Here, There, and Everywhere

After a relatively steady stream of posts, I've lapsed into the writing gaps of yore. I have valid reasons, though. I've been busy...

1. Watching baseball. ESPN's been televising (or streaming, in my case) a high number of Yankees games in the past week and a half. I'm out of territory, and need to capitalize on these opportunities when they present themselves.

2. Preparing (through lists, mostly) for my first ever trip to Denver. I better love it as much as I'm being told I will.

3. Transferring the emptiness brought on by the end of the Olympics by immersing myself in Breaking Bad. I've put it off long enough and am finally ready to see what all the fuss is about. Horrors* aside, I am intrigued thus far. Also, it's re-excited me to someday (hopefully in the next year) visit New Mexico. 

4. Seeing some of my close family after far too long. I spent Friday night on Berkeley's campus, and in addition to feeling nostalgic for the start of a new school year, I also felt about 800 years old. 

5. Completing my Fantasy Football draft, and then spending hours poring over ESPN's coverage, in an effort to bolster my confidence in my team. For the record, defense aside, I'm feeling pretty good about my team. I am also choosing to ignore, until the last possible second, that as I've drafted Tom Brady, I will now need to cheer for the Patriots all. season. long. 

In an effort to bring some relevance to this post, I'm including a link to the winning entries in National Geographic Traveler's annual photo contest: Check it out.

* I'd link to video of said horrors, but would rather not scar people (i.e. my nonexistent readers). You cannot un-see these things. 

The Seaweed Is Always Greener

A friend and I have great plans to work our way down the restaurants of Mountain View's Castro Street. About a month ago, we started this journey at Rose International Market, a Middle Eastern market that also offers kabobs and falafel.

An aside: The Market is well worth a visit (or few). Their chicken is delicious, and I'm fairly certain their rice is laced with crack. There is no other explanation for how delicious some mostly plain rice can be. 

This week, in an effort to continue our eating expedition, we decided to dine at Sono Sushi. This place seemed fun, in theory, due to their having little sushi boats that float around a bar-like island. If you see some sushi that you like float by, you can just grab it and dig in. 

We were a party of three, and so opted for a table, rather than linear seating, so the art of sushi boats was inconsequential to our meal.

On a basic level, the restaurant does well: The establishment is cozy without being claustrophobic, the wait staff is polite and attentive, and the food is inexpensive.

Where the restaurant does not-so-well is where it pertains to the main event: the food.

The edamame, which we ordered as an appetizer, was cold. This problem didn't stop us from eating the entirety of our serving, but it's atypical of edamame to be served this way.

When it comes to Japanese food, I tend to lean the way of chicken teriyaki or udon, not because I don't love sushi, but because I don't love seafood. Yesterday, however, I opted for a cucumber roll and a chicken teriyaki roll. The former was fine--I imagine a cucumber roll is one of the most difficult to screw up--and while the latter wasn't terrible, it wasn't something I'd seek out again. 

My friends ordered seafood-based rolls, such as the Philadelphia roll, and while they weren't put off by their meals, they weren't impressed, either. 

In a place like the Bay Area, which hosts a bevy of restaurants, there's little room for mediocrity. I say this not to be snobby, but to be realistic. I don't spend every meal dining out, so on occasions where I do so, I want to make my experience and meal worthwhile. 

I'll head over to Sushi 85 if I need a local sushi fix, instead. 

Who's Got It Better Than Us?

Well, I finally accomplished the short-term goal of going to Candlestick Park, home of my darling 49ers. I accomplished at this goal a little differently than I'd hoped; I found myself at the stadium not for a game, but for The Color Run, a low-intensive, uniquely-designed 5k. 

At the conclusion of the run, a large crowed gathered around the exterior of the stadium to celebrate with colored powder, a DJ, and a plethora of free beverages. 

My friend and I used this opportunity to people-watch and take an assortment of pictures of us covered head-to-toe in said colored powder. 
But I also jumped at the chance to explore the periphery of the stadium, camera in tow:

I refuse to move away from San Francisco without attending a game at this stadium, so a return to Candlestick will be happening again. Someday.

Also, for those unfamiliar with the Harbaugh-ism referenced in the post's title, check out the product inspired by his words. 

Cover It with Chocolate and a Miracle or Two

A San Francisco bachelorette weekend included a stop at Bi-Rite Creamery, located near Dolores Park.

The ice cream shop and bakery boasts a menu of ice cream, soft serve, and baked goods, all of which are homemade and with organic ingredients.

Bi-Rite sits atop many lists naming it one of the best ice cream establishments in the country, and it has a local reputation to match. The line curled around the block, and we waited about a half hour to be served. 

True to my boring form when it comes to sweets, I ordered a double scoop of chocolate and vanilla. My friends, however, happily experimented with some of the more unique flavors. All were well received, but the salted caramel, in particular, was a big hit. 

