Eats and Beers

Local Man Loses Bet

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

I was at this house party yesterday afternoon and then, out of nowhere, this guy who didn't even appear to be on drugs put on that terrible Six Pence None The Richer song, ripped his shirt from his body, and began vandalizing his chest with the iconic statement “Free Hugz + Kizzez.”  After all that, he scandalously stripped down to his under trousers and began hugging every clothed person in sight.

But it gets better: after pressing his skin up against everyone, he sprawled out on a beach chair started gorging himself with cornsyrup logs while the crowd looked on unconcerned for the man's well-being.

Observe:

Now, I can't really imagine what would drive a man to publicly strip down to his undies and force feed himself Twinkies like he was making human foie gras, but it probably has something to do with “an exploration of our comforting indulgences” or “a dare from a friend” or “I was hot and hungry.”

Anyway, props to this guy, as he made performance art as sufferable as it gets.

Giant "Street Food" Beer Garden/WiFi Oasis Opens in Stinky SoMa Corner

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

After a long-ish wait, the SoMa StrEat [zzzing!] Food Park opened their chain-link fence gate to the slobbering public.  And it's a delight!  10 food trucks serving restaurant-quality food at restaurant prices, complimentary wifi, and, soon, a beer truck pouring cold mugs of brew; all sandwiched between an 6-lane highway, a thriving Costco, and all-natural artisan spelt bread:

Note: all-natural artisan spelt bread not pictured.

Now, I'm not sure it's right of me to thoroughly shit on this.  For one, this isn't for 20-something Mission kids as much as it's for 40-something office workers whose lunch hour is the only glimmer of excitement in their waning life.  Plus, there really isn't much to eat in the area besides dollar hot dogs at Costco—who am I to take this away from them?

And, really, it's not all that bad.  The SoMa Stench is largely choked out by whiffs of fresh-baked cookies and truffle oil French fries.  The dominating hum of a dozen food truck generators reduces the thundering roar of passing 18-wheelers to chirps from a gasoline bird, cruising through the summer breeze it's simultaneously choking the life out of.  And the food?  Well, that's pretty damn good too (protip: Little Green Cyclo's tatter tots with tamarind plum sauce is where it's at).

But there's something about the setting that makes this place feel a little… off.  The towering walls of bulk pizza bites and stop and go traffic are unsettling, sure, but it's more than that…

See, outside SoMa StrEat Food is a truck “movement” of another kind: people displaced by foreclosures and rising rents, forced to live under the freeway in dilapidated mobile shanties.

Maybe these two communities neighboring each other isn't so shocking; after all, these food trucks are supposedly a product of the rising cost of opening a brick and mortar restaurant in Our Fair City.  Piles of city regulations and deep-pocketed restaurateurs made the dream impossible, so into the back of a truck the kitchen went, man.  And even if all that is true, there's something profoundly rattling about watching a guy pour a bucket of urine into a storm drain while you're heading to spend $10 on a bowl of rice.

And remember: be careful about leaving valuables in your car, as someone stole the sign reminding you there are thieves in the area.

Anyone Want to Split Three Twin's $3,333 Ice Cream Sundae?

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

The Chronicle recently interviewed the owner of Three Twins Ice Cream in the Lower Haight, who happens to make the world's most expensive (but not delicious—that title belongs to Mitchell's) sundae:

Q: So what's the deal with the $3,333.33 banana split you have on the Napa store's menu? Are you out of your mind?
A: I put it up not really as a joke, but for something fun for people to read while they're waiting in line.

I really hate the most expensive (dot dot dot) when most of the expense is for the serving dish, like the most expensive cocktail that comes in a crystal chalice. We serve the most expensive sundae, but the food cost is one-third of the price. It's three scoops of organic ice cream; a banana, organic of course; and is topped with three syrups made from three extremely rare dessert wines - a 1960s vintage Port, a Chateau D'Yquem and a German Trockenbeerenauslese. It also comes with a cellist who will play anything you want while you eat the sundae.

Be sure to wear your “I'm part of the 1 percent” card on your chest when you order it.

Q: You say the banana split is the world's most expensive sundae. Are you sure it's the most expensive?
A: Absolutely. We researched it extensively on the Internet.

Pssh.  While all this might be a tad out of my league, I CHALLENGE your claim that a 20-scoop sundae served from a KFC bucket or whatever is “absurd.”  And I'm sure it tastes wonderful doused in Boone's Farm.

