The Sac Rag

One of the reasons I like Thanksgiving so much — other than it’s the best family-gathering, food-binging, drink-sopping, politics-arguing, non-religious party you can have — is the focus on pies. Many holidays have their particularly associated desserts, but none is more aligned with the pie than Thanksgiving. My favorite is the pumpkin. For me, nothing captures the flavors of fall better than a pumpkin pie, and in the week following t-day, the best example I’ve been able to find is at Green Boheme on Del Paso Blvd.

Here’s the weird part, Green Boheme is a raw, vegan restaurant. Yeah. I know. Yet, their refrigerated pumpkin pie is so incredibly rich and spicy and caramelly and nutty and irresistable that I found myself pulling a When Harry Met Sally Meg Ryan routine while I greedily spooned the ridiculously dense goodness into my mouth. I didn’t care that it was raw; I didn’t care that it was vegan. Hell, I wouldn’t have cared if it had been made by a team Islamo/facist kiddie ticklers. The pie was extraordinary.

Also, if you haven’t dropped by Green Boheme for their regular meals, do it. Their food is always spot on and creative. I always expect to make compromises for flavor or texture or some such thing due to the limited range available in raw cooking, yet each time I find myself loving every bite without reservation. Take the time to check it out, it’s a winner.

P.S. For those that remember, last year I was accused of being an animal slaughtering carne asadist for calling Sugar Plum Cafe out on being awful . Not knowing the politics/border wars between vegans and raw dawgs (isn’t that what you call them), I’m sure this won’t assuage any tempers but just open old wounds, but hey, I tried.

I’d like to get all snark-tastic with the new bar and eatery, Hook & Ladder, but the truth is, it’s pretty good. The beer selection is good, the wine list is good, service = good, food mostly good, interor quirky but good. I’m not roasting the place. It doesn’t deserve that, but it deserves a quick spell on defrost.

First, huzzah to the H&L crew for stocking Rainier beer. It’s a rare treat and worth the price of admission right there. Also, a pat on the back for hiring that Zooey Deschanel doppleganger bartender. I’m sure she’ll keep the age-inappropriate men and suburban hipsters coming through the doors for uncomfortable flirting sessions. Additionally, the wine on tap is a great choice — economical, ecological, ergonomic — and I heartily applaud it.

My problem is with the little stuff. I know this is a professional hazard of the food writing biz, the looking at everything a little too critically, from the napkin rings to the toothpicks (c’mon, who even uses napkin rings anymore?), but something should be said in this case.

Take, for example, the decor. It’s a strange mashup of dilapidated Coney Island chic and brothel moderne. If you don’t look at it too closely, it feels cool, it feels hip, it feels current. Start pulling away the edges and none of it makes sense. Like, why are the cocktail tables made from retro board games? In what possible design asthetic does that fit? How does that blend with the industrial theme? Why are the beer taps installed upsideown causing them to drip constantly? Why is the place called Hook & Ladder Manufacturing Company?  Are they stamping out aluminum frames in the kitchen? Is the name of the place a tribute to firemen or the people that make fireman ladders? Or are they being cute for the sake of being cute? Continue reading “Lad & Hooker, err Hook & Ladder”