Bottom line: I don't think it's the most incredible ice cream I've ever had, but I also don't adventure much when it comes to dessert. If you enjoy fun and distinctive flavors, it's certainly worth a visit—just make sure to bring a friend (or more) with whom you can combat what's sure to be a lengthy wait.

And They Sit at the Bar and Put Bread in My Jar

Last Thursday, a friend and I had dinner and drinks at The Brick Yard, a sports bar in San Francisco's Marina District. Game 2 of the NBA Finals was on, and we wanted a fun establishment to cheer on the Thunder together (sadly, to a less-than-positive outcome). 

The Brick Yard is an upscale sports bar, and from the moment I stepped in, I fell in love with the establishment. Sports bars are pretty much the only type of bar that I genuinely enjoy, so I guess I'm both a little biased, and relatively easy to please. That said, The Brick Yard is one of better sports bar that I've frequented. There are several television screens along the walls, facing in various directions, and offering a variety of sports-related fare.

My friend and I sat facing each other and the abundance of screens provided each of us the perfect vantage point from which to watch the game.

The bar's interior manages to balance modernity and rusticity, with its wooden embellishments and sparse furnishings.

 Also, in case it isn't evident, the seating at the tables is extremely comfortable.

Another thing I loved: The food. The Brick Yard serves slightly gourmet bar fare, boasting a menu ranging from a variety of pizzas, to chicken satay skewers, to citrus BBQ baby back ribs. 

Since we were in the Marina, all the females around us—of which there were only a few; sports bar and all—nibbled on their salads. Meanwhile, we dug into a plate of Buffalo and garlic wings, as well as a dish of mac & cheese (made with parmesan, gruyere, cheddar, and mozzarella). The food was unsurprisingly fantastic, but I think that even if it'd been sub-par (as American food has a tendency to be), the environment of the establishment would have proved to be adequate compensation. A good bar is hard to find, especially a good sports bar in San Francisco. 

While sports bars are my favorite type of bar, this preference tends not to hold true for the vast majority of my friends, and so I doubt I'll be back anytime soon. But I'd return in a heartbeat. If you ever pay it a visit, I bet you'd agree.

Picture credit: 1 / 2 

From This Land of Palm Trees

My friends and I spent the better half of Saturday up and down San Francisco's Haight Street, eating, shopping, and drinking. Some takeaways: The Ice Cream Bar, Club Deluxe, Murio's, Magnolia Pub & Brewery, and Hobson's Choice. 

We ended the night at Cha Cha Cha, a Caribbean and Cuban tapas restaurant that has locations in both the Haight and the Mission. 

We ordered the jerk chicken, the Cajun shrimp, vegetable paella, madras potatoes, calamari, BBQ chicken quesadillas, and sangria. 

Everything was tasty, though if asked to pick my favorites, I'd pick the shrimp (the sauce is fantastic, and a good accompaniment to the complimentary bread), the potatoes, and the quesadillas. The jerk was good, though didn't have a distinct enough flavor when compared to some of the more authentic jerk chicken I've eaten. The calamari, too, while good, wasn't anything special. I would have liked there to be more flavor infused in the paella; I appreciated that it wasn't saffron-heavy, given that I dislike that particular spice, but this dish seemed devoid of the rich flavor I expect of paella. The sangria was a hit with others, though I found it too sweet--then again, my palette is biased when it comes to that sort of thing.

Check out (some of) our delicious spread and be jealous:

The only downside to this restaurant is the long wait; I was in good company, which made the almost two hour wait easier to bear. If you've got the time to wait out a table (or can eke out seats at the bar, where their entire menu is served), this restaurant is absolutely worth a visit.

I've Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts

In hunting for a restaurant in Palo Alto at which to dine (via Yelp, obviously), my friend came across Coconuts, a Caribbean restaurant a few blocks off University Avenue, the heart of Palo Alto's downtown area.

Be warned: The restaurant can get very crowded, particularly on weekends, so it's best to make reservations. A friend and I tried to walk in around 7:30 on a Friday night, and were told the earliest we could be seated would be 9pm. Much of downtown Palo Alto is this way on a Friday night, and so we ended up at our Old Faithful. 

The following Monday, I tried calling to make reservations for that night, because I'd had a stressful day and wanted to unwind over good food, but! They're closed on Mondays. 

I finally found my way there on Thursday night, so I suppose third time's the charm. 

We ordered jerk chicken, chicken curry, and cornbread. I was slightly wary of the chicken curry, lest it be akin to Thai curry, which I dislike. But the chicken curry actually ended up being my favorite of the three dishes. 

The restaurant's interior is nice as well; it's beachy without being tawdry, and there's ambient lighting, which I've found to be typical of Caribbean restaurants in my (minimal) experiences frequenting them. And despite the fact that the restaurant is clearly working with a small space, I didn't feel cramped, or that the tables were uncomfortably close together.

Jamaican food is hard to come by, so if I'm in the mood for it again, I have no hesitations about returning to this place. 