[Photo by Lesley K | via Grub Street]

Food Porn For National Donut Day

— By Erika Kali |

If you love donuts as much as I do, then this video is pretty NSFW. I'd suggest going to the back room of your office, or maybe watch it on your future phone from the lurky table in the corner at Lee's or Four Barrel or The Attic and get to work. FUCK. YES. DONUTS.

I'm so bummed out the nearest Krispy Kreme is in Daly City. Gimme them free donuts! I want to eat them all, and not just because today is my version of Kwanzaa.

The Source of All of the Mission's Nighttime Woes are a Gourmet Cheese Shop, Apparently

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

TROUBLEMAKERS

When I think of the throngs of young drunk hooligans merrymaking down Valencia every weekend, all hootin' and hollerin' and making a gawddamned ruckus, I think of gourmet cheese.  One other neighbor agrees with that and took their complaint right up with the California Alcoholic Beverage Control, which denied Mission Cheese with a permit to stay open as late as 10pm.

Mission Cheese owner Sarah Dvorak explains in a statement to Mission Local:

Our current beer & wine permit only allows us to serve until 8 pm. We had to wait one year from the date our license was granted to apply to amend our hours. We want to stay open until 10, at least on Friday & Saturday evenings. We are constantly turning away disappointed potential customers when we close at 8. Some even think we’re joking when we say we are closed.

Last week we were visited by the SFPD who told us they were happy to have us in the neighborhood & should have no trouble getting the extra hours. Today I received a call that they will be denying our request because one individual in the 100 ft radius believes our business to be disruptive as is. Apparently one person is enough to deny the request.

Don't worry though, Sarah can take it up with a judge, who'll reexamine the case and consider making an exemption.  Until then, enjoy your quiet, cheese fart-free streets.

[Photo by Jen Rizzo]

New Chocolate Factory Not Associated With R. Kelly Months Away

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

I like chocolate, but I'm not sure about the name. Dandelion? Have you ever ate dandelions? They're gross and sour and foul and turn your tongue yellow. I was an idiot as a child.

Anyway, here's a mockup of what the inside of the chocolate/cafe is supposed to look like, opening in a “few months” on Valencia and 18th:

Gawker: Food Critics RUINED Mission Chinese Food

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

UNLEASH THE FURY:

We live in a world of restaurant review oversaturation. The second some cool new place like Mission Chinese Food in San Francisco is discovered, its swarming with writers at the Times, Bon Appetit, GQ, and any other place that pays a food critic ungodly sums of money to live like a God. The end result is that such restaurants become overrun with critics and cameramen from Bourdain and the Food Network and you, the common man, will probably have to wait in line for six hours just to get in the fucking place. Food critics don't help readers find restaurants anymore. They RUIN them.

I say all this with the full understanding that most Yelp reviewers are fucking idiots. There's obviously a place in this world for professional food writing. But at this point, it feels as if the entire food critic culture has dissolved into one giant circle jerk, with writers hanging out with chefs and chefs hanging out with writers and chefs and writers judging reality shows together and living inside this bubble of obscene decadence that's completely disconnected from the everyday dining experiences of regular people.

Well, shit.  On one hand, it's easy to dismiss this “woe the common man” criticism as baseless, given MCF's humble beginnings as a cheap food truck parked on a smelly Mission St. corner—never mind their amazing charitable givings to the food bank.  But every time I walk past Mission Chinese with the hopes of delighting my mouth with heaps of Szechuan pickles and thrice cooked bacon, I'm confronted a giant gaggle of idiot food blogger pontificating about the so-called “food truck revolution” outside and walk right past to a cheaper-but-still-remarkable meal at Yamo or Big Lantern.

It wasn't always that way though.  When they first opened, I remember just walking up Lung Shan on a weeknight and sitting right down for dinner, paying a small sum for one of the most innovative meals around.  But that is an increasingly-distant memory, now that Danny Bowien is busy playing rock star with Vice and Bourdain.  Really, the only hopes a “common man” has to getting anywhere near the Mission's most sacred dinner is calling some bike messengers to go and get it for you, just so you can eat it out of a carton on your couch while watching last week's episodes of The Daily Show.

Was this the food critics' fault?  Did they vault these guys into the limelight and prop them up as Gods, making their food worthy of wasting 2 hours of your life on a shitty Mission Street sidewalk?  Perhaps.  Or maybe it's just that fucking good.

[Photo by Nicole Wong | via Grub Street]

Previously on Uptown Almanac: 

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