andrea's case it then pivots to the other side and repeats the treatment. Radiation treatment is not a single therapy; different types (wavelengths) are used for various purposes. Five weeks of her treatment is with proton radiation. This is a penetrating emission, which is one reason all the positioning is so critical. You don't want to shoot it into parts of the body that don't need it, so it is directed more or less horizontally across the treatment area, from the side. At the end of the five weeks she will receive one week of electron radiation. This is directed right at the treatment area, but does not penetrate deeply at all.

The type of radiation you receive, the length of treatment and any concurrent therapies vary completely from patient to patient and by type of cancer. Each treatment, no matter how routine on the surface, is in fact custom-designed to the situation and physical being of each individual. Among those sharing the changing room one day was a woman needing radiation for the eye; obviously this is a whole different protocol than the breast, or than a prostate gland.

As you look up to the glass surface of the radiation source, childish stickers have been plastered around the metal surrounding the central glass cover. While these might be thought of as lame they provide a humanizing and slightly comic contrast to the sterile and frightening presence of this device looming over you.

Returning again to our patient, we are ever vigilant in looking out for symptoms of and reactions to treatment. Most commonly reported are sunburn of a sort, and fatigue, which build up as the weeks go by and sessions accumulate. So far, so good. Maybe a little redness on the skin, which is alleviated at least somewhat by the lotions provided by the facility. Still, it's a heck of a way to get a tan. This could very well get worse, but we are told that it goes away fairly promptly after the end of treatment. As for fatigue, it has not taken an undue toll so far, and in fact Andrea's energy has been notably high. On occasion Andrea has had some random sharp twinges in the treatment area. This too they say is routine, and is not at all constant.

So we have our fingers crossed and will hope for the best. If you don't see that much more about radiation treatment and instead quite a bit more about dining out, you'll know that all is well.

Mayflower Sinks, Pizza Rises

Sorry to be lagging a bit; it's time to catch up with the end of the second week while we move into the third. We had a day off (Christmas) so there were only four eating out opportunities, as well as treatments, last week. We returned to the Mayflower with high expectations, and even dragged two of our friends there for a Christmas Eve lunch. Maybe it was the large number of people ordering fancy dishes like lobster to celebrate, or maybe the chief cook had the day off; whatever the reason, the Mayflower let us down. Dishes that were both novel and nicely prepared just a week ago were suddenly sticky, misshapen, not as crisp, and not as neatly served. I can't blame this simply on being busy, since the Mayflower seemingly serves an overflow crowd every day at lunch (we have not visited for dinner.)Rather than dwell upon the negative, let me simply suggest that there could be a consistency problem at the Mayflower, or it could just be the one bad day out of many good ones. San Francisco is overstocked with good restaurants in every price range. It might be a while before we give the Mayflower another chance.

In what might be seen as an exercise in masochism, we cooked up a couple of our Chinese specialties for our Christmas party for 10. Apparently we can not get too much of a good thing. On the menu were egg rolls and scallion pancakes. There is a lesson to be learned here, which was further reinforced by our added self-flagellation when cooking latkes last night: fried food is best served right from the cooking vessel. The less time spent between hot oil and your plate, the better. Unfortunately, the dynamics of the party dictated that we do advance prep. Thus the oven was used to keep both scallion pancakes and egg rolls at a palatable temperature. While the egg rolls only suffered mildly, the scallion pancakes lost most of their moisture and became scallion pancake crackers. While they were still appreciated by our friends, I have to think that overall they were being charitable. This is quite sad, because a freshly cooked scallion pancake is a wonderment, and while our version may not have achieved world-beating status, it is already better than 74.8% of restaurants, and it's going up the charts with a bullet. I will let you all know when we have perfected it. BUT - - you'll have to taste it right from the stove!

