in praise of sardines

The Name Game: final polls

I think you've read enough of my blathering, so I'm going to try to keep this short.

First, let's review the concept.

Mission: Provide our guests a place to gather with their friends to celebrate food, wine, and life.

Food: Seasonal, sustainable California fare with Spanish flair.

Ambience: Bustling, convivial neighborhood joint with views into the open kitchen and garden.

There are 3 (!) polls today.

The first poll concerns the name Olallie. I'm keeping it separate for now. Since it has been the name associated with this project for the past year, it deserves special attention. The question is simple. Do you think I should keep it? Do you feel that any of the more than 200 names we've all come up with over the past few weeks are a better fit for the type of restaurant I am opening? Please only vote once.

Then there are the second and third polls. The difficult ones. How could I possibly whittle our lists down to a handful of choices? In the interest of full disclosure, my decision making process went something like this. Monday, I climbed to the top of Mount Whitney, built a sweat lodge, ate some peyote, and spent the day on a vision quest. Then I came home and spent the night floating in an isolation tank. Yesterday I consulted an astrologer, numerologist, tarot card reader, and i-ching expert before lunch, then had my palms read, looked into a crystal ball, and conference called the Dalai Lama, Pope Benedict, and Jon Stewart via Skype before finally passing out naked in a pile of Scrabble tiles, drunk from one of the many bottles of '61 Romanée Conti you all have been sending me.

Okay. Not really. I made the part about Jon Stewart up. If only!

Instead, I followed some advice a restaurant-owning friend gave me a few years back. She said to picture myself answering the phone and saying "Hello. You've reached ________. How may I help you?" Then repeat 100 times to see how I really feel about the name.

In addition, I focused on the story that each name tells. Also, how easy is it to spell, pronounce, and remember? Is it distinctive and appealing? What does it look like visually? Does it lend itself to graphic design? What does it sound like? Does it make you smile? Does it inspire culinary adventure?

Forgive me if your favorites didn't make the cut. Some, like Tibidabo, Corcovado, Casolana, Julivert, Barcino, and Bocarte, seemed too difficult to remember or pronounce. A couple of pretty ones, Triana and Sonrisa, struck me as too dull, not distinctive enough. One of the most popular choices, Open Hearth, fell into that category for me as well. As one commenter wrote, it really wants to be Hearth, but isn't. Two relatively popular ones, Besos de Sal and Lovage, didn't pass the phone test. Both seemed to be trying too hard to be romantic. Viridian is excellent, but it sounds too downtown and serious. I'm looking for something a little more playful. Sadly, I lost interest in Castropoda when a snail tried to crawl up my nose during my vision quest.

You'll notice I couldn't resist tossing in a new contender. Tilde. As in the adorable little squiggle above the letter n in some Spanish and Basque words (and above a and o in some Portuguese words). You know: ~, as in ñ. Sadly it's not used in Catalan. Diacritical marks used in Catalan, like Ce trencada (ç) and ela geminada (ŀl), just don't have the same familiarity and association with Iberia (to an American eye) as the well-known tilde. FYI, the Spanish/English word for the hook under the ce trencada is obscure but kind of cool: cedilla.

I also added biquini into the mix, even though only one person besides myself liked it. It really is the name in Barcelona for a hot pressed ham and cheese sandwich, aka a panino (Italian) or tartine (French). I think it has good potential as a name. But, then again, I may be suffering the delusional aftereffects of the peyote. Or perhaps it's just the iconoclast in me. I have to include one name that will inspire hate mail. [11 am update: Sorry, it was late last night/early this morning when I added this as a choice at the last minute. Although it's gotten a few votes, I'm deleting it from the polls].

In the second poll I've listed just 5 4 names. Even if you prefer Olallie, please participate in this poll. No conscientious objectors, please. You may choose more than one answer.

The third poll allows just one answer, but I've added Olallie back into the mix. Please only vote once.

Please note that the results of these polls are not binding. In fact, just to increase the suspense factor, you may have noticed that I'm keeping the results of these polls hidden from you all for now. Yes, I am that evil. I promise to share the results in a few days. [Saturday edit: as promised, results are now visible]

There's still time to persuade me that I'm making a horrible, unconscionable mistake. That I really must reconsider [insert your favorite name here]. That all of these choices are lacking and uninspired. Really. I'm flexible and open to new ideas. In fact, I can be downright malleable.

Also, by all means, if you come up with a brilliant idea, please don't hesitate to share it with me. I still have this hope that someone (perhaps one of the 9 Muses... 10 if you count Brillat-Savarin's Gasterea?) will whisper a poetic metaphor in my ear that captures the convivial spirit of my favorite restaurants in Barcelona and San Sebastián, that sense of a place to gather with your friends to celebrate food, wine, and life. Trust me, dear Muse, you will be rewarded handsomely.

The Name Game: eau de vie

This quandary over what to call my restaurant has caused me to think a lot about booze.

Not in the sense that the Name Game has driven me to drink... well, maybe partially in that sense. The main reason liquor has been on my mind lately is that I've been thinking about the process of distillation.

I remember my first visit to St. George Spirits in Alameda over a dozen years ago, back before Hangar One existed. The distiller Jörg Rupf demonstrated how he makes his Poire William eau de vie, now sold under the name Aqua Perfecta. He starts with the most perfect unblemished Bartlett pears he can find, then mashes and ferments them at a low temperature. Finally, he slowly heats the mash in small batches in his antique copper alembic still to capture the fruit's volatile aromas (and the alcohol). Every 750 ml bottle contains the essence of 30 pounds of pears.

