MenuPlease

Did you ever see “Eat Drink Man Woman”?

The story revolves around a gifted, skilled chef who has lost his sense of taste. (It's the same exact plot as “Tortilla Soup,” where the characters are Mexican-American instead of Chinese.)

Or how about the Food Network show, “Restaurant: Impossible” in which beefy Robert Irvine, on a mission to save failing restaurants, berates chefs who don't use any seasonings? “I don't use salt in case we have a customer who can't have salt,” says one clueless chef, to which Irvine snorts, “You don't have any customers.”

Which brings us to Golden Lantern. Occupying a prime spot of real estate on Churn Creek at Four Corners near Hartnell since 2007, this restaurant ought to be packing them in. It's on a busy corner with plenty of parking and lots of seating. The interior is well-lighted, clean, and attractive; service is unfailingly friendly and helpful; the generous servings are bargain-priced. But on each of three visits during peak lunch dining hours, M. de Joie observed that no more than five tables were occupied. So why isn't Golden Lantern busy?



Seafood tofu soup (medium $62.5, large $7.50) was very long on tofu and very short of seafood. There was what seemed like an entire cake of diced firm tofu in a bowl of hot but flavorless broth, bobbing along with diced carrots and some peas. After a few drops of soy sauce yielded only minor improvement, M. de Joie requested some chili paste: a driblet or two finally added some much-needed savor. As for the seafood, about 10 cocktail shrimp had sunk to the bottom of the bowl, where they nestled among an infinitesimally-small dice of an unknown sea creature.



Amico del Signore ordered almond chicken ($5.95 lunch special with steamed or fried rice and chow mein or sweet and sour pork). It looked good, it smelled good, and the zucchini and chicken were perfectly cut and cooked. But there was no flavor – as the dish cooled it seemed to become blander. Garlic and ginger are usually stir-fried together as a preliminary seasoning for most Cantonese dishes, but there was no evidence of either. The only seasonings were some chicken broth and perhaps a teeny amount of soy sauce. Fried rice was freshly prepared but likewise bland. Pork cubes had a lovely crisp coating but the sweet and sour sauce was neither. "The more you eat it," he sighed, "the less you like it."



Beef with broccoli ($5.95 lunch special) suffered the same fate as the almond chicken: great care had been taken in the prep and actual cooking, but there was no discernable flavor other than a very small amount of soy sauce. And here the two dishes collided and crawled all over each other - not the most appetizing presentation. Chow mein noodles were very overcooked and the entire dish was unfortunately quite oily.

Note: M. de Joie took the leftovers home and stir-fried them together the next with a shot of Sriracha, and that flavoring alone made them spectacular. Too bad they couldn't have been so tasty when first served.



In contrast, someone took pride in the hot and sour soup. This was a winner, with an almost creamy texture and good balance of neither too hot or too sour. Amico del Signore had never tasted hot and sour soup before, but he declared this a winner. Though there could have been a little more heat for M. de Joie's taste, it was still the best dish of the day.



Chinese chicken salad ($5.95 as an appetizer) was sloppily thrown together. Normally shredded chicken breast is used in this salad, both for aesthetics and for its ability to absorb flavorful dressings, but here some random pieces of lukewarm dark meat was scattered around the platter with large leaves of iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, peanuts, and a few none-too-crispy rice noodles. Plain rice vinegar was the only dressing. This could have been so much better with a careful presentation and a creative dressing - perhaps with sesame oil, ginger, sugar, and garlic to cut the tartness of the vinegar. As it was, the vinegar puddled on the bottom of the plate and didn't provide a cohesive element to bring the dish together.



When M. de Joie ordered beef pho ($5.50 medium, $6.50 large), the waitress asked her if she wanted the bean sprouts and Sriracha, which seemed an odd question. The accompaniments are as much a part of that warming bowl of soup as are the rice noodles. It's like asking if you want ketchup with your fries.

Right away M. de Joie noticed the thinly-sliced beef: it looked unusually white. Plucking out one slice and tasting it alone, it proved to be not beef but pork. A broth that smelled enticingly of star anise turned out to be miserably weak and thin – watery chicken and pork with little beef taste. Usually a mouthful of the rice noodles comes dripping with beefy goodness, but here they only tasted of unseasoned rice: there was no flavor to absorb. Adding a minced slice of Jalapeno, some hoisin, Sriracha, and soy helped somewhat, but still: this was a huge disappointment.

When M. de Joie had eaten about half of the pho, the waitress came by and asked if she was done with the condiment tray. Upon receiving an affimative answer, the waitress took the tray to another table – the only other occupied table. Do they only have one set of Thai condiments?

Obviously the owners of Golden Lantern are invested in this restaurant. The place is spotless, service is good, and the prices are rock-bottom. It should be successful. But there are some decided issues with the food. The chef obviously has cutting and cooking technique down pat, but isn't using the flavor card to his advantage - in fact, the flavor card seems to have been put back in the pack. And taking the time and care to present dishes appetizingly costs nothing, but seems to be getting short shrift.

Some corners are being cut – pork instead of beef, a real dearth of seafood in a seafood soup, no one in the kitchen taking time to turn out broths and sauces with exciting flavors. This may save money in the short term, but as a long term practice is ultimately destructive. Femme de Joie hopes the chef & owners of Golden Lantern will honestly evaluate the dishes coming out of the kitchen. If prices are too low to afford filling a beef dish with beef or a seafood dish with seafood, then possibly the dish needs to come off the menu, or the prices raised. Both of those are painful choices, but the restaurant should be full during the lunch hour and it's not - and that seems more painful.

