menuplease

Until very recently, Femme de Joie’s only visit to 970 Hartnell was about seven years ago when a vintage furniture store was there; she and Amico del Signore picked out a leather couch which went from “this great oxblood sofa” to “that Godawful purple couch” in just a few short years. The sofa found a new home about the same time Kanya Market replaced the furniture store.

Femme de Joie had originally planned to write about another Asian restaurant (which shall go nameless); unfortunately, the beef pho she ordered turned out to be Ptomaine Pho. After a dreadful night on the bathroom floor, she elected to not make a second visit to that establishment. But then Amico del Signore discovered that Kanya Market not only sells Asian groceries but also has a small cafe and persuaded her that this might be worth checking out. And so it was. In addition to a wide variety of the usual items – soy and fish sauces, sesame oil, canned lychees, curry powder, teas (including “Sliming Tea” and no, that is not a typo), gigantic bags of rice – Kanya also carries some fresh greens, fresh noodles, and the delightfully-named Snake Brand Prickly Heat and Baby Face with Aha.

Due to the dark window tint film, it’s impossible to see inside; instead, look for the neon “open” sign on the front. When you walk in, you are entering the grocery side of Kanya. Walk straight ahead toward the cash register, then turn right into the restaurant. You can order to-go at the counter, pick up some already prepared food from the refrigerators or the racks nearby, or sit down at one of the snappy black and white tables to dine in. Each table is stocked with a roll of paper towels, a stack of deep bowl spoons, and containers of forks and chop sticks. Service is friendly and helpful.

Bahn mi, $3.00

Bahn mi – Vietnamese sandwiches – are available on the to-go rack to the right of the cash register. They include pork, “meatloaf” (more like pâté), pickled daikon and carrots, and cilantro on a sliced, mayonnaise-spread French roll. It wasn’t bad but it would have been fabulous if it hadn’t been so flabby in texture; more crunchy vegetables and a crustier roll would make it sing.

Mango drink out of the refrigerator, $1.25. Not quite as mango-y as the name suggests, but a very good foil for the spicy food to come.

Fresh spring rolls, $5.50

M. de Joie was surprised at the generous serving of spring rolls – there was surely enough to share. Accompanied by tiny cups of sweetish peanut sauce and bottled Thai sweet chili sauce, the rolls were like small portable salads. Filled with lettuce, rice noodles, cilantro, and shrimp, these were wonderfully refreshing and crisp.

Papaya salad Lao style, $5.00

Most shoppers have seen the giant overripe papayas in supermarkets here; their musky scent and perfumy taste is loved by some and reviled by others. But in places where it grows freely, green papaya is treated like a vegetable and made into salads. Kanya’s papaya salad is offered in Thai style or Lao. Both use fish sauce in the dressing but the Lao version uses fermented fish sauce (padaek) which has a more pungent aroma and taste. Green papaya was shredded and tossed with peanuts, tomatoes, green onions, and the padaek-infused dressing, served with a wedge of raw cabbage and plain rice noodles.

Femme de Joie ordered the salad with “medium” heat but either she was misunderstood or Kanya has a wicked idea of what medium heat is. It was fiery. She does enjoy hot food, but this was a challenge. The raw cabbage and noodles helped tame it, as did that mango drink. Still, she’s unsure if she actually liked the salad or not, since she was mostly concerned with not spontaneously combusting.

Yellow curry with pork, $8.00

This smooth curry with potatoes, onions, carrots, and cubed pork also carried its own measure of heat, though not as pervasive as the papaya salad. The creamy texture and warm spiced sauce were delicious eaten as a soup or poured over steamed rice. This would be excellent comfort food on a cold day.

Yum Nam, $6.00

If there was a Thai version of a chef’s salad, this would be it. It contains sour pork, AKA naem, a fermented Thai sausage, which explains the somewhat earthy smell of the dish.. Mixed with “meat loaf” (again, strips of pâté), celery, cilantro, green and red onion, and roasted rice seasoning powder, peanuts on the side, this was wonderfully crunchy with soft porky bites, hot and sour – one of the most interesting and exciting dishes M. de Joie has come across in recent memory.

Khao Soy, $5.00 for small bowl

This might be the Thai version of grandma’s chicken soup – broth filled with Ho-fun noodles (made from rice and looking like a wide egg noodle), a very generous amount of white meat chicken, bean sprouts, shards of cabbage, and fermented bean and ground pork. It might remind you slightly of pho but has its own savory taste and textures in a rich chicken-y broth.