To me, that's basically what the name of my restaurant should represent. I'm trying to come up with one word or phrase that captures the essence of what my restaurant is all about.

I looked over my impossibly long list of criteria that I drew up before my week-and-a-half hiatus. It's just too much. Trying to incorporate all those disparate elements in one name is the equivalent of a distiller throwing apples, pears, quince, persimmons, grapes, melons, and figs all at once into a still in an attempt to capture the essence of autumn. The result would be a muddied mess.

So, I need to decide. What flavor eau de vie do I want to make? If I were to choose one element of my restaurant's concept, what would it be? Is it the Catalan/Spanish angle? Is it the California seasonal-organic-local mantra? What about the eco-friendly green design? The open kitchen? The garden? Or something more personal, like openness, transformation, and renewal?

My soul searching has led me to a different answer, one that was buried further down in my list of criteria. It's led me to ponder the nature of restaurants. What is their purpose? What role do they play in our lives? Specifically, what function do I want my little restaurant to play within the community? (I can't help it. It's the Sagittarius in me. I'm a philosopher at heart. I frequently chew on questions like these).

When I was married, I took for granted that I always had a dining companion. Now that I'm separated, I see life differently. I don't always have a dinner date. On those occasions when I do, I find myself relishing the conversation and companionship more than even the food. More than the ambience and the service. This is a completely new experience for me.

Then there are those times when my friends cannot join me in my dining adventures (I'm terrible at making plans; I tend to eat late; everyone I know works 60 hour weeks; and, let's face it, most of my friends are married or otherwise attached). I like being surrounded by people and I love eating out. When I dine solo, I seek out restaurants with single-diner friendly communal tables and bar stools that don't require reservations. Places like Nopa, Bar Bambino, Bar Tartine, and Laïola. Invariably, I end up in a fun conversation with at least one person at the table or counter, often many more. So, again, the highlight of the night becomes the companionship. The who, not the what or the where.

Perhaps this is obvious to most of you. To me, a chef who's spent many years on the other side of the kitchen counter, this newfound perspective is a revelation. It's embarrassing to admit, but I had always presumed that the main reason people went out to eat was to sample a particular chef's cooking.

The root word for restaurant, the French restaurer, means "to restore." We go to restaurants to unwind after a stressful day in the office, to reconnect with friends, to restore and repair our spirits. Unlike attending plays, concerts, or movies, going out to eat is not a passive experience. It's interactive. It's social. It's sensual. Eating out is about community, relationships, friendships, love. One word sums it up: connection.

Before my separation with N, my thoughts on the role of my future restaurant emphasized other kinds of connection. Colored by my years behind the stove, I focused on the "field to fork" connection, that chain that links the roast chicken and mashed potatoes on our dinner plates to the farmers and all the other people that raised and produced our food. Wearing the hat of restaurateur, I also focused on the connection between the restaurant's design and the environment. How could the choices I make lessen the impact upon the earth that inevitably accompany new construction and restaurant operations?

These connections are still important to me. They've just taken a back seat to my new understanding of the most important and basic function of the kind of "casual upscale" neighborhood restaurant I'm opening: a place to share a table with friends. The restaurant's food, service, and ambience exist to create a backdrop that sets the stage for the main event: you and your friends. Essentially, every night my team and I will play hosts of multiple dinner parties with you as our guests. This community role —  a neighborhood gathering spot for friends — is the flavor of eau de vie I hope to capture in my restaurant's name.

I've recently found 2 names of existing places that succinctly capture what I'm trying to convey. Neither is a restaurant. Both are San Francisco shops. Their names represent the new North on my compass. One is Mingle. The other, a shop just around the corner from my future restaurant, is Wink. The first captures the social aspect of guests mingling with one another at a party. The second adds a dash of flirtiness that I like (and, based on the very unexpected popularity of "besos de sal," seems to appeal to many of you too). Connection and love.

These 2 names inspired a bout of multilingual brainstorming. Here's a look inside my brain (please excuse the mess, I wasn't expecting visitors). What follows is a nearly unabridged, mostly uncensored version of my stream of consciousness which led to 4 new name candidates:

mingle: link, linkup, hobnob, chat, gossip, joke, gather, together, togetherness, nabe, hood, community, web, Indra's net, interbeing, interconnect, intertwine, intersect, intersection, share, participate, mix, blend, emulsion, connect, nuts and bolts, staples, glue, social glue, celebrate, toast, cheers, wine and cheese, hors d'oeuvres, canapés, cocktails, cocktail dress, champagne, flute, amuse, socialize, network, team, the loop, meet, meet up, together, harmony, and, conjunction, with, plus, sum, addition, multiplication, we, us, first person plural, tertulia ("meeting and chatting with friends" in Spanish), junto (together in Spanish), catavinos ("glass for tasting wine" in Spanish), nosotros (we/us in Spanish), del barri (local, literally "of the area or neighborhood," in Catalan)

