My, your buns are warm in the morning!

I am 33 today.

My grandfather used to flip the numbers in his age. Only if it suited him, of course, but since he died at 100, his nineties were easy targets for his tricks. 98th birthday? No siree, 89th!

So today I'm 33, which means I've thought of Boppa many times today because if he were alive he'd tell me that 33 doesn't do me any good because I'm 33 either way. Of course, the next several years won't be useful either...34/43, etc.

But anyway, I'm thinking of Boppa today.

Speaking of, Boppa's death taught me that when people die, they don't actually disappear. This is all very kumbaya of me, I know, but we still actively remember and talk about him and really, it's like he's still here.

Jeeeeze, Elizabeth. Happy Birthday, let's talk about your dead grandfather.

Moving on...

So it's my birthday and I'm now eight days away from moving out of San Francisco, so what better excuse to have one last morning bun from Tartine for breakfast?

I've never really been a breakfast breads person (I'm more the BRING ON THE SAUSAGE type) but I had one of those there morning buns a few months ago because they're on the list of things to try in San Francisco before you die and BOY HOWDY, it was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I believe I posted a picture of it here.

Yes, in fact, I did:



It's a good thing it's such a PAIN IN THE ASS to park over by Tartine because otherwise I'd be over there every day eating pressed sandwiches, olive bread, tarts and morning buns.

But today is my birthday so I put forth the effort and got there right when they opened and DO YOU KNOW WHAT MAGIC EXISTS IN THE WORLD RIGHT WHEN THE BAKERY OPENS?

WARM morning buns!

Holy crap, it was delicious but holy crap, I'm not used to eating warm, sugary, buttery bread products so early in the morning and now I feel kinda gross, so I'm trying to flush it out with lots of water and no more coffee.

The middle part of my birthday will be spent deciphering a bunch of work stuff that I'm SO UNQUALIFIED to be responsible for, but have somehow been put in charge of.
It'll be a laugh riot.

Then tonight I'm going to dinner with the family, but it'll be an early night because tomorrow I will embark on Operation: Pack My Kitchen. I might also work on Operation: Drink the Rest of the Beer. TBD.

Seven within 24 hours. Oh my gosh.

Okay so FOUR SCORE AND SEVEN YEARS AGO, my friend CK came to visit me from the land of the Texas. He comes out here every May and this year, instead of his traditional Cinco de Mayo visit, we decided that he should come later in the month so he could experience Bay to Breakers.

He is always up for anything and he's a really awesome date so while he was here, we decided that we would have a digestive BONANZA:

1. We would try to hit as many things as we could from the list of 100 Things that I've been working my way through.

2. We were going to make all the weird food crap we've seen on the internet over the years and invite our friends over to clog their arteries.

Gluttony at it's best.

He arrived on a Thursday evening and we promptly went back to my apartment to make Colorado Bulldogs and devise a game plan:


First up: #37, Rotisserie chicken at Limon.

We cabbed out to EGYPT (not really, it felt like it) and eventually got seated, where we enjoyed the most delicious sangria I've ever had and the most delicious rotisserie chicken EVER in the history of the whole entire world:



It was SOOOO good (HOW GOOD WAS IT?) that I've since been back two more times. In a city with as many dining options as San Francisco, I hardly ever go back to the same place twice, much less THREE times in the matter of only a month or so.

All nice and liquored up from the Colorado Bulldogs and the pitcher of sangria, we headed over to my favorite drag queen bar where we proceeded to do sticky sweet shot after sticky sweet shot after sticky sweet shot with Cliff, my up-until-recently-favorite-bartender-ever:



We eventually stumbled home and woke up the next morning, expectedly a teeny bit hungover.

But you know what? We're TROOPERS! We had a list of 100 things to tackle, starting with brunch. And really, eggs benedict cures allll, right? So we beautified and made it over to #77 for eggs benedict on the back patio of Zazie.

You know how when you're dealing with the aftermath of being over-served, the laaast thing you want is another drink even though you know it'll make you feel better? Hair of the dog? Yuck. So we enjoyed our pancakes and eggs with much gentler beverages:







And after some quality time kicking around town, going to that strange pirate store in the Mission, driving up to the Marin headlands and some couch lounging, we mustered up the energy to head out for lunch: #40, a cheeseburger at Taylor's.

