From the people who brought you The Week in Craig, one of the all time great uses of the internet, comes The Week in Yelp, wherein Amy Blair takes aim at the ridiculousness that is the world of Yelp. Her intrepid Yelp-surfing, and words, follow:
Most of the time when I am “reading” Yelp, I find myself feeling uncomfortable, embarrassed and confused. Who are these people? What is this strange fantasyland? Am I on match.com? Does this have anything to do with food?at all? Frankly, it’s just depressing. And then I drown my sorrows in White Russians, donuts and tabloid magazines, and after a couple of hours, it really doesn’t matter anymore that fifteen individual people took the time to review a freaking Taco Bell. (They sell something called a Cheesy Double Beef Burrito for eighty-nine cents. Did it really require fifteen reviews?). So, as I was saying, it mostly just makes Amy sad. But there is one thing about Yelp I can get behind, and that’s the fact that they reward dumb behavior, which is something I also like to do in my personal life. Right. So, the Yelp “Review of the Day.” I have no idea what makes a review worthy of this esteemed honor, but I do know that in the army of socially awkward Yelp nerds, the Review of the Day is, like, the Purple Heart. Here are some of the previous posts that have received this coveted front page status. I’d ask you all to explain to me why these were singled out, but I’d rather just drink Kahlua and vodka and hang out with my cat.
First up, a post about New York’s S’Mac that was the Review of the Day last Wednesday. Yup, you guessed it. It includes a re-working of a tune from Annie about lactose intolerance. Move over Andrew Lloyd Weber, ‘cause this chick’s good. Anyone who can work the line “Got no enzyme to speak of, so” into a song gets a gold star in my book. Review of the day? Hit it boys!
To all those who share with me a complete intolerance for lactose, this one's for you, hit it boys:Next up, a review. A review of Kiss Seafood. Not just any review. A wonderful review, a divine review. A Review of the Day. Also, a gentle yet explosive mouthgasm to be savored, loved, worshipped. Seriously!
It's the hard-knock life for us!
It's the hard-knock life for us!
When we eat it,
We get sick!
When we see it,
We get pissed!
It's the hard-knock life!
Got no enzyme to speak of, so,
It's the hard-knock row we ho!
'Steada of real!
Or aching Bellies
'Steada of full!
It's the hard-knock life!
I would like to take a moment to send a little shout out to Lactaid and their Lactaid caplets for allowing me to dine on some tasty mac and cheese last night.
Upon taking three tablets, I subsequently feasted on the Parisienne. Oui oui, c'est bon. Elbows smothered in brie, rosemary, shitake 'shrooms and figs. But, sir, where are the figs? I only got a little bite of one, total bummer. This was a creamy, flavorful delight, but I could only eat about half of it, it was tres tres rich. And, well, perhaps a little too much rosemary...
The idea of this place, is kitschy and fun. It's the type of place where I will likely bring out of towners. But, as one who just can't *stand* lactose, I can't make it a habit to eat meals centered around queso.
It's seriously a hard-knock life....
pure bliss, such is kiss.
autumn in the leaves, but a night as hot and palpable as a hawaiian summer. a luminous doorway on a quiet city street, 3 small tables and a tiny bar.
white lights, white walls, and white tablecloths so pristine even a wayward drop of soy sauce might mar its snowy virginity. billie holliday and astrud gilberto float out the mesh window screen and out into the pac heights evening.
a staff of two. husband mans the sushi bar, deftly slicing, dicing, and inventing away. wife offers charming, prompt, and informative service describing the specials, written in japanese on a post-it tacked atop the menu.
special omakase - $60. chef's special sashimi platter - $38. nigori (unfiltered sake) - $7.50/glass.
excellent sake, homemade wasabi and freshly sliced homemade ginger, perfectly vinegared sushi rice.
special sashimi platter: thai red snapper, halibut, giant clam, baby squid, mackerel, tuna, yellowtail.
special omakase: 1) noodle and mushroom salad, 2) 3 appetizers - persimmon salad, slow-cooked baby octopus, whitefish with lemongrass, 4) sashimi plate - thai red snapper, halibut fin, giant clam, baby octopus, toro, amberjack, mackerel, halibut fin, baby striped bass, 5) steamed halibut, 6) egg custard with cooked whitefish topped with steamed clams, 7) nigiri plate - salmon, marinated tuna, baby striped bass, mackerel, a japanese fish with no english name, 8) shitake mushroom miso soup, 9) a slice of cantaloupe.
every cut of fish the best there is and quite possibly ever could be. most striking are the textures. each distinct and absolutely perfect. all sublime, but the standouts: toro - like melting a slice of butter in mouth, giant clam - feels like a tender subtly flavored vegetable. every bite a shut-eyed capsule to distant seascapes. a gentle yet explosive mouthgasm, to be savored, loved, worshipped.
such is the stuff of bliss...
...so danke schoen, grazie, and merci beaucoup,
...with a kiss...
And last but not least, I’m pretty sure that the only reason why this one was awarded the Review of the Day was because it utilizes the word “vibrator.” (Oo, edgy!). Can’t see any other reason.
Outside dining on a sunny afternoon is hard to beat, and hard to come by in downtown SF. Sellers Markets got lucky with this real estate and fortunately knows just how to serve the local bidness peoples in the area. Lots of seating inside and out - worth a whole star.So now you know, kids. If you want your Yelp review to be the featured Review of the Day, just randomly throw in the names of sex toys that have nothing to do with the dining experience.
The Tuna Melt was good, not spectacular - the Pollock at Frjtz now THERE'S a spectacular tuna melt. The vibrator system is nice - they do the 'ole wait outside until your vibrator vibrates and then you give the vibrator back to the people who then take the vibrator and give you your food.
Now where’s my goddamned prize, Yelp?