wink: nudge nudge say no more, smile, nod, gesture, body language, attract, attraction, magnet, magnetic, gravitate, electric, electricity, eyelash, eye shadow, blush, scent, perfume, cologne, lips, lipstick, lip gloss, kiss, smooch, pucker, pout, lick, tongue, pierce, piercing, tattoo, peacock, peacock feather, embrace, hug, caress, massage, touch, high heels, stiletto, stockings, garter belt, lingerie, low cut, flirt, crush, date, mating, courting, courtship, dance, romance, "careless rapture," moonlight, moonrise, starry night, starlight, flowers, blossoms, bloom, spring, rose, iris, dahlia, daisy, candy, jewelry, ring, necklace, earring, diamond, pearl, whisper, sweet nothings, coo, purr, ignite, sense of humor, twinkle (of eye), bubbly, sparkling, sparkle, play, playhouse, game, ludus (Latin for play), eros, charm, tease, tickle, amuse, whet, enchant, enchantress, temptress, Salomé, 7 veils, Carmen, entrance, entranced, beguile, seduce, seduction, mystery, intrigue, tempt, lure, woo, entice, beckon, (come) hither, bewitch, magic, rapture, intoxicate, enthrall, siren, hook, catch, ensnare, pounce, desire, yearn, hunger, thirst, crave, lust, pant, salivate, wild, untamed, crazy, passion, burn, fire, flame, fling, affair, intimate, dopamine, coqueteo (flirting in Spanish), beso (kiss in Spanish), bombolla (bubble in Catalan), chispa (spark in Spanish), pétillant (bubbly in French), frizzante (bubbly in Italian), mmmnn (universal sound of satisfaction, the human purr)

So, with that llooonnnngggg meandering tangent happily out of my system and behind us (thanks for indulging me!), you can find the latest crop of contenders after the jump. Besides the 4 names inspired by my brainstorming above, one of the new candidates is the crush I mentioned in my last post. Sadly, she's appearing to be more of a one-night stand (unless y'all persuade me that she's worth pursuing). Another on the list is the one that I'm currently wooing. There are also a few random uncategorized candidates that admittedly come more from my head than my heart. I also tossed in a couple of choices simply because I think they're funny. They represent my internal Trickster's attempt to keep the spirit of this game lighthearted, despite the looming deadline. I can't wait to to discover which, if any, of the names you'll be attracted to. Will you fall for the same one(s) I like? Will you be able to guess which ones are meant as jokes? Will you hate them all? Don't let my opinions distract you. Only choose the ones that honestly resonate with you. Vote. Leave comments. You know the drill. Also, if you haven't yet voted in Saturday's poll, please do so now.

One last favor. If the Muse whispers a poetic metaphor in your ear that captures the essence of "mingling" and "winking," community and love, please please please share it with me, either in the comments or via email. Also, if one of the words from my brainstorming session captures your imagination, let me know. Gracias.

I promise. In the next post we'll start the process of reviewing all the favorites, including Emerson, Olallie, and several others. I'll try to resist the temptation to add more new names. I think I'm pretty much tapped out.

Hang in there. Remember, I've made a commitment. This process will end in a few short days!

The Name Game: I've reached a decision!

That's right. No more waffling. I've made a decision.

No, not that decision. I still don't know what to call my little restaurant. My decision is simply this: the Name Game will end some time next week.

A bold pronouncement, perhaps (hence the bold typeface). But I know myself. I'm useless without a deadline.

So, let's get busy once again! The end is nigh.

Over the week and a half that I haven't been posting, some of you have left some excellent new ideas. I especially liked the suggestions of Persephone, Open Hearth, Vida, Sardana (a Catalan dance), Allium, and Salabret (Catalan for a type of fishing net). Wow. Those are all fantastic! Especially Open Hearth.

So, what's kept me away from the computer keyboard? It's been a rollercoaster 10 or so days for me. The highs include the beginning of construction (more on that soon! I cannot be more excited! To my ears, the jackhammers sound as beautiful as Cecilia Bartoli singing Mozart arias). Another high was Thursday's Thanksgiving feast with newfound friends. The lows? Really just one. It's a process involving the letters N and D (which is appropriate, as it is about the end of one phase of my life. Of course, every ending brings a new beginning. And I have to admit that I am truly loving the early days of this beginning).

You've probably gathered by now that I enjoy the challenge of a little chaos. Or maybe I'm just used to it. The bigger the waves, the better the surfing. One lesson I've learned is that during times like these past couple of weeks it's important to stay as centered and grounded as possible. I've been working overtime on that.

Foraging in the markets. Cooking (including open hearth cooking). Time with dear friends, old and new. Running. Meditation. Frolicking in nature (including a memorable visit to a place I consider a temple, the Marin Headlands). Rediscovering music.

Music! Since Burning Man, music and dance have slowly been working their healing magic on me. Gradually, the angry Cake, Doors, Stones, and Velvet Underground of the summer have fallen away as friends have helped me rediscover some old favorites and befriend some new ones. The Dead have happily returned into my life (yes, I was a bit of a Deadhead back in the day). As have Brazilian and Reggae music. A few of the highlights from my long list of new musical companions include Xavier Rudd, David Gray, Jack Johnson, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, Brazilian Girls, Thievery Corporation, and my new favorite Federico Aubele, who's originally from Buenos Aires. Expect some of these artists to be setting the mood at my new restaurant next year.