M. de Joie likes Kanya very much. The portions for the price are excellent value, service is fairly fast and friendly, and the cooking is usually spot-on and high quality. She also enjoys prowling around in the market, picking up various jars and bottles of condiments to try out, and suggests that if you stop in to have lunch, that you also look through the grocery and maybe pick up some chile-garlic sauce (which Amico del Signore and Femme de Joie love more than Sriracha) or some pork buns to go. It won’t cost much and it’s a good introduction to Thai cuisine.

Kanya Market and Thai Video, 970 Hartnell Avenue at Churn Creek Road (across from the fire hall), Redding, CA 96002. 530-222-7609. Open daily, 10:00 AM to 8:00 PM. Cards and cash; no checks. No alcohol. Vegan and vegetarian options. Parking lot.

What defines barbecue? And what is the difference between barbecue and grilling? Though the terms are frequently used interchangeably and the results (usually) delectable, they mean very different procedures and end results. As Chris Schlesinger explains in his 1990 book The Thrill of the Grill, grilling is placing food near a heat source and cooking by conduction, searing the exterior and concentrating juices on the interior while browning the outside (the Maillard effect). Barbecuing, on the other hand, means placing a large quantity of food (usually meat) within a pit or other closed chamber and letting it cook very slowly by indirect heat and smoke from a hardwood fire.

Grilling is fun, fast, and convenient. Barbecuing is not fast, easy, or cheap, but it is an obsession. Barbecue masters – nearly all men – might not sneer at a grilled steaks, but they won’t give you quarter if you try to usurp their title and skill. Writer Calvin Trillin noted that Henry Perry, who began the business that evolved into the legendary Arthur Bryant’s Barbecue in Kansas City, enjoyed seeing customers suffer when they sampled his incendiary sauce. Trillin explained that a man who spent all night tending a hardwood fire could be excused for developing some dark and malevolent tendencies. (Arthur Bryant himself later tamed the sauce down since he appreciated the sight of a returning customer more than a screaming customer.)

All this to say: most barbecue is not barbecue. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t taste good, or isn’t fun to share with all the family and college buddies, but don’t confuse it with the real deal. If in doubt, New Orleans-based food writer/barbecue cookbook author Colleen Rush helpfully compiled a list of 7 Foolproof Ways to Spot a Fake BBQ Joint.

For a couple of years, barbecue restaurants popped up all over the greater Redding area – Palo Cedro, Cypress Avenue, Shasta Lake – and one by one they disappeared into the gloaming. Fat Daddy’s Gourmet BBQ is one of, if not the, longest running barbecue restaurants in Redding. Located in an old A&W Stand (who else remembers those frosty mugs of root beer with the ice shards that slid into the drink?), Fat Daddy’s has been serving for over ten years and seems to still be going strong. Inside are easy-clean Formica tables and easy-mop flooring, with dollar bills tacked to the ceiling. Order at the counter and they’ll call your name when your food is ready. There’s a small condiment table stocked with extra sauce, pickles, and small semi-hot pickled peppers.

Tri-tip sandwich with macaroni salad, $8.25

Tri-tip is a notoriously tough but flavorful cut of meat that is popular with barbecue enthusiasts. It’s been Femme de Joie’s experience that barbecued tri-tip is nearly always dried out and exceedingly chewy, not unlike chewing on a baseball mitt or a pit bull’s tail. Since this tri-tip had never seen a barbecue, it didn’t suffer from toughness, though it was a bit fibrous. The meat itself was on the bland unseasoned side, but was slathered with copious amounts of barbecue sauce, as is all the meat served at Fat Daddy’s. The sauce was not as sweet as some commercial sauces, which Femme de Joie appreciates, and owed some of its flavor to molasses (as opposed to tomato and/or ketchup). The sandwiches came on rolls that were a bit better than the average roll and did not fall apart into a soggy mess. To be sure it was a generous serving and fair for the price. Macaroni salad was a deli standard with little to distinguish it.

Pulled beef sandwich with potato salad, $8.25

A variation on pulled pork, shredded beef was doused heavily with barbecue sauce. The meat itself was more tender than the tri-tip – not too surprising – and maybe more flavorful, though it was hard to tell since all Femme de Joie could really taste was the sauce. Potato salad on the side seemed to have come from the same place as the macaroni salad: nothing bad about it but neither was there anything special.