We went into the city with our daughter Sophie on Friday, day after Christmas, with every intention of having lunch at Dosa on Fillmore Street. This is the second outpost of this very successful restaurant, and I can attest that after a recent dinner, I completely grok their achievement, namely, taking Indian ingredients and recipes and doing two things with them. First, they reinvent traditional recipes but make them healthful by reducing gratuitous fats. And second, they appreciate the aesthetic of Indian cooking and use ingredients and cooking methods to create novel but relevant dishes and variants. But enough about Dosa; we will return for lunch and will cover this fascinating restaurant in more detail. What transpired instead was that we got there about 10 minutes before opening, which led to a somewhat aimless ramble up Fillmore Street. This section of Fillmore, above (that is, north) of Geary Ave and below Pacific Heights is a wealth of independent businesses; wine bars, Japanese restaurants from the Japantown era, hair salons, and perhaps the last outpost of stores that sell modern lifestyle accessories. I am not sure what to call a shop like this; some among us might recall Design Research, which sought out beautiful, useful (and perhaps useless) items for the office, dining room and bedroom, many sourced from Scandinavia. Fillmore Street has a few such places, along with boutiques, liquor stores with global Champagne selections, and so on. A Yuppie paradise if I ever did see one. In the process of drifting up this panoply of goods and services, we once again espied Defina Pizza. This is the third enterprise of the burgeoning Defina empire, which now includes their Mission District restaurant; the adjacent pizza outlet; and this more recent pizzeria just off Fillmore. We had eaten there before, but suddenly it beckoned once again. Oddly, there were a few parties waiting outside, despite the fact that we walked up after the putative 11:30AM opening time; turns out that, since it was the day after Christmas, they had arbitrarily moved the opening time up to a hangover-friendly 12 noon. So we dutifully got in line, and were quickly seated. Delfina makes a pizza with a thin crust and bubbly seared edge. They incorporate only the highest-quality ingredients. When it comes to pizza, this is a winning formula, since ingredients are few and flavors stand out starkly. Their salads are equally fresh, and are dramatic only because each component is packed with flavor. A calzone we ordered came packed with esoteric, delicious meats and startlingly fresh ricotta cheese. While it did not seem huge on the plate, the richness and quality of the ingredients were immensely satisfying. In fact, about the only thing I can find to complain about was the background music. This was clearly chosen by a meth addict who dialed in the selection from a mental hospital. The restaurant is loud enough without music, like so many ill-conceived spaces where the owner somehow mistakes chaotic noise for excitement. If they only knew that at least half or more of their clients are gritting their teeth praying for the music to be turned down. Now let it be said that, having reached the age of 60, I am in peril of being called a fuddy-dud. And our daughter at first did indeed compare the music to the Rolling Stones - - "It's no different" - - only to change her mind about 12 minutes later, and say, "You're right - - the music does suck." What you had on the overhead speakers was some continuous version of the primal scream. It would not have been quite so awful if it had not also been turned up to a level that rode over the already-tumultuous riot of conversation. So: Delfina - - if you're listening - - not all of your clients are 12-year old pubescent boys in rebellion against the system. Don't let the guy that takes out the garbage select your audio selections for the day. Keep making that delicious food; turn down the volume and do take stock of your actual clientele. I think most of them would not be heartbroken if the level dropped about 20 decibels. That said, you still get four out of five stars in my book.

Korean Lunch Nirvana

After the frustration of circling around Fourth and Balboa yesterday in search of a new Korean lunch experience, we were ready to join the hunt with new enthusiasm today. Our destination this time was Han Il Kwan, also on Balboa Street, which gave us fear of 'deja vu all over again.' Much like the area we had struck out in the previous try, this is a short block of commercial enterprises located in a largely residential area. Again, no turnover-encouraging parking meters. But for whatever reason, perhaps the lack of popularity of surrounding businesses, we were able to drive right up and get a spot within half a block of the restaurant. Right as you get up to the door you realize this is not your usual neighborhood joint, thanks to the sign that designates the parking area in front of the restaurant as a "no parking except tour bus" zone during business hours. One might wonder just what kind of tour would go to what is by all appearances an obscure Korean restaurant; perhaps the gourmand tour of San Francisco's undiscovered gems? No, actually it is more of a 'coals to Newcastle' scenario; after we'd been in our seats for about 15 minutes, a big shiny bus rolled up and disgorged about 45 Koreans, who shuffled into the back room, which is set up with long tables and obviously exists specifically to feed these tour groups. We had to ask ourselves, if we went on a tour of Seoul, would we look for MacDonald's? On the other hand, Han Il Kwan delivers some serious quality (as well as quantity) of food. So they probably could not have come to a better place.

