this is my special place. the place where i go when i'm heaving over the toilet with the latest bout of food poisioning. this is my zen.
it is also the place where i live. well, not exactly. it's the view from treasure island over into marin. i don't live in marin. nor would i want to. i'm afraid of all those ropey, pony-tail-pulled-through-the-back-of-the-baseball-cap, suv-driving, baby carriage-wielding former sorority girls running amok over there. scary. but i digress, as i always do, into an unjustified, slanderous, unfair rant, as i will. and do. and shall continue to.
but here i am living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world with some of the best, most affordable eats around. this blog is dedicated to documenting my experiences with the cafes, bars, high-falutin' restaurants, low-falutin' restaurants, take-out joints, gas stations, and notable vending machines that litter our byways. but be warned. i have opinions, red-necked, reactionary, knee-jerk, emotional, based-on-nothing-but-a-rank-smell-in-the-air (which is often me) opinions and i'm not afraid to wield them.
also for purposes of full disclosure, you all should know, meaning me and maybe the one person out there who accidentally gets misdirected here en route to a porn site, that i am a vegetarian. okay, mostly vegan except for the occasional pizza and desserts, which i try to keep to a bare minimum (visualize penned-in cows with their heavy, swinging udders, shot up full of milk-producing hormones, hooked up to metal milking machines or something, day after day after day until they're too old to produce and get sent to that nice mc donalds rest home on the corner of mission and 24th). having said that, i love meat and cheese. i really do. i love the smell, the look, the taste. especially bacon. this is just to let you know that i am not one of those grim, anemic, upton sinclair book thumping, humourless vegewhateverans. you can trust me. really.