Volume 1 Issue 5 
The weather lately has been frightful, but last week we had a few days of respite as the sun peaked from behind the clouds. My friend Steve and I were thinking about what we could do (meaning the three of us, of course), and he mentioned Muir Beach, a spot he frequented often with his Irish setter, Kelly, way back when. I remembered hearing about a place called the Pelican Inn nearby, so I decided to combine business with pleasure and check it out.
country setting reminiscent of England’s southwest coast. 
Our amiable server had a light Irish lilt and could be heard whistling in the kitchen.
The fish and chips ($15) were quite good, made with farm-raised cod, which unlike Atlantic cod, is sustainable. Two hearty pieces are dipped in house-made ale batter and fried to order, producing firm but flaky white flesh swathed in a puffy, crunchy crust with little residual grease. The chips, unfortunately, disappointed. I like thick-cut potatoes without skins that are light gold in color, a little floppy but still crisp and soft within (the best I’ve had are at London Bridge in Monterey); the Pelican leaves the skins on medium-cut slices that are entirely too floppy. The secret to proper English chips (crisp outside, soft inside, the right amount of “flop”) is to double fry them (as they do at London Bridge and at Piccadilly in San Francisco) — once at about 300 degrees for a few minutes and again, with the oil about 50 degrees hotter, just before serving.
I’m not a big beer drinker (as in Bud), but the Pelican Inn begs for beer drinking, offering seven on tap and over 30 by the bottle hailing from around the world. I loved the Morland “Hen’s Tooth” Bottle Conditioned English Ale ($7.50/550 ml) with its amber hue, frothy, bitter head, and smooth not-too-sweet finish. There’s also an international cellar list that highlights both New and Old World wines, with an emphasis on artisan producers utilizing organic or biodynamic production.
Rustic wooden tables lit by taper candles in brass holders, walls lined with cushion-topped benches, a long farmer’s table on one side and a blazing fireplace on the other add to the 16th-century charm. Busboys stoke the wood between picking up empty plates; seats tucked behind walls that drop down from either side of the huge mantle provide two private nooks for reading or cuddling (though with my Sicilian hot-bloodedness, close proximity to the flames was not appealing).
The Pelican Inn kitchen has frying down pat (except for the chips). Tender greens from the Green Gulch Farm in a lemony herb dressing provide a nice contrast in texture and flavor.
custard filling. This version was far too dense and doughy.
Her appearance on Top Chef – Chicago, the fourth season of the popular Bravo Channel series, made her a household face, but Jenn Biesty’s aspirations began much more humbly at the age of 16 while bussing tables at a friend’s family restaurant in her native Brooklyn, New York. 
Some folks are waxing poetic about the loss of Clown Alley, with its dirt-cheap hamburgers and nostalgia, but I’m not one of them. Last week I went to what used to be a depressing late-night hangout where drunks snarfed down greasy food and found not only a fabulous remodel by designer Michael Brennan (cozy booths, a fireplace, and a retractable roof), but also the best burger in San Francisco. 
Sides are not typical burger joint fare, either, including creamy deviled eggs, caramelized Brussels sprouts, and a “Pot of Pickles” (an assortment of house pickled veggies). They need to work on the beer batter for the Vidalia onion rings — it was too thin and fell off, leaving a pile of crispy bits and naked onions — but they just opened a week ago, so I’m sure they’ll work out the few kinks. There’s also a veggie burger, ahi tuna burger, hot dogs, a chicken sandwich, salads, and pastas. If you just want to sample the meat, try the sliders (mini burgers). Dessert includes East Coast-style soft frozen custard to make sundaes (with optional mix-ins like pistachios, bananas and Nutella). Wash it all down with soda, beer or wine; the wine list includes carafes, which a penny-pincher always appreciates. 
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When I brought her home, she had no idea what furniture was (that has changed) and, to my amazement, the ocean scared her to death.
