California Highlights. (Part One)

Stories + photos from my most recent trip to San Francisco.

Kate and I head out bright and early to catch out 6 a.m. flight to Houston, TX. I have no recollection of it, as I passed out immediately once I was seated on the plane. Apparently free breakfast was offered to me. I had no idea.

We arrive in Houston. Our flight is delayed about an hour. No problem. We wander the airport for a while looking for a sufficient breakfast. I decide to purchase a breakfast stromboli. I always hate airport breakfast stromboli, but I always seem to subject myself to it whenever I have the opportunity. Can’t explain it.

Anyway. It’s about time to head to the gate. We arrive, smile at the desk attendant, and take a seat in the waiting area. I casually observe that the area is pretty empty, but we don’t think much of it. We read and play with our cameras for a while. Waiting room is still empty. Kate decides to check in with the desk attendant. Desk attendant freaks out on us. Apparently they had already boarded the gate and closed things up a while ago. And apparently it is not her job to question people that are obviously approaching and waiting on a gate, sitting within a five foot radius of her for the past 10 minutes. We tell her to chill out and let us on the plane. She complies.

Plane ride number two. I pass out again immediately, apparently missing yet another offering of free breakfast.

I wake up a few hours later to warnings that we will be approaching turbulence, perhaps due to the gargantuan storm covering the entire state of California. No biggie. We’ve all handled turbulence before.

Next thing I know, I am barfing into a bag like a damn six year old. People loved it.

We finally land, head to baggage claim to collect our goods, and prepare to leave, when Kate realizes she left her digital camera on the plane. How clever. I decide to sit on the floor in baggage claim while Kate goes to find gate passes to reenter the terminal and rescue her camera.

Camera is retrieved. We get the fuck out of the airport and hop on the train toward the city.

By the time we get off the train at Powell Station, the giant storm had completely cleared. I am famished, and am really craving vegan Asian cuisine, particularly from Golden Era. It’s really the only vegan Asian I’ve ever consumed, but regardless, I’m obsessed with it and have to eat it multiple times when I’m in SF. We head a few blocks toward the Tenderloin to find it.

Not long into the trek Kate’s rolling luggage breaks a wheel, and ceases to roll any further. She drags her giant duffel bag against the concrete for the remaining few blocks until we arrive at the restaurant.

Food is great. We stuff our faces until we are practically useless. However, we decide that it would be productive if we purchased a new bag for Kate as quickly as possible. We leave our belongings at the restaurant, and head out in search of luggage.

Soon enough, we’re back with a fresh new rolling suitcase for Kate. We repack everything casually on the floor of the restaurant, leave Kate’s old suitcase as a gift of sorts, then head on our way back into the financial district to kill time until Dakota gets off work.

Next stop is Blue Bottle Coffee Co. I am absolutely obsessed with their goods. Upon arrival, I receive the news that they are out of the coffee beans used to make my favorite iced coffee, so I end up with a baby iced americano instead.

It’s finally 5:00 and Dakota is off work. We head toward Powell to meet her. I am excited to go through my favorite alley, which is usually covered in randomly strewn orange chairs. I don’t know why, but I just really like orange furniture and concrete combined. Whatever.

Anyway, all that I found in the alley today was this. No iced coffee or orange chairs???? What kind of city is this???

We find Dakota at Powell. Our reunion is interrupted by a strange city dweller who told me I looked exactly like the woman who carried his sperm within her back to England. I quickly informed him that I was not this woman, and we headed on our way to catch up elsewhere.

Onward to the Mission, Dakota’s hood. Her new apartment is so so so great. Right beside Delores park. She was hungry, so we trekked a few blocks to a sushi spot, where we proceeded to stuff our faces yet another time.

So then there’s bi-rite. I had been to their grocery last time I was in SF, but missed out on the whole creamery deal. So I’ve basically been nerding out reading their menus online since last July, and really needed to experience it for myself at this point. We went, tried about 9 flavors total, and I decided that blood orange was the way to go. I was pleased.

Must learn to suppress the stank/primate face when on film and/or in public.

Day 2:

It’s raining again.

Dakota recommended that we head over to Tartine for breakfast. I first learned about Tartine last summer, when I was at some random pot-luck-cookout-half-birthday party in San Fran, and somebody brought some berry pastries from Tartine. I was obsessed from that point forward, and upon learning that the establishment was only a couple of blocks away from Dakota’s, I was set on going.

We were told to get the morning buns. So I did. I perhaps got a little carried away and ordered a ten dollar breakfast sandwich as well. I’m pretty sure it was worth it.

Project #2 was checking out the piers. Most of the projects we had on our to-do list I had already done last time I was here, but they are all worth seeing again, and since this was Kate’s first time in town, it was absolutely necessary.