I'm kind of an "a burger is a burger is a burger" kind of girl and it was good, but not THE BEST BURGER EVER, OMG.

After the burgers, we had lackluster ginger snaps at Miette (#49) and killed some time people watching at the Ferry Building.





That's not us, btw. We were the people behind them going "This ginger snap kinda sucks. This lavender flavored marshmallow tastes like soap. What time does the bar open?"

We decided to head over to Union Square so we'd be closer to our next list item when it opened (#30, the Laughing Buddha cocktail at Cantina) and OMG ON OUR WAY OVER WE SAW A CELEBRITY!

Kinda.

We saw my internet homie Joel, who I've had a mutual blog-reading friendship with for like 100 years now. He was behind us on the escalator going down to Muni and -- this is horrible -- he recognized me by my jeans, which means two things:

1. I've posted way too many pictures of myself over the years wearing the same damn pair of jeans.

2. I probably need new jeans.

The jeans as seen on that particular day:



The funny thing is that Joel was kind of a part of my weekend anyway so seeing him was SO TOTALLY FITTING:

A. The weird food party was his original idea, I think.

B. We'd already made plans to look for each other at Bay to Breakers. He was planning on running (like, for reals...not with beer-in-hand), I was planning on spectating.

We rode together for a couple of stops and dorked out at running into each other and then it was time for CK and I to get off the train and Joel continued on his way to go pick up his race bib and be a healthy citizen.

High on the excitement of my celebrity sighting, we went to the Gold Dust Lounge, one of my favorite drinking-in-the-middle-of-the-day bars and FINALLY had the hair of the dog we'd been needing.

After the Gold Dust, we went to Cantina and had memorable-if-only-because-they-were-gross cocktails that really had no business being on the list:



AND OH MY GOSH I'M GETTING TIRED OF WRITING THIS AND WE'RE STILL ONLY ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON!!!!!!!

We bought sunglasses (NOT Ed Hardy ones...psssscha):



We had #93, seven courses of beef at Pagolac. I don't have any pictures but it was an interactive dining experience and not at all as overwhelmingly gluttonous as it sounds.

After dinner we had #48, Angels on Horseback at Anchor & Hope but since it turns out we don't like oysters (even fried and wrapped in bacon), we really just drank champagne and poked at our plates.



Plus, hello, it had been a DAY OF EATING.

We were full.

More gluttony tomorrow. Or later. Whenever.

I have a whole lot to say about a whole lot of nothing.

1. From Fail Blog:


Like a bidet, I imagine.

2. There are five apartments on each floor of my building and each floor shares a washer and dryer. Until recently, I'd never had much of a problem doing my laundry whenever the heck I felt like it because I don't think 303 or 301 EVER did laundry, 304 was never home and 305 is a late night laundry guy. So that left 302 (me) plenty of prime time laundry doing.

BUT THEN 303 sold his apartment and the new owner, GASP, does laundry on a regular basis so I had to compete with him, but fine, no problem, whatever.

AND THEN 304 rented her place out to a 20-something couple and not two days later I found a pair of underwears in my laundry that did not belong to me and I JUST KNEW that these new people would ALSO want to get on my laundry game.

DAMN THESE PEOPLE AND THEIR PERSONAL HYGIENE!!!!!!!!!!

3. But okay, speaking of finding those underpants in my laundry -- I was transferring stuff from the washer to the dryer and I saw what looked like a hot pink rubber glove or something sticking to one of my dresses. My mind processed this information slowly and I couldn't figure out what the heck I'd left in my pocket because this tiny, flimsy chunk of pink something-or-other was very confusing. It took me a second to realize that it was the new chick's underwear that was SO FREAKING SMALL and made of NOTHING that it's really no wonder they were forgotten.

I didn't want to embarrass her by knocking on her door and going "OH HAI, WANT YOUR CHONIES BACK??" and I didn't want to just leave them out for her to find because if the shoe was on the other foot I'd be horrrrrified to think that maybe 301 had been the one to find them and I'd have to throw them away because the thought of him touching my underpants would ruin them forever, so I just tossed them down the garbage chute.