Golden Lantern, 2990 Churn Creek Road, Redding, CA 96002. 530-222-1166, fax 530-222-0918. Open Tuesday through Thursday, 11:00 AM - 9:30 PM, Friday and Saturday 11:00 AM - 10:00 PM, Sunday 12:00 PM - 9:30 PM. Closed Monday. Cards, cash, no checks. Beer and wine. Vegetarian and vegan options. On-site parking. Website at http://goldenlanterncalifornia.com/

Generally Femme de Joie doesn't linger long in Anderson. It's a place she passes through on her way to someplace else. But recently she was bopping around the environs looking at thrift stores and second-hand junque places (junque being high-class junk) when, feeling peckish, she decided to take a chance on El Paraiso.

That location has seen a number of establishments come and go over the years. The only one M. de Joie recalls was The French Cafe, and since she never set foot inside it, couldn't say for sure if it was actually French or not. There were a few others since then, none of which seemed enticing, but the colorful, lively exterior of El Paraiso called her in. Inside was apparently refurbished within the last couple of years: pleasant and clean, booths lining the eastern and southern walls under the windows, a few tables in the center, and a shiny bar across the room.



Quesadilla de cameron, $9.99, was well worth the money. An extra-large flour tortilla was filled with plenty of rock shrimp and a modicum of Monterey Jack cheese, then grilled just enough to slightly crispen the tortilla and melt the cheese. Too much cheese is a sin against fish dishes, but here there was just enough to hold the quesadilla together without obliterating the sweet taste of the shrimp. Serving size was generous enough to take part home. The refried beans were especially good - about half mashed and half left whole - and along with the rice was house-made.



The menu said that if you don't see what you want, to ask and they'll make it. M. de Joie asked for fish tacos and the friendly waitress said yes, sure, they could make that for $2.39 each. This was one of the better non-deep-fat-fried versions around, loaded with fresh chopped tomatoes, lightly grilled fish, onions and cilantro, and a spicy salsa verde on the side. Like the shrimp quesadilla, there was no unpleasant "fishy" taste. The grilled green onions were a great accompaniment to each bite of fish.





Amico del Signore was eager to try out El Paraiso with M. de Joie. Being a chile rellano afficiando, he ordered the special of the day, a chile rellano burrrito. The chile rellano was made from a fresh green chile (not the somewhat slimy one out of a can) and filled with cheese, deep fried and wrapped in a flour tortilla along with rice and beans, then covered with a chunky house-made tomato sauce and cojito cheese. Ridiculously cheap at $5.99, it may not have been authentic Mexican cooking, but each taste was distinct and flavorful, not at all greasy, and good value. Alongside the burrito, A. del Signore chose a shredded beef taco - made here with a flour tortilla, so if you prefer corn tortilla (as he does), be sure to specify. Still, it was packed full of tender shredded beef in a not-too-hot savory chile sauce with cool guacamole and sour cream.



Sometimes leaden chimichangas come to the table oozing oil, but this chicken chimichanga ($9.99) was light and crisp without any greasy overtones. Packed with beans, rice, and lots of shredded chicken, and topped with guacamole, sour cream, and pico de gallo & cojita, this was a very filling lunch that did not feel heavy.

El Paraiso is a great little place for lunch or dinner, offering a family-friendly atmosphere with daily specials that make dining affordable. The fare isn't weighted down with too much sour cream or smotherings of cheese; tastes are light, fresh, and distinct. If you're in Anderson, check it out; if you're in Redding, take the drive south and enjoy this homey little place with good cooking.... or enjoy the same food in Redding, more about which soon.

El Paraiso Restaurant, 3310 West Center Street, Anderson, CA 96007. 530-378-1355. Open daily, 11:00 AM - 8:30 PM. Beer and wine. Cards, cash; no checks. Parking on-site. Vegetarian options. El Paraiso is on Facebook. Website and menu here.

It was financial necessity of one Yoshiaki Shiraishi that morphed the traditonal sushi bar from a tiny space with few seats into a novelty production that coincidentally involves food. The owner of a sushi restuarant on the outskirts of Osaka in the 1950s, Shiraishi was going broke paying master sushi chefs during times of slow business, as well as trying to please a customer base who demanded high-quality food. After visiting the Asahi brewery and observing the efficiency of conveyor belts moving beer bottles, he thought he could keep costs down by slowly moving plates of sushi past customers, allowing them to quickly choose and eat without ordering via waitstaff. (At first, Shiraishi also eliminated tables and chairs - an unpopular move he had to rescind.) If the sushi chefs were in the center of the conveyor belt, they could keep an eye on which dishes were most popular and make them up as needed. During slack times, the chefs could make up some of the most popular dishes in advance and be prepared for the next rush.

Fast forward to 1991, when Len-Sun Lai of Milpitas was issued a patent for "Interlinked watercourses for sushi boats," and the sushi floating boat theme restaurant boom was on. It's been good for the sushi business - but how good is it for the food?



Yama Sushi opened in 2008 in the space vacated by Pellegrini's Brazilian Steakhouse (a victim of the Cypress Street Bridge construction). Though there is table service available, there's no doubt that the floating sushi boats attract most of the attention. There are photo charts around the bar to guide diners through the offerings, as well as pricing guides (match the design of the little plate to the picture on the chart to see what it costs).

Rather than keep careful watch on the chart, it's more interesting to just grab a likely-looking dish from the boat and see if you like it. Though M. de Joie made an attempt to catch the names of these little plates, she was not near a chart and so just grabbed a few plates to try a variety of dishes.



Those little orange dots: tobiko, or flying fish roe. Not too salty or "fishy," they offer a nice little pop on the tongue. However, the sweet sauce drizzled on the plate tended to mask the delicate taste.