Chicken meal with cole slaw and Caesar salad, $10.25

Femme de Joie could not fault the tenderness and moistness of the chicken. Three pieces (a leg and two thighs) were fall-apart tender and juicy, but again, these were not cooked on a barbecue or a grill since the skin was flabby without any crust, and again, absolutely soaked in sauce. Caesar salad (Caesar salad at a BBQ place?) was deliciously crunchy and tart. Cole slaw was fresh and likewise crunchy. Both salads were big improvements over the very average potato and macaroni salads.

Obviously Fat Daddy’s knows their target audience since they’ve been in business eleven years (an eternity in the restaurant industry and especially in Redding). Portions are fair for the money and customers seem to love the barbecue sauce (for sale on site). It isn’t real barbecue, but then they don’t claim to be (despite the giant portable grill chained outside). Femme de Joie doesn’t crave sweet goopy barbecue sauces much – a little goes a very long way in her estimation – so while she wouldn’t make a special trip to Four Corners for Fat Daddy’s, if she wound up dining there she wouldn’t kick too much. But she would definitely ask for sauce on the side.

Fat Daddy’s Gourmet BBQ, 942 Hartnell Avenue, Redding CA 96002. 530-221-8270. Open Monday through Friday, 11:00 AM to 8:00 PM. Closed weekends. No checks. Parking lot. Not much for vegetarians to see here except salad. Website at http://www.fatdaddysredding.com/
or follow them on Facebook.

Some strip malls, no matter how well located, seem to have problems keeping long-term tenants. Today there's a parakeet groomer, tomorrow there's a spatula sharpener in their old spot. Despite plenty of cars in the parking lot, few of those little storefronts stay long. The strip mall on Eureka Way, once anchored by Safeway and now by Ace Hardware, has been one of those places where someone's hopes and dreams for a successful little business bloom and then fade and disappear.

But The Best Little Sandwich Shop has been sitting pretty for well over a year in that little shopping center. When Femme de Joie first saw the marquee change, she figured it was just another little enterprise she shouldn't get attached to because it would be gone soon. After all, it's a recession, and who is foolish enough to start a sandwich shop when times are hard? Who's going to buy sandwiches when you can make them at home?

As it turned out, plenty of people are buying at TBLSS. They offer up something different from the standard deli sandwich and far more options than the mega-Hoagie-chain. Though there's no hiding the young hipster vibe of the staff and many customers, M. de Joie has seen numerous non-hip customers waiting for their sandwiches too. It doesn't matter if you're for the waltz or for Lady Gaga; TBLSS has something for everyone.

TBLSS is very small: in the entrance are a couple of small tables (on a winter day, you're likely to get frequent icy drafts from the doors opening constantly). There's a small counter with a few barstools inside, but it really isn't a place to stay to eat. Best to get your food to go.

Rainer's Reuben ($9.00, including a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and tax) was the most elaborate Reuben sandwich Femme de Joie has ever come across. In addition to the pastrami (what, no corned beef?), sauerkraut, Swiss cheese and 1000 Island dressing on rye, "everything" included lettuce, tomato, onion, pepperoncini, avocado, and their "Silly Sauce" (a blend of mustard, mayonnaise, and a couple of secret ingredients). Although this wasn't a Reuben for purists, it was incredibly delicious with multi-layered flavors and textures. The rye bread, however, didn't have the strength to hold everything together and eventually collapsed into a soggy heap.

Military Pride was served as a submarine on a roll - a good idea, since ordinary bread could never have stuck together as long as the roll did under the onslaught of juicy fillings. Meatballs, marinara sauce, Jalapenos (which got lost amid all the other ingredients) and jack cheese combined to make one of the messiest sandwiches ever created. If there's a criticism, it's that the basic meatballs, sauce, etc. were competing with the lettuce & co. for attention. This might be better served as is, without the usual sandwich toppings.

Macaroni salad on the side was nothing special to write home about - while the macaroni was not overcooked, the dressing was one-note sweet with only a few random dice of red bell pepper to give it any character.

Miss Mercy, a vegetarian combination with sprouts plus cheese, instantly took M. de Joie back to her college days, when students believed that you could easily live on ramen, doughnuts, and chips, as long as now and then you had an avocado sandwich with sprouts - you know, for balance. This was a taste of the 1970s that may have gotten lost for a while when foodies got obsessed with artisinal cheeses and home-cured meat on kamut & farro bread. If you think this sandwich looks messy now, it's nothing compared to how it looked after a few bites. Femme de Joie loved it and would definitely go back for another one.

