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Yes, yes, we all know the mis-quote from Mark Twain about San Francisco summers. That line might seem charming to non-residents in an “Oh, lovely, kooky, charming, San Francisco” way, but when you live here, it’s no laughing matter.
Every summer, without fail, the fog descends. Early mornings and early evenings are blanketed in a creeping gloom that renders everything damp, grey and singularly mysterious.
But, this doesn’t mean we can’t do a mean summer picnic. Even in the evening. And in the middle of the city. Here’s what we made on a recent jaunt to an open air screening of my favorite film, When Harry Met Sally, in Union Square. It was FREEZING, so we needed to keep warm, with sausages, fajitas and good red wine! Plus guac, because in San Francisco, you can’t really have a picnic without avocado:
I’ve been on a frugal kick lately. Partly due to starting to explore new career options, partly because I wanted to get healthier, (and delicious restaurants and I had been seeing waaaay too much of each other), and partly because it seems like a good time to take stock and re-balance, in all areas of my life.
One of the great things about deciding to be more mindful financially, is that you have to get more creative. And that can force you out of your comfort zone and into new things. Which is not just good for your wallet, but also good for your mind and spirit. And yes, it can also lead to you talking like you just spent three months at an ashram, “om”ing your way through each day.
But as it turns out, yoga is one of those activities you can enjoy for free in this fair city of ours. And no, I don’t mean by playing that DVD that you got free with a long-distant issue of Shape magazine and trying not to choke on fur balls as you downward dog on that rug you haven’t cleaned since you decided that actually seeing its original color might make a nice change. I mean a real, live yoga class, with great instructors, in fabulous locations. Free!!
First up, Lombardi Sports on Polk and Jackson does an awesome rooftop yoga class, every Sunday at 11:00am. Completely free of charge (they want you to wander downstairs afterward and drop dough on a snowboard – Don’t do it! Resist!), and with amazing views of the city on a clear day. This is a great way to greet the second half of the weekend, and a really enjoyable class.
Athleta, the fancy new women’s fitness store on Fillmore Street, also does a pretty good selection of free classes, ranging from Yoga and Pilates, to Kickboxing and a regular running club (too chicken to try that one, but maybe some day. I imagine it to be full of ruddy-cheeked, tight-limbed over-achievers in Spandex.) This is a great new marketing trick among the premium fitness brands, and San Francisco, home to some of the most disgustingly healthy people in the world, has caught on quick.
And my favorite, although not strictly in the “100% free” category, is Tuesday night yoga in Grace Cathedral. Yes, inside that beautiful building. On my first visit, I was quite overwhelmed by my surroundings, and once I’d experienced it, I couldn’t believe that all yoga didn’t take place in such an awe-inspiring, cool, spiritual environment. This class includes live music too, and is just a great way to re-set after a long day. And I don’t know about you, but Tuesdays are always pretty intense for me at work. The class is donation-based if you can afford it (so you should and I do because you can), enabling those who are really in need to get a free hour of peace and happiness, with the odd laugh thrown in. Yes, you can tell jokes at a yoga class! And this being San Francisco, of course the teacher (who is excellent), reads the meditation off his iPad. Would you expect anything less?
Photo credit: Labyrinth Yoga
Well, strictly speaking, over the bridge from San Francisco. Marin is home to a number of things that make my heart sing.
The Pelican Inn - a little bit of England on the West Coast, is one of them, and Rick and I had an amazing staycation there on Friday night. Dinner in a pub, followed by sleeping in a lush Four Poster bed, and waking up to great coffee and a rare Full English, with the glorious May sun streaming through without a cloud in the sky? Gorgeous. Like a warm bath for your soul.
Although a strenuous hike had been on the cards, in the end we opted for a scenic ramble to Green Gulch Farm and Zen Center. I’ve often wondered about this place, driving past, and wanted to go explore. This place is amazing and I can’t wait to go back. It’s like a Zen oasis in the middle of the city – all the cliches about only being able to hear the birds sing, or noticing a butterfly alight on a rose bush, are all true at this place.
There is zero cell reception. Which for two people who pretty much breathe in synch with the “new email” notification on their iPhone, was at once completely relaxing and yet still oddly stressful. But, as it was Saturday morning, and we both remembered that we are in fact NOT brain surgeons, we went with the flow.
