San Diego Reader December 15, 2016 45


Legit kick


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Certifiable kikizakeshi BeShock, 1288 Market Street, East Village. Does San Diego need another ramen bar? I wouldn’t have thought so. But East Village’s latest, BeShock, won me over for several reasons, not all of them having to do with ramen. Somehow the wide-eyed kitsch


FEAST!


of the name BeShock reads more Japanese to me than actual Japanese names such as Tajima or Yam- daya. Ed Bedford recently discovered it’s taken from the word bi-shoku, “the beauty of food,” or what Google less poetically translates as “gastronomy.” The beauty of BeShock’s ramen exceeds its curly


noodles and tender chashu pork. Vegetable top- pings play a bigger role here than most ramen spots with the likes of spinach, shredded leek, and bok choy available in addi- tion to the usual bam- boo, bean sprouts, and wakame seaweed. The amateur nutritionist in me appreciates the chance for a better- balanced dish. There’s even creamy vegan ramen featuring snap peas, broccoli, and tofu and a gorgonzola ramen with prosciutto and avocado. I couldn’t quite bring myself to try the latter, but I did try the tantan ramen, a spicy sesame take that had some legit kick to it best soothed with a selection from the sake bar. BeShock founder Ayaka Ito is most likely San


style. Assessing the differences was enlightening. At just a month or so in business, this place already attracts a crowd, so if you’re interested in tapping Ms. Ito’s sake expertise, look for a slow time to visit. I found her guidance worthwhile, with my favorite of the bunch the fresh junmai sake called Kuzuryu, a nine-headed dragon. I didn’t want to drink sake on an empty stomach, and for this visit I skipped ramen to try a different dish that had been catching my eye on other peoples’


plates: a karaage chicken fried with a crispy rice crust. Ito credits the tender white meat inside on marinating the chicken breast in koji, a key sake- making ingredient that breaks down rice into yeast- digestible sugars. The koji pairs the appetizer well with sake, but that crust really makes the fried- chicken dish stand out in look and texture. It’s a little much for one person to eat alone, so grab a friend or two, share some chicken, and learn some sake. by Ian Anderson


Donatello with mushrooms and the White Girl with a Delicious IPA by Stone


Northbound for pizza Pizzeria Luigi, 1137 25th Street, Golden Hill. I first visited Pizzeria Luigi in 2008. I lived in Los Angeles at the time, but I visited my brother in San Diego frequently enough that Luigi’s became a regular spot. I thought Luigi’s pizza was


nearly as good as my favorite L.A. spot, Vito’s Pizza. Vito’s is in a tiny Hollywood strip mall. There is


Diego’s only certified kikizakeshi, which is to sake what a sommelier is to wine. She brings some seri- ous sake knowledge, including a large map beside the bar explaining the difference in sake styles produced in the Japanese prefectures. You can also browse a booklet offering detailed tasting notes of the better sakes behind the bar. Beer fans take note — these come from small-batch producers, the equivalent of our independent local breweries. Of course, the best way to learn about the differ-


ences is to taste. I ordered a $14 tasting flight, and Ito set me up with three options: one she described as fresh, one aromatic, and one closer to traditional


barely any space to sit, and the staff constantly yells at each other in Italian, but they have the best pizza I’ve ever had. Luigi’s, on the other hand, offers a better atmosphere, more creative specials, cheaper combos, craft beer, a friendly staff of tatted-up punks, and the second greatest pie in what is my limited pizza knowledge. Side note: New Yorkers, feel free to make fun of


my California pizza limits. I have been to Chicago and had plenty of deep dish, but that’s a differ- ent game. “It all changed, like, a couple of years ago,” said


the punk pizza dude behind the counter when I asked him what happened to the tables. The pizzeria used to have tables littered with business cards,


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drawings, reviews, and other scribbles under the glass. They have been replaced with plain black tables. Flyers for shows were on the windows, and now they are neatly displayed in the back. The counter and bar have also changed. And the kitchen is now behind walls. Overall, it seems much neater, and though every person there still has a punk appearance, everything is pristine. I knew I wanted the special: two slices and a beer


for $9.50 ($7 with soda, up to $10.50 with wine). The glass case of pizza offered so many choices that I needed help to decide. “That’s a great one, that one is also really good, or


you could go for that one.” The guy at the counter basically pointed at all the pizzas. I decided on one slice of the chicken, bacon, and spicy ranch and the other a slice of ricotta cheese, parmesan, mushrooms, and garlic (no sauce on either). “White Girl and Donatello with ’shrooms,”


announced the guy behind the counter, present- ing me with the slices and then pouring a Delicious IPA by Stone. I started with the White Girl, the chicken,


bacon, and spicy ranch. With each bite I thought to myself, Where have I been? And why don’t I visit pizza heaven daily? The dough is neither crispy or chewy — it’s balanced. The flavor of the cheese pops out and dances with whatever topping you get. Despite not having sauce, neither slice was dry. For someone such as myself who advocates


Tijuana food constantly, I will say that pizza there is way behind the curve, despite the hundreds of locations. Many of my San Diego friends cross south solely for a better taco experience; I cross north for the better pizza. There are pizzerias in Tijuana that imitate New York style, and some even imitate the silly names, but no one south of the border comes close to Luigi’s. by Matthew Suárez


Stick with the beef and onions Zarlitos, 505 E. 8th Street, National City. When I sat down at Zarli- tos Family Restaurant and looked over the menu, I found lots of wonderful- sounding dishes. By that I mean the words them- selves sounded wonder- ful: sinigang na baboy, tortang alimango, daing na bangus. I’ve heard about Zarli-


tos’ award-winning poke, but I had no idea what


many of its traditional Filipino dishes were, and there are a lot of them. A menu explained: pork in tamarind soup, crab omelet, and fried milkfish, respectively. Any of these would have suited me just fine, but rather than blindly pick, I asked my server for a recommendation. She sized me up for a moment and then pointed


her finger to the combination menu, number nine. Would it be dinuguan or maybe kare-kare? Nope. She suggested that I order beef steak with onions. I get that I don’t look adventurous enough to try


a stew of pork in beef blood or oxtail with peanut sauce, but beef steak and onions? How boring. I did like the suggestion to choose a combo platter,


though. Most of Zarlitos’ $8 to $10 entrées are served without sides, meant to be ordered and shared, family style. The combo platters, on the other hand, include sides of pancit noodles, garlic fried rice, and lumpia — a little more diversity on the plate when you’re ordering for one. After discounting the familiar adobo dishes, a couple of beef options, and that bony milkfish, I opted for the most interesting-sounding choice on the combo menu: lechon kawali, described as chunks of crispy fried pork belly for $8.25. I figure it’s tough to go wrong with pork belly. Crispy doesn’t begin to describe its crackling skin.


Inside, the melting pork fat disintegrated in a flash of flavor. Outside was all salty crunch, but that went well with a side of the housemang tomas sauce, a mildly sweet dipping sauce made with liver and vinegar. Meanwhile, one of my friends ordered that beef


steak with onions for $10. Here’s where I have to give our waitress credit — it was the best thing I tried. The boring name aside, the thin slices of sautéed beef didn’t taste like something usually found on this side of the Pacific. I’ve noticed a lot of bright, acidic flavors in Filipino cuisine, and this beef went that route. It was tender, pleasantly fatty, and loaded


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