This may not make me any friends in San Francisco, but we’ve found eating out here a bit hit and miss. I think it’s great that the food scene is so vibrant and entrepreneurial, but it feels like too often that food takes the back seat over gimmicks, word of mouth and social media buzz (liquid nitrogen cooled ice-cream, anyone?).

If I’m honest, a lot of the places people rave about, we’ve just found a bit ‘meh’, and thus far, there have been very few places that have really blown us away. But Mission Chinese Food is one that we could eat at every week.

The guys who set it up used to go under the name Mission Street Food and (from what the internet tells me) were like high end food truckers, blending classical and modern culinary training with street foods from all over the world. Around a year ago, they decided to set up something a bit more permanent, and like a hermit crab set up in a shell of a former run down Chinese restaurant in The Mission, and Mission Street Food became Mission Chinese Food.

They describe their style as ‘Americanized Oriental Food’, and there’s definitely a nod towards Szechuan style, but whatever you call it, it’s frikkin’ tasty. I think we’ve munched our way through around half of the menu to date, and we’re planning on completing the set as soon as we can. On our last vist we had the Char Siu Pork Belly (again), which is almost like a take on bacon and eggs. The mildly spiced belly comes in super tender, tasty chunks with a nicely crispy skin, and is served with soft boiled eggs, noodle rolls and hoi sin sauce. Amazing. Really good.

The last time we went, the dumplings were sold out, so we got stuck in to a portion of the fish dumplings that are made to order by one of the owners,  Danny Bowien, in the window of the restaurant. The casing was a bit tough for my taste, but the filling was delicious, and the broth the dumplings came bobbing in had a healthy ginger kick to it.

We followed this with the Xi’an Lamb soup and the Mongolian hangar steak. The soup combined braised lamb cheeks, merguez sausage and ramen style noodles, swimming in a spicy, full flavored soup. Another hit. The steak was cooked medium rare with lots of onion, some bell pepper, a really tasty salty soy style sauce and a whole heap of chillies that were as hot as Hades. I got on the wrong side of one of them after a couple of bites, and it almost blew my head off, but not at the expense of the taste of the dish. One thing that is impressive about the food at Mission Chinese Food is that with all the dishes, even the hot ones, the spicing is done with a deft hand. Nothing overpowers the key ingredients. You can really taste the meat, which is a pretty neat trick to pull off when you’re dealing with full on flavours.

I’m not going to deny it’s a bit of a hipster haven, and I guess the idea of a modern Chinese restaurant setting up in the guys of an old-school Chinese is a bit of a gimmick, but f**k it. It works for me.

(Apologies for the quality of the pics. It’s a bit dark and very orange in there).

Since arriving in San Fran, we’ve heard quite a few people say that In-N-Out burger are the cream of the crop when it comes fast food. In-N-Out are the originators of the ‘drive-thru’ phenomenon, having opened the first one ever in 1948, and as a result most of their outlets tend to be in not very handy locations to those without cars like us. So when we passed one on the way home from Tahoe last weekend, we seized the day.

When we got in there, the first thing that struck us was the size of the menu. They only really have 6 things on offer. Three kinds of burgers, fries, shakes and soft drinks. That’s it. It’s pretty refreshing to have such a limited choice, and must have been a pretty bold decision for a country like the US where people are used to having things their way.

In-N-Out are also obviously pretty serious about the quality of their ingredients. I’m sure a fair amount of it is bluster, ‘hand leafed lettuce’ anyone? But they do seem to take pride and care in the selection and procurement of their meat, cheese and veg, claims that I’m sure a lot of the other big burger chains couldn’t back up.

I opted for the Double-Double. Two beef patties, two slices of cheese, lettuce, tomato and onion. Now, I’m not going to say it was a Meatwagon-esque, life changing moment, but they were pretty damn good. The burgers themselves tasted fresh, meaty, well seasoned, and weren’t greasy. The bun was pretty good too, and the veg nice, crispy and clean tasting.

We also had a tasty vanilla shake, for me a good yardstick for any diner style place. The only thing that was disappointing were the fries. I can’t really put my finger on what was wrong with them, but they just seemed a bit dry and tasteless. Meh.

But the fries weren’t enough to put us off. Next time we hire a car, we’ll be going In-N-Out again.

As people who read this blog will know, I’m not a huge fan of overly fussy food. 9 times out of 10 I’d rather eat a really well cooked roast chicken say, than some complex Heston-esque creation swimming in a sea of foam. There’s a certain pomposity that comes with this kind of food and the people, or so called ‘foodies’, who wax lyrical about it. But every once in a while it does one a bit of good to see how the other half live, especially if someone else is paying. In this case, my parents.

