The Jetpacker

Yesterday when we arrived in San Francisco, it looked like this… 

Today, it looked like this… 

Before we left Orange County, I talked to my optometrist, a San Francisco native, about things to do in his home town.  He said, “The more I travel, the more realize I just want to eat.” 

We couldn’t agree more. 

You need to utilize all your senses to truly experience a foreign destination.  We just happen to enjoy using our sense of taste the most. 

But that’s justified in San Francisco.  This is a foodie’s city, a mecca of seafood, organic products and traditional fare. 

So we decided to start our day at the Ferry Building, featuring 47 stores specializing in everything from homemade cheeses to artisanal breads and flavored olive oils.  The building, which opened in 1898 and survived both the 1906 and 1989 earthquakes, was packed with people visiting the Saturday Farmer’s Market. 

The one shop I couldn’t wait to check out was Boccalone.  Any place that labels its food “Tasty Salted Pig Parts” is good in my book. 

Remember in “There’s Something About Mary” when Ben Stiller said there needs to be more meats in cones? 

Well, Boccalone brought his suggestion to fruition… kind of.  For $3.50, you can buy a cone filled with a select handmade cured meats like capocollo (spicy neck meat), prosciutto (aged ham) and brown sugar & fennel salame.  The meat was flavorful and smooth, and you can tell the creator, Chris Cosentino, who is often seen on the Food Network, really put a lot of care and practice into producing meats so superior, you’ll never want to buy junky processed lunch meat again. 

From there we walked The Embarcadero, a walkway along the San Francisco By, packed with tourists, street performers and homeless people.  Or maybe they were just marijuana addicts that looked homeless. 

The further we walked, their hand-written signs changed from… 

“Need Money For Weed Or Food” 

…to.. 

“Need Money For Weed” 

..to… 

“Need Weed” 

One politically savvy fan of weed said, “Legalize it, people!  Let’s stop the drug cartels in Mexico and get California out of debt!” 

But if he wants to get his point across successfully, he shouldn’t do it in front of the Boudin factory, where the intoxicating smell of freshly baked sourdough bread called to us like a doughy siren. 

Vents pump out the smells of the bakery directly into the faces of unsuspecting people on the sidewalk, and you can literally see people being brainwashed, abandoning their plans and walking immediately into the cafe. 

We already had plans to visit Boudin, but even we were distracted to the point where we stopped snapping pictures of the street performers and walked right inside to claim our clam chowder in a bread bowl, sourdough pizza and grilled cheese sandwich. 

Baskets of fresh sourdough bread float through the cafe on a moving wire to cool down

The food was great, but it wasn’t the best money I spent today.  That title belongs to the three dollars and fifty cents in quarters that went into 100+ year old penny arcade machines inside the Musée Mécanique. 

A ferris wheel made of toothpicks from San Quentin inmates.

For 25 cents you can watch a 3-D flip show of pictures from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.  If you’re dirty-minded (like we are), it only costs a quarter to watch the “XXX” videos of women take off their clothes… and dance around in a nighty that covers everything but their arms.  So risqué! 

Our favorite machine was the Execution Chamber where doors fling open to reveal a 3-inch tall toy criminal receiving his last rights before the floor drops out and he’s hung. 

The "Horrible Monster" is YOU looking in a distorted mirror.

I’m gonna glaze right over the part where Ashley AND Jackie kicked my butt in a game of foosball hockey.  Beginners luck? 

All that competition made us hungry for dessert.  Fortunately, Ghirardelli Square was only a few blocks away.  I think they originally built the Ghirardelli factory on a hill so customers can work off their dessert before they eat it. 

We got a free cube of chocolate with peanut butter and caramel when we passed through the door.

It was a surprisingly warm day today, and sitting in the courtyard, listening to the relaxing splash of a fountain and eating chocolate ice cream from a waffle cone channeled the vibe of summer. 

Even the park inside Fort Mason reminded us of the care-free days of summer, where people played sports, walked their dogs and ran the trails.  From here we had stunning views of the sun setting over Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. 

If the sunset wasn’t a sufficient cue to end the day, the symphony of whining coming from Jackie and Ashley would do the trick.  We walked 6 or 7 miles today, including some uphill climbs, and everyone within a 300-foot radius was made well aware that their feet hurt. 

Jackie’s complaints of “hurts hurts hurts” and Ashley’s “ow ow ow” merged into a concert of pain that went something like this: 

“Ow hurts ow hurts ow hurts” 

It didn’t help that our hotel was 7 blocks away.  But the sounds of pain were temporarily alleviated when we passed a humorous sign that read: 

“You Missed Hotel Capri… 4 Blocks Back” 

Wouldn’t it have been more helpful to position that sign about 3 blocks back instead? 

We topped off the night with some mediocre Thai food that had great reviews on Yelp.  This might be the first time Yelp led us astray. 

We’ll make up for it tomorrow by heading to the Mission district for some famous food… as long as the huge hills don’t defeat us. 

The new Lewis & Clark? No, we failed to get off the beach.