A Cozy Weekend in San Francisco
It felt so welcomed to San Francisco when I saw the smiling faces of my cousin, Jessica and family walking down the hill towards me on that very sunny Saturday afternoon. I hadn't seen three and a half year old Vivienne in so long, but she still ran right up to me and gave me a hug. Little Julian, at one and a half, was a little more cautious, but a few hours into the day, he was already climbing into my lap and showing me his "beep beeps" and "choo choo's."
Jessica, Dave, Vivienne and Julian had just gotten back from brunch but I was ready to eat after a 4 hour journey from Houston. Jessica took me on a short stroll around the Inner Sunset neighborhood where they live. It is a low-key neighborhood with more of a town & community feeling. It is still full of a diverse mix of ethnic restaurants and funky shops, but you get the sense that people there know each other by name or address. It is adjacent to the University California - San Francisco medical school and hospital so it also has a "student vibe" to it. I read that many locals name it as their favorite neighborhood despite the fact that it has the worst weather in the city due to its proximity to the Pacific Ocean in "fog zone."
After Jessica & I parted ways, I found the Wooly Pig Cafe. It's a tiny little shop with just a few tables that serves well-made espresso drinks, lychee black tea, and gourmet sandwiches. I opted for the braised caramel pork belly sandwich that was topped with mizuno greens, pickled shallots and balsamic vinaigrette served on challah bread. It was a delicious little meal for a late lunch.
While Dave and Vivienne went out to do some last minute Christmas shopping, Jessica and I took Julian for a walk in Golden Gate Park, just a few blocks from their apartment. Before I could even see it, I heard the drum circle from afar. There was a sun-filled valley of the park that was full of mostly-stoned drummers rocking out in a large semi-circle. It was a mostly male ensemble with all ages and walks of life represented. Mangy dogs ran about. Women in flowing scarves frolicked. An older man with long dreadlocks sang along, he seemed to think he was conducting the group. The entire gathering was shrouded in a cloud of sweet-smelling pot smoke, totally legal in the great state of California.
Jessica lives in a quaint old San Francisco row house; it is a two story building with a lot of character and even a shared backyard. While Dave prepared dinner, Jessica and I played with the kids in the back. Vivienne scooted around on her wooden "bicycle" while Julian watched on, trying to mimic his big sister's every move.
Dave made a delicious dinner of sole with a lemon-butter sauce, roasted butternut squash, and sautéed arugula. The vegetables had all come from either their farm share or the weekly farmer's market. All of the leftovers were composted, because in San Francisco, composting is not an option, it is a rule.
While Jessica and Dave tended to the kids, I went out in search of alcohol. There was a small bar with onsite brewery just a few blocks away called Social Kitchen & Brewery. They made mostly Belgian-style beers. I was really in the mood for a porter or a stout but unfortunately they had none on tap that night. I sampled a few different brews, including one called the Devlish that was made with salted caramel, rosemary and thyme but settled for one called L'enfant Terrible, a dark ale. It was light but malty, I enjoyed it. I also enjoyed eavesdropping on the awkward first-date conversation of the couple seated next to me at the bar. The man was sharing his stories about how he used to take ten to fifteen shots of alcohol in the first few hours of any given night out at the bar. Yes, there are some things you should keep to yourself on a first date.
I slept better than I had in a long time on Saturday night. After a glorious ten hours of sleep, I awoke to the high pitched little voices of Vivienne and Julian. I joined the family in the kitchen and together we made apple pancakes. It was a cozy way to spend a Sunday morning.
The five of us made a visit to the Sunset Farmer's market, a weekly occurrence in this neighborhood. Vivienne and Julian got to meet Santa, who was giving out honey sticks in lieu of candycanes. Santa was picked up by a purple PT Cruiser with a spotted dog inside instead of a carriage with reindeer. The farmer's market filled up a small parking lot but was full of lots of delicious options including many hearty winter greens, tart apples, and even strawberries. I tried a delicious kumquat marmalade and some Afghani snacks.
Jessica was raving about a bakery across the street from the farmers market called Arizmendi, a bakery cooperative. The sign inside the shop said "Make Loaves Not War." It was warm inside the tiny shop and smelled strongly of yeast and coffee. We picked an assortment of items to snack on, including dark chocolate and cherry sourdough, cheddar scones, and the scone of the day which was pear and blueberry. I wasn't even that hungry after our big breakfast, but I couldn't resist. This place also makes a pizza of the day which also sounded delectable.
I figured it was about time I exercised off all of these carbs I'd been eating. I set out on a run through Golden Gate Park. This park is larger and more tree-filled than New York's Central Park. It was still damp and gloomy when I went on my run, but it made the air smell fragrant of pine needles, cedar wood with the faintest hint of sea air.
I headed towards the Pacific Ocean end of Golden Gate Bridge and took a few minutes to snap photos of the rocky coastline. As chilly as it was, the surfers were still out enjoying the waves. Tall sand dunes blocked the wind from rolling in off the coastline. I made my back through the park, running past the California Academy of Science and finally seven miles later, ending up back at Jessica and Dave's apartment. I felt fantastic.
The sun finally broke out of the clouds around 3pm that afternoon and so Jessica and I did a bit of shopping around the neighborhood, looking through eclectic shops tightly packed with various goodies. While Jessica and Dave entertained guests, I took the MUNI down to the Russian Hill neighborhood to check to some of the funky shops and quaint boutiques on Union Street. I decided to walk most of the way, to enjoy the sunshine and exercise, so a lot of the stores were already starting to close up by the time I made it down there. I perused through books at an independent bookstore, looked at eco-friendly children's clothing, and peered into cozy restaurants decorated with Christmas lights.
On the way back to Jessica's place, I decided to stop in at Zuni Cafe for an early dinner. After the 7 miles of running and another 4 miles of walking, I was ready for a culinary reward. Dave had suggested Zuni Cafe and I had also read about it online; it sounded like good, solid California cuisine. On the way there, I walked past the very festively light City Hall and opera house. I also spotted my first San Francisco food truck which was serving sliders and greasy comfort food; a stand next to it was selling homemade pies as a fundraiser for some needy African tribal group.
The benefits of eating alone and early in the night are prompt seating at virtually any restaurant. Zuni Cafe had a decent crowd for 6:30 on a Sunday night. I got a window seat in the bar area which gave me a good view of the street outside, the bartender shaking cocktails, and the pianist sitting at the grand piano.
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