Nish N.'s Profile

What a terrific -- and much needed -- addition to the Lower Haight. As the name states, it's an enoteca experience, which as far as I can garner, is the Italian version of a French bistro, that is a casual eating and drinking place.

The first thing you see when you enter is the main bar; there are about 10 seats total but definitely a great spot to start your evening. Actually, I take that back, you probably will find Boris (one of the owners) greeting and chatting away. He's a good guy, and treats you like an instant regular the moment you step in.

Anyhow, order a glass of wine (their list is refreshingly all Italian), or a wine-based cocktail from Camber Lay (she of Epic and Range fame). Talk it up with the other patrons: the first time I was there the guy next to me let me try his glass and then when my party sat down we ended up ordering a bottle of the stuff.

There's a back room, which is a quieter but we wanted to be near the action so asked for a table up front. Now ordering at Uva is process of discovery. The menu is broken up into carne, formaggi, verdure, pizza, bruschette... I'd say order a couple of dishes from each section, mix and match, or ask your server for suggestions based against what you're drinking.

Just ordering some salume and cheese, sitting at the bar, might even be enough for some, and I can see a more industrious diner stopping in for a pre-snack before venturing off to another restaurant. That said, the  prosciutto di parma and asparagus pizza is sizable enough for a small meal (but share, please), and immensely satisfying. If you hunger for more, no one's stopping you from ordering a panini or piadine!

End your meal with some house-made gelato, and for a brief moment you'll realize that everything is alright in the world.

Can Doug Washington & Company do no wrong? Ok, so I'm a little biased, being a fan of Doug's first spot Town Hall and a lunch regular at Salt House. I went to the opening of Anchor & Hope with high expectations, and, now that I've been a few times for lunch, it's nice to be able to report that those expectations were more than met.

The restaurant occupies a quiet warehouse space on Minna Street, very open and airy by design, so you never feel cramped. The large fish art work - painted right on the wall above the bar - is done by Doug's wife, and it manages to bring the room together quite nicely. If you don't want a table, the long zinc dining counter is ideal for an even more casual vibe.

Terrific service all around, even during those early first few weeks, just a good sign of Anchor & Hope getting that a meal is about so much more than a meal.

But on that note, a little about the food: Their chowder is thick and tasty with little neck clams, definitely a great way to start warm things up. Oysters are a strong point (they have almost 20 different types), and I can see just having a dozen with a glass of wine, calling it time well spent. While the menu changes in terms of entrees, they are smart to keep their Lobster Roll on the menu. Anyone from New England will appreciate the authenticity brought to this simple yet extravagant sandwich.

A sexy and alluring space. Tucked away in Mint Plaza. French dudes. Euro babes. Attitude. Gorgeous reds and whites. Yeah, yeah, Chez Papa Resto's got all that.

But for me, a French restaurant lives and dies by its steak frites. CPR's is a grilled Painted Farm Hills New York cut, served with a tears-of-joy inducing Bearnaise sauce and crispy thin fries, perfect for sopping up any remaining juices.

It's not fancy, is a bit extravagant, and is certainly enough reason to forgive the French for letting Gerard Depardieu happen.

They serve a mean sirloin hamburger at lunch, too, and have a weekend brunch as well. These are good options, I'm sure, but do yourself a favor and treat yourself (or someone else) to how a proper steak should be prepared and go for supper sometime.

We found ourselves in the concrete jungle that is known to some locals as the Fisherman's Wharf. Surrounded by all manner of creature -- some with Alcatraz Swimming Team sweatshirts, others with fanny packs -- we felt the blazing sun glaring down on our backs. Seeking any sort of shelter, we found ourselves drawn to a somewhat foreboding cafe located of all places within a rainforest.

We entered cautiously, pushing our way through the masses and the madness (there was an hour wait for a table at 5pm), towards the bar. A grizzled chap greeted us, ready to take our order." Give us something tropical," we demanded, somewhat hopefully, "and ideally with an umbrella and lots of fruit." He just smiled and gave us, not a vitamite sandwich (wrong continent, apparently), but rather two preposterously frosty beverages, ice cold and as strong as serpent's blood (don't ask me how I know that).