This vegetable egg roll was not quite as delightful as it could have been, as some of the ingredients had been mixed too far in advance and were on the mushy side.



M. de Joie enjoyed the surprise of a hot and spicy dish amongst the sushi and sashimi, but her dining companion was put off by the heat packed in these little meatballs. It appeared there was an attempt to add some sort of cooling sauce on the plate (see squiggles of mayonnaise-like goop on plate) but the it didn't disguise the heat.



This was a generous portion of teriyaki chicken for the price, but the bits were on their way to drying out by the time the boat came by. A last-minute light brushing of sauce before plating could have preserved the moisture.



After dining at the sushi bar, M. de Joie came back to try an off-the-menu item. Donburi is a lesser-seen dish around Redding, but one worth seeking out. Katsu don - breaded pork strips, mixed with egg and onion and made into an "omelet" on top of rice and topped with shredded carrot and scallion - made a surprisingly light lunch. It was accompanied by excellent miso soup with seaweed and a very good salad of spring mix with delicate miso-ginger dressing.

The floating sushi boats are an interesting way for sushi novices to see if they like it. There are some delicious dishes drifting around, but very often they are covered in honey sauce or a mango sauce. They're visually appealing and the sauce keeps rolls from drying out - but that extra sweetness obliterates the delicate taste of fresh fish. It's as if Disneyland had invented sushi.

It's fun to sit at the sushi bar with a friend and take guesses at what each morsel might be. Most of the food is tasty, and it can be a meal that doesn't break the bank if you order carefully. M. de Joie's one meal ordered off the menu was a delight. But with brightly-colored sauces and over-the-top tastes that resemble the subtle textures and flavors of raw fish about as much as Cheez Whiz resembles Stilton, this is not sushi for the purist. And unless you personally witness the chef slice and roll your sushi, it wasn't made to order. If you get there toward the end of a serving period, that lonely little plate could have been floating around and around for a while. It's tarted up to appeal to a wide audience.

Femme de Joie wouldn't complain if she was cajoled into eating at Yama Sushi, but there are more authentic sushi bars in town.

Yama Sushi, 40 Hartnell Avenue, Redding, CA 96002. Phone 530-223-6868, fax 530-223-6888. Cash & cards; no checks. Open daily 11:30 - 2:30 for lunch, 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM for dinner. Beer, wine, sake. Vegetarian and vegan options. Ample onsite parking. Website at www.yamasushi.net

Femme de Joie was cheered when she heard that Chef Jeff Cerasaro was slated to open up shop again in the old Fiesta Azteca spot on Park Marina Drive (long-time residents will remember that as the old Jolly King when The Knight's Inn first opened in the late 1960s; since then a series of restaurants has come and gone). Say what you will about Chef Jeff - and M. de Joie has heard a lot of opinions about the man himself - he knows how to cook.

After three visits to Tortuga, Femme de Joie can safely say without fear of contradiction that she has absolutely no idea who's in charge or what's going on in the kitchen; it just gets confuseder and confuseder.

On her first visit, M. de Joie arrived at 12:30 PM. There were 2 booths occupied. It took four minutes to connect with someone to seat her and another ten before her order was taken. The prices on the menu were reasonable but the menu seemed to be overextended in offerings. There were some standard coffee shop staples, plus some old Pio Loco standards like smoked salmon dressing and pork naranja; they served breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When M. de Joie ordered steak tacos, the waitress asked, “Do you want, uh, the beans and stuff?” At 1:00 the waitress came back with a report that it would just be a minute. Ten minutes later she came back and reported there had been a mix-up, something about an order of fish tacos being taken by “her girl” and they were making the steak tacos right now.



A few minutes later the food actually arrived with steak tacos, beans and stuff. The tacos had chunks of steak that were juicy and flavorful. The mango salsa was mostly mangoes with no other flavors. The beans were completely tasteless; the rice had a slight tartness that may have been from a tomatillo salsa. There was a pile of plain shredded white cabbage which seemed to have no purpose except to fill out that edge of the plate. A glass of sweetened iced tea was very sweet indeed.

On her second visit, M. de Joie was seated promptly. There were five full tables and a crowd at the bar, so this was an improvement. But the menu had been completely overhauled and it looked like all traces of Chef Jeff had been scrubbed away. It was a very ordinary diner menu - club sandwiches, burgers, salads, with nary a taco in sight.



Turkey burger with potato salad.

The turkey burger was cooked all the way through - appropriate when dealing with poultry - but the only seasoning was a pinch of salt, so the sandwich was very bland. The potatoes in the salad were a bit crisp; the dressing was undistinguished. Overall, the meal reminded M. de Joie of the diet one might get in the hospital when recovering from surgery.

There was yet another menu set before her when M. de Joie made her third visit, a combination of the first two: Diner delights meets quasi-Mexican.

>

A cup of creamy broccoli soup was really quite delicious, thin but creamy with a mild broccoli flavor. There was an odd little clump of semi-melted cheese bobbing on top.



The Tortuga Tortilla Special was a wrap with grilled chicken, asparagus, Cheddar cheese and pico de gallo, seved with black and white beans and grilled vegetables. This should have been wonderful but was a huge disappointment all the way around. On her first bite, M. de Joie noticed a weird bitter taste that turned out to be very old, tough stringy asparagus. Nothing could cover up that unpleasantness, not the chicken, the not-quite melted cheese, or the bland pico de gallo. The rest of the plate was no better - the black and white beans were cool-to-lukewarm and the grilled fresh vegetables (squash, carrots, yellow bell peppers), while perfectly cooked, sat in an enormous puddle of oil that rapidly seeped out toward the rest of the plate. Later that evening, Femme de Joie was still acutely aware of that virtually inedible lunch.

