Final Day! San Francisco: Noe Valley, The Mission, Castro and The Embarcadero; Nopa

Breakfast at Tartine: Morning Glory bun, Open-faced Croque, Chocolate Ganache, Shortbread, Gougeres (chou pastry with cheese) with Four Barrel coffee. Rebecca and John also had a fantastic rustic-looking bread pudding. Spotted several "Zooey Deschanels" working the counter at Tartine.

Walked all around town, tucked into Maido, a Japanese knick-knack store, to buy some pencil cases.

Lunch at Ferry Building: ran across a tasty fermented whey drink ("Drinkwell Softers") flavored with rose-geranium extract, decided we needed to resuscitate drinking whey. Decided to forgo the Porchetta sandwich at Roli-Roti (in spite of John/Rebecca kindly offering to wait in line for us) as we had enough pork en route to SF. Took out assorted goodies from Delica including salmon rice ball, spicy tuna roll, vegetarian roll, fried chicken, hijiki seaweed salad, spinach salad and burdock salad. John had a beet sandwich. Purchased some honey as gifts. Gautam scarfed an organic, grass-fed-beef, nitrate-free hotdog on Acme bun at Let's Be Frank.

Afternoon snack: Sidecar with toast at home

Cocktail and Dinner at Nopa: tried various cocktails with quinine-infused spirits. Appetizers: bacon-wrapped-nectarines, fish-and-chips, fried green beans, fried little fish. Main: Hamburger (Gautam) and Roasted duck (Masako). Wine: bottle of Domaine de Belliviere (only to have it written up in the Times exactly 2 days later! . Dessert: Sopaipillas with chocolate sauce, plus Calvados.  The sopaipillas at Nopalita (coincidentally named) in Las Cruces were a lot better.  But Nopa in SF rocked; the meal, the cocktails and hanging out with John and Rebecca.

Evening: took Emerson out for a walk together, filled gas, dropped off the car (4500 miles!) and flew home to Niskayuna.

San Francisco!

In the middle of the night, Masako noticed Emerson coming into our room and making circles on the bed, right next to her. He then settled in a coil next to her and fell asleep. Not knowing dog culture -- but knowing that the dogs Gautam used to babysit (Chloe and Kody) sometimes used to hop onto the bed in winter -- Masako jostled Gautam and asked him what was going on. Gautam informed Masako that dogs like to check out their environment before tucking in for the night--and that they do that by walking in tight circles. Emerson remained next to Masako until his morning walk at 5am. When he came back, he slept in a line at our feet.

John kindly took the day off to hang out with us. He'd pre-ordered a special loaf of bread from Tartine for breakfast. We did not fully appreciate this stroke of kindness until we later passed by Tartine and saw the line stretching around the block.  

Tartine and Mrs. Londons (in Saratoga Springs, NY) are undoubtedly the most sublime bakeries in the United States.  Each in their own way, these two temples of bread and pastry bake products and nurture a culture that is peerless--even across much of the world.  Certainly most of the baguettes-even the pain ancienne- in France have fallen the way of commercial bread machines and quick rise yeasts and many of the croissants and pastries simply no longer use the quality of ingredients that these two places use.  They can't afford to and the consumer no longer cares having fallen for the muse of quantity without quality. No less than  Rose Levy Beranbaum recently wrote a snippet arguing that the plain croissant (a 64 layer creation of butter and flour) at Mrs. London's is the best she's ever had, anywhere, period.  And she knows a few things about bread products.

Back at home, John and Gautam cut the Tartine loaf and toast it for breakfast.

At 10am, we embarked on a walking tour about the immediate neighborhood, eating and window-shopping until 4pm. First on the agenda was coffee at Four Barrel, a hipster hangout where each cup is ground and drip-brewed to order, using analog Japanese equipment. Wearing dark jeans and cool sneakers alone would not buy any street cred at Four Barrel: we saw a guy wearing a fringed leather poncho and a gal wearing a stylized version of Amelia Earhart's flying outfit. No doubt, we were the most corporate (and among the fattest) customers in the store.  The trophy heads decorating this place were made of plastic, in contrast to the authentic taxidermized deer heads we saw embellishing various restaurants in the South.

We saw the smallest Whole Foods in the country (Noe Valley) and compared it to the largest (Austin, HQ).
For lunch, we went to variants of two old favorites: Outthedoor, a casual outpost of the Vietnamese restaurant Slanted Door, and the second/newer outpost of Pizzeria Delfina.

We saw the owner of Delfina at the satellite store -- a good sign! We grazed to save room for subsequent meals. At Outthedoor, we had papaya salad, Imperial spring rolls and grilled shrimp vermicelli. At Delfina, we shared one pizza (spring onion, pig jowl and crema) and one charcuterie plate (lardo and other tidbits).

We browsed at Bi-rite, candy store, interior decoration store, furniture stores, etc.

After our lunches took two buses back home to check up on the FedEx package of Black's BBQ that we'd had shipped.

