death to content
plus restaurant highlights from San Francisco
I have a lot of people muted on Instagram because they make branded content. Some of them are artists whose work I enjoy. Others are, gulp, friends.
I just don’t have the stomach for invasive commercials. It bums me out that seemingly anyone can be purchased for a few thousand—sometimes a few hundred—dollars, or worse, free products. I don’t have a zero tolerance policy, but if I suddenly feel the ick, I’m out. Of course, “selling out” is subjective. We’ve all got a different threshold for it.
As much as I blame corporate avarice for the rise of branded/sponsored content, it pains me to say that we, the people, shoulder some of the responsibility. The rise of branded content coincided with a simple mantra: Get your bag. I remember the first time a comedian friend used the phrase, it was in reference to getting paid to tweet about an HBO show. Over time, this friend and I had more disagreements, and with them, the realization that we held different values.
I’m sure it matters less to other people, but once I see you selling your self (two words) for banks or fast food (things directly responsible for the horrid state of the world), once I know you can be bought, I can’t unsee it. Alison Roman and this Chase Sapphire post come to mind. Martin Short and Wells Fargo commercials. Brian Cox and McDonald’s. Similarly, when I see up-and-coming artists following the lead of their well-to-do peers, producing sponsored content for a quick few bucks, what I really want to tell them is, “Please just get a part-time job.”
Instead of pushing each other into the gruesome wood chipper of making sponsored content, I wish we would have instead urged each other to live sincerely. To find joys in simple jobs or valuable work. That it’s OK to lead innocent, unremarkable lives.
TV commercials are one thing, but to see so many ads on Instagram now is frightening. Maybe it’s naive, but I still want to harness the beauty of social media, and I still believe I can (more or less). I use Instagram to stay connected with my friends, share my work, discover bands, restaurants, and artists. Maybe to admire a dog I don’t know. Oh, shit, look at that poem! Dang this account is dedicated to trees in Los Angeles. Rad. Haha there’s my friend Cody making fruit salad, again. Cody, you kook.
As a food dude, the last thing I want to do is make food content. No thanks and actually barf. Smash cuts with the words amazing and yum. Decimal point scores. Free meals in exchange for my very thoughts. My whole business is using my thoughts, thank you very much! I’m dying for well-made creative endeavors. For richness and resonance, so I levitate towards them. Long form videos. Newsletters (I read so many!). Articles. Cookbooks. Cooking shows. Collaborate efforts with a team involved. Not poo poo in a diaper made by a baby, which is what most food content is.
What I want to do is make television. Something produced, thoughtful, and good. Which is exactly what led me to San Francisco last weekend.
Last year I wrote a newsletter detailing my time in San Francisco with James Austin Johnson, and this year, we decided to revisit, and to film it all in the spirit of creating the type of food television that we love.
Of course, I’m using the word television loosely here. We don’t have a deal with a streamer or a network. We simply bought a camera crew of friends out of our pockets, and the whole experience was very run and gun. In addition to being on camera, I produced the trip, collaborated on segments, and sent dozens (probably a hundred) emails. I was exhausted by the end of it.
Since the age of 22, I’ve dreamed of making food and travel television. Of course, like a lot of people my age, I grew up watching Bourdain. We all did. In spirit, I aimed to design my career around his: fuck up and make a lot of mistakes in my 20’s and 30’s, and then start to see success in my 40’s. I’m 41 as of last Tuesday, and I’ve fucked up plenty, so now comes the hard part.
What James and I made should live on Youtube and social media at some point, and whatever it looks like, you won’t hear me call it content. Hopefully, we get to do more. Maybe one day a streamer will give us a bag of money to make it a series, I’ll get 100,000 followers, pimp a Chase Sapphire card, and then I can delete this post for fear of being labeled a hypocrite.
Honestly, regardless of the outcome, going to San Francisco to film ourselves eating and drinking was already a lived dream. I’ve learned to value process over product, and the process here was that me and one of my best friends got to make something we love. Very fucking cool.
Of course, there’s a lot more things I want to say about San Francisco, the food, the restaurants, and our time there. But, I’ll save those for the eventual videos. For now, here’s a few of the food highlights. Jump on these if you’re in the Bay this summer.
