Paneer Power

Himalayan Tandoori and Curry House

I'm about the least political person on the planet. I head for the hills when discussion starts to veer toward candidates, "anti" anything or involves sweaty, shouting people. Not that I don't have the utmost admiration for the advocates among us. I'm just more of an eater than a fighter.

So while Richard Gere, Ani DiFranco, Bono and countless others among you fight the good fight, BiteClub chooses a quieter, more delicious way to make a stand. Like, how about I spend a thoughtful afternoon eating daal, saag paneer, momo, tikka masala and naan at Himalayan Tandoori and Curry House? It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make over and over (and over) again for the betterment of humanity...and in support of the cuisine of our friends from Tibet.

Want to join my crusade? Here's the deal: Hidden in a Sebastopol strip mall, the year-old restaurant has flown way below the radar of most foodies. Relying mostly on word-of-mouth advertising, Tibetan owner Rajehh Moktan promptly won over local vegans with his brown rice, veggie tandoori, daal bhat (lentil soup) and meatless curries. No small feat in Sebastopol. But that's only a small part of the equation.

Omnivores can sink their teeth into lamb or seafood tandoori; a rich, creamy chicken tikka masala (which is naked without a dab of mango chutney) or the ultra-rich saag paneer curry with homemade cubes of cheese, fresh spinach, onions, spices and tomato sauce. To sop up every last dribble of sauce--and believe me, you'll want to--head straight for the garlic cilantro naan bread. Pace yourself as you dive into the half-moons with crisp edges and a soft middle studded with butter, herbs and garlic.

Manning the kitchen is Rajehh's cousin (also from Tibet) who cut his teeth at Sonoma's Taste of Himalaya and Rohnert Park's Shangri-La after having owned his own restaurant back home. Having never trekked through the Himalayas, the food's authenticity is better left to experts. I have however, watched Anthony Bourdain choke down yak meat in Nepal, and will venture to guess that Rajehh's take is probably more suited to American tastes. Note: If you're planning to be a hero, be warned that "spicy" can mean some serious heat. Mild or medium is a safe bet, though Raj says they strive to make chicken taste like, well, chicken no matter how hot you want it.

If you're keeping to mostly Tibetan-influenced dishes, steer toward the meat (or veggie) momo--filled dumplings that have much in common with potstickers. The restaurant serves them up with a tomato and cumin sauce that packs a punch. Fill up on daal bhat curry with rice and vegetables and mixed pickle chutney.

The rest of the menu borrows heavily from the cuisine of Nepal's Indian neighbors--not too surprising for a nation that survives mainly on lentil soup, rice, pickles and yak, uh, products (including butter and cheese). In Tibet, sustenance beats out complicated preparations and exotic spices. In India, not so much. Hindi influences show in kabobs, curries, masalas and vindaloos, as well as the desserts of gulab jamun (sweet, fried dough balls) and Kulfi (a sort of Indian ice cream).

Call it food inclusionism and make your own stand. Power to the Paneer.

Himalayan Tandoori and Curry House, 969 Gravenstein Hwy So, Sebastopol, 707.824.1800. Open for lunch from 11am to 2:30pm Monday through Saturday, Dinner from 5pm to 9pm Monday through Saturday. Closed on Sunday.

Big Boy's Buns and Burgers

Hospital food, I'm here to tell you, is every bit as awful as you've heard. Having just spent four days and nights in the pediatric ward, BiteClub would have traded a bed pan, four grape drinks, a slightly used IV bag and a several luxurious nights on the floor for a real hamburger. The distance between jubilant relief and ungrateful revulsion is only a hospital meal away.

Having recently been sprung (everyone is fine, thank you), it became mission critical to readjust my cholesterol and fat levels to their previous levels. Stat. Enter Big Boy's Buns and Burgers.

Around since 1963, it's got a local following that borders on rabid. Larkfield locals frequently line up at the walk-up windows, waiting patiently for their half-pound Big Boys and beer-battered onion rings for as long as it takes.

