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grits

Farmer brown

Last night we hired a sitter, met up with some friends, and headed to Farmer Brown after First Thursday at the galleries in downtown San Francisco. I didn’t see a ton, and this isn’t an art blog, but it ends up I’m a sucker for stories about stolen chickens and photos of tumbleweeds.

So six of us went to Farmer Brown (or, as my dashing husband likes to call it “Farmer John”). One of our group “has peoples” from the South, so pressure was on. She seemed satisfied with her fried chicken and collard greens and macaroni and cheese. My shrimp and grits was really rather fabulous once I removed the shards of parmesan cheese from atop it. I know cheese and grits is a thing, but the parmesan seemed out of place, no? Anyone know more about these things? I do know this: That shrimp was perfectly cooked and then given a nice and comfy bed in some creamy, lovely, stone-ground grits. And that? That was engrossing even as the conversation around me sparkled and flew.

Part of conversation centered on an upcoming spring break trip we’re taking through the Southwest — West Texas and New Mexico to be specific. Recommendations — food and otherwise — would be most welcomed.

p.s. The Dinner Files on sfgirlbybay today. If you like green garlic, that post is for you.

2009 02 06

grits
ordered it
shrimp

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Spicy crab & grits

I did not leave the house before dinner time thinking I would be having spicy crab and grits. I thought I’d be having pizza. Then I thought I’d be having Good Frickin’ Chicken. Then, for just a moment, it looked like a new Peruvian place on Mission was the answer. But, in the end, between what was open and what we wanted (or, rather, all agreed) to try… we ended up at The Front Porch. It claims to be “rocking” and it was! (Not literally, which is a bit of a shame.) I had spicy crab and grits (with plenty of sweet corn and scallions thrown in for good measure) and it was awesome.  I don’t know how those grits were so creamy (um, wait, yes I do; I’m pretty sure it was heavy cream), but the leftovers are going to make the best Monday morning breakfast I’ve had in quite some time.Ernie downed a plate of fried chicken with glee (it was difficult for the lad to let go of the GFC dream for the sake of his parents wanting to try something “new”).My dashing husband ordered the special which involved “platain risotto” and gypsy peppers and I don’t know what else. It sounded dreadful to me when the server described it and I was shocked when that order came out of his mouth. He was the less happy member of our crew.  I offered up my uneaten spicy crab and grits, but it was too late. The place was spoiled for him. Funny how that happens, huh? 

2008 09 08

chicken
corn
crab
grits
ordered it

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