What does all this have to do with the Name Game? If I were to distill all the advice I've heard from those of you who have left comments and sent emails it would be this: listen to your heart when choosing the restaurant's name (good advice for the rest of life too, don't you think?). One result of all this extra time spent cooking, hiking, chillin' with friends, and groovin' to new tunes has been reconnecting with my heart. Or at least starting to. Over the past 10 days, a few names have managed to rise to the top of my heart like fresh cream in a bottle of milk. I've been flirting with each of them and, par for the course in this Name Game process, I have had trouble deciding which ones are mere crushes and which ones just might be The One. I am fickle, aren't I?

[Actually, I have a confession. There's one name I'm particularly excited about that I'm going to save for Monday. I just thought of it yesterday evening after an especially invigorating run, so it feels too new. Our eyes met across the room and connected in the way that reminded me of when I first met Ollalie Olallie. Was the spark a lightning bolt or simply an endorphin-loaded runner's high?].

Without further ado, allow me to introduce some of these new name crushes to you. As usual, be brutally honest. Vote. Leave comments. Play matchmaker. Save me from naming my restaurant Foc i Fum (which prompted some friends to jokingly ask me why I didn't just propose the name "Punk Ass Bitch").

The Name Game: a pause for reflection

2 weeks have passed since I brought you all into the process of selecting a name for my restaurant. I hope you're still having fun! To be honest, I didn't expect it to go on this long. I was positive one of those original 6 new names would be a winner. But that's not what happened, is it? I look back at those names through fresh eyes and wonder what I was thinking. Castropoda?

I'm discovering that this whole Name Game is not just about choosing a name for my restaurant. It's revealing a lot to me about the current state of my mind and heart. Your comments, emails, and votes in the polls have helped me see that I'm stranded on a sandbar at low tide. I'm having trouble connecting with my joyful heart.

The events of the past 6 months have momentarily clouded over that feeling of sunshine. My heart just isn't in the mood to listen to Julie Andrews sing Olallie to the tune of Do Re Mi. It would rather punk out to John McRea of Cake barking "foc i fum" to the tune of Nugget.

I know that those dark clouds are only a part of me. The storm will pass. It already is passing. While the storm's here, though, I figure I might as well sing and dance in the rain. Embrace the storm's fierce power rather than try to pretend like it isn't here. If every day were sunny, how boring would that be? I moved from southern California for a reason.

I spent quite a bit of time this past weekend soaking up some sunshine at the Green Festival. I basked in the positive, upbeat messages of some of my heroes, including visionary activist/trickster Caroline Casey and the soulful Gary Zukav. Zukav reminded the audience that we are the creators of our own experience. We create with our intentions by choosing which part of our personalities we feed: fear or love.  To change the collective consciousness of the world, we each need to change ourselves. We need to challenge the fearful, angry parts and cultivate the loving, caring parts.

Maybe it's a tall order, but I would love it if the name of my restaurant could convey that kind of positive message in some subtle indirect way. I want it to connect with those loving, caring, nurturing parts that, in me at least, are currently obscured by clouds.

After 2 weeks of the Name Game, I don't necessarily feel much closer to discovering a name for my restaurant. But I do see that the tide is rising. I'm starting to get some clarity.

Here's a sketch of my current thoughts.

• I prefer for the name to be in English, a language which I know and love intimately, over languages that I merely have a crush on (Spanish or Catalan).
• I prefer a non-food word or phrase, words that can serve as a metaphor.
• I would prefer that the metaphor pointed to Spain/Catalonia in a subtle way.
• My highest priority is a name that conveys the positive role and message of my restaurant: its connection to the earth, its roots in the community, its role in the farm-to-table food chain. (The name that conveys this eco-message aspect the best so far is Viridian. Or, dare I say it, Olallie).
• Ideally, I would also like the name to capture the joy of sharing the table with friends. Cooking and dining is more than a delicious revolution. It's a celebration of life. It is an expression of our love.
• Wouldn't it be great if the name could accomplish all that and not take itself too seriously?
• And be feminine and melodious.
• And inspire culinary adventure. I say, if you're going to bother to try at all, you might as well shoot for the stars.

So, that's the task. Simple enough, no?

Remember, though, that this is just a game! We're not trying to cure cancer here. We're only trying to come up with a name for a little neighborhood restaurant. And, in the end, the name of the restaurant is only of minor importance compared to the food, service, and ambience. Only continue to play along if you are in the mood.

Hopefully my fickleness isn't alienating any of you. I'm simply trying to share my creative process in as open and honest a way as possible. It's much more self-revealing than I thought it would be. Less linear, more messy and chaotic. I'm feeling a touch exposed, naked, and raw. This may sound crazy, but in my recent experience, that feeling of rawness is good news! The primal, creative energy is at hand. It's only a matter of time before the magic will strike.

Let's take a few days off and then regroup. Unfortunately I have some rather nasty business to attend to later this week relating to that less delicious topic I hinted at a few paragraphs ago. It's demanding all my attention and, like it or not, keeping my own personal tides of creativity at bay.

In the mean time, if the Muse whispers in your ear, don't hesitate to leave any new suggestions in the comments of this post!

The Name Game: your suggestions, part 2

Today I'm going to highlight those of your suggestions from the category I labeled Other. Most of these were words in English, but other sources included Latin, Basque, Galician, and people's own imaginations.

Since there were several I liked, I'm going to just list them and put them up for a mass vote. Once again, thank you to all of you who participated. Your ideas were so creative!

