Chocolate Souffle
Hello again Foodie Friends, Well, it appears that a growing number of you are actually enjoying reading about the back stories behind the restaurants and foods that I’ve created over the past 5 decades. I’m more than a little pleased to hear this because I enjoy sharing these with those of you who are interested. I recently had a friend, who I had not seen in quite some time, (good to reconnect with you Paul) mentioned to me that I should write a book. Thinking that he meant a cookbook, my response was it’s a very deliberate and time-consuming process with all the recipes having to be tested and blah, blah, blah. His response was “No I mean writing a book telling the history behind all that you have created over the years.” I said that basically that’s what I’ve recently started to do on my Blog and invited him to log on. So here we go…this story is a rather, long and winding road but it’s for those who ask about my chocolate souffle, which I originally introduced at Bistro 201 in Irvine way back in June of 1990, re-introduced it at French 75 in Laguna Beach in 1998, and recently re-reintroduced at my Tavern House and Tavern at the Mission restaurants. The story really started when I was living in Boston working for the Copley Plaza Hotel back in the mid 70’s. It was during the time that they were bussing students and there was much racial unrest taking place in the city. I had beautiful walk-up apartment in a great neighborhood on just 2 blocks from the Boston Commons and the Ritz Carlton but within a period of 1 month I was held up while walking home from the hotel twice…once at gunpoint and once at knifepoint. I thought that perhaps God was trying to tell me something? One week later on a Friday afternoon when I came home early from work to find that my apartment had been broken into and half my belongings stolen, I then knew he was telling me something…it’s time to move. I had a really funny, crazy friend from college who lived on Balboa Island who had been bugging me about coming to visit and see what SoCal was all about so I finally decided to hop on a plane and check it out. He picked me up at what was then called just the Orange County Airport when it was just the coolest place. It had a little seafood restaurant on the second floor called Delaney’s where you could have great clam chowder, a glass of wine, and watch the planes taking off and landing (check out the photo), So, Jon said that the first thing he was going to introduce me to was a place on PCH not far away called the ‘Date Shack’ where I had my first, iconic date shake…it was awesome….(btw…not a word I used to describe it then because this was before it was popularized by Anthony Spicoli). We then dropped off my bag at his place on Balboa and toured the area for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening taking the Ferry over to the peninsula to enjoy a Chili Cheese Dog at Charlie’s Chili and then finally finishing the night with a frozen banana at Dad’s. The following day Jon said he had to go to LA for a couple of days to show a property in the Hollywood Hills he was listing and asked if I wanted to come along…never having been to LA I was, of course, all in. We drove up the next morning and spent the night at his amazing listing. Sitting on a hillside complete with a gorgeous view of the LA lights, swimming pool and tennis court, I was beginning to understand the lure of the Hollywood Hills. Next morning we’re sitting in the kitchen having coffee when the doorbell rings. In walks the agent with no other but her client Gene Wilder. Now you have to remember that this was shortly after the release of ‘Blazing Saddles’ in which he played one of the leading roles as ‘The Waco Kid’ so, as a fan, I was starstruck. Having experienced many quite snobbish celebrities at Maxwell’s Plum, I was not sure what to expect but he was the nicest, most soft spoken, engaging guy…he made my day. BTW…Blazing Saddles was just named as the funniest movie of all time by American Film Institute. OK, by now you’re wondering, are you ever going to get to your f’ing chocolate souffle? Yes…I am. That night Jon said I’m taking you to The Bistro Garden, which is one of the most popular and iconic restaurants in Beverly Hills for one of the best desserts you’ve ever had….their Chocolate Souffle. I was beginning to establish a pattern here with him…Jon had a serious sweet tooth. Time for a little, but really fascinating, side bar here to give you some context about Jon and his lineage. His Dad was Al Jarvis, and without going into an explanation about him that could take quite some time, he was the man widely credited as inventing and becoming LA’s first true radio disc jockey and one of the architects of modern music broadcasting. He launched a revolutionary program in the mid 1930’s called ‘The Make-Believe Ballroom’…a show that played records continuously while Jarvis probed commentary, introductions, and personality driven banter…this format simply did not exist before. At a time when radio was dominated by live studio orchestras, he dared to build a show aroundrecorded music treating the studio like a glamorous imaginary dance hall. He spoke as if a live band were performing, creating an atmosphere that felt intimate, stylish, and brand new. This shift from live performance to curated recorded music became the foundation of what modern radio is today. Please excuse me here, because I’m off topic, but I want to go on