About half an hour’s drive from the villa my folks rented there’s a small village called Cruis. It’s a pretty unassuming little place, in many ways a typical French village, but we’d been told that the restaurant at the hotel in town was very good. Like the village, the Auberge De L’Abbaye didn’t look that special, plastic chairs and vinyl checked table cloths out on the veranda, so we were kind of unprepared for how good the food was.

The menu was succinct, but not limiting. Bursting with local meat, veg and seafood from slightly further afield, I could have happily eaten all of the dishes on the menu. I started with some local asparagus which was served with a qualis egg and kind of morel mushroom velouté sauce. The asparagus was firm, tender and delicious, the quails egg a nice touch, but the crowning glory was the sauce. Totally packed with the morel flavour, and with a few mushrooms scattered around the plate, it was deliciously rich. Many a mushroom soup could learn a lesson or two from that sauce.

To follow the asparagus I had ‘rabbit four ways’, which as you can see from the photo I got a bit excited about and ate half of before I remembered to take a photo. The four ways were a ‘lasagne’ of loin sandwiched between pieces of tomato , a beautifully succulent ballotine, rabbit confit served on a crispy disc of polenta, and a herb custed saddle. The dish was served with a super tasty Madeira sauce, some mange tout and pureed pumpkin.  Each element of the dish was delicious, and perfectly cooked, even the saddle which could have easily dried out. I could eat it all again now.

To end with I had the cheese plate, which featured some of the regions best cheeses, including the famous Banon goat’s cheese. It was good, but to be honest I wish I’d gone for what my parents had for dessert which was ‘La frambois dans tous ses etets’. Basically the raspberry equivalent of my rabbit dish, it comprised of lots of different mini raspberry based sweets including a crumble, ice cream and a tart. I tried a couple of the bits and they were amazing.

The food at the Auberge was definitely not simple, but neither was it fine dining. I guess it was more along the lines of classic French haute cuisine, and there wasn’t a trace of pomposity in sight. It was all very relaxed, the service was charming, and I wish I was there sitting on that terrace right now. If you’re in the area, I can highly recommend you pay Auberge De L’Abbaye a visit.

Just about recovered from my trip down under, so lets talk crabs, specifically Singaporean style critters.

Harry’s Singapore Chilli Crab is a bit of a Sydney institution that the Missus and her family have been going to for years, and they very kindly introduced me to whilst we were over there.

It’s an unassuming place above a slightly grotty looking pub in the Surrey Hills area of the city, but that doesn’t seem to stop people coming in their droves. Opened in 1982 by the eponymous Harry (Lau), the place doesn’t feel like it’s changed much since, and from what understand the menu hasn’t either. And whilst there is plenty on offer to eat, it all feels like a bit of a formality, as the main event is definitely the chilli crab that gives the restaurant it’s name.

After ordering, you are invited to go up and chose your victims from a selection of healthy looking Queensland mud crabs at the front of the restaurant. They are big, muscular beasts, and it almost felt a bit daunting plucking them out of their bucket to await their fate. But we soldiered and kept the wolf from the door by having a couple of portions of salt and pepper squid whilst we waited for the stars of the show. The squid was super fresh, tasty, not at all chewy and served with a poky chilli soy sauce. A fitting start for what was to come.

Then the crabs arrived. Ay carrumba. Already partially dismembered and laid out on large platters, they came smothered in a deep red rust coloured chilli sauce, and served with Chinese greens, rice and delicious roti bread. Like the squid, the crab was very fresh. The meat sweet and clean tasting, and surprisingly not overpowered by the sauce. And what a sauce. Amazing. It had this really deep and intense flavour, and was flecked with what was either crab meat or egg. We quizzed our waiter on the ingredients, but he would only give us the obvious onion, garlic, ginger and chili. The rest, he told us, was a secret. I can’t blame him, the stuff is like liquid gold.

The charismatic Harry himself made an appearance during the meal to see if we were enjoying his signature dish, as did several large bowls of water to rinse ourselves down with. Both the bowls and complimentary aprons are testament to the fact that this is not refined and polite dining, and that was one of the great things about the meal. It was a very communal experience. You really have to get in there and get dirty, and was all the more enjoyable for it.

Had we been stranded in Sydney due to Eyjafjallajokull’s eruptions, I would certainly made a strong case for a return visit to Harry’s, but I guess I’ll just have to wait until the next time we’re in the area.

