LUNCH: Due to my impending move to the east coast, everyone keeps asking me what I’ll miss most. I am realizing that honor might go to the teeny Sunday Farmer’s Market at Fort Mason, not because I buy that much from it (no need to cheat on my CSA box) but because of the Chaac Mool stand. For those of you trying to plan fun things like “Let’s eat all the tacos in SF and see which one is the best!” – go fuck yourselves because this is the best taco on earth. Make sure you get the carnitas taco. It will come out to your sunny picnic table on a small Dixie plate. The tortilla will be hot, with the underside slightly crunchy. The pork will be insanely juicy, and with a dollop of their neon-green hot sauce on top of their green salsa verde, oh god! I’m foaming at the mouth, either from saliva overload or because I just had a seizure from thinking about this taco.
R2 always also gets a tamal (you have two options – veggie or pollo). Why does he do this??? Doesn’t he KNOW that our time is ruuuuunning OOUUT? Any jaw movement not used toward masticating a carnitas taco is a shameful waste!
Reasons the tamal is not as good as the taco: (1) I wish cotija cheese had more sharpness; as it stands it doesn’t add to the combination; (2) moistness varies from week to week, whereas taco is absolutely stellar in its gushy-ness 52 weeks of the year; (3) it’s just not the taco.
So run run run to the Farmer’s Market on Sunday! We can elbow each other in line to fight for the first taco.
BLUNCH: If you wake up on the spaghetti-and-meatballs side of the bed, go to Caffe Delucchi. I mean, have you seen such a perfectly representative specimen? I got this with their slightly-more-expensive housemade fresh pasta, which upped the delectableness a thousandfold. R2 was staring at it, and I guessed that he was either (a) lusting after my perfect plate of satisfying comfort or (b) wanting to recreate the Lady & the Tramp scene but not asking because he knew I would say no.
He ordered well, too.
I don’t know why the polenta looks yellower than a banana (foreshadowing!), but there you go. This is Polenta with Pulled Pork: hot, soft polenta topped with pulled pork in a lightly spicy marinara sauce and poached eggs. This alliteratively pleasing dish was the kind of thing (if not for the egg-hatred) I would go bananas (foreshadoween!!) over. R2 squished the eggs, stirred, and created dripping, hearty spoonfuls over and over again. Quite awesome.
3 PM SNACK: I am like the little guys from Despicable Me when it comes to bananas. Banana cream pie and banana Laffy Taffy (soo silky soft!) are my two favorite banana foods. We went to Chile Pies & Ice Cream and pretty much died when we ate this. Well, *I* did. I think R2 is just saying he loves pie so that I will think he’s cool.
This is a tre blogworthy pie, and what prompted our visit. It’s their signature Green Chile Apple Pie with cheddar crust and walnut streusel topping with organic vanilla ice cream and red chile honey drizzle. I longed for it to be even more salty or spicy or otherwise weird and exciting, but it was just a slightly crunchier (on account of the chiles) apple pie. Basically it couldn’t stand up to the sheer lusciousness and creamy satisfaction of the banana cream pie so eating it became a chore.
HANGOVER CURE: This is an R2 find – Shalimar on Polk. It’s just a no-nonsense, almost-divey Indian joint. There is no better cure for dizzy, miserable nausea than an order of their chicken tikka masala. The oily grease that floats on top fills in the holes in your soul and soothes your raggedy stomach lining. It’s not just the grease – Indian spices were basically made by God/Brahma to cure hangovers. Caraway, cardamom, coriander, cumin, fennel, and ginger calm the stomach and turmeric contributes to liver detox. As I sit in exactly such a state on a plane right at this moment, I find myself wanting to stick a straw into the screen. Instead, I will have to placate my raging, impending vomminess with one of Virgin’s bullshit “meals” of pita chips + 5-hour energy. At least I successfully switched to an aisle seat (I lied and said I was eight weeks pregnant and needed to be able to quickly escape to the bathroom on account of my morning sickness. Going to hell much?).
Fort Mason Farmer’s Market
San Francisco, CA 94109
Green Chile Pie & Ice Cream
601 Baker Street
San Francisco, CA 94117
1409 Polk Street
San Francisco, CA 94109