French 75
Bonjour Amis, I’m wearing my virtual beret this morning because over the years many have asked how I came up with ‘French 75’ as the name for what becamemy iconic, Bistro in Laguna Beach. Well, actually that was not the first name I was going to call it. Originally, it was going to be ‘The Snail Club’ as kind of a tongue in cheek name for a French Bistro. I even had a blade sign designed that would hang over the front door showing a snail with a burnished brass shell. However, my partner John Martin, who was the sitting CEO of Taco Bell at that time, didn’t think that was such a great name. In fact, in our years together as partners, having opened 9 restaurants together, it was the one and only time he ever insisted on overruling me on any decision…I’m glad he did. We were in the midst of our remodel so I needed to come up with another name quickly. One day I was asked by a Guest about how I got started in the business and what the first restaurant was that I had ever worked in. I was telling him the story about my first job at the very popular ‘Maxwell’s Plum’ in Manhattan and how I had lied my way into being hired as a captain where I opened wine and prepared Ceasar salads and steak tartare tableside for guests. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my 2 summers spent working there during my college years played a significant role in my ending up in this business. I’d like to share a little bit of history here in order to provide some context. Maxwell’s Plum was a flamboyant restaurant bar that operated in New York City from 1966 to 1988. Located on the Upper East Side, it was highly influential for its eclectic menu, Art Nouveau decor, and role in launching the 1960s “swinging singles” bar scene as it was widely considered one of the first and most prominent places to popularize the concept. It fundamentally altered the NYC social scene by merging dining, socializing, and casual mingling in a vibrant, relaxed setting. Owned by restaurateur Warner LeRoy (son of Hollywood producer Mervyn LeRoy), the space was famous for its kaleidoscopic stained-glass ceilings, glowing Tiffany lamps, and whimsical ceramic animals hanging from the ceilings. The expansive menu featured everything from gourmet burgers and chili to Iranian caviar and wild boar, even earning highly coveted stars from the New York Times. During its heyday, it was a massive magnet for the “in-crowd,” frequently hosting celebrities, artists, and notable figures like Warren Beatty, Cary Grant, Danny Kaye, and Barbra Streisand. The name itself was simply chosen on a whim by its creator, who wanted an offbeat, warm-sounding name that also included a food word. Anyway, I was sharing some of my stories with the guest, including my steak tartare ‘cookoff’. One lunch I had prepared several steak tartares and at the end of my shift the General Manager confronted me. Frenchman Jacques Alliman was an imposing 6’-4” version of Gerard Depardieu and he had noticed that I was not following the house recipe that I was taught. Naively, I responded that I had received numerous compliments on my version to which he said “Well, we shall see…you prepare your version, I will prepare mine and we will compare.” So, in the company of half a dozen waiters we did just that. After we finished Jacques took a taste of his version and then mine. He looked at the group and said “My version of zee tartare is very good…but David’s is better.” From that point on, every server came to me to prepare a tartar when ordered by a guest. My secret ingredient?