I mean, guys. Guys. Every once in a while, it is a good to
have a hope-renewing experience wherein something is JUST AS AWESOME AS YOU
KNEW IT WOULD BE AND MORE. This place is a Wonderland of Food, all of it so
gorgeous and beautifully presented that I thought I might cry. I went back three times, wandering around with
my camera, looking every inch the tourist, which was fine because I was a
tourist.
It is rad enough to
be able to sip a chicory-laced cold brew New Orleans style iced coffee from
Blue Bottle. It is additionally more delicious to accompany that with a macaron
from Miette (I tried both chocolate lavender and rose geranium). But in
addition to being able to grab a coffee (the most delicious coffee) or grab a
treat (the most delicious treat) it is also possible to stop off and grab an oyster. Yes. You go to the lady,
you give her $2, and she gives you an incredible oyster. You top it with all
the fixins (cocktail sauce, Atomic Hotsauce, horseradish), slurp it down and
you’re on your way. Just stoppin’ off for an oyster lalala.
The Gold-Colored
Light Everywhere
Gorgeous!
The Hills
So steep!
The Fog
Surprisingly poignant! Not sure why!
I heard about this place from Heidi Swanson’s San Francisco
Guide, thought it would be cool to check out, forgot out it, then stumbled upon
it while looking for coffee. So many beautifully bound, hard-to-find
periodicals, plus all of the usuals. A handful of good literary journals.
Smells like very fine paper. I found both Kinfolk, which I’ve been meaning to check
out, and Cereal out of the UK, which seems equally awesome.
The Fillmore Jazz
Festival
Highly recommended, but also obviously time-sensitive.
A little grove of redwoods in the middle of the Financial District.
No biggie.
Subway tiles. Old fashioned private banquettes. Gregarious
bartenders wearing lab coats. A huge bowl of cioppino, dark-crusted sourdough
and a plastic bib to protect your outfit. Since 1903, of course.
A Highly Recommended
Walk
A long stroll from the top of the Twin Peaks down through
Chinatown and North Beach, stopping for minestrone soup, and then on to
Fisherman’s Wharf.
Fisherman’s Wharf
That place is terrible. Do not go there.
The Mission and
Castro
My hipster wonderland. Gah. This neighborhood has lived in
my imagination since I read A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius at
age 15, and it was just as cool as I imagined it would be, with an open, sunny,
unpretentiousness that I didn’t anticipate. The hipsters in San Francisco are
doing the Maker movement right, and I’ll be thinking for a long time about why
I found this particular group of creatives so inspiring. It seemed (from an
outsider’s perspective) like there was a very high level of cooperation and
comradery. People appeared to champion one another’s projects rather than
compete with one another, even in a town that is nearly saturated with people
doing projects.
Over the course of one glorious morning I drank a pourover
Ethiopian Wote at Four Barrel, had a rad conversation with the owner/designer of
Nooworks about consumership and creativity, spent some birthday money at
Voyager, ate an arepa at Pica Pica, test-rode a Public Bike and flipped over
the raspberries at Bi-Rite Market. My honesty here is going to cost me—my
sisters will be making fun of me for this list of activities for years to come.
BRING IT ON, PUNKS.
*Note: all of this was possible because I had very sweet and
generous travel companions who indulged my (mainly food-related) mania at every
turn. I am a lucky lady in that regard most of all.
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