And so began the jumping pictures.

Then we headed over to Pier 39. It feels like a glorified coastal trip to Busch Gardens.

The rain is intense and our socks are getting wet. But there are sea lions to be seen.

There wasn’t much more to see of the piers, so we headed westward to project #3: Coit Tower.

We didn’t have any plans on going in the tower itself, because it costs money and is generally anticlimactic. We just wanted to explore the hill surrounding the tower itself.

The rain conveniently stopped once we reached the top.

We noticed staircases running down the side of the hill into the woods. No reason not to walk down them.

Everything is so green here. And it’s a different green from the east. Can’t explain it.

We then wandered into the residential area surrounding the tower. Kick ass houses perched on the side of Telegraph Hill. Project #4: finding out how to either live in or have friends who live in these homes.

We continued walking down stairs for another half-hour until we finally hit level concrete. Onward to the next project.

Next stop was Jackson Place Cafe. I used to eat here all the time last summer, because it was in Dakota’s neighborhood and right across the street from her work. They have my favorite coffee ever (blue bottle new orleans iced coffee) and favorite meat ever (prociutto). The cafe is hidden in a little nook full of brick and palm trees and open flame lamps. I love.

Next stop: Haight. Full of hippies, thrifty shopping, and teenagers who pretend to be homeless after school lets out. Before curfview of course.

This was about 4 minutes before an insane hailstorm that left me and Kate completely soaked from the waist down. And broke our umbrellas.

And then we found the Grateful Dead house.

We met up with Dakota after work for dinner in the Mission. I had recently discovered that I wasn’t quite as broke as I thought I was, so I planned to reward myself with a tasty, slightly pricier SF dinner. And maybe a beer.

We decided on Monk’s Kettle. It was only a couple of blocks from Dakota’s, which I liked considering the weather was still crap.

Monk’s was on a wait, so we ended up browsing the surrounding thrifty spots around the block. First stop was Idol, which I vaguely remember exploring last July when Dakota was at work and I was wandering around the city bored.

Next stop was the bookstore next door… I also remember exploring this at some point last year. Quiet little spot… I kind of wonder how these places pay rent. The owner had just bought a couple of quiches and offered us a piece when we came in. We politely declined, to the delight of a ratty bearded fellow who continued eating the goods furiously.

I didn’t expect to purchase anything… until I ran across the book of my dreams. A gargantuan book of Philippe Starck’s work. My favorite designer. Ever. He is god to me. I immediately made the purchase and headed back to Monk’s to read it while I wait.

Monk’s was great. Very content-conscious cooking, and the greatest beer list I have EVER seen. The first page was about 50 California brews… and then continued on for another 10 pages or so. I wish I could have had the chance to explore several, but after a giant pretzel, macaroni and cheese, bbq sandwich, fries and curry aioli, I really only had room for one altbier. Then it was coma time.

I still regret not getting the Cali-brewed black currant cider. Next time I suppose.

Day three. Kate and I have a lot to explore before we head to Los Altos Hills for the night. We get up early, eat the remaining halves of our sandwiches from the night before, and head on our way.

Project 1: Tour the Academy of Art Institute’s campus. Kate had signed up for the tour of the university’s fashion design graduate program, and I was just along for the ride.

Then I started filling out a registration card. Noticed they had basically every major I have been interested in the past before deciding on pursuing a relatively uninspiring undergrad degree in public relations.

By the end of the tour, I was meeting with an admissions advisor discussing the application process. I’ll be applying to grad school in SF this week. What the fuck.

[May 09 Update: I applied. I got in. I'm moving to SF in July and starting classes in September.]

Project #2: find dim sum in Chinatown.

We don’t have dim sum in NC. Almost everyone I’ve talked to who moved from the west coast are distraught over this. Last year I managed to find a fantastic spot called Delicious Dim Sum. I am usually highly suspicious of any establishment with a positive description of their product within the name of the establishment itself. But man, this place changed my life. Nobody spoke English, and there was no menu, so I just pointed to random dumplings and the owner charged me two dollars for one of the best lunches I have EVER had. Needless to say, I was ready to revisit Chinatown.

So we arrive at Delicious Dim Sum. It is CLOSED.

NOOO.

I don’t know what to do. Of course there are approx. 342790 other dim sum restaurants in Chinatown, but it is really hard to distinguish from the good ones and the terrible ones.

We decide to make our replacement decision based on proximity. We cross the street and head into House of Dim Sum. We ordered twelve dollars worth of food. Considering my last dim sum meal was two dollars, you can only imagine how much food ended up in front of us.

We eat. We can’t finish. It is pretty terrible.

Dim sum fail 2009.