Alongside was a cup of butternut squash soup, a thick, smooth puree accented with curry flavors - a sophisticated flavor you wouldn't expect to find in a small sandwich shop. The cole slaw was one of the better ones M. de Joie has found around town - the cabbage was still crisp and the dressing didn't puddle down in the bottom of the cup.

The Best Little Sandwich Shop is one of Femme de Joie's favorite very small businesses around town. They're filling in a couple of culinary thin spots in Redding by offering not only gluten-free breads but a vegan menu including vegan turkey and soy cheese. That may not be important to most people, but local celiac sufferers and vegans can attest it's very difficult to find that kind of food available in restaurants. Their regular menu has something for any taste - if you don't see what you like, they'll make a special sandwich for you. They'll text your bill to your cell phone (which is something M. de Joie has never seen). And they often have specials such as any sandwich for 50% off.

There is, however, one drawback. TBLSS is SLOW. They do encourage customers to call or fax in their orders ahead, especially during lunch, but it's M. de Joie's experience that they are slow even when business is slow. Each sandwich is made to order, and it appears that each sandwich-maker is making several sandwiches at once, which may account for the delay. So if you're in a hurry, take this into consideration - call or fax in your order ahead. WAY ahead.

The Best Little Sandwich Shop, 2255 Eureka Way (between Magnolia and Orange), Redding, CA 96001. Phone 530-227-6590; fax 1-888-382-0882. Open Monday-Saturday, 9;30 AM - 12:30 AM, Sunday 11:00 AM - 4:00 PM. Cash, cards. No alcohol. Ample on-site parking. Vegan and vegetarian options; gluten-free bread. Website and menu here.

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.

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

Remember 10 or so years ago when a Sacramento-based taco shop blew into Redding? The one with the slogan, "Sometimes you just gotta have a real taco"? Well, Femme de Joie remembers; she remembers going into the one on Hartnell and experiencing a taco with a side of sleaze and sass from the staff ... It was memories of that place that kept her driving past that same little restaurant on Hartnell long after Jimboy's packed up their tents and stole off into the night.

Not so long ago, Amico del Signore asked if she'd ever eaten at Taco Barn, now the occupant at 66 Hartnell. M. de Joie filled him in on her tale of woe and grease, to which he replied that Taco Barn was really pretty good and she should try it. So the next time she was in the neighborhood, she did. He was right: it's pretty good. Order at the counter and wait - it won't take more than a few minutes - and then help yourself to salsa, limes and hot carrots.

Taco Barn's Fish Tacos, $8.99

Fish tacos ($8.99) were terrific. Deep-fried filets were not at all greasy or “fishy” tasting - though they had plenty of flavor - and were complimented with threads of cabbage and pico de gallo. These were some of the best Femme de Joie has tried locally.

Taco Barn's Taco Salad, $5.99

Taco salad ($5.99) was a light lunch plate with shards of beef on a large green salad. This wasn’t weighted down with a lot of sour cream or chips, so it was satisfying without being soporific. There are tastier and more flamboyant versions out there, but M. de Joie certainly wouldn’t send this one back to the kitchen, and the portion size seemed right for the price.

Taco Barn's California Burrito, $5.99, with a side of rice and beans, $2.99.

A delicious and freshly-made California burrito ($5.99, with a side of rice and beans, $2.99) is packed with niblets of slightly salty but crunchy crisp-fried carne asada, guacamole, cheese, tomatoes and whatever else is lying around the kitchen. This is tremendous value for money and will definitely fill you up; it might even be competition for the burritos served at Burrito Bandito, and that is saying something.

Taco Barn's Chile Rellano Combination Plate, $8.99

The chile rellano on this combination plate ($8.99) had a light puffy coating and was made with a fresh green poblano chile. Its partner, a cheese enchilada, was tasty but noticeably salty, and a puddle of oil oozed out beneath both the rellano and enchilada.

Taco Barn's Al Pastor Burrito, $8.99 with rice and beans.

Al pastor is kernels of pork tossed in ground chiles and other spices, then pan-roasted to crispness and served with cool contrasting flavors like guacamole. Here, an al pastor burrito ($8.99 with rice and beans) was properly spicy and bursting with chili flavor, though again a bit salty and oily.

Those rice and beans, by the way, are above-average for fast-food Mexican - not salty or reheated-tasting, and without that canned flavor you sometimes (often, even) find in this kind of restaurant.