… touch of A-1 sauce. Little did I know then that somewhere deep inside me it instilled the confidence in my own taste buds. So back to French 75, as I was telling this story I remembered another incident that was a lightning bolt that hit me at the time. One chilly and windy afternoon as lunch was winding down, I was waiting at the service bar for a bottle of wine a guest had ordered, when a tall, blonde bombshell walked into the restaurant and sat at the bar just a couple stools from me. She was dressed in fur, a gorgeous shimmering dress and dripping with jewelry. The bartender came over to her and asked her what she would like to drink. She said, “I’d like a French 75.” I remember thinking….OMG…that isthe sexiest sounding drink I have ever heard of. Well, that was it…when I remembered this incident, I had to call my new place French 75. But I wanted to do some research into the history of this drink and how it got its name. I discovered that in 1898 a modern new cannon was introduced by the French onto the battlefield. This 75-millimeter field gun was renowned for its speed, accuracy and explosive power. During the 1910’s, when military culture permeated everyday life, a potent new cocktail made with Cognac and Champagne was named after this beloved French weapon as it hit with the same force as being shelled by one. I wrote a back story behind almost every concept I developed and the one for French 75 was a nostalgic look back as a GI stationed in Paris remembering the little bistros and the beautiful French women….even the logo I had developed included an image of an old DC-3 right out of Casablanca. The finishing touch was the mural above the bar I had commissioned depicting a ‘Champagne War’ with naked cherubs and monkeys playfully shooting corks at each other. A guest once told me that they took it down when the restaurant closed…I sure would like to get it back. So, like Paul Harvey used to say…”And now you know…the rest of the story”. I hope some of you enjoyed reading this. Au
John the Baptist
Buongiorno, My Florence loving friends, On my very first trip to Italy, I was able to attend the Calendimaggio di Assisi, which is an annual, four-day medieval festival held every May in the historic hill town of Assisi to celebrate the arrival of spring. The town is split into two rival factions—Parte de Sopra (the upper district, with blue colors) and Parte de Sotto (the lower district, with red colors)—who compete in costumed parades, theatrical plays, and choir performances. The local teams plan for this all year long and it is a truly spectacular site to see. Huge bleacher seats are set up on in the piazza, so the viewing is unparalleled. However, I have not yet been in Florence on June 24th which is ‘St. John the Baptist Day’ (Festa di San Giovanni) which is the biggest local holiday in Florence. He is primarily known as the forerunner of Jesus Christ, preaching repentance and baptizing people in the Jordan River to prepare the way for the Messiah. He is also universally famous for baptizing Jesus himself. On this day the city feels like it has stepped back into its own Renaissance…pageantry, devotion, sport, and spectacle all woven into one long, sun-drench celebration. The entire day is a blend of solemn tradition and joyful chaos, and the Florentines take it seriously…shops close, streets fill, drums echo, and the night ends in a blaze of fireworks over the Arno. The morning festivities begin with a grand historical parade through the Piazza della Signoria. Participants dress in medieval and Renaissance costumes…nobles, flag-throwers and musicians. The parade culminates in the offering of candles to Baptistery, a tradition dating back centuries when wealthy families donated elaborately decorated candles to help light the churches. A solemn Mass follows, with the relics of St. John the Baptist displayed. In the afternoon there is the Calcio Storico….Florence’s wildest and most beloved tradition. It is a is a brutal, traditional sport originating from 16th-century Italy. Often described as a hybrid of soccer, rugby, and bare-knuckle wrestling, it features two teams of 27 players battling for 50 minutes in sand-covered arenas. The match begins with a parade of costumed nobles on horseback and ends with a battle dry of “Viva Firenze!” It is tribal, emotional, and deeply Florentine. As the sun sets, crowds gather along the riverbanks and bridges to watch the famous ‘Fuochi de San Giovanni, the fireworks launched from Piazza Michelangelo. It is one of Florence’s most beloved moments of the year….families eating gelato, couples perched on the river walls, and the whole city glowing under bursts of color. I don’t know about you but I’ve just added it to my bucket list. Ciao… David & Tino
Summer Corn Chowder