Honorable Mentions

Arlene’s (after Arlene Sardine, a children’s book about a sardine)
Bardine (play on sardine and bar/dine. Awesome!)
Califia (mythical Amazon goddess after whom state was named)
Halcyon (peaceful; prosperous; carefree)
Twine Spun (creative!)
Zest (love the meanings, culinary and otherwise; don't like the soap)

Name that Made Me Chuckle

Liselotte (Liselotte was the name that won the Name That Sheep Contest on Farmgirl Fare two years ago. I got so overzealous defending my suggestion of Pepato — as in the ewe's milk cheese pecorino pepato — that my consolation prize was getting a different sheep named after my name, not Pepato.

Finalists

Open Kitchen

The open kitchen with counter seating will be the first thing you see as you approach the restaurant. The design of my kitchen is radically open. Trust me, there is no other kitchen quite like it! The boundaries between it and the dining room are blurred. It will be like you're eating in my kitchen (depending on where you're sitting. Some seats will make you feel like you're eating in my garden. But I digress). Open also refers to my openness, my life's guiding mantra of late. If I chose this name, I would split the reward between the person who suggested Open and the one who added the Kitchen to it. On a personal side note, my mom's nickname was Kit. Groovy, no? (Trust me, she was!)

Sardine/Bar Sardine

Like Bar Sardina, this one seems like a natural fit. I think I prefer Bar Sardina, but I thought I'd let you weigh in on that. I know many of you like the idea of name that incorporates "sardine." You IPOS readers are predisposed to like it because you read my charming, fascinating, always amusing blog, which I am positive is the highlight of your day. While I'm happy to provide you a reason to get out of bed every morning, my concern is what about the other 99.999% of the world that regrettably does not read my blog (shocking, I know)? Is this a name that whets the appetite?

Someone sent me an email pointing out the problems that a now-shuttered restaurant called Tartare had. The name caused the perception that many dishes on the menu were uncooked, which was simply not the case. Might using the word "sardine" in the restaurant's name confuse and even scare away potential sardine-loathing customers? Does the name truly reflect my menus, which always include several vegetarian friendly options? On the other extreme, those who love sardines might be disappointed on those occasions when the little fish are not on the menu due to lack of availability. I do like its (and Bar Sardina's) quirkiness. But then again I came up with Castropoda, imby, and foc i fum, so what the foc do I know?

What about considering a phrase that doesn't imply that sardines are a menu item? Something silly like Sardine's Leap (my restaurant's leap from cyberspace to brick and mortar business). Or something else. Let me know if you think this is a road is worth traveling down.

Sardinella

Latin for sardine. Kind of has a nice ring to it. I know many of you like it. Am I the only one, however, that thinks of Cruella de Vil, Barbarella, and Dracula when I hear this name? I still think I prefer Bar Sardina of all the sardine variations. Oh, by the way, "In Praise of Sardines" as the name of a restaurant? First reaction: Awww, how sweet! They really like my little blog, don't they? Second reaction: Are you all high? (That would explain a lot, come to think of it).

Swoon

This one's a bit of a wild card. Nobody suggested it as a name here, but someone left it in a comment on a recent photo I took of grilled porcinis. It's one of my favorite words and it has the much sought after oo sound. It means "to enter a state of hysterical rapture or ecstacy." Well, that and "to faint." I like the idea of a verb for a name (are there any other restaurants with verbs as names?). Swoon makes me think of peak experiences, like falling in love and savoring extraordinary food (like perfectly grilled sardines... *thud* That was the sound of me fainting as my eyes rolled into the back of my head at the very thought of how delicious those little fish tasted). Swoon is also rather sweet and quirky. To me, it inspires culinary adventure. My only concern is it might raise people's expectations too high.

Viridian/Viridiana

Dark spring green with a bluish tint to it. You know how much I like my metaphors (see upper right corner of this page, just above my picture. That's right. Sardine is a metaphor too!).The person who suggested it wrote that viridian is a metaphor for "youth and promise, verve and vitality." It also conjures up images of spring and freshness. Additionally, it reflects my commitment to green practices, both in my menu and the restaurant's design. In fact, the name is associated with an environmentalist design movement. And guess what! There's also a Spanish connection. The feminine version, Viridiana, is both the name of a classic film by the iconic Spanish director Luis Buñuel and the name of a top restaurant in Madrid that was named after the film. I like the way both words sound. To my ear, they roll off the tongue in a nice way. If you like this one, let me know which version you prefer, yin or yang.

Mortar & Pestle

I'm adding one more of my own into the mix. The mortar and pestle are (is?) my favorite kitchen tools (I own three — marble, stone, and ceramic — and use them daily, all for different tasks). I consider myself a bit of a Luddite, the Don Quixote of the kitchen. The mortar and pestle symbolize my antediluvian approach to cooking. These tools represent the common "urban farmhouse" thread that runs throughout my cooking no matter what flavors I choose to feature. They are especially well-used in Catalan cooking, as many long-simmered dishes feature the last minute addition of a picada (toasted bread, nuts, garlic, herbs and other aromatics pounded together and added to a dish to flavor and thicken the sauce).

Onto the vote! I'm adding in yesterday's contenders, Bar Sardina and Casolana, too. For now, I'm going to group all the variations on the sardine theme together into one shoal, er, category. If that category's popular enough, we'll sort it out tomorrow. Then we'll revisit the favorites (including, but not limited to Olallie, Triana, Barcino, and Emerson. Maybe Bocarte. Maybe Julivert. Maybe foc i fum). If you haven't weighed in on last week's 8 new suggestions, there's still time to vote!