Just 30 minutes of windy roads or so from the Golden Gate Bridge, the Pelican Inn nestles between the ocean, Muir Woods, and the great redwoods of the Golden Gate National Recreational Area. When you drive up the gravel path, you feel like you’re in another world — it’s hard to conceive that a bustling city is a short jaunt from this idyllic
Muir Beach is small and sheltered by rolling hills, perfect for dogs to run and play. Jazzy met a boyfriend, a handsome lab-mastiff mix named Sklyer visiting from Tahoe (with his equally handsome human). An hour or so later she had flirted her way to exhaustion, and Steve and I parked my car under some shady trees in the parking lot of the Pelican Inn. With the afternoon cooled by the ocean breeze and Jazzy snoring away on her dog bed in back, we headed to the patio for a late lunch. Set beneath a glass atrium covered in twinkling lights, big white paper lanterns, and fuchsia bougainvillea, the patio is warmed by heat lamps and a wood-burning fireplace.
We started with a pub grub classic, bangers and mash ($10), glistening pork sausages with a thin, caramelized outside and soft, moist inside. They’re served with HP (a British brown sauce named after the houses of Parliament; sort of a thicker A1), spicy mustard, mashed potatoes and, to my surprise, bright green, fresh English peas, which, I found out from our server, are grown on a local farm. I was less thrilled with the mash because the skins were mixed in — I prefer my mashed potatoes without the skins, simply whipped with butter, cream and salt.
We were excited about the English Dip sandwich ($12) made with thinly sliced prime rib. There was good reason to be excited — the dinner menu features prime rib, so we assumed these slices came from the fresh roast. Instead we received flavorless brown shoe leather that had either been heated in the microwave or boiled in the au jus too long. English sherry trifle ($6.50) ended our lunch on a sugar high note, with luscious layers of sherry-soaked sponge cake, creamy custard and raspberries. Tom and Dave’s, an award-winning coffee from San Rafael, was poured from elegant silver pots with lumps of raw sugar and cream alongside. Sitting back on the lovely patio sipping coffee and watching horses play at the stables across the way, I realized that the Pelican Inn is quite possibly the quaintest dining destination in the entire Bay Area. Because the three of us had so much fun, we decided to head back the next day. We parked under the same shady tree on a remarkably similar afternoon and headed back to our favorite table on the patio. This time we started with some of the most perfect shepherd’s pie ($11) I’ve ever had — freshly ground lamb and vegetables in a hearty gravy topped with blessedly skin-free mashed potatoes and bubbling cheddar cheese. When ground beef is used, it’s called cottage pie, which is what you’ll find in most American pubs, but the lamb adds a gaminess and a richness that I prefer. While you might expect it to be heavy, the Pelican’s version is surprisingly not.
We decided to hike off the shepherd’s pie with another visit to Muir Beach and the surrounding trails. This time we remembered to bring a tennis ball. Jazzy doesn’t care for fetch, except when there’s water involved. While her muscular frame prevents her from competing on dry land, it propels her through the waves like Moses ahead of the stunned retrievers and labs. She’s a sore loser, shaking the ball in their face and prancing around them in circles. “No one likes an always-winner,” I told her as she chased away playmate after playmate. Another exhausted pit bull snoring on her bed later, Steve and I returned to the Pelican Inn for dinner, this time in the cozy dining room.
We started with the seasonal soup ($7), a straightforward button mushroom puree with butter and garlic topped with crunchy croutons. It was simple and satisfying, served with a basket of organic spelt flour rye bread from the neighboring Green Gulch Farm Zen Center and room temperature butter, which I always appreciate. Breaded Dungeness crab and cod cakes ($15) have a fluffy filling that bursts with balanced notes of both crab and fish.
Succulent mussels ($15) come in fresh on Thursday and are only available through Saturday, steamed with Pelican Ale (made by Lagunitas Brewing Company), kale, and herb butter, and topped with fries. The only entrée that doesn’t contain meat, poultry or fish, yellow vegetable curry ($15), is not a thoughtless throw-away like a lot of vegetarian options at meat-centric restaurants, but rather a tantalizing array of veggies with basmati rice, cucumber yogurt sauce, and an unexpectedly dramatic fried lentil wafer folded like a napkin and standing on end. Steve’s plate-filling hunk of prime rib ($29) was pink and tender, served with a roasted medley of red potatoes, carrots, onions, and beets. A muffin-sized Yorkshire pudding was less successful — I make it at home often, and it should be airy with an almost egg
Beef Wellington ($29) is worth the trip alone — seared filet mignon topped with finely chopped wild mushrooms and duck liver, wrapped in homemade puff pastry and baked. I cut into the flaky, steaming pastry to find medium-rare, juicy beef. Wellington, especially traditional Wellington, is nearly impossible to find at restaurants. Having made it at home, I know why: it’s a time-consuming task that requires skill and experience — once the meat is baking in the pastry, there’s no way to test doneness. This past New Year’s Eve, I overcooked mine (apologies to my dinner guests), which is easy to do. I’m so tired of chocolate lava cake that you could chase me with it, but I must admit the Pelican Inn’s version ($6.50) — thin cocoa walls cracked open to release molten dark chocolate — was worth the 15-minute wait. Unfortunately, the inn’s seven rooms don’t allow pets, so lingering for a nightcap beside the fireplace in the Tudor bar, filled with inn guests, locals and jolly laughter, was out of the question. Instead, Steve and I drove home to San Francisco; Jasmine Blue nestled all snug in her bed, while visions of tennis balls danced in her head.