In California corn is available year-round, albeit in different levels of quality, but growing up in the Midwest, the tall, green fields of summer corn had a kind of beauty that felt almost indecent in its abundance….like Mother Nature showing off. It was well thought of that the sooner you cooked the corn after harvesting, the better…in fact, the decline in quality was said to be dramatic if delayed. Once you get used to corn bought from a field stand from which it came…shucked and cooked the same day….there is a difference…but that option isn’t really readily available where most of us live, unless you’re passionate enough to grow your own….I guess my siblings and I were spoiled growing up without really knowing it. Fresh corn carries a grassy sweetness that you can smell as you pull back the husks….I love it and every time I do this, it immediately brings me back to my childhood. Isn’t it amazing how smells and songs can whisp you back to earlier days and times? They are like time machines disguised as everyday life. One whiff, one chord, and suddenly you’re not in the room anymore—you’re back in your Mom’s kitchen, or the seat of your first car, or a summer night that felt like it would last forever. Scent goes straight to the limbic system—the part of the brain that handles memory and emotion—without the usual logical filters. That’s why the smell of sunscreen still drops me back onto the Fort Lauderdale beach as a very young teen when my parents packed me and 5 siblings into a station wagon and drove all the way from Michigan to spend two weeks with our grandparents. Also, just like the scent of a certain cologne can summon a person you haven’t seen in years. It’s primal, immediate, almost involuntary. You don’t remember the moment so much as you re-enter it. I’ll chat about how music does that for me in another post as it’s been a massive part of my life. But back to the corn…wait…I just had a corn flashback that I need to share. At my first restaurant in CDM back in the early 80’s my cooking was ‘California-French’ which meant my techniques were French, but I took some liberty with ingredients and one of these as corn. I remember creating a warm poached lobster salad on summer. I pan poached lobster with roasted red peppers, a puree of fresh corn, sherry and butter and served on a bed of butter lettuce and frisee with diced avocado and garnished with potato chips…it was a delicious, rich and indulgent salad. One night, however, one of my servers came to me and said there was a well-dressed, somewhat elderly French woman who wanted to speak to me, and he indicated that she seemed to be quite agitated. So, I went to her table and introduced myself to her and said I understood she wished to speak to me. She said “Oui…I cannot believe you are serving zee corn….it is only for zee pigs!” I was taken back a bit by this but I knew where she was coming from. As iconic as corn was in America, back then, she was right…the French never dreamed of serving corn. How far they have come now serving corn coulis, custard and even ice cream. Now back to where I was…shucking the ears uncovers the kernels that are plump, tight and glowing little beads of gold arranged in rows with the precision of a cathedral pews. And when you turn them into chowder, something alchemical happens. I’m not talking about the kind of thick, pasty New England Clam Chowder that people love. No, my version of corn chowder is more like the beautiful version served at The Ivy in Beverly Hills. It’s thin, un-thickened, and simple…goosed with some jalapenos but essentially allowing the goodness of the almost still raw corn to remain the star accented by a little fresh tarragon. But a bowl of it is $21 bucks…. gotta love LA. Want to add some Maine Lobster?….now you’re at $44, but I’m not complaining about the price of this version. Sometimes at home when I’m feeling all ‘Diamond Jim’ like (or Elon Musk for you kids) I will slow poach some lobster meat in butter and cream sherry and add it to the chowder….the result is decadent and divine. I do add pecan wood bacon to my version just because the smoky counterpoint it adds to the sweetness of the corn really works for me and the sweetness of the tarragon but if you want to keep it vegetarian, 86 the bacon and it’s still damn good…just don’t use frozen corn or dried tarragon. Here’s my version…it’s pictured with one of my favorite salads…butter lettuce, heirloom tomatoes, toasted almonds and a gorgonzola vinaigrette. David & Tino
Southern Comfort Burger
Hey Food Friends, I introduced this burger when I was the founder and operating partner of Jimmy’s Famous American Tavern. I was familiar with Elvis’s favorite sandwich made with peanut butter, jam and copious amounts of bacon, but one day was wondering what his favorite burger might have been. In doing some research I found he had none, although he did have a penchant for Krystal sliders, so I decided to create on that I was sure he would have liked. I’ve always liked to combine what I call my 3 S’s…spicy, sweet and smoky and I wanted it to be influenced by the deep south so felt it just HAD to include one of the most popular staples….pimento cheese. The smokiness would come from the Pecan wood smoked bacon and the sweet and spicy would both come from the jalapeño jam. One try of this unlikely combo and I was hooked….just added some crispy onion fritters for a little extra height and texture. I have to admit that one Sunday for Brunch I did make this sandwiched in between two Krispy Kreme’s… Hey, I told you I was from the Midwest.. Hope the brave ones among you take one for a test drive this month… You’re welcome… David & Tino