The Name Game: your Spanish and Catalan suggestions

Again, I want to thank everyone for your creative contributions towards coming up with a name for my restaurant. Your participation brought me more joy than an ice cold glass of Cava on hot August day!

For me, this Name Game has turned into a long brainstorming session. Your suggestions have my creative juices flowing. You've inspired me!

Today I'm going to go over just your Spanish and Catalan suggestions. The more I work on my menus, the more I'm leaning towards (how noncommital is that?) the idea of choosing a name rooted in Spain and, even more ideally, Barcelona and Catalonia. To me, the biggest drawback to the name Olallie is that it has no connection to that source of inspiration.

From my own list of name ideas that I posted Thursday, I agree with the voters who like Triana and Barcino. We'll hold those up as gold standards for Spanish/Catalan names. Both have some weaknesses (I'd prefer a Catalan name, and Triana is in Sevilla. Many people will incorrectly pronounce Barcino the Italian way as bar-chee-no). No name is perfect. I also am fond of Julivert, Catalan for "parsley."

So, onto your suggestions! As the old expression says, great minds think alike. Quite a few of the names you suggested had, at one point, also occurred to me. That's especially true of those of you who searched through Spanish and Catalan dictionaries for translations of words that relate to my concept. (Woohoo, shout-out to to the dictionary geeks out there! I too have spent countless hours on that pursuit!) In the Catalan column, I also had thought of Boqueria, Cuina, Granja, Masia, Mercat, Olla, Pla (I love Josep Pla!), Quimet (I adore Quimet Quimet, the postage stamp of a tapas bar in Barcelona, but turns out Quimet is simply short for Joachim), Safrà, Suquet, and Taula. From the Spanish selections, Alegría, Cava, Campo, Cazuela, Cortijo, Girasol, Granja, Marcona, Milagro, Olla, Pimentón, and Plancha were all names I once considered.

I had to drop some names from contention, because they're too similar to existing restaurants in San Francisco or are already taken by well-known restaurants elsewhere. These include Boqueria (such a perfect name for my restaurant, but I stubbornly refuse to use it!), Mercat, Alegría, Bocadillo, Cava, Cerca, Paz, Pipirrana, Sabor, Little Fish, Sardinia, and Zest.

One lesson I've learned from this process is that the Spanish and Catalan languages are troublesome sources for restaurant names in an American setting. As I mentioned before, I believe sound is especially critical when choosing a name from a language other than English. I have no idea why, but it seems that many of the Spanish and Catalan sounds don't resonate as well to the English-speaking ear as French and Italian do. Am I alone in that opinion? For one, there are many pronunciation and spelling challenges, as we have learned with bocarte (bogart, bokart, etc.) and foc i fum (let's not even revisit that one). That's particularly true of Catalan names, because almost no Americans know the pronunciation or spelling rules of Catalan. In addition, in California it's tricky to choose a Spanish name that evokes Spain more than Mexico or Latin America. My restaurant is decidedly not nuevo Latino (not that I have anything against nuevo Latino cooking, it's just not me).

I mentioned brainstorming above for a reason. I have good news and bad news. First the bad news. Please forgive me, but much as I tried, I was only able to fall in love with one of the names you suggested from the Catalan and Spanish languages. Now the good news! One name someone suggested inspired me. It led me to thumb through Coleman Andrew's classic Catalan Cuisine where I discovered what I think is a very decent candidate. I'll reveal that word soon, after the jump.

Runners Up: the A list

The advantage of names starting with a number or the letter A is that they end up at the top of the list on Open Table, the online reservation system that diners in the Bay Area live by.

Alabar. Spanish for "praise," as in In Praise of Sardines. Also has the word "bar" in it. But, I don't know, maybe it's just me. Isn't there something vaguely sacrilegious about two syllables that mirror Allah hanging out together in a word with Bar?

Allioli. The classic Catalan sauce of garlic and olive oil pounded together in a mortar and pestle until they form an emulsion. All i oli literally means "garlic and oil." The beauty of this name is, as the person who suggested it pointed out, that it's almost an anagram for Olallie (I actually mentioned this in my original post on why I chose Olallie, but I'd forgotten). It's cute, but I'm not sure it's as distinctive of a name as I'm seeking.

Arbequina. It's a type of olive grown predominantly in Catalonia and locally here in Northern California. My only issue is that naming a restaurant after an olive sounds a bit too nineties to me. There's Lucques in LA, Picholine in NYC, Olives in Boston, Oliveto in Oakland, and, of course, Olive Garden. Again, doesn't seem quite as unique as what I'm envisioning.

Honorable Mentions

From Catalan:

Benestar (well-being)
Bocí (piece, small bite)
Cassola (clay cooking vessel)
Cuina (kitchen and cuisine)
Granja (field)
Masia (farmhouse)
Olla (pot), Safrà (saffron)
Suquet (fish stew)
Taula (table).

From Spanish:

Campo (field)
Cazuela (clay cooking vessel)
Cerca (near)
Cortijo (farmhouse)
Cosecha (harvest)
Girasol (sunflower)
Granja (field)
Marcona (almond variety)
Milagro (miracle)
Neblina (mist)
Olla (pot)
Plancha (iron, griddle)
Sardina (sardine)
Simpático (nice, likable, friendly, amusing, pleasant
Suntuoso (sumptuous).