Green Gulch Farm is Buddhist in practice and runs regular meditation classes – something I have an emerging interest in, and would like to explore. So i’m sure we’ll be back. In the meantime, here are some pics from the farm:
Here’s what I’m craving:
Fresh white corn
Firm, slightly green tomatoes:
(Photo credit: er, me…)
Fresh basil, avocados and best of all…
Purple bell peppers. How could I not have known these things existed? Thanks to the farmers market at Fillmore:
(Photo credit: Molly Watson)
Combined, most of these ingredients make the dish Rick and I have been living off for weeks now. Sunset Magazine’s stupendous Corn and Avocado Salad. Here’s a picture of it to make your mouth water:
(Photo credit: Annabelle Breakey, c/o Sunset Magazine)
Of course, for the aesthetes among us, the colors will also inspire. But for all of us, the taste will just really amaze. I will be quite beside myself when the season ends! Here’s the recipe. Dead easy and the dressing is beyond. I added the purple bell pepper after spotting and smelling them at the market. Smoky, a little sweet. Delicious!
Rick and I just spent a great weekend mixing out and out gluttony with fresh air and exercise. This saw us take in numerous fabulous restaurants, including upscale BBQ joint Wexlers, and the old faithful, Luna Park (tip, follow them on Twitter for exclusive discount codes), as well as new brunch fave, Out The Door (soy sauce on fried eggs? Oh the deliciousness! And the beignets and iced coffee??). However, we also managed a fairly punishing 5 miler around Angel Island and Sunday saw us take miles in our stride in our pursuit of iced, creamy perfection. We were on the hunt for the best ice-cream that San Francisco had to offer…
While having dinner at Wexlers on Saturday night, Rick chose the root beer float, with root beer ice cream provided by that quirky SF gem, Humphry Slocombe. HS is a great, independent ice cream store in the heart of the Mission, and we’ve both been longing to go for months. The name? If you’re British, you might recognize it as a mas-up of two beloved characters from 80s kitsch comedy “Are You Being Served?” It’s a memory i’ve long blanked out of my mind 
So, this was our challenge. Did Humphry Slocombe have the best ice-cream in the city? Or did that honor fall to the other Mission classic, Birite Creamery? And yes, before you say it, i know that it’s kinda lame to only visit two ice cream stores. In our defense, it was hot, we walked miles between each one, and we wanted to end the weekend not weighing the equivalent of a baby elephant!
Both stores absolutely nailed the concept: individual tastes, artisanal flavors, local ingredients and quirky, fun takes on classic ice-cream flavors. All served up with a healthy dose of San Francisco hipster. Natch.
At Birite, fave raves were the Meyer Lemon, Roasted Banana, and Salted Caramel. Clean, bright flavors, really suckering you with their key ingredient. I could have happily eaten my entire pot of roasted banana, but it was time to hit the road and walk it off, en route to the next.
Over at Humphry Slocombe, things took a decidedly left turn. Rick sampled the Boccalone Prosciutto (yes, really) and settled on the Secret Breakfast (Bourbon and cornflakes, obviously), while i tried the Blue Bottle coffee and Balsamic Caramel. All a lot more left-field, and while most of the flavors did really work, it was a little harder to eat a lot of them. I think these are meant for sampling and tasting, not downing by the pint. Of course, i would never down ice-cream by the pint…
My winner? Birite Creamery. I love unusual flavors, but i also really like to enjoy ice-cream that tastes like really great ice-cream, and not like some very clever person has put together some unusual tastes on my tongue. Rick is more of an adventurist (watch him go crazy over foams!), but for me, the roasted banana and salted caramel at Birite were just out of this world. A little slice of heaven on a sunny Sunday morning. Perfect.
I was treated to a wonderful surprise evening on Saturday, when Rick took me to the San Francisco Parlour Opera. For the uninitiated (and that included me!), the Parlour Opera is dedicated to bringing opera to you in a much more intimate, relatable way. Kind of like a micro-opera for the masses.
Each opera is staged in someone’s home, and this performance of Massenet’s Thaïs was at a wonderful, wonderful Victorian mansion on Fell Street. I actually had no idea homes like this existed in San Francisco, but now I’ve seen how the other half live, I’m green with envy! It was like stepping back in time to the age of Gosford Park. Minus the servants, of course.
