San Francisco Day 2

Looking at my photos, I have to admit this day was mostly about food. But in our defense, it was Saturday, and that always means farmers market morning, even on vacation! We had been admonished by foodie friends not to miss the one at the Ferry Plaza, so off we went.

Since one of my multiple jobs back home is with a small bakery, I had to check out the variety offered here. In summary, there was a lot of it.

 

The seasons are different here than in North Carolina, but there are also some crops I’ve never seen at our markets back home any time of the year.

 

Artichokes are a type of thistle, and I guess this is what happens when you don’t harvest them in time.

 

After working our way through the whole place, we took a long walk up to Fisherman’s Wharf, made stop in a cheesy souvenir shop, then we met up with my older cousin. He had offered to drive us around a bit, so our first point of order was a short trip across the iconic Golden Gate Bridge.

 

And while I hate photos of myself, and this isn’t an especially good one of either of us, here’s proof that we were there. Also, if you look closely you can see evidence of the excellent sunburn I was working on that day.

 

After our photo op, Miss Chef was dying for a good burrito in the Mission District, and my cousin had a favorite dive to take us, called El Farolito. There was a short line, but we food fanatics enjoyed the show while we waited. (This is where the video was supposed to go, but YouTube isn’t cooperating, so you just get a still photo.)

For the rest of the afternoon we walked a bit around the neighborhood and down Valencia Blvd, then eventually drove home to change for dinner and pick up a couple of other diners. Our destination tonight was Zuni Café, right on Market Street.

Now this was the day after the Supreme Court decision on same-sex marriage, and the beginning of San Francisco’s Pride celebration, so along the way we saw lots of rainbow accessories, pink tutus (on both sexes), and the occasional body paint in lieu of actual clothing. All in good fun, if often accompanied by a slurred word here or a stumbling gait there. Anyway, I thought the hostess stand at the restaurant was charming.

As to the food, we had also been admonished to absolutely order the roasted chicken, which is cooked and served atop fresh, schmaltz-soaked bread. One order is supposed to serve two, so four of us got two orders. Which (to skip ahead a bit) fed the family for the next several days. Loooots of leftovers.

And here’s the happy dinner gang: me, Miss Chef, my younger cousin who I’d met for the first time an hour before this photo was taken, my older cousin and his girlfriend. And my ripening sunburn.

The remainder of the evening’s entertainment came in the form of the streams of revelers along the sidewalks as we got stuck in traffic. More tutus and body paint, more stumbling gaits, but all in good cheer. I was just glad I wasn’t driving!

I’m breaking this down into daily segments, so if you want even more, here’s Day 1.