The kicker is that when I finally figured out what they were I surprised myself with my old lady "THIS IS UNDERWEAR?? THIS IS WHAT THE KIDS ARE WEARING THESE DAYS?? THIS IS THE TINIEST, LEAST FUNCTIONAL UNDERWEAR I'VE EVER SEEN!" reaction.

32 going on 72, I tell you.

4. I think we've already established that I'm working on eating my way through the list of 100 Things to Try in SF Before You Die, right? Because I am. I've made some decent progress over the past few months and I'll save my reviews and blah blah blah for another post but I will say that I decided to earn #8: A morning bun from Tartine, by walking my ass 1.4 miles to get it:


My walk was not without incident though:

This is an example of why WE DO NOT RUN FOR BUSSES! Or in this case, a light. I was in a hurry because I had to work my second job (btw, I have a second job) and I didn't want to miss the light so I ran and my phone jumped out of my pocket. Oops. I've seen worse cases of iPhone injuries though so I know it'll be fine and I already kinda like that the back of my phone is all worn looking because I refuse to get a case for it, so another war wound will just add character. Besides, that morning bun was totally worth it.

5. The two greatest fortunes I've ever had:



6. So you know how Mother's Cookies went bankrupt or something and everyone cried little tears because they thought they'd eaten their last circus animals? And then how some other company bought Mothers' recipes? And how they sucked because the circus animals were bigger and creamier and tasted kinda lemony? Because all that is true. Here are the wanna-be circus animals:


WELL YOU'LL NEVER GUESS what I saw at Lucky's last night!! The original Mother's circus animals! I didn't think to take a picture before I threw the bag away (so I wouldn't keep eating them -- blasphemy, I know) but it said something like "The originals are back!" And I'm happy to tell you, Internet, that the new-new ones have the correct size, flavor and texture:



I called my dad to give him the good news and he was like "I was already having a great day so this just makes it even better!" He's a man who knows the importance of tradition. And now that I know they're back, I can go back to buying one bag every five years or so.

Getting my hair did.

You know how when you clean your house you often make it worse before you make it better? If you're doing it right, anyway. I know Joan knows what I'm talking about. Well when getting your own self beautified you also have to make it worse before you make it better:

After I got my hairs did I went out for sushi with Ben and Sarah. It was after 7 by the time I got there and they're both totally jet lagged so I offered a rain check but their goal for the evening was to stay up until 9 (WATCH OUT!) so we went out anyway.

This particular sushi boat moves FAST so that, plus the fact that poor ol' Sarah was t-i-r-e-d meant that by the time she got her arm up in the air, her roll of choice had already ZOOMED by.

Fun Fact:

Going to a sushi boat with Ben and Sarah is not advisable because they end up with a stack of five measly plates COMBINED and you feel like a major OINKER for the six plates in front of you. I will say that I think six plates at a sushi boat is NOTHING compared to the plate towers other people build, but it still made me very self conscious.

When I was still on speaking terms with WWBF we'd go for sushi all the time and I don't know how he did it but I SWEAR half of his plates would end up in MY stack. No biggie because YOU KNOW I WAS PAYING FOR IT ALL ANYWAY except that believe me when I say that I'm SURE it was a subconscious (or maybe just passive aggressive, now that I think about it) Weight Watcher move. (And I guess this is where I should explain that I met him at Weight Watchers, for those of you who weren't around for that roller coaster.)

Unrelated:

I think I might want this cake pan:

The main problem though is that it looks like a WALL of cake and that doesn't appeal to me because, you know, cake is useless without frosting.

Thanks for the link, Jordy.

On the agenda for the weekend:

1. Hot date with Tony & John! We're gonna cross another item off the list of 100 things to try in SF before we die. Possibly #43.

2. Drag queen brunch for Sarah's birthday! We'll be brunching with two pregnant chicks and one of them is pretty close to her due date so we all need to cross our fingers that she doesn't go into labor before Sunday because we're past the cancel-by date so we'll have to pay for her anyway. DAMN HER for not considering the drag queens while planning her family. Sheesh.

2a. And no, I'm not talking about the birth of my future niece or nephew. That one still gets 9 more weeks of cookin' time. S/he did, by the way, kick my hand the other day. My hand was on L's belly at the time, so it's to be expected and all, but it was still a strange experience.

