San Fran
I've been working on my Schweitzer response, but it keeps getting longer and I'm unsatisfied with what I have. It is coming, though, for what it's worth.
But what I want to talk about now is THE CITY. Saturday when S and I woke up Mikey was out of town (an unusual combo; generally S works when he's gone) and she looked at me and said, 'san francisco.' And I said, 'yeah,' and we went.
It took about three hours from my house to Powell, a little over two driving to Walnut Creek (where I was born) and then the rest on BART, through the east bay, oakland, under the water, and then into San Fran proper.
Man, what a town.
The weather was warmer than we expected, but we caught a cab right away to the Legion of Honor, one of the fine arts museums. I have never been. It's far on the west side of the penninsula; you can see the water from the grounds. They have an impressive Rodin collection, and I saw paintings by Rembrandt (what a master) Picasso, Monet, others. There was a Mayan exhibit downstairs. This was interesting, but not as captivating as the art above. By then we were starving and caught a cab to north beach.
It's tough eating in a town like san fran because there are, literally, hundreds of good restaurants. Hundreds. Some blocks are nothing but restaurants, and while in my small town I'm very limited, in sf I can eat sushi, chinese, irish pub, italian, burgers, seafood on the same street. It was pretty close to heaven.
One thing I learned, via Steph, is the way to find a good restaurant is to find a good wine shop and ask the owner. Wine geeks are foodies, almost always. We got lucky, found a wine store, and were sent to washington square bar and grill. Bar and grill? I wouldn't have stopped in. But the food was oustanding, and the selection!
I began with an islay scottish whiskey I can't spell; then we were seated and I had duck confit, a crusted goat cheese salad, filet mignon buried in mint (it was great, but did cloak the flavor of the beef itself...though it was the tenderest beef I've ever had in my mouth) bread pudding which wasn't like normal bread pudding...all custard and liquid dark chocolate, a bottle of mouvedre, coffee, I could hardly walk out the door.
Yet walk we did. Up the steps to coit tower, where we stared at the city and called Mikey on the cell. Then back down. We went to city lights, my first trip to the beat bookstore mecca, had a gin tonic at the bar next door, pictures of ginsberg, kerouac, cassady everywhere. We walked to mason and caught a cable car, something S has never done, and then back to bart.
The best thing about it all, besides the art and food, was the conversation. Our first cabbie had an m.a. in biotech; our second had just dropped out of a graduate program in computer science; the guy working the back of our cable car had some great things to say about the government (ah, a blue city) and everywhere we went people looked and spoke urban! I dug the contrast, natch; I want to go back. Yes, the mountains are very beautiful, and I love having four actual seasons, but there is no place like sf I know. So many restaurants, museums, bars...and cabs everywhere...like grown-up disneyland...I can walk anyplace I need to go or catch a ride in seconds. It even has 'lands,' you know, italian land, chinese land, japanese land. I don't mean to be silly. You can travel from one ethnic neighborhood to another, eating, eating, eating.
I will say we first got off the bart I was pretty nervous; it was probably five years since I'd even been. How would we get to the museum? I wanted to catch a cab, but could I? All I had to do was stand on the curb and the guy was waving me over. What a town.
It was a good time for S and I, and while I was afraid, to be truthful, much of the time (mom fears) and anxious being in such a different place, I just did it, faced it, and looking back have nothing but good things to say. We actually drove home that night. Next time we'll crash with my friend in benicia or stay some place out there. But wow. The food options alone stagger.
Be well all. Too much work to do to linger. I'll write again soon.
But what I want to talk about now is THE CITY. Saturday when S and I woke up Mikey was out of town (an unusual combo; generally S works when he's gone) and she looked at me and said, 'san francisco.' And I said, 'yeah,' and we went.
It took about three hours from my house to Powell, a little over two driving to Walnut Creek (where I was born) and then the rest on BART, through the east bay, oakland, under the water, and then into San Fran proper.
Man, what a town.