Age of Aquarius

This past Saturday, some friends and I watched Friends with Kids at Palo Alto's Aquarius Theater. I've spent a considerable amount of time in downtown Palo Alto this past year, but until last night, I had no idea that this theater even existed. 

The theater has just two screens, each of which seat about 100 people, and which play two different independent films. The Aquarius is clearly old, but given the smallness of the establishment, as well as the type of fare it plays, this oldness comes across as quaint, rather than off-putting. 

I don't need a large theater to have an enjoyable viewing experience, and in fact, I think for indie fare, a small theater works well. There aren't any unnecessary bells and whistles with 3-D or stadium seating; the former feature is wasted on most films, and the latter isn't integral to a movie, so long as some tall person isn't planted right in front of you. 

Looking forward to my next visit—maybe for this summer's Moonrise Kingdom?

And here's some prettiness to end this post, because I'll use any excuse to work in pictures of Jon Hamm: 

He's in the movie. It's relevant, I swear. 

Mountains Beyond Mountains

I received a seemingly innocuous text from a friend on Saturday morning: "Let's go on a hike." We both had a free morning, and it was an unseasonably warm day, so why not? I figured we'd pick another trail in Portola Valley, or end up at the Stanford Dish. Fast forward to my arrival at her house, and she shuttles me into her car so we can drive up to Mission Peak. 

Mission Peak is one of the highest peaks in the Bay Area, and, along with Mount Diablo and Mount Tamalpais, is one of the three I've wanted to hike since moving to this area. I crossed Mount Diablo off this list last summer. 

I was extremely excited, insofar as I now had the opportunity to cross another hike off my list. I was, however, also extremely unprepared. A five-mile hike up through Portola Valley is vastly different than a 2200 ft elevation increase in about three miles. But my friend is awesome, and came prepared with popcorn (our hiking staple, for some reason) and clementines.

The preserve is extremely crowded on weekends, in general, and more so when the weather's nice. We ended up parking about a mile from the entrance to the Hidden Valley and Peak Meadow Trails (the two steeper ones, obviously). The extra walk and time is something to factor in for those Saturday and Sunday afternoon visits. 

Something else to factor in: The trails are mostly open; there is little-to-no shade provided along the way. Despite the crowds brought on by the sunshine, I think these are hikes that are probably more suited for an overcast or slightly cooler day. And so there we were, sweltering in the surprising February heat, averaging a height increase of about 700ft/mile. 

Totally worth it, though. For one thing, I accomplished a short-term goal. For another, I got to take advantage of winter sun and spend time with close friend. And finally, the views from the top are fantastic. The heat brought with it clarity in the skies, offering us views of everything from the Bay to the Santa Cruz mountains. That's something an overcast day could never offer. 

Next up: Mount Tam. 

Going Back to Houston

Every now and then, I find myself annoyed that in buying airline tickets, we essentially put ourselves at the mercy of a specific carrier. Continental/United took it upon themselves to change the timings of both of my flights back to California, which meant that my two-hour layover in Houston became a five-hour one.

Luckily, I had two things working in my favor. One, Houston International is a busy and sprawling airport, and two, the NFL playoffs were on. 

Houston Airport is disappointing in that it does not offer free Wi-Fi--although some of the people surrounding me tried to find ways to cheat the system and poach even 45 minutes' worth of free internet. I am a big fat coward and attempted no such thing. 

The size of the airport did mean that there were a variety of dining options at my disposal, but initially, I had a delicious bagel from home to keep me sated. Towards the end of my layover, I contemplated seeking out one of the two Wendy's at the airport, but my carry-on (consisting of two laptops, among other things), was doing a serious number on my shoulder, and I am a weakling. Also, I did not really feel like having my carry-on rupture from the weight of said items.

Some takeaways from Houston:

• The womens' bathrooms have free tampons! An airport is one of the better, and more logical places to offer this amenity. 

• I don't get bored very easily, or often, but for those who might: This airport, like others that are so large, is one of the better airports at which to spend a lengthy layover. There are numerous televisions set up at the gates, and the speaker system is solid enough that one isn't straining to hear what's being said, even amidst the bustle of a busy airport. There's a plethora of dining options, umpteenth stores at which to browse and/or shop, 

• The busyness of the airport means that people are always milling around, and so spending three hours camped out at a gate that's not yours doesn't feel so strange. For a young female traveling alone, that's a comforting feeling. The crowd never thins out, and while under normal circumstances, I'd be annoyed, it's part of the appeal of airports. It's a people-watching haven (and heaven, depending on the types of people strolling by). 

I'm not bursting at the seams to visit Houston, nor do I have any plans to do so in the near future, so any returns to this airport are likely to be due to a layover. If it's a lengthy one, sign me up. 

We All Scream for Ice Cream

Let's be serious. No trip home would be complete without a trip to Halo Pub. Look at the deliciousness: