Monday, May 10, 2010


I am under a rather large deadline gun (it kind of looks like a canon in my imagination with a lit fuse slowly burning down to the butt end) and had an out of town guest this weekend (plans made before the deadline became quite so imperative), so I am going to be on blogging hiatus until the end of May. I did want to share one quick food-related story, though, before I vanish into my hermit pit.

My guest, BB, and I walked from my house (near the zoo) along Ocean Beach to Golden Gate Park, between two and three miles, and then planned on walking through the park, looking at sights such as the Japanese Tea Gardens, etc., along the way until we reached the Haight. There we would have lunch and poke our heads into the various eclectic stores along Haight Street. We entered Golden Gate Park up at the far north end across from Ocean Beach, marked by a large windmill. Now I have a very good sense of direction and have walked through the park several times. This time we decided it would be fun to take some of the less traveled paths in the wooded parts of the park and see where those took us. We could see the houses of the Sunset District on our right as a landmark as to which direction we needed to go.

Makes sense, right?

Well, I thought so too.

After about an hour or so of pleasant rambling, we came out onto an intersection, Martin Luther King Blvd. and JFK Blvd. BB looked at the sign, looked at me and mentioned she recognized the street signs. I looked too and shook my head. No, not possible. Then she pointed and said, "But isn't that the ocean?"

I looked. It was. We had somehow ended up approximately a quarter mile from where we entered the park in the first place. We stuck to the main drag for the rest of our walk, now very hungry and quite thirsty. We were going to wait until we reached the Haight, but the sight of a little hot dog/pretzel stand crumbled that resolve like a sand castle at high tide. We each got a bottle of ice cold water and split a hot salted pretzel with deli mustard. The water tasted like nectar, the pretzel like the finest gourmet meal.

It's not always what you eat that makes a meal memorable. Sometimes it's the circumstances under which you eat it.

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