Walking in, we were greeted with delicious wine, and took our seats in the drawing room. The action moved around all night, and we saw a couple of acts outside in the garden, from balcony seats on the outside stairs! Luckily we were dressed up warm. The small cast was excellent, and an English-speaking narrator kept us on track when we couldn’t understand all the French. Having never been to the opera before, this was a great way to be introduced to it, and better still, the night ended with dessert and mingling with the performers. What a fabulous evening.
Of course, one of the best bits for me was the opportunity to look around such an incredible house. As a lover of the macabre, I particularly appreciated a few more sinister decorative touches, as my photos show.
If you have the chance, the Parlour Opera is one of those great San Francisco experiences. I had the chance to be exposed to opera without feeling intimidated or overwhelmed and it was a lot of fun. Bravo!
Most people that know me, know i have a healthy sense of the macabre. So it’s not surprise that i LOVE the annual Halloween decorations around my neighborhood:
More pics to come, and a proper download of the day, but for now, one of my favorite “unofficial” pics of our wedding day, October 9, 2009. Good times!
Now that we’re full steam ahead on our very San Francisco City Hall/SATC style wedding, I’ve become a little obsessed with finding other couples that have also done it in style!
Here’s my latest favorite – Iris and Geoff – via Weddingbee.com. These photos were shot a while ago, but what a great day! Looked like zero fuss and stress, but maximum style and pleasure, all topped off with a lunch at The Slanted Door no less! We are heading to Spruce, which has possibly my favorite cocktail in the whole world (apart from The Girl And The Fig’s First Street Cosmo of course!), the Fresa Fresca. Basil, black pepper, fresh strawberries and premium tequila are the key ingredients – wonderful! And added bonus, as my dress will be black, no risk of tear-inducing spillage once the drinks move to another bar later on
I hope the weather’s as great as they had it, but regardless, it’s all getting very exciting!
Iris and Geoff via Wedding Bee (Michael Corsentino - photo credit)
So, Friday night found me at the Kabuki movie theater in San Francisco, balcony seat, glass of white wine in one hand, buttered popcorn in the other (surely the greatest gastronomic combination ever?), sinking into a plush seat, after a long week.
I was there to watch The September Issue, the fabulous new documentary about the months leading up to the September issue of American Vogue. In fashion world, that particular month’s issue is like all the Christmases come at once. It has that back to school freshness, that feeling of wanting a whole new stylin’ wardrobe for those rare, but exceptional, perfect Fall days, and has all the high-end advertisers clamoring for space.
The ostensible reason for people to be interested in the film, apart from the fabulous fashions, was to peek at the famed, and feared, editor in chief Anna Wintour. Ms Wintour is a feisty Brit who was rumored to be the inspiration for Meryl Streep’s character in The Devil Wears Prada. Indeed. I caught sight of her once, while having brunch at Balthazar in NYC, and there was quite the aura of fabulousness around her, even at 11:00am on a Sunday!
And it didn’t disappoint on that count. The documentary maker, RJ Cutler, did an excellent job of probing beneath the well manicured veneer, without disturbing even one of the very well groomed hairs on Ms Wintour’s head. Everything was very polished and very presentable. But that spoke volumes. And not always in a positive way. One of her opening quotes, which involved something about ‘women who wear K-Mart blue jeans’ struck a wincing tone with most of us, still mired in recessionary thinking, and wondering if we’ll ever come out of it.
But there was another star of the show. Vogue’s creative director, Grace Coddington, a wild-haired, strong-willed Welsh wonder, who quietly stole every scene she was in, despite a professed reluctance to take part in it at all. Grace is clearly from the old school. The days before celebrities made the cover of every fashion magazine, and before advertisers ruled the runway. In every scene, Grace lets you know, very quietly, but with oh so much passion, that she is in charge of artistic inspiration at Vogue. Anna Wintour is in charge of business, Grace is in charge of making it beautiful, and it works brilliantly together. Even something as superficial as a fashion shoot made me quite teary-eyed when viewed through the still starry-eyed lens of Grace.
And that’s before we even get to the comedy relief provided by Andre Leon Talley. I’m not quite what he does at Vogue, but it’s fabulous. Taking a tennis lesson, while draped in in Louis Vuitton, he just oozes unnecessary glamour, and you gotta love him for it.
I loved this documentary, because I love fashion, and I actually love the entire ridiculousness of it. It’s fantastic, escapist relief when things are a little bleak, and you just need to look at something fabulous. And what can be more fabulous than sitting down with the September issue of Vogue?