Florentine Chicken
In Florence, tucked just off Via del Porcellana, there is a tiny dining room that feels less like a restaurant and more like a time capsule. Sostanza…..or, as the locals lovingly call it, Il Troia….is one of the city’s oldest, most unadorned, most fiercely beloved institutions. White tiles, wooden chairs, a few tables pressed close together, and a kitchen that seems to run on equal parts tradition and stubborn Florentine pride. And from that kitchen comes a dish so deceptively simple, so quietly transcendent, that it has become a pilgrimage item: the world‑famous butter chicken, or pollo al burro. Prior to my first visit to Florence years ago I was told by a friend who had spent several summers in Tuscany about this dish. He said I had to try it and if it wasn’t simply the best chicken dish that I have ever eaten that dinner was on him….he was right. In fact, a few years later when he threw a birthday party at his home for his wife for 40 guests, he asked me if I could figure out the recipe for it and give it to his caterer so it could served to his guests….I did and it was. This legendary dish is almost comically straightforward. No sauces. No flourishes. No secret marinades. Just fresh chicken breasts, patted dry, seasoned with the confidence of a century-old kitchen, and laid into a pan of European butter—the good stuff, the kind that smells like pasture and sunshine. The pan goes into a scorching oven. The butter foams, then deepens, then turns that perfect nutty brown that only happens when someone who has done it ten thousand times is watching over it. The chicken basks in it, drinks it in, emerges bronzed and glistening, swimming in a pool of fragrant, bubbling gold. When it arrives at the table in the dish it’s baked in, it’s surprisingly humble looking.. Two pieces of chicken, a lake of browned butter, with a wedge of lemon to squeeze over the top. But the first bite is where the spell is cast. The meat is impossibly tender, the butter rich but never heavy, the browned edges tasting like the best parts of roasted poultry distilled into a single moment. It’s the kind of dish that makes you put your fork down for a second, smile to yourself, and think, How can something this simple be this good??? My friends, if you ever travel to Florence this is a must…the restaurant is tiny so reservations are a must and need to be made well ahead of time. BTW….I’m adding this dish to our June Wednesday ‘Tucci Night’ specials….oh Hell yes she said! I should also mention their second famous dish… Tortino di Carciofi…artichoke custard….but I’ll save it for another post. Ciao… David 2.0 & Tino
COVID Memories
Friends, This will be the second of my new 2.0 Blog posts and I am pretty certain by now that you know that I don’t post anything that doesn’t resonate deeply with me on some level. Last week, out of the corner of my eye, I caught site of the whistleblower hearings discussing whether Dr. Fauci really knew about the source of the Corona virus and it triggered some pretty vivid memories of when Covid first hit us that I started revisiting many of them. My partner and I had just purchased the old 3Thirty3 location on Newport Harbor and were just starting to get our sea legs as Tavern House when all hell broke loose. The information on the nightly news about how it was spread was confusing and frightening. Everyone was wearing masks when out and about and even wearing gloves when pumping their own gas. Newsome told businesses to shut down, Gregg was out sick for an indeterminate period of time, and I couldn’t bear the thought of laying off 40 of our employees going into the holiday season so I opted to stay open, despite repeated threats that our liquor license would be revoked. Newport Beach supported us in spades, with and without masks, for which I am truly grateful for to this day. But today this post is about the most vivid of my memories of a young Italian kid who, in the midst of one of the most horrible shutdowns that occurred in Italy, found the inspiration to stand on a rooftop in a deserted Piazza in Rome, and play with his electric guitar one of the most beautiful songs every written by my favorite composer of all times….Ennio Morricone…Deborah’s Theme from the movie ‘Once upon a Time in America’…Italian flag next to him waving bravely in the wind. Having grown up in a household filled with music and with 12 years of classical piano under my belt, I feel confident in saying that, in my not always so humble opinion, Morricone was a genius among modern movie theme and song writers. His diverse and far-ranging works included soundtracks for Clint Eastwood’s ‘Spaghetti Westerns’ to the dark and haunting music behind ‘The Mission’ and some of the most beautiful love songs every written. You know…it’s about the human condition we all live in every waking moment but we get so caught up in just going through the motions we don’t remember to stop and soak in the beauty and glory of simple f’ing things that are right before our eyes and ears. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older and could be considered by some to be living in the ‘drop zone’…although I don’t subscribe to that. No, I’d rather think it’s a part of my 2.0 awakening that feels the need to urge others to slow down and embrace the beauty that happens in our lives..(can you say Italians?) It’s there…you just need to learn to recognize it…it’s as simple as one kid on a rooftop who makes me cry every time I listen to him play this song to a stricken, confused and depressed city of everyday Italian people. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s such a beautiful piece of music or that this young kid had the vision to know that his City needed some reassurance that the beauty of their lives would some day return…I think it’s a little of both but God bless this kid. So be on the lookout for these soulful beauties that fall in front of you…call a damned time out in your busy lif…they are out there waiting for you to behold every day. Yes, some more special than others, but I promise that they will enrich your spirit and soul and in a way that will also inspire you to share these special ‘joy gems’ as I like to call them, with those in your life who are longing to share their gems with you as well. Written by Tino 1.0…(edited by David 2.0) Love and blessings to you all…
Am I Turning Italian?
Hey Foodie Friends, To kick things off with my new style of posts here, most recently many of you have commented curiously about my recent focus on Italian foods, especially with my recently introduced ‘Tucci Night’ at Tavern at the Mission…is 2.0 turning Italian? In order to best explain this, I think a little background as to how I even ended up in this business might shed some light on my current state of mind. My passion for food started when, as a teenager I first recall one snowed in winter night reading my Mom’s ‘A Treasury of Recipes’ Cookbook by Vincent Price….why in the hell a Michigan Mom had this book I regret I never bothered to ask, but I was fascinated by all the exotic recipes that he had included from restaurants he and his wife had visited around the world. That, combined with the fact that my Mom, Cassie as she was called, prepared 3 meals a day for her husband and 6 kids (she was also called Saint Catherine) meant the kitchen was always filled with wonderful, cooked from scratch smells that helped set the stage for me eventually becoming immersed in a life that was all about food, although it wasn’t until years later that I realized that was how the seeds were all planted in me. Jumping way, way ahead now…like 15 years… (maybe I’ll share what happened in the interim period at a later date) when I opened my first restaurant Pavé in CDM in the early 80’s my menu expressed my love and fascination with French Cuisine, albeit with a California flair, whatever that was supposed to mean. But about a year after opening I became smitten with the whole ‘Contemporary Southwestern Cuisine’ movement as popularized be a handful of Chefs in LA, Dallas and, of course, Santa Fe. I began offering a separate specials sheet each night featuring some of my takes with items like BBQ Duck Saddlebag, Sweet Corn & Shrimp Tamale, Black Bean Cake topped with Grilled Spanish Gambas. Although I was unaware of this, one night Larry Cano, founder of El Torito, dined with use and a week later I received a call from his office asking if I would be willing to meet with him at their corporate offices. Very curious about this, I of course gladly accepted the offer, during which Larry explained to me that he was looking to develop a next generation restaurant that embraced the types of dishes I was creating at Pave. Long story short, he offered this ‘DS’ gringo kid from Michigan the title of Director of Concept Development and the carte blanche opportunity to create what eventually became the El Torito Grille, the first of which I opened in Fashion Island in the mid 80’s. Larry was a kind and gentle man with a great smile and love for his culture and he provided me with a springboard that led to an amazing 45 year career in this business. I considered him a dear friend and will forever be in his debt for what he offered me. Fast forward, I got a case of the happy feet and after 4 years at ET left to open my own Southwestern concept in downtown Laguna Beach…Kachina. After that I opened multiple concepts initially in the OC but eventually in San Diego and LA County