Worth the wait? Let me lay out the pros and cons. On the plus side are fresh patties, crisp fixins (tomatoes, lettuce and pickles), J-Lo sized buns and, of course, the special sauce. Minuses: An almost mess-free burger in need of a juice transfusion and a poor burger to bun ratio--too much of a good thing (in this case the bun) isn't always a good thing. Other minor annoyances included a lack of toast on the undersize of aforementioned bun and a serious lack of grilly goodness. Hey, those little crackly, crunchy bits off the spatula are what I'm here for.

The thick-cut fries and onion rings at Buns and Burgers are highly respectable companions, served up with plenty of salt. If you're going all out, I recommend indulging in a small order of each, or the chili-cheese fries if you really want to get that old heart beating triple time. Also on the menu is the bacon, ham and cheese burger, bbq cheese burger with onion rings, patty melt with swiss and grilled onions, fish and chips, chili cheese dogs, BLT sandwiches and daily specials (today's was pastrami).

Don't miss handmade ice cream shakes so thick you'll get a headache from sucking the straw. Just for good measure, take home a quart of co-owner George Fiori's minestrone soup, passed down from a special family recipe for generations. People swear by the stuff.

Despite the imperfections, its a hard act to follow, especially for the newcomers at Thumbs-Up Burger down the road in Windsor. Prior to our health fiasco, BiteClub and family stopped in for dinner, along with about half of Windsor. Already a popular spot on weekend nights, the deli-style restaurant serves up a decent burger in a hurry though it lacks serious inspiration. Paper plates and a lack of napkins make for a messy meal. Clearly they're still in start-up mode, and we'll give them a lilting thumbs-up for effort.

Overall, I've still got a soft spot for the now-defunct Chippery's Jesse James burger as the ßmeasure against which all burgers are, uh, measured in my all-beef patty world. But who can complain, really, after a week of Jell-O and beef broth?

Big Boy's Buns and Burgers, 406 Larkfield Shopping Center, Santa Rosa, (707) 546-6835, open daily from 7am to 7pm, Friday and Saturday until 8pm.

Thumbs Up Burger and Deli, 8465 Old Redwood Highway, Suite 300, Windsor, 707.837.7443. Open Monday through Sat., 6:30am to 9:30pm; Sunday 6:30am to 8:30pm.

PS. BiteClub wants to give a special shout-out to the awesome ER and pediatric staff of Santa Rosa Memorial Hospital, including Rick, Gloria, Penny and all the super cool folks to made our stay comfortable--including bringing me the food that I've been so ungrateful for. Regardless, Miss Lucy and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts. If you ever find yourself stuck in the hospital, may I recommend take-out from Sushi To Dai and Sea Thai Bistro which my man McNibs mercifully brought me during my incarceration. Thanks McNibs!

Top 100 restaurants?

The Bauer has spoken. Each year, the San Francisco Chronicle food critic bestows his blessings on a lucky 100 restaurants (see who they are) as "the best" of the year. In 2008 only four made the grade in Sonoma County. On the list: Rosso, Cyrus, Cafe La Haye and the Farmhouse Inn. That's it.

Really? Come on now. Sure, Rosso and Cyrus are undeniably stellar restaurants well worth the kudos. Cyrus has achieved transcendency in both service and putting it on par with any top restaurants in the country. The humbler Rosso has impressed locals with its consistency, great woodfired pizzas, commitment to organic/sustainable ingredients and wine program--all at a reasonable price.

And okay, I can't begrudge the Farmhouse Inn with its enviable wine program and consistently respectable food, but consistency can sometimes be a bit dull. What's got me scratching my head, however, was my intense disappointment with a seriously lackluster recent meal at Cafe La Haye. Is it really better than The General's Daughter? Better than Syrah? Better than Santi? Better than Cafe Saint Rose? Better than Willi's or Stark's Steakhouse?

But the choices are a little less surprising when you consider that only 19 are new to the list--less than one-fifth. The remaining 81 have been on the Top 100 previously, many for multiple years--some clearly for too many years. Is nostalgia playing too big a part in these decisions?

