The other day I went to a demonstration of the new version of the Nomiku, the home sous vide machine I wrote about in June. Its creators very wisely chose to demonstrate its merits via a breakfast from the crew at Prubechu, which is very likely the only restaurant in the city serving the food of Guam. Among the dishes they served us was a sous vide duck egg served with cherry tomatoes, arugula, and sous vide bacon on top of red rice. The egg yolk had the exact consistency of custard—it may have been the richest, creamiest egg I’ve ever eaten, and made a stellar case for sinking $100-plus into a home immersion circulator.—R.F.M.
Every so often I have what I call a HFS moment of food discovery—it’s what happens when I bite into something so deliriously good that all I can think is “holy fucking shit.” My latest HFS moment came when I bought a box of candy stripe figs at the Noe Valley farmer’s market last Saturday. I’d heard about the mind-warping goodness of these figs, and between their jam-like consistency and ambrosial sweetness, they did indeed short-circuit my brain. I’m planning to go back for more this Saturday, and every Saturday until fig season comes to its sadly inevitable close.—R.F.M.
Last night I checked out Palm House, and while the overall experience was on the underwhelming side, I did enjoy the restaurant’s Puerto Rican smashed avocado. It was a smallish serving of, yeah, smashed avocado, adulterated with cumin, lime juice, and red onion, and doused—crucially—with a life-affirming amount of habanero sauce. Studded with shards of papad, a thin, crisp flatbread also known as papadum, it was beautifully balanced both flavor- and texture-wise; I could have made a meal of it, and wish I had.—R.F.M.