But never mind all that; the restaurant swallowed up this group and large amounts of food soon emerged on what was obviously a pre-selected menu. We instead concentrated on the highly affordable Lunch Special menu, featuring only nine choices. I predictably settled on the Pork BBQ, which is marinated in 'special spicy sauce,' largely based on Gochujang, which is a paste of sweet peppers, red chile and fermented soybeans that is remarkably tasty. A large Korean market will typically offer multiple brands of Gochujang, usually in three levels of hotness. They probably used medium for their marinade; the recipes I've followed to make this at home require only that the pork sit in the mixture for 15 minutes or so. Most marinades will have just a few additional ingredients added, in small quantities: a bit of soy sauce, a little sugar, and some garlic. This version arrived sizzling on a cast-iron platter. Despite the humble and streamlined ingredient list, the flavor of this rendition was deep and complex, arguably the best I've ever had. Andrea elected the Seafood Combination Beebim Bap (their spelling.) This dish basically resembles fried rice, except it's usually served in some kind of pot. Han Il Kwan used a cast iron pot that had two endearing characteristics. First, it kept the food hot through the entire meal. And it seared some of the rice mixture to the bottom, creating a crusty skin with a smoky rich flavor. She asked about the seafood, which was comprised of scallops, shrimp and squid. All these are either cut into petite morsels, or in the case of the shrimp, are the small Bay type. Andrea, not a fan of mushy eggs, requested hers "cooked through," which was not an alien concept to the waiter. Some soy sauce, and perhaps other flavorings, are added, although the emphasis here is on comfort and simplicity. The net effect was simply stunning.

As mentioned in the earlier blog about New Korea House, one of the mainstays of Korean dining is banchan (or panchan.) These are the small dishes brought out, usually as appetizers, at the beginning of every meal. In this regard Han Il Kwan both exceeded expectations and in some ways let us down, but overall the scales tip in favor of 'exceed.' This is thanks to two mini Bean Pancakes; you can spend $11 and get a gigantic one, but unless you're going to share it among four or more people, it will be more pancake than you want. The minis were just perfect, and were unique. They also serve a complimentary Soft Tofu Soup, again brought out in a cast iron vessel, and more than enough to serve two. The broth had a drop of hot oil in it, and tiny pieces of highly stewed beef. Rich and reassuring. A nice touch were the lightly pickled cucumber wedges, which were reminiscent of half-dill pickles from New York's Lower East Side. The rest of the banchan ranged from competent to somewhat boring; beautiful thin green beans were crunchy but bland, the kimchee was good but not exceptional; the pickled turnip was perfectly competent; the bean sprouts were wilted and uninspiring. But who cares? There was such a wealth of food that there was no way to consume all this stuff anyway, at least not without purging. And we haven't come to that.

The setting was remarkably pleasant. Large vents hover over the tables, which are inset with a cooking grill. Han Il Kwan uses gas burners, which appear to be downdraft-ventilated, so it is possible that the overhead vents are a remnant of previous charcoal-based grills. If we go back for dinner I can further research and perhaps verify this; the deal of a lifetime appears to be the dinner for four, which is loaded with courses and ends up at $105 for the whole group. Looks like tons of fun to me, and if they say it feeds four, it probably will generate leftovers for everyone for days. The back wall is covered by large mirrors, interrupted by dual entrances to the banquet/tour group room. Booths run around the perimiter, with free-standing tables in the middle (no cook-at-your-table vents.) A modest selection of Korean beer and sake are offered at moderate prices. Service was quite friendly if a bit scattered (because they knew the tour was about to land,)and English was spoken. Folks, we have a winner in the Great Korean Lunch category. Next time you're leading your tour of great San Francisco ethnic eateries, you would be remiss to miss Han Il Kwan.