Because while I respect and admire Mr. Bauer, there isn't a decent restauranteur, especially previous winners, who don't recognize him in an instant. They know who all the critics are, no matter how anonymous they try to be, making me wonder how truly objective any of us who eat and drink for a living can truly be. Or how accurate our experiences. It's nearly impossible not to get attached (and even make excuses for) to a restaurant or a chef you've had especially fond experiences with. And dismiss someone who burns you even once. That's the painful truth.

Which isn't to say that Bauer doesn't get it right a lot of the time. It's a fascinating read to see who got bumped in 2008. Odyssey in Windsor got the boot (though it seemed to be a close call, and I've too heard of some inconsistency), as did Dry Creek Kitchen (which got a scathing diss). It's also rather shocking, considering the fact that they probably knew (or should have known) that Bauer was in the hosue.

It's a tough call, I can attest, to try and narrow to a brief list the best of the Bay Area. I'd struggle to come up with 100 Best Restaurants just in Wine Country. How do you compare the best spot for burritos and chiles rellenos with a three-star foie gras and microgreens spot? Maybe its worth a try...

So tell me. Who would you nominate for a Wine Country's Top 100 Restaurants list?

Tres Leches

In a fit of mommy-guilt, I once spent twelve hours constructing an edible tableaux of the pyramids at Giza for my son's fifth birthday--layer upon layer of homemade yellow cake and chocolate butter cream. It was a masterpiece, complete with brown sugar sand, plastic palm trees and camels. Even better, it tasted divine.

He, of course, hated it.

Okay, that's not really fair. He actually remembers it rather fondly. But at the time, we both knew he would have been much happier digging into a store-bought cake with fluorescent green frosting an a plastic Mutant Turtle on top.

I had felt the need to save his little untrained palate from certain disappointment. I had failed.

Such is the fate of parenthood. Homemade cakes give way to semi-homemade cakes, which give way to store-bought monstrosities so laden with shortening and sugar that the actual cake seems an afterthought. Maybe it's just hiding in shame.

But there is salvation to be found, and it's name is tres leches. Well-known to the fiesta-set, this creamy, dreamy, milk-laden cake is a homemade(ish) antidote to industrialized desserts.

The recipe goes like this--a pan of sponge cake gets jabbed and poked within an inch of its life, then doused with a mixture of evaporated and condensed milk, along with heavy cream (three milks=tres leches). Let soak, then cloak the whole thing in a n inch of whipped cream. Purists prefer their cake unadorned, though I think adding a layer of fruit makes for a better party.

The cakes ends up a bit like a thoroughly soused rum cake, minus the rum: Sweet, spongy and insanely moist--sometimes almost wet. The whipped cream frosting is rich, but goes down a lot better than heavy buttercream or (shudder) shortening-based frosting. !Ole!

No one's quite sure where this confectionery marvel got its start, although popular belief places its origins in Central America. More specifically, it's thought to have come from a recipe on the side of a sweetened or condensed milk can somewhere in Nicaragua--not such a wild theory due in part to the prevalence of canned milk in hot climates (where the fresh stuff doesn't last long).

The recipe remains popular in Latin American countries and, like flan and dulce de leche, has kindly infiltrated US food culture. You'll find it everywhere from local Mexican bakeries to the dessert menus of upscale restaurants (Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen in St. Helena frequently has it on the menu.)

Don't expect to walk up and get a slice, however. Cakes usually need to be ordered in advance from local Mexican bakeries (as BiteClub found out the hard way), but high-traffic spots like Lola's Market and (BiteClub's fave) Pasteles Fiesta usually have a selection on hand for walk-ins. Pasteles also has slices available with or without fruit for dabblers and lunch-breakers.

And yes, you can even get them decorated with green frosting, pink flowers and nifty toys. Making everyone happy.