The Pelican Inn
AMBIANCE
Quite possibly the quaintest dining destination in the entire Bay area — charm of the English coastal countryside, a stone’s throw from Muir Beach. SOUND LEVEL LIGHT LEVEL NOT TO MISS DISHES WHAT THE DIAMONDS MEAN OUR REVIEW POLICY E-mail: susan@yummyletter.com 
Two years later, she became one of the youngest students at the renowned Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, New York, and went on to intern at Sazerac in New Orleans. Back in New York, she was chef de partie under Christer Larsson at Aquavit, and then Pat Williams’s sous chef at Charlotte, but it was a call in 1994 from Loretta Keller of San Francisco’s Bizou that started her West Coast career. I experienced her budding talent unknowingly while working as food and wine editor for Looksmart.com — Bizou’s fresh, smart menu was a weekly must for my team (especially the addictive tempura green beans). After Bizou, Biesty did a stint at London’s River Café (with chefs Ruth Rodgers and Rose Gray); she came back to San Francisco to work for another world-class female mentor, Traci des Jardins at Jardiniere. She returned to Bizou as chef de cuisine for two years before taking on her first executive chef role at San Francisco’s well-loved Universal Cafe. She came full-California-circle to help original mentor Keller with the reinvention of Bizou into the critically acclaimed Coco500. Several months ago Biesty landed at Scala’s Bistro, where she recently debuted her still-evolving menu of ingredient-driven cuisine. While some of the standards like frito misto (literally, “mixed fried foods”) remain, Biesty’s influence is evident in dishes like velvety cauliflower puree with wild mushrooms; a modern take on classic bruschetta made with duck prosciutto, white pear and arugula; and house-made pastas, including a rustic pappardelle with tomato-braised pork sugo (sauce), Swiss chard and Parmigiano Reggiano. Tonight, Biesty will duel fellow female phenom Dominique Crenn in the “Battle of the Chefs” at Macy’s in Union Square (170 O’Farrell Street, San Francisco). The event is $10 and includes the competition, pre-event food samples and cocktails (6 p.m.). The bell sounds at 6:30 p.m. and space is limited. Restaurant: Scala’s Bistro, 432 Powell Street (on the Powell Street cable car line in Union Square), San Francisco, 415-395-8555 Food Style: Rustic Italian with modern touches. Upcoming Projects: Overhauling the menu at the Starlight Room, which will be receiving an extensive renovation later this year; demos at a number of charity events, including the May 7 “Out to Eat” for Outlet, benefiting gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender youth. Fun Facts: Biesty is an aspiring surfer. What is the last thing you cooked for yourself? What is your favorite food from your childhood? How would you describe working in your kitchen? What was your worst kitchen experience? Something in your ’fridge or freezer that would surprise people? What is the last restaurant you ate at? If you retired tomorrow, what dish would you be remembered for? What is your favorite offal? What is your favorite staff meal? What is your favorite thing at your favorite sushi bar? What is your favorite dish on your current menu? What is your favorite comfort dish at a restaurant other than your own? What is your favorite burger? What is your ultimate fantasy meal? – S. Reynolds
Restaurateur Tom Duffy, former owner of Myth, has teamed with chef Matthew Kerley (Zinnia, Slow Club, Myth, One Market) to create a menu built around the organic meats of Prather Ranch, which I consider the gold standard. Prather can trace the origins of every steer back to the 1970s; they were the first in the country to implement a certified humane slaughter facility, and they are a very small producer. The 5-ounce “Pickle burger” weighs in at $6 — a deal for meat of that extraordinary quality (there’s an 8-ounce version for big appetites). The beefy burger (no shrinkage here) is served on a soft brioche bun with the classics (lettuce, tomato, red onions, and, of course, pickles) and there is ketchup, mustard and mayo on the tables so you can dress it the way you wish. I put as little on it as possible and order the meat rare to medium rare (again, don’t mess with the quality by overcooking or overdressing).