What's going on at Tortuga Bay Grill? It's a bright and pleasant space that could be home to a spiffy retro-lounge diner, but while the service has improved, the kitchen has lost its way and gotten into trouble. M. de Joie hopes that someone can step into the lead here and improve the food and execution.

edit: Tortuga Grill is now closed.

Tortuga Bay Grill, 1815 Park Marina Drive, Redding, CA, 229-0755. Open for breakfast (Saturday-Sunday only), lunch, and dinner. Beer and wine. Credit cards. On-site parking. Vegetarian and vegan options. Website at Tortuga Bay Grill.

That Peck's Bad Boy of the Travel Channel, Anthony Bourdain, recently commented in the New York Times that San Francisco is "a two-fisted drinking town, a carnivorous meat-eating town, it’s dirty and nasty and wonderful…" and Femme de Joie would pretty much agree on all counts. Never having lost her love of that deliciously wicked town and all its delights, she particularly craves the myriad restaurants of Baghdad-by-the-Bay and greedily anticipates the next eating adventure there.

Not long ago, M. de Joie and Amico del Signore decided to tread in a couple of Bourdain's footsteps to the House of Prime Rib, a bastion of unapologetic worship of beef and booze on Van Ness. A reservation was made by phone for a Saturday night at 9 p.m., and the House of Prime Rib returned a confirmation call two days before.

It was a lovely night in The City. M. de Joie and A. del Signore arrived on foot at the House of Prime Rib, bypassing the valet parking available. We were about 45 minutes early and said as much to the reservations clerk, who checked us in and directed us (naturally) to the lounge.

House of Prime Rib hasn't changed their decor since its inception: part faux-English Squire's manor, part private men's club, the enormous space is divided into manageable rooms with dim lighting and classic retro furnishings. We found a small table near the fireplace; the cocktail waitress arrived within three minutes. She was friendly but efficient and took our orders for two Bombay gin and tonics, extra lime ($8 each - a surprise bargain in pricey San Francisco considering we called the liquor).



Cute mini-carafes of generic bar snacks came with our cocktails. The g-and-t's were perfect, with lots of extra lime wedges on the side. As we waited in the lounge, we took note of the mix of clientele: an older couple seated in brocade armchairs who never looked at or spoke to each other; a large party from Italy who were meeting an American relative; frat boys boisterously boozing; two middle-aged men of eccentric but expensive means, negotiating a business deal; a younger couple on a date which he appeared to be ill-prepared to pay for.

After draining our drinks, we waited for our reservation to be called. It was Saturday night, after all, and quite busy even at 9 pm. Femme de Joie ordered another gin - what the hell, she wasn't driving - and the minutes ticked by. The crowd thinned. No one looked our way.

At 9:40, after sending up a couple of flares, Amico del Signore got the attention of the house manager and pointed out that we had a table booked for 9 p.m. and it was now leaning toward 10 pm. There was a flurry of activity: they were so sorry, it was an oversight, please just one moment, and then we were whisked into a dining room and seated at a rather small table. M. de Joie sat on the banquette, which wasn't bad, but A. del Signore was perched on a wooden chair that stuck out into the walkway the waiters used. This was not going to work. We flagged down a busboy and asked if we could have a nearby table that was more accommodating.

And then... we finally got waited on. The restaurant manager escorted us to a much nicer table where we could both sit at the banquette, overseeing the room. We were assigned an experienced waitress (making us wonder just who we might have gotten had we remained at the Tiny Table), and the manager handed us a menu of wines-by-the-glass, apologizing again for their oversight, inviting us to order any glass of wine on the house. It seemed churlish to go directly to the $16 Duckhorn or Frog's Leap, so we both ordered the 2007 Clos de Bois Merlot for $8, which was undistinguished. Note: if this should happen to you, don't be modest. Go for the expensive wine.

The House of Prime Rib serves two things: prime rib and fish. Nearby was a table full of Japanese tourists who had all ordered the fish (making us wonder why they'd bother visiting this restaurant when there are so many fine fish restaurants in SF); each one had a large plate with a perfect but lonely salmon fillet in the center. We went for the prime rib: one Henry VIII cut and one English cut.



First came the salad, which is apparently famous for the dressing that takes three weeks to make, and which, we were assured, some people come to the restaurant specifically for. It was quite a production, the Making Of The Salad, whomping the salad bowl to make it spin on a bed of ice, pouring the dressing from on high to anoint the salad greens and beets like holy oil, finally presenting the spun-poured-anointed plates of salad with a chilled fork with which to transfer lettuce from the plate into one's mouth. Femme de Joie would like to say here that the Presentation Of The Chilled Fork is a ritual she finds exceedingly pretentious, if not downright silly, but it seems to be catnip to a certain genre of diners.



The Salad.

Well, it's a salad, isn't it? Despite the glam production, it tasted very much like a salad covered in bottled Seven Seas Russian dressing. That's not to say it was bad; it wasn't. But neither was it all that fabulous, either. It was lettuce and canned beets covered in a sweet red sauce.



Hardly had we finished our lettuce parfaits when the plates were whisked away and a triangular apparatus was set before us, containing three strengths of horseradish. We'd barely had time to slice some sourdough bread before our plates of prime rib were plopped in front of us.