If you go: Pasteles Fiesta offers a variety of authentic Mexican cakes, along with tasty individual-sized flans. A small tres leches cake will set you back about $20; the mini flans are just $2. 443 Dutton Ave, #1, Dutton Plaza, Santa Rosa, 707.568.7051.

If you want to make Tres Leches cake yourself (you ambitious cook, you) can check out the recipe that got me all inspired in the first place, courtesy of Alton Brown and the Food

Trisha's Lumpia House

Lunch started like a bad Abbot and Costello skit.

"Let's get halo halo," my friend said.
"Yeah, uh, hi there." Sometimes I mumble. Maybe she didn't hear my earlier salutations.
"No, halo-halo," she said.
"Hellooooooooo," I say again, thinking, sheesh Mel, get a hearing aid.
"No, they have halo-halo!"
"Uh, okay."
"It's like a milkshake. You'll like it," she laughs.

Mmmmm. Milkshake. BiteClub enjoys milkshakes.

On cue, Karen, our bubbly cruise director of Filipino cuisine/waitress sashays over. She has a giant smile, a wiggly, giggly way about her, and describes everything on the menu at Trisha's Lumpia House as "Really Good!" But aside from the fact that halo halo is really good, I'm not really following too much else she's telling me. She does seem a little dubious about us actually drinking the stuff.

"Halo halo!" arrives. Karen stands and watches Meloni and I look at the milkshake imposter like the cautious Midwestern girls we actually are."You like?" I'm pretty sure she's making fun of us.

Hmmm. Okay. Yes, it does look kind of like a milkshake. Except with a whole lot of ice on top and floaties swimming around at the foot of the glass. What else can we do but dive in and pull out the slimy treasure? Yum. Sweet ice cream, crunchy ice, mangoes, coconut and...crunch...uh, is that a garbanzo bean?

"You like it?" Karen's smiling and giggling again as Mel and I pick through the Filipino milkshake like archaeologists. We pull out and identify the shaved ice, diced mangos, strings of coconut meat, sweet red beans, garbanzos, ice cream and sweet gelatinous blobs of kaong (also called sugar palm fruit). Yes, we do like it. Minus the beans. Extra kaong. Karen is happy.

Going Pinoy is the name of the game at Trisha's Lumpia House, Sonoma County's first (as far as anyone we talked to knows) Filipino restaurant. Hidden in Petaluma's G&G Shopping Center, Karen tells us that much of the clientele are curious, um, obviously non-Filipino eaters like us and she's always happy to walk folks through the menu. She locks us onto Pork Adobo, lumpia (think fried spring rolls), pancit noodles (think Pad Thai or chowmein) and Sitaw at Kalabasa (long beans and squash in coconut milk).

It doesn't take long for the newly initiated to figure out who's contributed to the mash-up of flavors from these steamy Pacific Islands: China, Indonesia and Spain--mostly. So, like any good food adventurer, you'll want to dive right in. Start off with lumpia, ($3.25) crispy egg rolls similar to those you'd find at any Chinese restaurant, served with sweet chili dipping sauce. Pork adobo ($8.95) is a must-have dish, marinated in soy sauce, garlic and vinegar. It's the unofficial national dish of the Philippines and one of the first things kids learn to cool (kind of like your five year old making peanut butter and jelly).

Keep going with House Pancit,($.7.95) rice sticks and bean threads (clear, thin noodles) tossed with veggies and meat with a squeeze of lime. The restaurant also offers tradition Filipino plates of Bistek (Filipino beef steak), Afritada (a tomato-based pork and vegetable dish), oxtail in peanut sauce, and soup-based dishes like Nilaga, Sinigang Baboy and Hipon. Party trays of most dishes, as well as menudo and pork belly are also available. Oh, and yes, there is a Trisha. She just didn't happen to be there when we visited.

The tiny restaurant, with only a few tables and the obviously casual staff can be a bit intimidating at first, but when Karen's around, the place warms up quickly, with everyone chatting between tables. Check out what your neighbors are eating and ask lots of questions. Just don't fill up, because it's worth saving room for dessert. Karen's proud of the biko she frequently makes (she only rarely has kitchen duties), a sweet sticky rice in coconut syrup, along with flan and, of course, a nice big glass of halo-halo. With beans or without.