Though she passed it by for who knows however many years, M. de Joie now is a fan of Taco Barn. It’s not elegant - those plastic plates squeak under the draw of a plastic fork - but the food is freshly prepared and mostly pretty tasty (though occasionally there's a heavy hand with the salt and oil), as well as good value for money. Next time you’re pawing through those claustrophobic racks at Book County or picking up some grow lights & hydroponic supplies across Hartnell for your geraniums and feeling a bit peckish, stop in.

Taco Barn, 66 Hartnell Avenue, Redding, CA 96002. (530) 221-6265, and 2727 Ventura Street, Anderson, CA 96007 (530) 365-1812. Open Monday- Saturday 7:00 AM- 10:00 PM (dining room to 9:45 PM), Sunday 8:30 AM-9:00 PM (summer, March-November). Winter hours 7:30 - 9:00 PM (dining room to 8:45), Sunday 8:30 AM-9:00 PM (December-February). Cash, cards, no checks. Beer. Drive-though; loads of parking. Vegetarian and vegan selections.

Singaporean chef/cooking teacher Vanessa Frida speaks warmly of Thai sweet chili sauce and its all-around usefulness. M. de Joie had heard of it but wasn't really sure what it was -- there are many products labeled chili sauce or chili paste that don't taste at all like what a Californian might think. But Vanessa Frida knows whereof she speaks.

So the next time M. de Joie stopped in at Lao Market (2660 South Market Street, near Racha Noodle) to pick up some sesame oil and nuoc mam, she grabbed a bottle of Thai sweet chili sauce and took it home ... where it sat for several months. Finally she opened it up to make a Thai-style cucumber salad, and discovered how incredibly delicious it is served on - well, just about anything. It's gooey, sweet, and spicy-hot, and makes a wonderful dip/spread to use with wild abandon.

What's it good on? Fried chicken, shrimp, raw vegetables, grilled cheese, onion rings, pork chops, French fries, toasted sesame bagels, grilled hot dogs, steamed rice, cabbage salad, a pastrami or corned beef sandwich, lamb kebabs, cream cheese on a cracker, a hot buttered English muffin, and probably a lot of other things yet to be discovered.

Another item to pick up in an Asian market is black rice vinegar. White rice vinegar is more familiar but there are also red and black varieties. The red is a bit salty; black vinegar is more assertive than the white and somewhat resembles balsamic vinegar. If you love experimenting with Asian foods, this should be on your shelf. Try mixing equal parts good-quality soy sauce and black vinegar and adding a bit of grated ginger and/or sesame oil to make a dipping sauce for pork roast, eggrolls, spring rolls, spareribs, pot stickers and dumplings, or as a dressing for a cucumber or cabbage salad.

Then there's Trader Joe's Wasabi Mayonnaise. M. de Joie found it above the frozen fish in Trader Joe's and hasn't given a single thought to ordinary tartar sauce since. It has a nice wasabi kick and goes great on fried fish, shrimp, and oysters, roast beef, or as a sandwich spread. Also try dipping crackers or crudités into wasabi mayo, then into the sweet chili sauce for an extra blast of heat and flavor.

Sweet chili sauce, about $3.20 for a 32.5-ounce bottle at Asian markets.

Black rice vinegar, about $2.39 for a 20.3-ounce bottle at Asian markets.

Trader Joe's Wasabi Mayonnaise, $3.29 for a 12-ounce bottle at Trader Joe's.

Follow Vanessa Frida at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Culinary-Ness/151908563699#!/pages/Culinary-Ness/151908563699?v=info

Profile

menuplease

April 2017

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
						1
2	3	4	5	6	7	8
9	10	11	12	13	14	15
16	17	18	19	20	21	22
23	24	25	26	27	28	29
30

Syndicate

Page Summary

Lao Meets Thai at Kanya Market
Sauce Is King at Fat Daddy’s Gourmet Bbq
The Best Little Sandwhich Shop Really Is
Menu Please: House of Prime Rib – Prime Rib For a Price
A Tale of 2 BBQs
Redding’s Taco Barn Serves a Tasty Bargain
Three Great Condiments to Try

Style Credit

Style: Neutral Good for Practicality by timeasmymeasure

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated Jun. 6th, 2026 01:02 am

Where to Eat in Redding and Shasta County, California

Entries tagged with condiments

Lao Meets Thai at Kanya Market

Sauce Is King at Fat Daddy’s Gourmet Bbq

The Best Little Sandwhich Shop Really Is

Menu Please: House of Prime Rib – Prime Rib For a Price

A Tale of 2 BBQs

Redding’s Taco Barn Serves a Tasty Bargain

Three Great Condiments to Try