as well. Never having been to Europe until later in life, I eventually enjoyed trips to Paris and Tuscany, and while I loved and knew all the traditional dishes of the French Bistros and Brasseries, my first exposure to Tuscan cooking took me quite by surprise. Growing up in the Midwest, Italian food pretty much was all about ‘heavy red’…don’t get me wrong, I love a good spicy meatball as much as any of the dudes on the Jersey Shore, but the simplicity of Tuscan cooking was not something I expected. Eating in Italy, especially Tuscany, does tend to feel healthier and cleaner, and there are real reasons for that. The magic isn’t mystical; it’s cultural, agricultural, and deeply tied to how Italians think about food, time, and pleasure. cuisine is built on fresh ingredients, simple preparations, balanced meals, and portion sanity — which naturally makes it feel cleaner, lighter, and more nourishing. Freshness is their religion…they are obsessed with things like Produce that’s in season Fish that was swimming yesterday Herbs picked that morning Olive oil pressed locally When the raw quality of ingredients are that good, you don’t need heavy sauces or processing. The food tastes alive on it’s own. It’s about a minimal number and maximum flavor of the ingredients in dishes…cooked simply and lightly seasoned. I have a record of often criticizing some Chefs for having way too many ingredients in a single dish as if trying to show how creative they are. Tomatoes + basil + olive oil + salt. No preservatives, no mystery ingredients, no “cream of something” shortcuts. Olive oil over butter, although there is a big difference between north and south….EVO is big in the South…butter often used in the North. I think we all know that extra‑virgin olive oil is, anti‑inflammatory, rich in antioxidants and heart‑healthy and is the backbone of Italian cooking. Italians eat vegetables: before the meal (antipasti) during the meal (contorni) mixed into pastas and soups It’s not a side thought — it’s the architecture of the meal. I mentioned portion sanity earier…pasta is portioned, not piled In Italy, pasta is a first course, not a trough, 4–5 ounces, not 10 and it’s balanced with vegetables, seafood, or lean proteins. It’s a pleasure that can be indulged in without worry of being excessive…moderation in all things right? Their proteins are by and large, lean and simple with lots of fish, beans, eggs, chicken and cured meats but in small amounts. The one exception to be sure is their porchetta which must be occasionally enjoyed as I did once in my backyard rotisserie. The is very little
Derby Day
Hello Friends, Yesterday’s Derby Day at TATM felt like pure magic. From the moment we opened, the patio filled with color, laughter, and that unmistakable Derby sparkle — elegant women in whimsical fascinators, and one unforgettable gentleman in a peacock ensemble that could have graced the cover of a magazine. The Juleps — mint, peach, blackberry — were flowing like we had a direct line to Kentucky itself. The spicy Southern Pimento Dip became the unofficial star of the afternoon. And by the time the horses lined up, the Tumbleweed Bar was shoulder‑to‑shoulder, roaring, laughing, and rocking.Valentino made his rounds, of course, offering charm and smiles to delighted guests. Thank you for gathering with us to honor a tradition that stretches deep into American history — older than the race car, older than the Indy 500, older than so many rituals that define us today. When we created Tavern at the Mission, we hoped to build a place that felt like the taverns of early California — a true meeting place, a home for stories, laughter, and connection. Yesterday reminded us how beautifully South County has embraced that vision. Shall we saddle up and do it all again for the Belmont Stakes on June 6?
A Time for Winter Reflection
As opposed to New Year’s Resolutions, which I don’t do right away, during the early quieter winter times I usually take the time to reflect on my last year. What would I have done differently? I would have spent more time interacting with my Guests at my restaurants. What would I have like to have done that I didn’t get to? I had a lot of ideas for new specials that I didn’t get to. Did I make any new friends. Yes, happily I made 4 new friends. Did I do anything to reinforce the love I have for my current friends? No, I didn’t but I went through a rough patch recently and they were all there to support me so I plan on returning their love this year. Did I lie to anyone? Yes, I lied to myself about a personal health issue that I kept putting off. I would urge all of you to look back, look forward, and add any new questions about yourselves. This winter reflection has served me will over my adult life. I wish you and your friends and families Peace, Joy & Love in 2026…