Trisha's Lumpia House, 701 Sonoma Mountain Parkway next to G&G Market, Petaluma,707.778.3845. Open for dine in or take out daily from 11am to 8:30pm.

Produce-centric eating in Napa: Ubuntu

Jeremy Fox spends a lot of time thinking about vegetables.

As chef of Napa’s quirky new veg-spot, Ubuntu, he’s a master of meat-free dining. But ask this stoic 31-year-old what he truly craves after a long shift serving cauliflower, arugula and rabe and the answer is surprisingly un-Zen.

“Steak,” says Fox. Spoken like a true carnivore. And somehow reassuring to folks more accustomed to bacon than brewer’s yeast on their plates.

Joining the Napa dining scene in late August, Ubuntu is hard to categorize. Housed in a reclaimed 19th century building, it’s a lofty space that brings together an open-kitchen and bar, communal dining and a yoga studio. Restaurant owner and yoga fanatic Sandy Lawrence’s choice of Fox--a former chef de cuisine of Manresa (a top-ranked Bay Area restaurant)--has kept foodies twittering anxiously since its opening.

But don’t please don’t use the v-word to describe Ubuntu. Both Fox and Lawrence (who admits to being an occasional carnivore) shudder at the restaurant being called “vegetarian,” citing the gourmet ghetto that most tofu and sprout eateries fall into. Leaving lentil salads to others, Lawrence leverages Fox’s classical cooking techniques-- like drying potato skins, adding highly flavored broths or hickory smoking Brussels sprouts, to intensify and concentrate flavors.

Winter’s signature dish is a cast-iron pot of roasted, pureed and raw cauliflower bubbling with exotic spices. Also on the menu are fried sunchokes and tomato relish; Brussels sprouts with celery root and cider vinegar gastrique; a perfectly poached egg atop pureed potatoes or a simple plate of baby radishes with fresh butter and sea salt. Fox’s wife, Deanie (also a Manresa alum), handles the desserts, with best bets being a luxurious layered cheesecake in a jar. Menus change up frequently, as produce comes in from the restaurant’s own organic gardens—so don’t expect today’s sprouts to be available a month from now.

And yes, be assured that Fox doesn’t skimp on the dairy (there’s no shortage of butter, cheese and cream. Though it’s not as prevalent as you might expect from a guy who’s worked with some seriously top toques. There are plenty of purely vegan bites that let the natural garden flavors shine through.

You have to wonder, however, if it isn’t a temptation once in a while to resort to chefs’ usual bag of tricks: Demiglace or, sheesh, even some chicken stock to goose up the flavors. Fox shrugs it off. Not really. The guy’s worked with uber-perfectionist Brit chef Gordon Ramsey, after all. He can handle the challenge.

So, is the food actually edible? Eminently. Critics recently squelched any lingering snickers, comparing Fox’s dishes to those of the nearby French Laundry and gushing over his “pristine” techniques. The restaurant’s impact has even been compared to the opening of Greens (a Bay Area vegetarian institution) in 1979. High praise for a restaurant devoted to the humble cauliflower and Brussels sprout.

Just don't call it vegetarian.

Del Secco Gelato

With 40 flavors on the menu, Del Secco's gelateria's has the scoop on Sonoma County's sweet tooth. The recently opened Rohnert Park shop features exotic sorbet and gelato (kind of like ice cream, but creamier) flavors including blood orange, cantaloupe, gingerbread, 50-50(think Creamsicle) and snowflake--a mixture of white chocolate and coconut.

The gelato's not made onsite, but by the uber-popular, flavor-savvy Gelateria Naia folks from the East Bay. Hungry yet? Grab a spoon.

Del Secco's, 6285 Commerce Blvd., Suite 308, Rohnert Park, 585.1100, open daily.