Bland Diego

Emili christened the naval port city of San Diego as Bland Diego. I think that's because the politics and culture are bleh in comparison to Los Angeles. But I must say that the food scene is thriving in this Republican town. Perhaps the locals are eating and drinking away their worries as their real estate plummets in value.

In town to cover an action sports trade show, I fortified myself at lunch with a smoked salmon BLT sandwich in my hotel's restaurant, which is peculiarly named Rice even though it doesn't offer Asian cuisine. I must have been more drained than usual, because I misread the menu, assuming that the sandwich contained bacon made of smoked salmon instead of pork. It was actually layered with both smoked salmon and porcine bacon. How decadent. The double dose of protein helped me wade through the throngs of surfers and skaters who were already boozing up at 3 p.m. while their retail customers were queuing for appointments at their booths.

Figuring that since I already maxed out on my protein quota, I might as well go all the way. For dinner with my friend and local resident Arturo, I picked Sally's out of a list of five candidates that he suggested. We shared the duck quesadilla onto which the chef squirted dots of wasabi sauce. Intending to dine on lamb (I love cute furry creatures!), I had picked a syrah from a winery called Concilience in Santa Barbara, Calif. To my surprise, the syrah wasn't too heavy for the duck quesadilla. Or perhaps my palate was lightened by the bubbles from the Moet & Chandon rose champagne that I had at my hotel with Arturo before walking to Sally's. Cheers to the bubbly!

This is my lamb, resting against a pile composed of mashed potatoes and a potato and corn fritter.

For dessert, Arturo and I shared the trio of creme brulee, which, from left to right, were flavored with ginger, dark chocolate and dulce de leche. It was too bad that Arturo's special lady friend couldn't join us for dinner. We could have had a little ramekin for each person. Still, I had no problem in cleaning up the pots. Arturo's favorite was dulce de leche. Mine was dark chocolate. We both agreed that the ginger was unique -- and perhaps a little too novel. I remembered that I have a recipe for ginger pot au creme, which I tried once seven years ago when I was living in Berkeley, Calif. Unfortunately, because my then-oven's thermometer was inaccurate, the pot au creme didn't cook thoroughly in its water bath. Inspired by Sally's, I think it's time to give that recipe another go in my appropriately gauged oven in Los Angeles.

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