Breaking Eggs

'Twas Herb Caen who coined the phrase Baghdad by the Bay, referring, of course, to San Francisco. Would have been a time when SF ("The City," never "Frisco") was still considered racy and Baghdad was considered, well, exotic.

Gourmet, the foodie life-style mag, had a piece on the (exotic) markets of Baghdad in last month's issue, assuring readers that

Unless there's an extraordinary amount of violence on the roads into Baghdad, the markets are almost always full of produce...One of the most amazing things about the city is that even when there are car bombs exploding, a few streets away there are usually throngs of people out shopping.

There's even an Iraqi blogger named Shaggy who writes Baghdad Bacon & Eggs. So much for life-goes-on.

But what about Baghdad by the Bay? Life goes on...in the inner sanctums of its culinary palaces, at any rate.

Consider this self-absorbed concoction, lovingly described in the food columns of the San Francisco Chronicle last week:

Before service, [Ron] Siegel, chef of the Dining Room at the Ritz-Carlton, fills [a] bong-like device with cedar shavings. He covers glass bowls with plastic wrap so tightly that you can barely see the plastic. When an order comes in, he pokes a small hole in the plastic, then places a slow-cooked quail egg, croutons and caviar on top of the plastic. After lighting the cedar shavings, he channels the smoke through the hole, which fills up the glass bowl.

When the dish arrives at the table, the diner lifts a demitasse spoon covering the hole. The smoke escapes and perfumes the entire dish.

This bong hit while the real Baghdad is being blown to smithereens. We're so sorry, Shaggy, we're so sorry.