My Labor Day weekend had very little to do with labor, and everything to do with long days of wandering, writing, and eating. Three lethargic days showing inquisitive and delightful Anthony around the city, and time elevating my knee, cursing my clumsiness, and trying not to cry whenever the thought of not being able to run the marathon crept into my mind. On Saturday morning, I tripped and fell while running, landed directly on my knee, and it hasn't been reacting well. It doesn't really bend. I can't stand for a long period of time, so going to the grocery store or cooking hasn't sounded like much fun. A good excuse to eat out. A lot. So on Saturday morning (post-pavement encounter), Linnea, Anthony and I all piled into the car and headed over to the Dogpatch, fast becoming my new favorite neighborhood in SF. It was once the industrial center of town (if you could call it a "center" of anything), and much industry still remains. It's gritty, it's often sunny when the rest of the city isn't, there are big deserted lots, sweet hidden galleries, independent jewelers and furniture designers, and lunch windows serving out of loading docks. It's got spunk. And it's got Serpentine, a corner restaurant on 3rd, touting "honest food and classic cocktails." And a damn fine brunch.
The Ferry Building is one of those unique places in San Francisco that locals and tourists happily share. Residents run in for a loaf of bread at Acme or some oysters from Hog Island while tourists scoop up Scharffen Berger bars and snap photos of heaping market stands. Set back towards the side where the ferry actually lets off is the small Mexican eatery, Mijita, run by chef Traci des Jardins (of Hayes Valley's Jardiniere fame). On a Thursday or a Saturday when the farmer's market is up-and-going, it's tough to get a spot at one of the coveted oil-cloth tables. However, on an off-day this week, there were plenty of free seats right by the window: perfect for a little late afternoon grazing and people watching. A nice pairing. When you walk in, notice the specials of the day are printed in the chalkboard portion below the posted menu. Ask for a printed menu: it goes into much greater detail than the listed title of the dish alone. Behind the counter, if you peep (which I did), there are orange and yellow Le Creuset pots bubbling away on the stove and colorful dishes stacked neatly, waiting for the early dinner crowd. Looking into the kitchen, it seems more like a Mexican grandmother's domain than it does a commercial production--certainly part of its charm.
Pizzaiolo 5008 Telegraph Avenue Oakland (Temescal Neighborhood) Well...I finally did it. I convinced the ladies to hop in the car and head over to Oakland to try this thin, wood fired pizza I've been hearing so much about. Now let me start by saying I'm a thin crust pizza aficionado. I worked next door to Upper Crust pizza in Boston for years and had a few too many slices for my own good. That being said, at Pizzaiolo, I thought the pizza itself was a bit overrated (and over-priced). But there are three noteworthy words I can cull from my experience that would bring me crawling right back: patio, burrata, and housemade sausage. Well, I guess that's four, but anyway... First, let me say that Pizzaiolo is damn crowded. Apparently, all of the time. And the waitstaff can be a bit self righteous about reservations. We simply called on our way over, were really nice about the fact that we realized we didn't have a chance of getting in, but...was there any chance? And voila, we had a table on the coveted, outdoor patio waiting for us as soon as we arrived. Minor magic if I do say so myself. The patio has a very Austin, TX feel for those of you who've experienced the edgy food scene there. It is all fenced in with metal siding and colorful green wood panels, there are paper lanterns hanging in a haphazard way, a sand bocce ball court where couples gathered while waiting for their pizzas, wooden benches to sit and have beers before your meal, and great live music. I felt like I was hanging out on a friend's back patio on a warm July evening--a bit of summer encapsulated.