After weathering the tsunami of Napaletano-style pizzerias touting their blistered crusts and double-zero flour, newcomers like The Presidio Pizza Company, with their everday American-style pizza, suddenly seem almost exotic. The Pizza Shop (3104 24th St. near Treat St.) is the latest of these spots to open. Located in the heart of the Mission, it's anything but pretentious. The interior is almost bare bones, and the pizza, displayed in a case, looks ho hum. But a taste of it reveals a crust that's light as air and crisp. I got pepperoni, which comes with a nice tangy sauce. It hit the spot right where a slice is supposed to—not the brain but the belly. —S.D.
About a week ago, Humphry Slocombe sent out a tweet announcing the existence of their persimmon pumpkin-seed brittle ice cream. I spent the next few days plotting a trip to Local Mission Market (2670 Harrison St. near 23rd St.) to get a pint (the ice cream is made in collaboration with L.M.M.)—as a persimmon addict, I’m still in denial that the season is over. After unloading $8 from my wallet, I was rewarded with some exceptionally damn fine ice cream. It turns out that the mellow sweetness of the fruit plays very well with the saltiness of the brittle, and the crunch of the pumpkin seeds makes a compelling textural contrast to the silkiness of the ice cream. Which is a long-winded way of saying that the pint more or less disappeared within the space of 30 minutes. —R.F.M.
Feeling under the weather yesterday, I was craving a nourishing soup for lunch. On an assignment in Berkeley, I pulled off on Fourth Street to check out Iyasare, (1830 4th St. near Hearst Ave.) which opened a couple months back. For a very civilized 30 minutes, I sat at the pretty bar, and dipped into a steaming, brothy bowl of soba with spinach and the most delicious, creamy, silken tofu. That, with a pot of green tea with brown rice, and I was set. —S.D.
I’m still getting used to the fact that fruit, both fresh and dried, its taken for granted here—where I come from, fruit is something that happens maybe twice a year. Still, I have to believe that even jaded Northern Californians would be moved to tears of gratitude over the Medjool dates that Alfieri Farms sells at their Ferry Building kiosk (1 Ferry Building at Market St.). They’re like the dried-fruit equivalent of a crème brulee, with a thin, almost crackly skin that gives way to an interior so rich and moist it practically dissolves on your tongue. These are dates against which all other dates should be measured, dates that could raise all of ancient Mesopotamia from the dead. —R.F.M.
Lers Ros’ green curry is my go-to dish whenever I’m sick or just need a reminder of all that is good in the world, so the restaurant opened their new Mission location (3189 16th St. near Guerrero St.) last week, I wasted very little time in calling to place an order. Spicy, sweet, rich, and vibrant, it harbors a cargo load of red peppers, bamboo shoots, kaffir lime leaves, and Thai eggplants, the latter of which I love unconditionally for their resemblance to tiny alien watermelons. As a bonus, the flavors and heat develop over time, meaning it yields the kind of leftovers that you actually look forward to eating. —R.F.M.
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