New Week, Old Favorite

Honestly we tried. Attempted to visit something new and report on it. But the neighborhood where this particular Korean restaurant is located is unfortunate from the perspective of finding a parking space. Unlike most commercial districts in San Francisco, this one lacks parking meters, and although there is a two hour limit on parking, most of the vehicles looked as if they were cemented in place. We did see a couple of lucky souls get a space, but alas, despite circumnavigating the neighborhood three times, nothing.

Since we were already in the Richmond district, it was a very short hop over to Clement Street, one of the hubs of Asian shopping, eating and living. And we found a meter within one short block of the Taiwan. This restaurant has been a mainstay of our 'cheap eats' dining out almost since we first came to California. I need to check in with the management to figure out the year the Taiwan was founded, but it had to be the early 1970's at the latest. The menu here is pretty much the usual laundry list of dishes, but there are a number of standouts. Steamed dumplings are meticulously prepared by one or two men working in the front window; during crowded times you can stand in the entry way and get increasingly famished as you watch mountains of dough and five-gallon containers of ground pork filling transformed into dozens upon dozens of dumplings, ready for steaming, frying or boiling. This is also one of the best places to have Kuo Teh (pot stickers,) since they too are freshly made and incorporate the same delicious filling. Another area of the menu filled with treasures is the noodle section; today we enjoyed a hefy bowl of Szechuan Spicy Noodles. These are pretty much your standard-issue egg/wheat noodle, but the sauce is what makes it interesting. It is a creamy peanut sauce, with some ground pork thrown in, and a dab of hot oil. There is a vegetarian version that omits the pork, but that we will leave for others to explore. This dish, similar to if not identical to Dan Dan noodles, is surprisingly hardy, and we soon realized that one bowl ($5.25) could in fact be sufficient lunch for both of us. That did not stop us from ordering a plate of Dry Braised String Beans. These are seared in a wok with a bit of oil, which makes the skin crackle a bit yet leaves the insides tender. These come with a bit of ground pork, and a dark sauce that probably contains soy sauce, a touch of sugar and maybe a bit of bean sauce as well. Like most of their dishes, these are not overly seasoned, yet offer distinctive tastes. Our final item was Steamed Dumplings, which lived up to their previous high level of quality; in fact, we saw our order being made from the raw ingredients straight through to the steaming. Fresh, and delightful.

All this was of course too much for one sitting, so our waitress neatly filled two carry out containers without spilling one morsel, better, I am sure, than either of us could do. It seems to be a custom to order more than you need, specifically so as to create leftovers; we've noticed that nearly every table in the predominately Asian restaurants we frequent seems to leave with a bag or two of the ubiquitous little white wire-handled containers.

The Taiwan is decidedly not about dining elegance. The room is narrow with small tables for two or four down each side, and a center with a few larger tables. Our friends call it the Pink Palace, thanks to the generous use of this color on both the exterior and interior surfaces. The room actually has a high walkway, which seems to offer access to some of their storage; the whole effect is somewhat like sitting in a stunted cathedral. That being said, the service has always been friendly once you get used to the rapid pace of the place, which can really get hopping. Perhaps the most amazing thing about the restaurant is the consistency; the dishes we ordered in the 1970's are delivered today with the same flavors and textures that made us believers in the first place.

As for the second week of radiation: nothing to report yet. That is, I am using my new ultra-portable Acer Aspire One to blog in real time. As I sit here digesting Andrea is back in the treatment area. After this visit she will have her brief weekly meeting with her supervising doctor, who is the one who has primary responsibility for the design and course of her treatment. If there's anything outside of the routine you can be sure you will read it here.