Pickles only serves lunch right now (10 a.m. to 4 p.m.), but when they open for dinner April 1, the menu will include starters, salads, and four to five entrées priced around $14, and they will stay open until 3 a.m. Fridays and Saturdays (which should make the Clown Alley lovers happy). – S. Reynolds
Fab Five… Reasons to go to a Chain Restaurant By Susan Dyer Reynolds I’ve never understood why food critics feel they have to be food snobs. I grew up in the Valley of the Olive Garden (known by some as the Silicon Valley), and I have a special place in my heart for chain restaurants — there is something to be said for consistency and comfort. I doubt many professional food critics have waited in line for a corndog, battered and fried before your eyes at Hot Dog on a Stick, and that’s really too bad. How can you judge any food if you aren’t willing to try it all? One of my regular Northside San Francisco readers calls me “the people’s food critic” — she likes the fact that I gleefully admit occasional cravings for 7-Eleven burritos, and extol the virtues of those tuna salad sandwiches in the refrigerators of gas station convenience stores. If you don’t check out chains, you don’t know about the sweet, firm and meaty, off-the-boat fresh Alaskan king crab legs at the Fish Market. It’s available for just a few months each year (November through January), but if the only Alaskan king crab you’ve had is the spongy, still-frozen, saline-soaked stuff from the supermarket, you’re in for a real treat next fall. In the economy we’ve had lately, where 401(k)s are now 201(k)s, the prices at chains can be a little easier to swallow, too — that fresh Alaskan crab is around $25, including two side dishes and all the sourdough bread you can eat. Besides the very seasonal king crab at the Fish Market, here are some of my favorite reasons to go to a chain restaurant all year round: 5. Eggplant parmigiana My Sicilian mother made the best eggplant parmigiana in the world, and even she liked the Olive Garden classic version of lightly breaded eggplant fried in olive oil and topped with marinara sauce and melted mozzarella and Parmesan cheeses. ($13.50 with unlimited salad or soup and fresh-baked garlic bread sticks.) 4. Pin rice noodle soup P.F. Chang’s does a great job with dumplings in general, but I love this comforting soup — little pork dumplings, plump shrimp, green onions, and bean sprouts in a homey, spicy chicken broth. ($7.95 for a bowl big enough to serve two as an entrée, three to four as an appetizer.) 3. Broiled stuffed lobster You can find steamed Maine lobster in quite a few upscale eateries and boutique seafood spots, but broiled stuffed is hard to come by outside of New England. Even steamed lobster is seldom done well — it’s overcooked and tough or, when you crack it, water floods your baked potato. The Red Lobster does an excellent steamed version fresh from their tank, but I always pay a little extra to have mine broiled stuffed — split down the middle, slathered with butter, fluffy crab and seafood stuffing in the cavity, and broiled until the tail meat has a little char. (Around $30 with a salad, a side and those addictive cheddar biscuits.) 2. Chicken potpie Last week I voted Mimi’s number one in my Fab Five fried zucchini), and this week they take second prize for their positively fabulous chicken potpie — generous chunks of white meat chicken, creamy béchamel sauce and veggies topped with a buttery, flaky crust, piping hot out of the oven. (Big enough to serve two — $13 with a breadbasket that includes their deliciously dessert-worthy molasses carrot raisin bread.)
1. Orange chicken In my opinion, no one does orange chicken better than Panda Express does. Because of the constant hoards of hungry shoppers, it’s always fresh from the wok — tender chicken lightly battered and fried until golden brown then tossed in their signature sweet, mildly spicy chili glaze and topped with chopped green onion and sesame seeds. (Around $5 for one entrée with steamed rice, egg fried rice, or chow mein — additional items are $1.25. Can’t decide on your side? Me either, so I ask for half fried rice and half chow mein.)
– S. Reynolds
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