The weather was warmer than we expected, but we caught a cab right away to the Legion of Honor, one of the fine arts museums. I have never been. It's far on the west side of the penninsula; you can see the water from the grounds. They have an impressive Rodin collection, and I saw paintings by Rembrandt (what a master) Picasso, Monet, others. There was a Mayan exhibit downstairs. This was interesting, but not as captivating as the art above. By then we were starving and caught a cab to north beach.
It's tough eating in a town like san fran because there are, literally, hundreds of good restaurants. Hundreds. Some blocks are nothing but restaurants, and while in my small town I'm very limited, in sf I can eat sushi, chinese, irish pub, italian, burgers, seafood on the same street. It was pretty close to heaven.
One thing I learned, via Steph, is the way to find a good restaurant is to find a good wine shop and ask the owner. Wine geeks are foodies, almost always. We got lucky, found a wine store, and were sent to washington square bar and grill. Bar and grill? I wouldn't have stopped in. But the food was oustanding, and the selection!
I began with an islay scottish whiskey I can't spell; then we were seated and I had duck confit, a crusted goat cheese salad, filet mignon buried in mint (it was great, but did cloak the flavor of the beef itself...though it was the tenderest beef I've ever had in my mouth) bread pudding which wasn't like normal bread pudding...all custard and liquid dark chocolate, a bottle of mouvedre, coffee, I could hardly walk out the door.
Yet walk we did. Up the steps to coit tower, where we stared at the city and called Mikey on the cell. Then back down. We went to city lights, my first trip to the beat bookstore mecca, had a gin tonic at the bar next door, pictures of ginsberg, kerouac, cassady everywhere. We walked to mason and caught a cable car, something S has never done, and then back to bart.
The best thing about it all, besides the art and food, was the conversation. Our first cabbie had an m.a. in biotech; our second had just dropped out of a graduate program in computer science; the guy working the back of our cable car had some great things to say about the government (ah, a blue city) and everywhere we went people looked and spoke urban! I dug the contrast, natch; I want to go back. Yes, the mountains are very beautiful, and I love having four actual seasons, but there is no place like sf I know. So many restaurants, museums, bars...and cabs everywhere...like grown-up disneyland...I can walk anyplace I need to go or catch a ride in seconds. It even has 'lands,' you know, italian land, chinese land, japanese land. I don't mean to be silly. You can travel from one ethnic neighborhood to another, eating, eating, eating.
I will say we first got off the bart I was pretty nervous; it was probably five years since I'd even been. How would we get to the museum? I wanted to catch a cab, but could I? All I had to do was stand on the curb and the guy was waving me over. What a town.
It was a good time for S and I, and while I was afraid, to be truthful, much of the time (mom fears) and anxious being in such a different place, I just did it, faced it, and looking back have nothing but good things to say. We actually drove home that night. Next time we'll crash with my friend in benicia or stay some place out there. But wow. The food options alone stagger.
Be well all. Too much work to do to linger. I'll write again soon.
Comments
If you get a chance, would you email me your mailing address? I'd like to send you and S our Christmas card this year (which occasionally doesn't actually make it into the mail by Christmas...but sometime around the beginning of the year). My email is nantoyara-at-yahoo. Thanks!
there are so many good italian places in that town it's staggering. I have yet to try stinking rose, but even the place we were at, washington squar bar and grill (washbag) had a pasta menu and an italian influence. Steps of Rome I will have to try. And if you guys are really up here in December...let me know. It would be great to have dinner in the city.
t
We were there last Christmas for a few days, to see "Cats" as a Christmas present for Katrina and just to enjoy the city. We did eat at the Stinking Rose (I think Mike might be right, although even mediocre food in San Fran is amazing), and tried to hit a Russian place that ended up being closed for the Orthodox Christmas observation.
We did have a good time, though. Kat loved it (it was actually her second time - we spent a day in the city with our exchange student in '03, on a trip down to Disneyland), and the weather, for December especially, was phenomenal. What a place!