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Anchovy Bar’s tomato & anchovy toast is San Francisco summer in a single bite
The tomato and anchovy toast at Anchovy Bar was so good we immediately ordered another. It’s a dense, sesame-seed crusted focaccia fried in clarified butter, then adorned with fresh tomato jam and pickled anchovies which come straight from the Bay. Anchovy Bar is only six years old, but I reckon this tomato anchovy toast is already a classic San Francisco treat. What’s more seasonal and sustainable than tomatoes and anchovies together on fresh bread? I love this restaurant because it’s passionate people making simple, spectacular food. In short, exactly the type of thing that gets me going out to restaurants in the first place.
It’s one of those dishes worth planning a trip around, like the others listed below.
The beef tendon at Mister Jiu’s is marvelous
This beef tendon submerged in deep crimson red has stolen the spotlight twice at Mister Jiu’s. Here’s the lowdown: Terrine is made with beef tendon and shank which is braised in a rich, vinegary stock, then sliced thin on a meat slicer. The tendon is fanned on a plate, then drowned in a special Lanzhou chili oil before being topped with fresh celery, peppers, and other aromatics. One bite and this thing combusts with flavor and texture. The chili oil is smoky and rich almost like salsa macha. The terrine is slippery (flattering), cool, and savory. What a fun, explosive appetizer.
I think I’m on a Mister Jiu’s once-a-year schedule now, and I don’t even live in San Francisco. It’s so cool what a signature dish can do for a restaurant. The beef tendon has made a regular out of me, which is the highest praise I can give a place.
Molinari just might serve my favorite Italian sandwich in California
Actually, these aren’t Italian sandwiches, but rather, sandwiches that are Italian. Don’t expect an overstuffed East coast sandwich; Molinari doesn’t serve a small hill of deli meat and fried eggplant stuffed between bread (though I love that style, too). They instead make reasonable, lovely sandwiches with sun-dried tomatoes, a few ribbons of prosciutto, mozzarella, veggies, and some pickled pepperoncini peppers.
I crave Molinari’s sandwiches on the same level that I crave an eggplant caponata or zucchini parmesan from Ceci’s Gastronomia here in LA. The bread (Dutch crunch and focaccia) is just too good to ignore, and highlights what’s wrong with so many of LA’s Italian sandos, which have a bread problem. The bread at Bay Cities is too dense. Bub & Grandma’s baguette is too chewy. Molinari’s bread, meanwhile, is perfect. Crispy, crunchy, light. This sandwich gave me life. We got the best footage of the weekend at Molinari, and directly afterwards as we sat in Washington Square. I attribute it to the sandwiches at Molinari. They inspired.
Yowza, Arsicault’s chocolate almond croissant steamrolled me
A bakery that exploded onto the scene ten years ago and still has a line out the door has my entire heart. Arsicault (prononced Arsi-ko) opened in April of 2016, and just a few short months later was named Best New Bakery in America by Bon Appétit. They have a small but powerful menu of croissants (ham & cheese, almond, and chocolate almond), kouign-amann, scones, cookies, monkey bread, and coffee. But it’s their chocolate almond croissant (pictured above) that brought me immense, romantic joy.
You could describe the croissant as “an entire-fucking-cake” to your friends, and you wouldn’t be wrong. It’s flaky, delicate, and dainty on the outside, but the center is where things get gooey, buttery, and decadent. The best thing about Arsicault is that you can smell the brown butter wafting from the restaurant while you wait in line. It’s a line that moves fast, by the way, so don’t be deterred.
The older I get, the more I turn into a dessert guy. I finished the other half of this croissant in my hotel room watching The Sheep Detectives. Did I cry while powdered sugar and croissant flakes rained down on my bed? Yes. Absolutely. Sheep Detectives is a beautiful, poignant film. Housekeeping knocked on my door during the ending, and they definitely caught me with sunken, red eyes. Probably thought it was drugs. Nah, just sheep solving murders and discovering mortality.
I’ve suspected that I’m getting more sentimental with age, and this chocolate almond croissant confirmed it. Bring me sweetness. Always sweetness.
We’re back baby. Thanks for reading The Move. Real quick, subscribe will ya??? Tell your friends. Leave a comment, too. If you’ve got any good restaurant reccs in California let me know.
Indeed.
So excited to watch what y’all filmed. And thank you for calling it television and not content.