Yogurtsoda Gratuitous food and travel.

Anthony Bourdain famously quipped in Kitchen Confidential: “I don’t eat mussels in restaurants unless I know the chef, or have seen, with my own eyes, how they store and hold their mussels for service. I love mussels. But, in my experience, most cooks are less than scrupulous in their handling of them.” I’ve followed suit and to this day, rarely give in to a mussel craving when I eat out. Besides, they’re so ridiculously easy to cook at home.

I usually give mussels a French marinière treatment: white wine, garlic, parsley, and a bit of butter. This time, I was craving something more complex, so I tried a Southeast Asian version. Fragrant and spicy-sweet, this Thai riff goes well alongside jasmine rice.

Ingredients:

1 shallot, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 tablespoon vegetable or coconut oil
1 stalk lemongrass, cut into 3-in. pieces and crushed
1 can (14 ounces) coconut milk
2 tablespoons Thai red curry paste
2 tablespoons fish sauce
1 tablespoon brown sugar
3 pounds mussels, scrubbed
1/4 cup chopped basil leaves, plus slivered leaves for garnish
1 lime, cut into wedges

1. Saute shallot and garlic in oil in a large pot over medium heat until fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes. Add lemongrass and cook 1 to 2 more minutes. Pour in coconut milk, then stir in curry paste, fish sauce, and sugar. Increase heat to high and bring to a boil.

2. Add mussels, stir until coated, and cover. Cook, stirring occasionally, until mussels open, about 5 minutes. Stir in chopped basil and spoon into wide, shallow bowls, discarding any unopened mussels. Garnish with slivered basil and squeeze with lime to taste.

Ever since I visited Japan a couple of years ago, I’ve been on the hunt for the best ramen I can find this side of the Pacific. Sure, I’ve had good ramen in the Bay Area, but nothing like what I tasted on the streets of Shinjuku. I’ve been looking for that sweet spot: chewy noodles, salty but not overpowering broth, and no skimping on the toppings.

I finally found it at Tanpopo in Japantown. A colleague suggested it to me and on a rainy afternoon, we headed over for lunch. She recommended the kyushu ramen, which I ordered.

Kyushu ramen (named after Japan’s southernmost island) is a specialty at Tanpopo: a cloudy, rich broth called tonkotsu, served with egg noodles, boiled bean sprouts, red ginger, chashu pork, bamboo shoots, boiled egg, fishcake, seaweed, and green onions. Whew. My only complaint is that the egg wasn’t soft, but then again, this was one of the few times I’ve finished my entire bowl of ramen.

Tanpopo is nearly always busy, so plan accordingly, especially since Japantown can be a bit out of the way and service at Tanpopo can be brusque. I can’t speak to their other styles of ramen, but the kyushu ramen alone is worth the trek.

I used to hate green beans. Growing up, I inexplicably dreaded the loobia polo that most kids loved: an Iranian rice pilaf of green beans, browned lamb, tomatoes, and spices. It wasn’t until recently when I tried Sichuan-style dry-fried green beans that I’ve come around to loving the legume. It was the spicy, garlicy flavor that made me change my green bean-hating ways, and now, I can’t get enough.

Long beans are traditionally used in this recipe, but green beans work as well. Feel free to omit the ground chicken as well for a vegetarian version. Last but not least, make sure your beans are completely dry before frying them — this will ensure a blistered texture.

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1/2 pound ground chicken
1/4 cup chicken stock
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons minced garlic
2 teaspoons chili garlic sauce or chili bean sauce
1/4 teaspoon sesame oil
1 cup vegetable oil
3/4 pound green beans or long beans, ends trimmed and cut into 3-inch lengths

1. Marinate the chicken: stir 1 tablespoon of the soy sauce and cornstarch together in a medium bowl until the cornstarch is dissolved. Mix the chicken in the marinade until incorporated. Let stand for 10 minutes.

2. Prepare the sauce: stir the chicken stock, soy sauce, sugar, garlic, chili garlic sauce, and sesame oil together in a small bowl until the sugar is dissolved.

3 Pour the oil into a 2-quart saucepan and heat over medium-high heat. Carefully slip the green beans into the oil and cook, stirring continuously, until they are wrinkled, about 5 minutes. With a slotted spoon, transfer the beans to paper towels to drain. Reserve the oil.

4. Heat a wok over high heat until hot. Pour in 2 teaspoons of the reserved oil and swirl to coat the sides. Slide the chicken into the wok and stir-fry until the meat is crumbly and changes color, about 2 minutes. Add the green beans and sauce and stir until heated through, 1 to 2 minutes. Scoop the contents of the wok onto a serving plate and serve warm.

Sunrise Deli bills itself as “the best falafel in town,” and well, I think it’s true. With three locations in San Francisco and one in Berkeley, it’s become my go-to casual lunch spot when I’m craving Middle Eastern food. I frequent their SOMA restaurant, and on most visits, I can count on a line.

My favorite dish at Sunrise Deli is the falafel plate. Served with hummus, tahini, pita bread, and super-flavorful olives and pickled vegetables, the falafels are moist on the inside and crispy on the outside — no small feat. Best of all, Sunrise Deli’s falafels are fresh, with their vegetables picked from local farms and their bread baked at the Irving Street outpost. During my last visit, my dining companions had the chicken shawarma and shawarma plate and spoke similar praises of their freshness.

Sunrise Deli has been around since the early 1980s, so I fully accept my late pass in discovering this Bay Area establishment. But be forewarned — their SOMA restaurant closes at 4:30, so you’re better off satisfying your craving during the day.

Tequila and raw fish? This won’t end well, I thought to myself when I first heard of Hecho, the Financial District’s new robata and sushi bar boasting over 80 tequilas. I met a friend for dinner at Hecho the first time I visited, not entirely sure what to expect.

I was pleasantly surprised. We were quickly seated inside the small interior and and started off with a couple of house margaritas while we perused the menu.

We started with the smoked pickled daikon and tuna-cucumber maki. Hecho’s menu isn’t very lengthy, but what they offer is unique — no California rolls here. The vinegary daikon were super crunchy and the tuna was good quality and fresh, a welcome relief as I took another sip of tequila.

Next came the chicken karage, my favorite small plate at Hecho — perfectly crisped, super succulent chicken glazed with a spicy-sweet sauce.

Hecho isn’t the kind of place to go to if you’re ravenous — the small plates are, well, small. But they’re artfully presented and tasty. On my second visit with another friend, we ordered a few maki and finished off with a plate of cured hamachi.

Plated on a pink salt block and garnished with candied jalapeno and lemon oil, the fish was almost too pretty to eat. (Not that it stopped us.)

As it turns out, tequila and sushi can and do go together. After all, if sake is a mainstay in sushi bars , why not tequila?