There’s an old adage about doing one thing well as opposed to doing a few things averagely, which would have been very apt for this post, but despite trawling the whole interwebs I can’t find it. Oh well.

So last night our fiends Charlotte and Mark introduced to us this restaurant called Relais de Venise L’Entrecôte. It seems it’s a bit of an institution, but somehow never made it onto my radar. It’s on Marylebone Lane, right opposite the awesome Golden Hind fish and chip shop (which deserves a post all of its own – all in good time), and is a great example of the benefits of  the ‘do one thing well’ mantra.

At L’Entrecôte there’s basically no menu. You sit down (after a lengthy queue if you arrive at peak times) and get served a lettuce and walnut salad with a lovely mustardy vinaigrette, followed by steak frites. The steak comes served thinly sliced, covered in the restaurants own special sauce, the recipe of which is closely guarded. And that’s it. Kind of.

The story of the sauce, and the restaurant itself is quite an interesting one. In 1959, a guy called Paul Gineste de Saurs bought an old Italian restaurant in the 17th arrondissement of Paris. He decided that he was going to serve a very simple menu, which remains unchanged to this day, and instead of serving his steaks with the traditional herb butter, he created his own sauce. Everyone went mad for the sauce, and the restaurant was a hit. There are rumours of a family fallout between Monsieur de Saur’s kids, but one of his daughters now runs the restaurant, and is responsible for opening other locations in London, New York, Barcelona and bizarrely Bahrain. She is also the guardian of the secret sauce recipe. The waitress told us that it is still made in France and shipped over as a paste, where it is finished in house with butter, parsley and shallots.

The venue is a bit Disney does bistro, but the quality of the food more than made up for it. The salad was very simple but tasty, and the steak tender, flavoursome and cooked to perfection, the frites excellent, and that sauce. WOW. It tastes a bit like a pesto remixed with extra Parmesan, butter anchovy and no pine nuts. You can understand why those Parisians went so crazy for it all those years ago.

The portions aren’t huge, but they do come round with seconds, which is a nice touch. The house wine was also pretty decent, and there is a menu for cheese and dessert, both of which were also good. But to be honest, what you’re really here for is the steak and sauce, and I for one will be going back for more soon.

Apologies for the quality of the photos. I only had my iPhone on me.

It’s no understatement to say that that I’m a BIG fan of pizza.There’s something genius in it’s simplicity. Bread. Good. Tomato sauce. Good. Cheese. Good. Some kind of meaty topping. Goooooood. And when I’m talking about the kind of pizza that I love, I’m talking about the traditional Italian kind, not the whole farmyard on a base that you get delivered at 3am after a session on the wife beater.

I’ve been lucky enough to work around Soho, central London, for most of my career, and that also happens to be the location of what must be one of the best pizza joints in the UK. Situated in a little side road between Berwick and Wardour Streets, Malletti has been knocking out  amazing pizza to a small army of adoring and loyal fans for at least as long as I’ve working in the area. The queue that snakes out of the door most lunchtimes is testament to this.

The first time I tried what Malletti has to offer was when I was working on a pitch. My then boss, who was to be frank an arse, proved that he could get something right by heading out and bringing back a load of Malletti’s pizza for his hard working troops. I can remember sinking my teeth into my first slice of spicy salami (which is still my favourite) and being blown away. The thin almost pastry like base, deep tomato flavour from the sauce, and just the right amount of mozzarella, piquant salami and chilli. It’s making me hungry just thinking about it.

It’s only a small shop, but is dominated by the glass counter on the right that displays the wide range of tasty stuff on offer. As well as traditional pizza, they do focaccias, panni style sandwiches, really great pasta specials each day (the wild boar ragu is insane)  and some sweet stuff too. There’s a small bar on the left where you can stand up and eat, but it’s a bit tight in there so most people take away. The only trouble you’re really going to have at Malletti’s is working out what to have, although you will get an earful if you’re on your mobile when you try and order. They don’t like that, and fair play to them. There’s a sign on the way in to warn you.

Malletti is a great example of somewhere that’s perennially popular because it’s always been good at what it does, and not because it’s tried to move with the times. It’s staffed by the same people who have always been behind the counter, and you get the impression that it’s a family business.

Malletti doesn’t have a website, in fact there’s surprisingly little written about it on-line full stop, but if you’re interested in getting a slice of the good life (sorry) you can find them at 26 Noel Street, London, W1F 8GT.