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desperanceEh. Such a fine time I've had of it, the last twenty-four hours.
Went up to the city yesterday afternoon, and walked all along the waterfront in sunshine; then met my lady wife from work, and we headed off towards B44 (a Catalan bistro, if you can't be bothered to click, in the Alley of All Foods). Where we met![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
j_i_m_r and tafelspitz by arrangement, and ate tapas and paella (mmm, salt cod...) and drank wines of that country and so forth; and then headed back to their house on a hill, and drank several bottles more wine of another country (Cotes du Rhone, since you ask) and may have talked too much. And then we crashed out on their sofabed, and that was yesterday.
Today we were all up betimes, and off to the farmers' market at the Ferry Building. Which is ... um. Overwhelming? I may have spent too much, but I didn't get half of what I might have done; and I ate samples of way more, and still had to refuse some; and we went up and down the regular Ferry Building too, which is my notion of pornography (actually, that's not quite the right word: if cookery books and magazines and TV shows are gastroporn, what's the word for actual foodstalls?), and stopped off at a French butcher on the way back just to see it (sweetbreads! which I did not buy! not the beef cheeks, neither, nor the lamb shoulder on the bone, nor...), and so to second breakfast. And then sitting over coffee and talking more, and samplingmadbaker's beef merguez (which is not what he called it, but I can't remember and it's a fair description), and eventually heading off again: first to Rainbow grocery store where I bought a teapot and a vanilla pod and sundry other things, and then to Gourmet Corner where I bought verjus and rosewater and sundry other things, and so at last to home. Where I fed the cats and later my lady wife (mushroom and fava bean risotto, since you ask, enriched with mascarpone and a rind of parmesan), and I'm not wholly sure that I'm entirely well but hoping so, because I want to be up again betimes to head off for the San Mateo County Fair to meet athenais and guess the weight of the fatted calf. Which I'm fairly sure must be the true meaning of the parable of the Prodigal Son.
Went up to the city yesterday afternoon, and walked all along the waterfront in sunshine; then met my lady wife from work, and we headed off towards B44 (a Catalan bistro, if you can't be bothered to click, in the Alley of All Foods). Where we met
j_i_m_r and tafelspitz by arrangement, and ate tapas and paella (mmm, salt cod...) and drank wines of that country and so forth; and then headed back to their house on a hill, and drank several bottles more wine of another country (Cotes du Rhone, since you ask) and may have talked too much. And then we crashed out on their sofabed, and that was yesterday.Today we were all up betimes, and off to the farmers' market at the Ferry Building. Which is ... um. Overwhelming? I may have spent too much, but I didn't get half of what I might have done; and I ate samples of way more, and still had to refuse some; and we went up and down the regular Ferry Building too, which is my notion of pornography (actually, that's not quite the right word: if cookery books and magazines and TV shows are gastroporn, what's the word for actual foodstalls?), and stopped off at a French butcher on the way back just to see it (sweetbreads! which I did not buy! not the beef cheeks, neither, nor the lamb shoulder on the bone, nor...), and so to second breakfast. And then sitting over coffee and talking more, and sampling
madbaker's beef merguez (which is not what he called it, but I can't remember and it's a fair description), and eventually heading off again: first to Rainbow grocery store where I bought a teapot and a vanilla pod and sundry other things, and then to Gourmet Corner where I bought verjus and rosewater and sundry other things, and so at last to home. Where I fed the cats and later my lady wife (mushroom and fava bean risotto, since you ask, enriched with mascarpone and a rind of parmesan), and I'm not wholly sure that I'm entirely well but hoping so, because I want to be up again betimes to head off for the San Mateo County Fair to meet athenais and guess the weight of the fatted calf. Which I'm fairly sure must be the true meaning of the parable of the Prodigal Son.