We then ducked in for a mid-afternoon snack at El Metate for some beef and pork tacos, the tastiest Mexican food we've had on our trip so far, with plenty of fresh condiments and no thick blanket of beans or cheese.

John prepared a tasty pre-dinner drink with Chartruese, Tequila and oodles of fresh ingredients hand-mashed with a pestle: strawberry, red jalapeno, ginger and lemon picked off the tree in the backyard. It was both complex and refreshing, almost like a liquid gazpacho.

We had dinner at a popular Peruvian roasted chicken place called Limon. All the tables were full when we got there and there was a line out the door by the time we left. The star of the show: roasted chicken with dipping sauces and (starchy) side dishes, all meant for sharing. We also had some refreshing ceviche. As a token nod to the vegetable kingdom, we also ordered a Peruvian root salad, which bore an uncanny resemblance to Russian salad Olivier. Many of the younger patrons sported "looks" including "The Zooey Deschanel" (thick fringe of brunette bang, white skin, doe-eyed makeup, fluffy skirt) and "The John /Sean Lennon" (dense beard, round glasses).

Summary
Breakfast: Tartine's bread at home
Coffee: Four Barrel
Lunches: Out the Door (outpost). Defina (2nd branch)
Snack: El Matate (Mexican)
Pre-dinner drink: Chartruese, Tequila with muddled strawberries, red chili, ginger and fresh lemon
Dinner: Limon (Peruvian chicken, ceviche, root vegetable salad)

Dessert: Tartine's bread toast with chocolate, olive oil, sea salt and orange zest; madeira

Final Leg: Mammouth Lakes to Yosemite to San Francisco

We got off to a late start and had a quick brunch at an organic coffee store a few doors down from the hotel. We ordered a turkey BLT and a vegan quinoa salad with avocado, carrots, beets and tomatoes (complete with Braggs and nutritional yeast). It was restorative and a good reminder that provided regular access to such foods, we'd probably be eating a whole lot more of it. We also got a few bottles of kombucha, the fermented wonder drink, for the road. Masako noticed that the size of the kombucha bottle was approximately twice what it used to be 10 years ago.

After brunch, we departed for Yosemite National Park. The town of Mammoth Lakes abuts Inyo National Forest, which in turn melds with Yosemite (and many other national parks and forests) forming a megaforest. Mammoth Lakes is rimmed with a background landscape of pine trees and fluorescent-white snow-capped mountains. We decided to go to Yosemite via the Tioga Pass, starting at Mono Lake. We gradually ascended toward the "background landscape" until we could make snowballs. Near Tioga Lake, at almost 10000 feet, the outside temperature was only 70 degrees, far cooler than the sweltering heat wave in upstate New York.

We saw dozens of identical CruiseAmerica.com a.k.a. 1800-RV4-RENT vehicles in Yosemite, the name-brand of choice among RV'ers in Zion, as well. While we ourselves would not choose to take all those hairpin curves (steep dropoffs, no guard rail) in an RV, we were struck by the audacity of the many do-it-your-selvers.

We told John we'd make it to San Francisco by evening, so we had an abbreviated snack of protein bars and headed toward one of the shortest trails in the park: Lower Yosemite Falls. 

Gently graded, completely paved and generously apportioned, the trail is wheelchair/stroller-friendly and perfect for families. And families did we see: Indians, Koreans, orthodox Jews, Europeans, Africans, very pregnant women, toddlers and the elderly. The trail was egalitarian, as was its appeal: there were hundreds of tourists crowded around the Falls, but the visceral impact of the roar, the spray and the gust was surprisingly personal.

For dinner, we stopped by Hula's "The Best Burger in the Valley" for a BLT/fries (Gautam) and strawberry smoothie (Masako). Masako was tired of junk food but conceded that the BLT looked like the real deal, with toasted bread, generous pile of hearty bacon, thick-slices of tomato and plenty of fresh romaine. The fries were knobby and tasty. The smoothie was made with plenty of fresh fruit and not much else, no yogurt or ice cream. The town was full of orchards, groves and fields of all sorts (orange, peach, strawberries, grapes) in all stages of maturity, including some plots cultivating little saplings. This agricultural bounty was evident even in this drive-through/take-out burger joint. The misters on the outside patio were a nice touch, especially on a hot day.

We knew we had traveled a long way and knew we had had many exciting experiences, but frankly every time we drive over the Golden Gate into the San Francisco regional area our pulse quickens.  There really are just two places in this country where people are pushing to understand why we eat and what we eat and this area is one of those places.  Kermit Lynch famously said about 10 years ago that the markets in Berkeley and the food in the region are better than those in Provence-and he's lived there as well for over 30 years.

The Golden Gate that night was fabulously lit and warmly welcomed us.

We arrived at John and Rebecca's house in Noe Valley at 9:30, the prior 15 minutes spent finding a parking spot. Given the rules of street cleaning and resident-only parking, we have to move the car by 10am. No worries there -- we're eager to get a start on our 1st day in San Francisco.

Favorite soundtrack of the day: Olafur Arnalds (Tunglio) a 23 year old Icelandic musician.  Thank goodness for NPR and satellite radio.