Happy Birthday, Carol

After sitting through a dreadful film (Brighton Rock) at the Embarcadero, Carol and Sarah and I walked the two blocks to Barbacco to enjoy an after film supper.

I often forget how much I like Barbacco. It projects casual, bar bites, hanging out, not really “dining.” And yet, their eclectic Italian fare is always imaginative, well prepared and wholly satisfying; they serve a wide variety of tasty things as you shall see – and almost all of them can and should be shared.

Herewith, some menu descriptions and photos, when I remembered to take them.

We started with, and pieced on, marinated olives, herbs and spices, and with the assistance of our server, ordered a bottle of Cantine Barbera-2009 Nero d’Avola, Sicilia, a light — and delightful, I must say — red wine, for the meal.

poached tuna and stuff... oops, ate it already

This is only a little bit of the olive oil poached tuna / corona beans / squash tomato / rucola / herbs I ordered for the table (OK, mostly for me). It looked so good — and it was — that I forgot to get out my camera until… now.

My local squid alla piastra / fennel / chili
garlic / spicy pan grattato . This dish was quite spicy, as indicated, and yes, I did share a few morsels.

my share plate

My “share plate.” To the left, Sarah’s lasagna Bolognese – spinach meat ragu / balsamella sauce pasta, an excellent preparation of the classic dish; and Carol’s polpette – Sicilian meatballs with raisins and pine nuts / braised chard / tomato sugo; not nearly as exciting as the stuff I ordered, sez I, but real tasty.

And of course, the birthday cake:

Somehow, “olive oil cake” doesn’t convey the lusciousness of this piece of cake, but luscious it was, served with marinated peaches and whipped crème fraiche.

That supper served its purpose, it took away the bad taste of the film (very unusual for SFFS Member’s preview films), and celebrated Carol’s birthday in fine style. Perhaps we should make Barbacco our regular birthday joint, but the next “local” birthday (mine) isn’t until February. Pity.