(first of a quick wrap-up series on San Fran)
I killed two birds at this place one Wednesday night in SF, meeting a girl from my food writing class, then a girl I used to work with 10 years ago.
I had never met Alanna before, as our class was online, but I wanted to find out how competitive the Bay Area food writing scene is. Turns out she’s a party in a box, a fast-talking hipster hurricane. I started drinking green tea and making small talk, quickly progressing to strong cocktails like the Diablo (tequila, creme de cassis, lime juice, ginger ale) and rowdy conversation. Alanna was a regular (“I got so wasted here last weekend, I’m surprised they let me back in!”) and the bartender gave us a free prosciutto and arugula pizza that was made on accident.
By the time my old friend Lucy showed up, I was already full of pizza and half drunk on cocktails. I tried to be a good listener but there was tequila in my ears. I do remember that Lucy works for Pixar and was proudly attending the premiere of Toy Story 3 that weekend. We ate a second pizza and speculated on the grizzled urban cowboy at the end of the bar who was delicately arranging a vase of flowers.
This was a promising night. SK and I plan to host weekly invitation-only dinners (“Two for Tuesdays”) and Alanna and Lucy are both prime candidates.