Most Melodic

Neblina. Unfortunately, I just don't like the idea of naming my restaurant after damp mist and fog. Besides, it's vaguely reminiscent of my ex-wife's name.

Melodic Names, Honorable Mentions

Allioli
Arbequina
Cazuela
Girasol
Marcona
Sardina

Best Meanings, but not so Melodic to my ear

Cortijo (farmhouse in Spanish)
Masia (farmhouse in Catalan)
Granja (farm in Catalan and Spanish)
Cosecha (harvest in Spanish)
Plancha (iron, griddle)

Frankly, I could add Bocarte to this list

Oddest Suggestion

Bizcocho (sponge in Spanish) Are you trying to tell me something?

So, allow me to introduce the 2 names I liked, one your suggestion and one inspired by your suggesions. Drumroll please....

The Name Game: your ideas!

Thank you to everyone who suggested names for my restaurant in Noe Valley that will serve seasonal, sustainable fare with Spanish flair. I've received nearly 200 suggestions so far! You all deserve a standing ovation. It's been a joy to read all the creative ideas and the reasoning behind them. You clearly have given the Name Game a lot of thought!

Tomorrow and Monday I will highlight the ones that resonated with me. Today, however, I thought I'd list all the names that you suggested. Gold star for everyone who contributed! I'm grouping them in categories by Catalan, Spanish, and Other. This is your chance to let me know which ones you especially like. Leave comments! Also, if I made any mistakes, please correct me.

Catalan

¡A Taula! (to the table)
Abraçada (hug)
Al Sol (sun)
Allioli (garlic and olive oil emulsion, classic Catalan sauce)
Anguila (eel)
Àpat (meal)
Arbequina (type of olive)
Arel (root, source)
Benestar (well-being)
Bocí (piece, small bite)
¡Bon Profit! (bon appetit)
Boqueria (market in Barcelona)
Bullinada (boiling)
Caldero (clay cooking vessel)
Cassola (pot, pan)
Català (Catalan language)
Catalana
Catalunya (Catalonia)
Collita (harvest)
Corral (farmyard)
Cuina (kitchen, cuisine)
Estació (season)
Fideuà (Catalan dish of seafood noodles)
La Franja (strip, as in western strip of Catalonia)
Fresc (fresh)
Ganivet (knife)
Granja (farm)
La Graella (grill)
La Sal (salt)
Masia (farmhouse)
Menjar i Terra (food and land)
Mercat (market)
Narri (neighborhood)
Obert (open)
Olla (cooking pot)
Pati (courtyard)
Pla (after Josep Pla, noted Catalan author)
Plaer (pleasure)
Quimet (short for Joaquim; reference to tapas bar in Barcelona)
Rebuda (welcome)
Sa Palomera (rock formation near Blanes)
Safrà (saffron)
¡Salud! (cheers)
Suquet (Catalan fish stew)
Terreny (land, field)
Taula (table)
Urbà (city)
Veinat (neighborhood)

The Name Game: 8 more name choices!

Based on the preliminary round of voting, Olallie is still the front runner, with bocarte putting in a strong showing for second (If you haven't yet voted, please do so now). Many people, myself included, are hopeful that we can still do better. From my point of view, there is one question to ask of each new name contestant: is it better than Olallie?

Nicole, a reader I've not met, left an insightful comment yesterday that sums up and reframes our task:

"Olallie, which I like very much, is the name you chose with your right, intuitive brain. It was a visceral reaction. The other names have often been clever, but more left brained and analytical, and haven't come close to expressing the warmth, fun, and connection to the earth that Olallie does. It's a name, for me, that really stirs up a desire for culinary adventure."

She's absolutely correct. Olallie was purely an intuitive choice. It came from my right brain. None of the other six choices thus far came from that same zip code within my gray matter. Perhaps that's the reason they have, with the exception of bocarte, mostly fallen flat.

We all have different brains and different cognitive styles. Some of us are more left brained, some more right brained. I fall squarely in the right brain camp. So for a restaurant name to reflect who I am and what my cooking is all about, it's going to have to appeal to that intuitive side.

With that in mind, I thought it would be a good idea to dig through my old name lists from the right brain's perspective. Many of the strengths of the right brain — intuition, emotions, creativity, art, music — are often, rightly or wrongly, labeled feminine qualities. As I looked over my lists, I searched for names that speak to that feminine side. I sought names that tickle the ear drums in the melodious way that Olallie does. I chose names that caused that same visceral reaction I had when I first thought of Olallie. My final criteria was names that have personal meanings to me.

I'm going to try something different this time. I'm listing 6 of the 8 new names without any explanation or meaning (the other 2 are in English). See if any of the words appeal to your intuitive side without knowing what they mean. I provide the meanings and pronunciation of the 6 after the jump, plus I introduce the other 2 names.

Araucana

Barcino

Julivert

Siurana

Somni

Triana

The Name Game: preliminary runoff vote

I can't thank everyone enough for playing along in the Name Game! I've found your candid comments and suggestions so incredibly helpful in my decision making process.

I'm glad I've decided to share this process with you all. I think we've all learned how challenging it is to come up with the perfect name for a restaurant!

