Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Saused

Snacks in paper sacks and rosé in transport to SEA. Dbl bloody's. A 5:30p flight to SFO. Red & I had stumbled on the lip of Farley Bar on a past trip, the night inky black, with overhead heaters, a musty wine in ice bucket, and the dim, crusted red of the golden gate almost at hands reach, just there. So good that it was the first place we wanted to take our four friends. A bitter night, swaddled in fleece & heat lamp, the service was dreadful, a constant rush & reminder of the closing hour. They shut the lamps off as we ate. Us six were in and out before a table of two; the service imprinted on the food, the experience. A 2014 Paul Hobbs Russian River chardonnay was a sweet, soft kiss on the shit service.

Jed Steele's condo in sausalito is my favorite landing place. With Bladerunner on silent, we had a Steele tasting, then climbed the stairs to bed.

In the morning the men went for groceries, made eggs, ham, biscuits with goat cheese, sliced apples and coffee.
Drove to Sonoma, to Hanzell, where we had an escorted tour of the vineyards that radiate a full circle on the slope of a hill, stopping to finger the green, to see the white puppies, the geese and goats. The original Ambassador's 1953 vineyard, Zellerbach, de Brye, Ramos & Sessions, missing the barrel aging cave.
"Tucked into a nook on the steep hillside of Sonoma Mayacamas mountain range, Hanzell Vineyards sits with a quiet elegance overlooking the valley of Sonoma. Hanzell is an iconic and historic property that includes 46 acres of planted vineyards, 6 acres of residences with gardens, and 148 acres of oak woodland..."
Seated inside the Heritage Winery, sipping Sebella chardonnay ('15), with its lifted floral aromas of orange blossom and honeysuckle, its flavor of white peach, golden delicious, kumquat, lemon zest and wet graphite. To the chardonnay ('14), smelling of lemon verbena, bosc pear and hazelnut. Flavors or pear, thyme and a saline character. To the pinot noir ('14) in dried cherry, blackberry bramble, orange peel, cherry tobacco, cedar, sandalwood, cardamom, pink peppercorn and forest floor. Finishing with the Sebella noir ('15).
In our family van, to the small city at the foot of the mounds, to El Moleno Central, where you stand in a wavering line in a minimal room, the back corner reserved for the mistress de tortillas. We grab cold Modelos y Pacificos from the open face chiller; the cashier pops the caps at the register. Chicken enchiladas suizas, green, with pickled vegetable relish y mole and ceviche con halibut.
We careen in a cloud of dirt to a roadside fruit and vegetable stand for avocado honey sticks, peaches, apples, watermelon. Fill our van trunk with produce.
Siestas before Giants. We drop off Cousin & Neil on the side of the road so they can taste their way though Haight. A cluster of skateboarders with feelgood smiles weave in and out of the thick traffic line, grab hold of bumpers. A nippy air, made nippier by the cold IPA in hand. Cubano sandwich. Final score 2-10, the Giants win over Philly.
A man with machines for hands blows bubbles, thick & iridescent against the night. Mission District for a late dinner at the Monk's Kettle: bier, berlinerweiss, burgers & pretzels. Back home a mouserat has nibbled on our peaches. Red & I fall asleep with two full glasses of zinfandel on our matching bedside tables.
The mouserat found the peaches on top of the fridge, through a leap we can't fathom. Neil, Adam &a Red rent mountain bikes and tour the Marin Headlands while I run 19 miles, all of us disoriented in the thick fog, circling repeatedly, distorted by depth.
To inner Richmond, Presidio Heights, Eternal Springs, to tide us over before Burma Superstar; no reservations - first come first. Munching pork banh mi's and chugging Vietnamese coffee on the side of the street. Ciders at Stein. Name at Burma, we're on hold for an hour - to Bitter End, a dark thing, with deer heads draped in scarfs, old faux christmas gifts, bulbs and disco balls aglitter.
"San Francisco has one of the largest Burmese communities in the country, and no spot is better (or faster growing) than Burma Superstar on Bubble tea-happy Clement Street (there are also outposts in Alameda and Oaklan, should you stray across the bay). Start with a tea-leaf salad (tossed at the table), and then get a mix of curries, stir fries, noodle dishes, and stews (Burmese food borrows from Indian, Chinese, and Thai). The pumpkin pork stew is so delicious and soothing, it'll make you wish it was freezing out. But it won't be. It'll be 55 degrees. It's always 55 degrees here. You don't even need Google Maps for this one; Just watch for the huddle of people queuing for Burma's legendary garlic noodles and samusa soup." (The VICE Guide to San Francisco)

Deep fried Burmese samosas (hand wrapped and filled with curried potatoes), served with the house red sauce. Lettuce cups with cured pork and shiitake, pickled radish, carrots and water chestnut. Oh Noh Causer (Burmese style coconut chicken noodle soup), with onions, eggs, cilantro, wanton, lemon and chili. Tea Leaf Salad with romaine, fried yellow beans, fried garlic, sesame seeds, fresh tomatoes, jalapeños and dried shrimp. Chicken stir fried with oyster mushrooms, lemongrass, basil, garlic, chili and sweet peas. Garlic and chili shrimp (wok tossed), toasted in garlicky infused oil with jalapeños and topped with toasted garlic and cilantro. Garlic noodles (flour noodles with fried garlic, scallions) in red chili sauce. Coconut rice (aromatic jasmine rice cooked with coconut milk and topped with fried onions). Sticky fingers (pork riblettes with caramelized sweet garlic and wine soy glaze).

Floating in a Burmese scented smoke cloud like six hippies in the garden of Eden, each mouthful was intoxicating. And, intoxicated, we floated out to the wharf, to the top floor of Lou's Fish House to see Willy G play live. With costume changes and seducing serenades, we nodded in tune and thick-throat gulped our bad margaritas. Across the street to In'n'out for chocolate milkshakes among the milky pink eyes of wharf drunks.
Sunday - 4 miles around Fernwood Cemetery, developed in the1800's, surrounded in heritage oak and bay trees, rolling plots of green - a wildlife habitat. Green in practice, with no person embalmed, no grave-liners or vaults, no headstones or bronze markers, only small, natural boulders, and each grave dug by hand. There's a Gan Yarok (green garden), a Jewish green garden that represents Orthodox, Conservative and Reform/Renewal. Monuments of Portuguese immigrants. It was other-worldly, a place of great peace, not of stark lines covered in moss and sad false flowers.
In the kitchen Cousin made a 17-egg breakfast with accompanying fruit stand medley, goat & cheddar cheeses, toast, jam, coffee. Packed up, drove along the winding backside of golden gate, saw the nose of a whale below. Back through Presidio, landing in Haight Ashbury for an afternoon of shopping, greyhound sipping, beer, to-go banh mi's, In-n-out cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate shakes.

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