What a Difference a Day Makes

The quest for 30 different restaurants in 30 days was broken yesterday by the already-blogged, disappointing return to King Won Ton and Noodle on Irving Street, which did prove to have good dumpling soups, but not much else to entice us back in the future. Having felt the bitterness of a day wasted in trying to put a new place on our map, we fell back today to a familiar friend: Shanghai Dumpling King. This unassuming joint on Balboa Street has an extensive menu, but the stellar items for us are the dumplings. More specifically the xiao long bao (often called 'soup noodle dumpling') are always a treat. These are a small steamed dumpling with a pork filling and about a teaspoonful or less of rich broth inside. How you get the broth to stay inside is one of those special skills that not all that many cooks seem to have mastered; in fact the very concept is audacious. Happily, at Shanghai Dumpling King they have it down to a science. Ten of these little delights arrive in a bamboo steamer tray, along with a small dish with vinegar, slivers of ginger and soy sauce blended. You might consider letting them sit for a minute, because the broth within is probably about the same temperature as the surface of the sun, and will burn your mouth if you dive right in, tempting as they are, when they hit the table. The skins are quite thin, and the whole experience is a delight. We followed this up with what they call Pan Fried Pork Buns. Usually you associate this with a large, doughy bun, but again these are compact, with eight to a serving. They are fried on one side much like a pot sticker, but are round and stand about 3/4 of an inch high.Our final entree on Friday was a Green Onion Pancake, a standard of many Chinese restaurants. Unlike our last experience, this pancake came closer to our ideal, with a flaky texture.

Accommodations at Shanghai Dumpling King are quite modest; there are only a couple of tables in the first room, with a small dining room holding perhaps eight tables of different sizes. The good news is that you are close enough to everyone else to facilitate spying on their choices without too much obvious craning of your neck. But it is hardly a place to linger. No matter; with food as good as this it makes it all worthwhile, and the service is always courteous if not unctuous. When we came at lunch the front room was flooded with high schoolers from George Washington High right up the street, gathering up their takeout orders and adding condiments. It was quite a scene, with dozens of teens gabbing and grabbing their food, but then it was over just as quickly as it started.

We've been on a campaign to avoid parking meters in San Francisco, and have been remarkably successful. There is street parking, if you look for a little while, within two blocks of the UCSF facility. Similarly, if you don't mind walking a block or so you can find spots quite close to our favorite restaurant areas. This is, of course, a silly economy, since the most expensive part of the trip is crossing the Golden Gate Bridge every day to the tune of five bucks (six if you don't have a Fast Pass transponder.) Add a couple gallons of gas, currently down to two dollars each and you've already spent $9. But it is irksome to feed a quarter into a meter and get only ten lousy minutes in return. And carrying around all those quarters is not all that much fun either. So finding the free parking is our way of striking back; never mind the folly of it all.

One final thought about crossing the bridge: it has become a high point of the five-day-a-week trek to the big city. Each day brings something new; a large container ship passing underneath; the Farallon Islands visible (or not) on the horizon; the interplay of sunlight and clouds on the headlands and over the city. We were even treated to the sight of snow on Mount Diablo, something not unheard of but nonetheless rare. So as we pass through the Rainbow Tunnel on Highway 101 South and descend the curves down to the Gate, there is a small tingle of anticipation as to what new visual treats the scene will offer this day. Our appreciation of both the natural and man-made beauty of this area has been heightened, despite having lived here for nearly 40 years.

Of course the destination in all this is the radiation facility, and in this regard, we have a new countdown: one week down, five and a half to go. The extra half of a week comes about because of the intervening holidays; UCSF is closed for Christmas, New Year's and MLK Day, so treatments need to be added on at the end so they total to 30. But - - one sixth of the program is completed, and the patient seems not particularly worse for the wear. We've been cautioned that side effects like fatigue and skin irritation come a few weeks in, but for now all goes well and the more routine the better. Andrea has described a few sensations that occur periodically, one of which is that "the whole experience feels like you are a bug." And a couple of days ago she thought she felt the treatment going through her. This is undoubtedly the product of a rich and fervent imagination, but ya feels what ya feels. In the grand scheme of things, however, it must be said, so far, so good.