wishbone clover

Drinks, Dinner, Dead Guy

The medical debris left after firemen came and saved a man's life.

Last night I had a lady date with my good friend, Tiger. I met her at Fuzio in the Castro, because we like that Firecracker chicken (the lettuce wrap version). Also, the cocktails are big and strong, like the boyz of the Castro.

We hadn't seen each other since before the holidays, so we were having one of those catch up conversations where you start a new story in the middle of a sentence, but you both can keep track of everything.

And then the guy sitting five feet away keeled over and turned blue.

A hush fell over the restaurant, and no one did anything for 30 long seconds. Then half the people stepped back, and the other half rushed forward.

Om Baby

Since my trip to Vietnam has been postponed, I took a faux-cation to the Asian Art Museum with my friend Tiger to celebrate her birthday. We had sake and ton-katsu, and I took a zillion pictures.

Not as good as a trip to Asia (the shopping just wasn't the same) but a fun way to spend a Sunday.

We Eat: Chocolate Caramel Pot de Creme. With Salt.

Chief and I took it pretty easy over Labor Day Weekend, just tooling around the City. On Saturday we decided to drop by Crissy Field, one of the best reasons to live in SF. Happy people and dogs gamboling, kites flying, ships of every stripe on the Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge in backdrop of every view. Magic.

Too hungry to start with magic, so we stopped first at a restaurant that recently opened in the Presidio, La Terrasse. It's French, so we had steak frites. Very good. French martinis. Also very good. A nice glass of local zinfandel. Tasty, tasty.

Since I already knew I wasn't going to tell Tiger, my trainer, about this meal (until now, Hi Tiger!) I advocated for dessert. The pot de creme was an easy sell because Chief loves pudding. We agreed to split.

Big mistake. Next time no sharing.

It was the best pot de creme I've ever, EVER had. Because La Terrasse puts salt on it! Maybe that's how most people do it, and I've only sampled inferior versions in the past. I'm just glad that now I know how it should be.

I must be part psychic because it occurred to me to take a picture before eating it. Sorry for the fuzzy, out of focus bad quality. I only had my shitty, little camera with me because my cool, big camera requires rolling luggage and sometimes strains spontaneity. Any way, the light brown bumps on the whipped cream are salty nuggets of pleasure.

You can see the Golden Gate Bridge from the outside terrace of La Terrasse, which partially explains the magic of this dessert. Salt explains the rest.