I wasn't surprised that Gastropod and foc i fum were not so well-received, although I was a bit taken aback by the degree to which they were wholly despised. While I found them both amusing, I was grateful to discover how honest you were willing to be in your assessments. I found the bluntness of your comments both refreshing and hysterical to read! Your clear message: humor is not really an important consideration in naming a restaurant, at least not the kind of place I am opening. I did expect imby to fare better, but again, I think your comments were spot on. It's a little to cutesy, not reflective of the kind of restaurant I'm opening. Catalina finished fourth in the voting, but I agree with those commenters who find it a little bland and too evocative of Southern California.

All in all, I had fun reading your reactions and am so grateful to have you all as my focus group. It was wonderful to discover how seriously you were considering each name. From the beginning it was clear that you truly want me to pick a great name for my restaurant. Thank you, thank you, thank you! That means so much to me. I can't overstate how appreciative I am of your contribution to this process!

So, at this point in the process, Olallie-lovers rejoice. The name lives on. Our three preliminary finalists are: Olallie, bocarte, and Ca'l Brett. As of 10:30 pm last night, 21% of the voters loved Olallie, 56% were positive (top two categories combined); 17% loved bocarte, 55% were positive; 18% loved Ca'l Brett, 50% were positive.

Choose your favorite in the poll below. I added a fourth option, "none of the above," for those who aren't crazy about any of these three names and think we can do better. Be honest. I can take it.

Remember, this is just a preliminary round of voting and the results are not binding. There are more names on the way, including your suggestions! Don't forget to leave comments.

Tune in tomorrow to meet those contestants that didn't make my final cut. I think many of you will prefer them to the ones that did! Saturday I'll list every single one of the names that you all have suggested. Then, Sunday and Monday I'll highlight those names amongst your suggestions that resonated with me.

The Name Game: Ca'l Brett

Help me name my future restaurant! I'd love to hear what you think of some names I've come up with... and I'd be tickled if you'd share your suggestions for a name. EVERY DAY I'LL POST A NEW NAME. Please express your honest opinions in the poll and leave comments. Thanks for playing the Name Game!

Photo of Barcelona's Cal Pep by Kees DeVos.

Our seventh and final contestant from the names I came up with is Ca'l Brett [Note: at 11 am I edited the post from the original spelling of Cal Brett, due to comments left by readers]. This is not the final name choice, however. Tomorrow I will feature a vote amongst the top three names that I've come up with. Then, Thursday I'll list some names that didn't make my final cut... but perhaps should have. Sunday and Monday I'll introduce you to my favorites from amongst the many fantastic and creative names that you have suggested! Hope you're all still having as much fun with the Name Game as I am.

The Story:

Ca'l Brett means "Brett's house" in Catalan.

In one sense, the name is an homage to Cal Pep, a favorite Barcelona tapas bar that, like my restaurant, has lots of seating at the kitchen counter. By happy coincidence, Ca'l can also be seen as referring to California and California cuisine.

(For you language geeks out there, in Catalan the use of cal parallels that of chez in French and is often used in restaurant names. Ca is a contraction of casa de. The addition of the "l" to cal comes from the personsal masculine article el, which is often added before men's names to indicate familiarity). It can be written both as cal and ca'l.

Pros:

Catalan name: strong connection to my cooking influences from Spain and her Mediterranean neighbors.

Similarity to Cal Pep: connection to Barcelona, tapas style of eating, dining at kitchen counter. The chef in the above photo is Josep "Pep" Manubens.

Ca'l: connection to California and California cuisine (sometimes called Cal-Med). My "field to fork" focus reflects that California sensibility.

Brett: this is an intensely personal restaurant, the culmination of my life experiences, tastes, beliefs, values. It's my vision of what a neighborhood restaurant can and should be. I will serve the food that I love to eat and serve to my friends. As I mentioned in the concept, my intention is that guests will feel like they're coming over to my home for dinner.

Simple and easy to remember, spell, and pronounce.

Cons:

Somewhat uncomfortable having my name as the name of the restaurant. I see myself as kind of a humble guy with a self-deprecating sense of humor. (Or perhaps that was the old me?) Either way, I don't see myself as on par with other chefs who have opened eponymous restaurants, like Gary Danko, Jean-Georges, Daniel, Bouley, etc. I firmly believe restaurants are collaborative efforts and are all about team work. If I call my restaurant "Brett's house," I'm concerned that the name will negatively impact my co-workers's sense of empowerment. Some days I love this name, others I'm not so sure.

Not sure how Ca'l Brett sounds to people not familiar with Catalan. I know almost nobody will get the Catalan connection until they are told (which isn't such a big deal. Who knew what A16 stood for when it opened?). What did Ca'l Brett evoke to you before I told you the Catalan meaning? Did it sound positive or negative or something else?

There was a cool coincidence with this name. A reader named Pep, who I believe is from Catalonia, left a comment last Thursday suggesting this name as well. We agreed to "unpublish" the comment until after I published this post. In an email message Pep wrote: "I was thinking of it because as you know [Ca'l Brett] is the Catalan version of Casa Brett. A lot of small and traditional eateries are named like that. And I think it has some honesty that I find very charming."

What do you think? Take the poll and leave your comments. And remember, each comment counts as a raffle ticket in a drawing for a free dinner for two at my future restaurant (scheduled to open mid 2008).

Helpful links:

The restaurant's concept
Suggested guidelines for comments
Suggest your own name idea here