They looked about the same except that Amico del Signore's more expensive Henry VIII cut contained the rib bone, which the waitress told us was good luck or a propitious augury or something like that. It may be, but it also is inedible and when you're paying by the weight for prime rib, it's a bit of a rip-off as well. Standard accompaniments are mashed potatoes and gravy (which were both good, albeit salty), Yorkshire pudding (used here to absorb the gravy, rendering it pretty soggy), creamed spinach (which is one of Femme de Joie's very favorite foods but here was on the dry side and salty), and creamed corn (the best of all the sides, nicely sweet and creamy with a little crunch to the kernels).

The prime rib itself was perfect: cooked as requested and meltingly tender with the mineral taste of aged meat. The horseradish was exactly as described: "mild, medium, and watch out," and we both piled on the Watch Out. We cleaned our plates. We had understood that when the larger cuts are ordered, that free seconds are offered, but this did not happen. Here's your hat, what's your hurry? The plates were removed, the horseradish tree disappeared along with the barely-touched sourdough loaf before we realized what had happened, and suddenly dessert menus were proffered. All the desserts were old-school: peach Melba, bread pudding, strawberry shortcake - classics all, but we'd barely had time to consider the dinner we'd just had, never mind sweets. We skipped dessert.

It was barely a minute later that our bill arrived: $119. We were aware of the prices when the reservation was made so it wasn't a shocking total, but when we considered all that had transpired, the disappointing quality of some of the dishes, and the rush to get us served and out the door, it seemed very high. By 10:30 p.m. we were outside on Van Ness again, slightly dazed and wondering if things would have been different had Anthony Bourdain been with us.

House of Prime Rib, 1906 Van Ness Avenue (between Washington and Jackson), San Francisco, California. 415-885-4605. Valet parking available, but MUNI lines 1, 10, 12, 17, 19, 47, 49, and 76 all run within a few blocks. Full bar. Open for dinner nightly. Reservations essential; call restaurant or book at OpenTable.com. Vegetarians and vegans: nothing to see here. Website at houseofprimerib.net.

Even if a restaurant claims “you're family,” you're a customer, and they are in business to make a profit. Restaurants are good at separating you from your money: it's their raison de etre. A severe case of sticker shock upon presentation of the bill can cause a lingering sour aftertaste. The most obvious tip for saving money on dining out would be don't. There's no question that dining out is a luxury compared to cooking meals at home. But there are special occasions – and a few not-so-special – when a restaurant meal is in order. In order to dine well but not go broke, the customer needs to read the menu carefully and communicate with waitstaff.

Note: this is not about trying to score freebies, cheat the restaurant or waitstaff, or occupy a table for hours while eating multiple baskets of bread. And those places that offer free peanuts or all the French fries you can eat? They aren't really free. You're still paying for them.

As soon as you sit down, waitstaff asks what you would like to drink. Keep in mind beverages make up 30% of a restaurant's profits; most of the time you are not immediately offered a drink menu to check prices. What you may think is a $1.50 soft drink is more likely a $2.50 soft drink. If a family of four goes to a casual Mexican restaurant and everyone orders a drink, that's $10.00 – more than the price of many entrees. Even if they offer unlimited refills that's a large chunk of change. Consider asking for the menu to check prices before automatically ordering a beverage.

Any time you “call” a cocktail (specify the brand of liquor), the price goes up. If you have to have a Top Shelf Margarita, have at it – but it will cost noticeably more than a “well” drink (made from the lower-priced house brands). Ask if there's a special cocktail offered which may be a good value.

Ordering by the glass is the most expensive way to enjoy wine at a restaurant. Virtually every restaurant has a house wine that is cheapest; often it can be ordered by the carafe, liter, or half-liter. Another option is to bring your own bottle. Not every restaurant offers “corkage” (a charge for opening and serving the wine you bring), but many do; call first to see if it's allowable. Corkage usually is at least $10.00 and upwards - after all, you're using the restaurant's glasses and service – but it's a much less expensive choice than buying wine from a wine list.

Restaurant menus are designed to feature the most profitable items. That doesn't mean they are the most expensive items, but waitstaff may be told to promote them to increase the bottom line. Check out this report from MoneyWatch on how to “read” a menu.

When waitstaff recites the specials, they don't always give the price, and that can cause an unpleasant surprise on the bill. Just because it's special doesn't mean it's inexpensive. Always ask the price, the portion size, and what accompanies it. Rarely – but often enough – waitstaff will take your order and then ask, “Did you want a salad with that?” or “What kind of dressing on your salad?” or “Do you want shrimp on top?” What they didn't tell you was that salad/shrimp is extra and not included in the price of the meal; the sentence is phrased so that you believe it is. This is, to M. de Joie's mind, deceptive: again, ask, “Is that included?”

Dinner restaurants tend to open about 5:00 PM but really get busy at 7:00 PM. Check to see if Early Bird specials or Happy Hour specials are available – they can be enough of a bargain to move dinner time up an hour. And it's not just Denny's – Nello's Restaurant offers a complete dinner before 6:30 PM that is a good value.

Not everyone has a large appetite, but some restaurants offer only jumbo portions. Consider asking for a split plate – sometimes this is free but usually there is a charge (around $5.00) for two people to share one meal. If that isn't an option, take the leftovers home. Or ask if you can order from the child's or senior's menu.

Generally speaking, Asian, Mexican, and other “ethnic” restaurants offer less expensive dining options than all-American steakhouses.

Consider having a celebration lunch instead of dinner, when prices are nearly always cheaper.

Check the website or Facebook page of your favorite restaurant for special offers or coupons. There are websites like Restaurant.com which offer restaurant coupons (though there are no participating businesses in this area).

Finally, M. de Joie encourages diners to patronize locally-owned restaurants. The money stays local and you're keeping small businesses going. Big Behemoth Restaurant Chain will continue to churn out corporate-designed meals without you; not so for Little Frank's Spaghetti House. Without local folks to support him, the little guy will surely fail – so consider dining local.

