Destination #39: At The Real People Farmer's Market

I took a long bike ride one Saturday morning, further south than I’d ever been in San Francisco. Finally, after a wrong turn off of Mission Street somewhere, I happened upon about a dozen trucks and two parallel cement awnings as long as football fields bedecked in graffiti underneath Highway Two Eighty, and more Asian people than I’ve ever come across outside of China Town. This is the Alemany Farmer’s Market.

After milling about and discovering the large variety of fruits, vegetables and eggs for about half the price of the produce at the Ferry Building, I decided this was a market for real people. And I shan't forget to mention the half hatched duck embryos. The large population of toothless families confirmed this. It was surely a nice change from the Gucci adorned crowd of Embarcadero.

Of course there cannot exist a Farmer’s Market without food trucks. El Huarache Loco is number sixty on my list for their authentic Mexican street food, specifically their huarache with cactus salad.

Huarache consists of two masa (corn) based tortillas in the shape of beaver tails, stuffed with refried beans, then lightly fried. Unfortunately, the huarache I ate in this parking lot in Alemany didn’t stand up to the cold humid weather very well: Any crispiness soon diminished to a slightly soggy and chewy huarache. The salad on top was refreshing with crumbled queso fresco, fresh cilantro, and spicy chilies, although the cactus tasted a little like canned green beans.

Ok, so the huarache was not my favorite food item I’ve ever bought from a truck, but if it hadn’t been for El Huarache Loco, I probably never would’ve discovered the wonderful and inexpensive Alemany Farmer’s Market. Since this discovery, I have eaten more juicy peaches, cherries, and tangelo minneolas than I have in the last twenty-four years, and it’s barely made a dent in my wallet.

Destination #38: Eating Out The Door

My favorite activity in San Francisco has quickly turned into a trip down Market Street to its dead end at the Ferry Building, eating lunch out on the back plaza next to the water on a sunny day, and watching the gulls fly over Treasure Island. I love sharing this activity with others, so when Peter (an old friend from college) came to visit, I took him with me for an Out the Door lunch.

Out the Door is the take-out fast food version of the fancy Vietnamese fusion restaurant, Slanted Door. Vietnamese food constantly excites me… the idea of it, eating it, talking about it, cooking it. The thought of eating Out the Door’s Vietnamese food on the Ferry Building patio sounds a little like paradise. Out the Door’s chicken rice porridge made it to number fifty-six on the list.

Sitting in the sunshine on a bench with my plastic one-quart vat of porridge, the first bite was delightful. It had a mildly sweet and gingery zing, much like the tofu pudding my Vietnamese host mom used to buy me for breakfast from the Tofu Lady in Can Tho. The fried shallots and fresh spring onion added a variety of crisp textures. After several bites in, when the fried shallots were gone, the porridge lost its zing and I started craving protein, or at least something besides soupy rice. That’s when I discovered stringy pieces of overcooked white meat chicken sitting at the bottom of my porridge.

Eating half of the porridge that Out the Door served was too much. I didn’t even bother taking my leftovers home, which for a cheapskate as myself is something of a revelation. The pork steamed buns are what should’ve made the list: Hot, salty and sweet juicy pork inside a cloud-light bun. Perhaps it was a mistake to take a bite of this wildly tasty bun in the midst of eating my very mildly flavored chicken goop.

Either way, one goopy experience was not enough to deter me from Out the Door. I will just stay away from Asian porridge dishes from now on.

Destination #37: Gooey Steamy Bar Snacks

I have a small obsession with the Bravo TV show Top Chef. After discovering one of the Top Chef contestants was a chef at Absinthe, I couldn’t wait to go to try out number thirty-six on my list.

I met two friends at Absinthe in Hayes Valley for some R&R after a hard week at the restaurant. It turned out to be the priciest restaurant I will have visited in San Francisco so far. Although the dining room is dark, romantic, and quiet, the neon backlit bar and fabulous cocktails give the place a little bit of a funkier and relaxed feel.

After the talk around town of Absinthe’s fantastic food and pricey menu, I couldn’t understand why their most famous menu item is a bar snack… the soft garlic pretzels. It only took one bite for me truly understand.

Four small puffy round pretzels came wafting through the dining room to our table, leaving behind a trail of steam. Pulling one pretzel apart revealed the gooiest inside, similar to a buttery garlic bread. The pretzel was delicious, but the side of Vermont Cheddar mornay turned my pretzel to the most unctuous snack. The mornay was a béchamel style tangy, boozy fondue-like cheese.

There was no way we were stopping at a bar snack. The potato crusted Arctic Char and the whole golden trout that Steph and Sally ordered blew out of the water almost every fish dish I had ever ordered in a restaurant. The flavors were vibrant and the textures varied with the crisp skin and the soft plump flesh. My pork loin was a bit dry as I typically assume pork loin to be. I ordered this dish hoping Absynthe might change my preconceptions of the loin. I also ordered it because the dish came with a sous-vide pork belly beside the loin. (Pork belly is like crack for me. I cannot resist it.) The dish was seasoned perfectly and had the most wonderful balance of flavor with the sweet carrot puree and the savory pork jus.

Even after the mind-blowing fish dishes and my to-die-for pork belly, those little pretzels were still the highlight of a meal. I never thought that a bar snack would be the winning component to a fifty-five dollar meal.