HOLY CRAP I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT IN NINE WEEKS.

I do not love bacon in ALL forms.

I said I didn't want this blog to be about bacon because I think the whole OMG BACON ON EVERYTHING INCLUDING BAND-AIDS AND SHOES AND DENTAL FLOSS AND BOOZE thing kinda jumped the shark and I never intended for the whole "Elizabeth Loves Bacon" thing to be a THEME...just a statement of fact.

So anyway, no bacon lamp shades or wallets or whatever for me, but I DO have two bacon-related items to report:

1. I do not like bacon doughnuts. Carrie and I went to Dynamo Donuts in search of a spiced chocolate (or chocolate spice?) doughnut so I could cross #54 off my list but they didn't have any. FAIL. But they did have the bacon doughnuts so I tried one of those.

I've had bacon pancakes before and they were awesome so I figured that a bacon doughnut with maple frosting would be even better because seriously, fry ANYTHING and it's better.

But no. Not these babies:



It was just very blah. SO blah, in fact, that I put the rest of the doughnut back into the bag and suggested that we go to REAL brunch instead. So we did.

2. I will be making bacon caramel corn sometime soon. I hate cooking bacon at home because I can't stand the smell that lingers, but I think this popcorn might be worth it. Full report later.

3 down, 97 to go.

Okay so I'm OBSESSED with making progress on the list of 100 things to try in SF before you die.

I'm up to three so far:

#92. The bacon-wrapped hot dog, which I already blahblahblah'd about.

#60. The Brass Monkey (sausage, feta and spinach pizza) at Little Star Pizza, which was super tasty but was also part of a lovely night out with Tony and John. We decided that we were gonna race to the finish with this list and so far, I think I'm in second place which is shameful because I believe I've lived in SF longer than John has.

#44. A cannele from one of the Bay Bread locations. It was something I'd NEVER have tried otherwise (a cake without frosting holds ZERO appeal) but it was so good that I've since been back for a SECOND one and I keep thinking that I'll have to pick one up for my mom one of these days because I think she'd like it.

And after this weekend I'll have a few more notches on my belt:

#88. Buckwheat crepe and a French cider at Ti Couz. I've eaten here before but I don't believe I've ever had a buckwheat crepe or a French cider so guess what I'm having for dinner tonight when I meet up with my old pal Santa Amy Lou? They also have French onion soup and I've never tried theirs, but A) I LOVE French onion soup and B) doesn't French onion soup sound fantastic on a cold, rainy night??

#76. Chicken hash at Ella's. I brunched at Ella's back before I even moved to SF but chicken hash is another one of those things I'd never consider ordering. I'm gonna order it anyway because I love crossing things off lists and I can't help myself. Plus, Sarah and Laurina are coming into the city to see me tomorrow and Ella's is a popular brunch spot so why not cross something off my list at the same time?

#54. Spiced-chocolate doughnut at Dynamo Donut with a Four Barrel coffee. My TV currently requires the viewer to turn it on and off somewhere between 11 and 15 times before it will stay on (it used to be only 2-3 times...it's getting worse) and Carrie has a spare TV that she's trying to unload because she doesn't want to deal with the digital TV conversion thing and she's kind enough to hand it down to ME (because if you've priced TVs these days you know the days of the $300 TV are GONE GONE GONE). Sooooo, we're gonna swap out the TVs on Sunday and then haul mine down to the electronics recycling center and somewhere in there we're gonna go get us some doughnuts and coffee!

Fun fact: This place also offers BACON doughnuts. And lemon-thyme doughnuts. It's gonna be a doughnut bonanza.

Bacon-wrapped hot dogs ARE delicious.

I just read about a list of 100 things to eat in San Francisco before you die and while I've been to several of the places on the list, I seem to have ordered the wrong things because the ONLY thing on this list that I've eaten is #92: The Bacon-wrapped hot dog from a cart in the Mission (preferably when you’re drunk).

I can report that:

A. It was the best hot dog I'd ever eaten in my whole entire life, and that's saying something because my parents always bought hot dogs from the deli -- not the vaccuum packed meat section at Safeway.

B. I had been drinking.