On a hot July day Femme de Joie and Amice del Signore took Highway 99 toward Chico, blithely ignoring the "expect 20 minute delays" signs. After what seemed like two weeks in a hot oven, they popped up in Los Molinos - irritable, sweaty, and hungry. It was 1:00 pm and Chico was still at least an hour away; realizing that Celestino's Pizza for lunch wasn't an option anytime soon, they decided to take a chance on the offerings available.

Los Molinos has never been known for being a hotbed of nouvelle cuisine, or any kind of cuisine for that matter, but they were willing to down a gut bomb to fuel the rest of the trip. A bright red building with a sign out front advertising barbecue seemed the most likely prospect, and indeed the smell of wood smoked beef drew them into Roxie's Deli & BBQ. There were the usual deli sandwiches offered, but the counterman recommended the special tri-tip sandwich. He knew what he was talking about.



Roxie's Tri Tip Sandwich ($6.99)

Roxie's owner made our sandwiches – loads of smoked thin-sliced tri-tip on large Dutch crunch rolls, piled with our choice of condiments - $6.99 for a sandwich made in heaven. The outer edges of the beef were crisp, near-burnt lacy shards of barbecue goodness, smoke flavor permeating the entire piece of beef. True barbecue taste shone through the sauce and condiments. Good God, how fine those sandwiches were. We still dream about them.

We spoke with the owner a bit. His ambition is to open a 50-seat restaurant in Redding. We assured him with this kind of food, he'd have no problem packing in the customers.

On the return to Redding, Femme de Joie still hungered for barbecue, so she gave Fatboy's a try, first checking out the location next to Need to Speed. It's an industrial interior with red walls, a black-and-white checked floor, and the door open to the racetrack. On a weekday at noon, Femme de Joie pretty much had the place all to herself, which was a distressing sign. She ordered pulled pork – a Fatboy bun, served on a Kaiser roll, $6.49, as well as a trip through the salad bar ($2.00).



Fatboy's Salad Bar ($2.00)

The salad bar was bagged spring mix that wasn't quite fresh. Most of the toppings -beets, carrots, beans - were from water-pack cans or pre-shredded. Dressings were industrially-produced including a viscous glue-thick honey-raspberry. The Italian dressing was the least scary; it was watery and flavorless.



Fatboy's Pulled Pork ($6.49)

Unfortunately, the salad bar was not the low point. The pulled pork had been pot-roasted with no seasoning or flavoring except perhaps a minute pinch of salt. It simply had no taste at all and was on the dry side. It was like eating damp drywall on a Kaiser roll. Barbecue sauce was brought to the table in a squeeze bottle, but it only gave the drywall a sweet fake-hickory taste. After eating half the sandwich, M. de Joie had to make a decision. She surely did not want to eat any more and she knew Amico del Signore wasn't going to like that sandwich any more than she did. Neither of them has a dog that would be happy to eat it. The other half of the sandwich went in the trash.

But how could this be? The location on Twin View was successful enough to open this satellite shop. Maybe, she thought, the tri-tip will be better.



Fatboy's Tri Tip Sandwich (Market Street)

So on her next visit, Femme de Joie ordered the tri-tip bun. She was offered choice of toppings - lettuce tomato, pickles, onions, cheese (80 cents)- why was this option not offered for the pulled pork? The tri-tip was cooked medium by some method - steaming, perhaps? - that added no taste. Sliced very thinly, there was about 2 or 3 ounces on the bun plus toppings. It was better than the pork but not any better than a deli roast beef sandwich. A side of potato salad, made with red-skinned new potatoes, was house-made and adequate but nothing really stood out about it.

Well, M. de Joie thought, maybe it's the location. She made a trek up to the Fatboy's on Twin View Boulevard, the old Midway Inn. Walk in, order at the counter, they give you a number; take a seat and they'll bring out your food. There is a salad bar but also an extensive condiments bar with all kinds of spreads and garnishes.



Fatboy's Tri-Tip Sandwich (Twin View)

Once more she gave the tri-tip bun a try to see if it was any better - asking first if it was barbecued there and receiving an affirmative answer. It was modestly more smoky, but the medium-rareness indicated it was not barbecued for very long. Topped off with sauces and condiments it was tasty but not really outstanding and not worthy of the name barbecue. Crunchy coleslaw with tart vinegary dressing, however, was really quite good.



Fatboy's Chicken Pesto Sandwich

On her final visit to the Twin View Fatboy's, Femme de Joie ordered the chicken pesto sandwich with a side of house-made baked beans. A Dutch crunch roll was filled with sliced grilled chicken breast, then slathered with pesto. To be fair, Femme de Joie finds chicken breasts to be the least tasty part of the bird: bland, dry, usually overcooked. In fuller fairness, though, this chicken was dry, bland, and overcooked. Adding some sauce and condiments helped, but not a lot.The second half of this sandwich was discarded like the pulled pork. A brown-sugary sauce made the baked beans stand out.

Apparently Fatboy's fans see something in the food that Femme de Joie does not. You do get an appropriate amount of food for the money, service is friendly and fast, and the restaurants are clean. But the next time you get a craving for barbecue, head down Highway 99 to Los Molinos for Roxie's special of the day.

NOTE: Since this was published in A News Cafe, the downtown location of Fatboy's has closed.

Roxie's Deli & BBQ, 7810 Highway 99, Los Molinos, CA 96055. 530-384-1455. Open every day. Cards, no checks. Limited parking in front or around on the side.

Fatboy's Rotisserie and Sandwiches, 829 Twin View Boulevard, Redding, CA 530-244-7754, also 1501 Market Street (in the Promenade), 530-247-1676. Twin View open daily for lunch and dinner; Market Street open for lunch. Cards, no checks. Twin View location has a parking lot; Market location has Mall parking. www.fatboysredding.com

Of necessity, sushi restaurants are usually quite small, little more than a mini-van’s worth of seats. It takes time to turn out sushi and it does not lend itself to sitting around like McWhoppers, so the number of diners allowed in has to be limited. And this is not a food that can be turned over to summer job seekers: sushi chefs in Japan train for years before they ever lay knife to fish, though in America a 12-week course suffices.

There are numerous restaurants around town that attempt to combine several Asian cuisines with varying degrees of success. Now and then Femme de Joie has picked up a comely slice from a sushi roll to discover that what she is tasting is less like a delicate scallop roll than it is more like Nigiri Fish Bait.

A big reason for Tokyo Garden Japanese Restaurant's continued success is sticking to Japanese cuisine. The kitchen is focused and not so spread out with Cajun teriyaki or soba marinara that the purity and essence becomes dilute.



Tako salad, $5.95

Tako salad ($5.95) is a great way to find out if you like octopus. If you didn’t know, you might think this was bits of sweet, chewy squid. Tokyo Garden’s version makes a terrific appetizer with loads of piquant ginger and strips of seaweed. If you’re unsure, share this with a friend, but this little salad is enticing enough to keep to yourself.



Seafood noodle soup ($11.95 made with soba, $1 extra for udon noodles)

Femme de Joie had this on a blustery cold afternoon and it was just the ticket - a savory-sweet broth filled with soba noodles and a surfeit of scallops, fish, vegetables, and shrimp. Though the fish was overcooked, the rest was perfect and tender. The serving was much larger than the photo indicates and it isn’t a speedy meal to eat - you want to take your time to enjoy every bite, or you’ll wind up with a splattered shirt front.



Bento box lunch special #5 ($7.95) with beef teriyaki, assorted tempura, California roll, salad, and rice

Assorted tempura included fresh mushrooms, asparagus, and shrimp in a fragile-crisp non-greasy batter. Creamy avocado dominated the taste in the California roll - the “crab” taste was lost. Though the steak was tender and had good beefy flavor, the teriyaki sauce had a weird glutinous mouthfeel and a slightly off taste.



Spicy tuna roll, mackerel roll (saba), Crazy Monkey Roll

After Femme de Joie had spent a few months trying sushi at different restaurants around town and being disappointed, Tokyo Garden really delivered. The fresh clean taste of tuna came through. Fresh beads of masago (smelt fish roe) that popped in the mouth accented the rice and spicy sauce gave it a kick. Oily mackerel can either be overpoweringly fishy or bland, depending on how it was cured, but this version had a pleasant taste of the sea and texture. Crazy Monkey roll (snow crab, imitation crab, avocado, cucumber, topped with unagi (freshwater eel), masago, and special sauce) was almost as delightful to eat as it was to order: none of the tastes dominated or concealed the others. Each bite had a slight cucumber crunch that then melted into the softer crab and avocado.

If you’re not of a mind to wait for a seat at one of the sushi bars around Redding or you aren’t quite sure about whether you like sushi, Tokyo Gardens offers a more Americanized option. There are menu choices that will appeal to the fishphobic and more adventurous palates alike. Though fresh fish of a quality for sashimi and sushi is not cheap (do you really want to eat day-old discount salmon?), lunch specials start at $5.95, so there’s a little something for everyone here.

Tokyo Garden Japanese Restaurant, 1675 Hilltop Drive, Suite M, Redding CA 96002. Phone 530-221-6888, fax 530-221-5168. Open 7 days a week from 11 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. Lunch served from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Cash, cards, no checks. Beer, wine, sake. Sushi bar. Loads of parking. Vegetarian and vegan options. Website at reddingtokyogarden.com.

Femme de Joie isn’t sure if the Redding Old Millhouse Deli was ever really an Old Mill. She does recall in the late 1970s when she’d drive by on her way to Brandy Creek, Barry White’s Love Unlimited Orchestra playing on the 8-track, and seeing the mystifying Shufflin’ Beaver sign out front. There were whispers about what kind of a place that was and being a hopelessly naïve young gal, M. de Joie never darkened that door, which she now deeply regrets.

Since those days, Old Millhouse Deli has become more decorous, if not quite mainstream. Situated barely half a mile west of Buenaventura on Eureka Way, it decidedly feels more Old Shasta than Redding. The interior is rustic wood with oddments of gourds, 20s-style wall paintings, and hackamores hanging on the walls. The spacious back room has a panoramic view and there's a pleasant patio for dining outside and large lawn available for parties, weddings, etc. Occasionally there's live music, as evidenced by the instruments set up.

Old Millhouse's menu is casual, mainly sandwiches and salads, with an occasional special like lasagna thrown in. Most of the food is good but sometimes the portions aren’t in keeping with the price.



Cream of broccoli soup and macaroni salad, $3.75 each

Side dishes are generous - for $3.75, they should be - and freshly prepared. The cream of broccoli soup was smoothly wonderful with good broccoli flavor in a light creamy base, topped with a sprinkle of shredded cheddar and Monterey jack cheese. Macaroni salad would have been delicious if it had been made with real mayonnaise instead of Miracle Whip (M. de Joie is aware many people love Miracle Whip but she is not one of them).



Laurie's deluxe french dip, $9.25

Laurie's Deluxe, $9.25, a French dip with cheddar, jack, red onions, and chopped Ortega chiles on an onion roll. The sandwich was hot and freshly made with tasty ingredients, but onion rolls being the size they are, there wasn’t a lot of it.



Old Millhouse Deli double deluxe spinach salad, $9.25

Double Deluxe Spinach Salad, $9.25, was topped with avocados, crumbled blue cheese, tomatoes, bacon bits, hard-cooked egg, cheese, tomatoes, and croutons on a thin bed of fresh spinach, vinaigrette on the side. Again, what was there was fresh and tasty and attractively composed, but it really wasn’t a full meal salad.



Sides of potato salad and clam chowder, $3.75 each

Sides of potato salad and clam chowder, $3.75 each. These were very good - the hot chowder was comforting on a cold rainy day. Potato salad, accented with bits of celery and pickle and made with mayonnaise, was a good accompaniment to a sandwich.



Triple-decker club, $9.25 with soup or salad

A triple-decker club was good value for money - plenty of turkey, avocados and tomatoes on toasted wheat, with a choice of soup or salad for $9.25.



Old Mill Deli lasagna, $9.75 with soup or salad

Lasagna was a lunch special for $9.75, including soup or salad. It looked and smelled good was but disappointingly bland, with squashy overcooked noodles and not much flavor from the cheese and meat filling.

On the one hand, Femme de Joie loves the atmosphere at Old Mill Deli. On a cold rainy day it was warm and inviting inside, where a customer could sit in the back by the windows and listen to the rain, almost feeling like she was in a cabin at the coast. During good weather, it’s very pleasant to sit at a table in the garden and enjoy the shade of Japanese maples. There’s a good beer and wine selection, and it would be most enjoyable to sit with friends and have a drink or two in this relaxing café. Service is friendly and quick. On the other hand, some of the prices are a bit high for the portions served, and some of the food could be better.

Still, this is a unique local place and worth the short drive to have lunch. It really isn’t far from downtown Redding and you could find yourself calling back to work - “Yeah, got a flat tire. I’ll be back at the office in an hour … or two.”

Old Millhouse Deli, 4478 Eureka Way, Redding, CA 96001. 530-241-9011. Open Monday-Friday 10:30 am - 2:30 p.m. for lunch, 5 p.m. - 9 p.m. Friday and Saturday nights for homemade pizza. Beer and wine. Vegetarian and vegan options. On-site parking. Cash and checks only, NO CARDS.

It took Femme de Joie a long time to catch on to Burrito Bandito. For one thing, she didn’t have much reason to go out to Airport Road in Redding, where they started at the original location. For another, she didn’t really relish the thought of driving all the way out there to be caught in the lunch rush at a place that catered only to the folks who worked out there and didn’t have any choice: how good could it be? Then circumstances caused her to be out on Airport Road one day with a group of people who already knew about Burrito Bandito.

When they walked in, M. de Joie winced at the long lines and figured they might all be there until dinnertime, but such was not the case. Those guys behind the counter were friendly but speedy, and in a very few minutes the line was hacked down to size. M. de Joie entertained herself during the brief wait by reading the hot sauce bottles on display – how can you not love a bottle of Jump Up and Kiss Me, Hula Girl, or Scorned Woman?

M. de Joie was very pleasantly surprised at how much food was dished up for a modest price, and delighted at how great the burrito tasted, made to her specifications and packed full of fresh toppings. She was even more pleased when a few years after that initial lunch, Burrito Bandito opened a branch in the Holiday Market Shopping Center at Placer and Buenaventura – much closer to downtown than Airport Road (since joined by branches in Anderson and Red Bluff). The Holiday location is small inside, with a few tables and counter seating along the window; on nice days you can take your order outside to a table on the sidewalk.



Chile verde burrito, $7.25

Burritos are, of course, their signature dish, and they’re the most bang for your buck. Choose from machaca (shredded beef), carne asada, chile verde, chicken, or vegetarian/vegan beans, have the counterman add toppings to taste, grab a cold drink from the cooler and some salsa, and have a seat. Good luck trying to eat this with the plastic fork they give you.



One pork taco and one chicken taco, $3.25 each

For smaller appetites, the tacos are a good bet: same drill as the burrito (choose meat or beans and then tell the friendly counterman exactly what you want to top it with). Warning: these get soggy and fall apart if you don’t eat them promptly, and Femme de Joie has the salsa drippings down her blouse to prove it.



Vegetarian bowl, $7.25

A nice change from tacos, burritos, and quesadillas is the bowl: a salad made with your choice of meat or beans with loads of toppings. Though M. de Joie loves her a good burrito, she likes the bowls the best out of all the offerings at Burrito Bandito.

If Femme de Joie has any complaints, it’s that after a while everything from Burrito Bandito starts to taste the same, which is probably because she’s a “Put everything on it” gal, and everything is always the same. To avoid getting bored, now and then she’ll skip the onions or the rice and ask for extra cilantro and lime, or some other variation.

M. de Joie likes the value for money, fresh ingredients, fast & friendly service, and tasty burritos, all served up by a local business. To be sure, Burrito Bandito is fast food, but there’s not a Golden Arch in sight here. It's not authentic Mexican either; it’s more of a California twist on healthy Mex with a little fast-food-to-go thrown in. If you haven’t stopped by already, give them a try.

Burrito Bandito, 8939 Airport Road, Redding, 222-6240, fax 222-6639; 3365 Placer Street in the Holiday Shopping Center, 229-9068, fax 229-9079; 2805 E. Center Street, Anderson, 378-1400, fax 378-1500; 525 Adobe Road, Red Bluff, 528-8226, fax 527-6074. Cash, cards; no checks. Call for opening times (may vary between locations). Vegetarian and vegan choices. Website and fax order form at juanmeanburrito.com