We gulped down the liquid courage, just to maintain our sanity, as elephants trumpeted, lions roared, and the wild din of the wilderness overwhelmed us. Making our way around the perimeter, we barely avoided an attack from some gorillas in the mist, and had to detour around strange pygmies that bared a striking resemblance to human children. The horror! The horror!

We somehow found a way out, for I wouldn't be here telling you this tale otherwise. But it was not before we came across a storefront, stocked with a variety of native trinkets and a collection of shrunken, stuffed (with human intestines?) versions of the animals that inhabit this hellish heart of darkness.

Mark my words, friend, I daresay I will not be returning to this land, unless it is for their rather excellent Amazon Fajitas or Mojo Bones spareribs. Or mayhap their sparking Volcanoan dessert!

Mission Impossible? Thanks to the ISS, I'd like to amend that to Nission Possible.

When I've doing some surveillance work on Yelp Elite members that are of questionable useful, funny and coolness, I tend to rely on the the ISS for most of my wiretapping, GPS tracking, and poison neutralizer needs.

While I haven't run into any spies there (well, I guess how would I know, they were probably in disguise), I have a hunch that those in the espionage industry -- let alone CSI groupies -- frequent this establishment. If anything, they have a pretty nifty surprise shock lighter, useful when trying to convince associates to give up smoking. Those cigarettes will kill ya!

If you're reading this, remember, you didn't see me.

You know when you really want to like something, like the next M. Night Shyamalan movie, but you end up being disappointed despite making as many exceptions as possible? Yeah, well that was Conduit for me a few Saturdays ago.

I had been keeping up on what people were saying about the place, both on and off Yelp, so thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. The space, as has been pointed out, is definitely captivating: it's conceptual without seeming to try too hard, and I appreciate that.

While waiting for the rest of my party to arrive, I hung out at the bar, and was taken care of with a classic Negroni, one of my favorite cocktails before, during and after any meal. Nicely done, and both my bartender and the hostess who greeted and eventually sat us down were highlights of the night.

So when we were taken to our table, I was fully ready to expect an amazing experience. Our first waiter was a bit clueless and seemed to forget about us enough that we were lucky to have another waiter who did check on us, and offered up some nice wine selections and knowledge of the menu.

We decided to try a few different items and share them, starting with the asparagus and the beet appetizers. Sadly, all in our group felt the former was only ok and even confusing (what was that masked ricotta side?), while the latter was relatively tasteless. Still the wine gave us hope, and we continued on.

The gnocchi from the pasta section was admittedly quite tasty, garlicky and with nice sizes of Dungeness crab. However, it didn't help make up for the NY Steak we ordered. At $30, I was hoping for a juicy piece of meat, cooked to our standards. What we received was an underwhelming (although decent-sized) steak, overcooked and managing to lack any real sort of flavor. Let's put it this way, one of the people in our group was so non-plussed, we ended up getting the bill and skipping dessert.

Could this have been an off night? Perhaps, and I'd like to think it so. But San Francisco can always use more ambitious and creative restaurants, and that's worth something. So here's to hoping Conduit do somehow fix those defective and rusty pipes, figuratively and culinarily  speaking.

I'm a sucker for the Jack Spade lifestyle, own a few ties, shirts, trinkets and of course bags from his collection. If you haven't been to their flagship store (http://www.yelp.com/bi...) in SoHo, NY, please get on over. Besides, I don't think I'd look so good in Kate's shoes and dresses, anyway. But I digress.

So I have this great travel bag from Jack -- well designed, and when I use it, it makes me happy to travel or at least weekend around. Yes, I just use 'weekend' as a verb.

The trouble is, the strap broke. Nice design, Jack, but horrible construction, at least when the weight's got you down. Enter my man Edward. They've got a location in SF but I was down in San Mateo and stopped in. Very quickly, a nice sales lady steered me towards a replacement strap that went with the look and feel of said bag, while giving me the shoulder support that a man of my tender age and disposition needs.

Edwards is no Flight 001 (http://www.yelp.com/bi...), which I also love, but they do have some good luggage and travel accessories; to paraphrase Johnny Cochran, "If the strap fits, you know they're legit."