breakfast & dinner

Last month for M's birthday we celebrated with two very different meals, both fabulous. We started the gray Sunday morning with German beer and pancakes in Hayes Valley, and ended the evening with California style Eastern European cuisine in the Mission.

Suppenkuche: We have been meaning to go here for a long time, but dissuaded by crowds. A friend of ours works there on Sunday mornings and gave us the tip that this is the best time to go. It started filling up very quickly after opening, so getting there right at 10 AM was key, and it also feels like a pretty luxurious time to start drinking. Luckily our friend and server dispelled any slight guilt we might have felt about Sunday morning beer by introducing us to a breakfast beer. It was light and refreshing in the way of a mimosa but grounded in the way of all beers. Then we had two varieties of Helles beers whose names I don't remember now, alongside potato pancakes sweetened with applesauce and pretzels with a mustard sauce and some sort of dark berry sauce. Starches, sugars, and alcohol--tastes that are innately comforting and familiar, and the wooden, boxy restaurant encased their warmth perfectly, especially as it drizzled outside.

Bar Tartine: After resting our stomachs the rest of the day, we ventured out again for dinner. In contrast to the communal table we had at Suppenkuche, we had a cozy corner by the window looking out onto the street, which felt both intimate and open. Here we experienced combinations of flavors we'd never had before, and I'm always really impressed by how people can make the unfamiliar so palatable. It's kind of a random comparison, but the food reminded me of Bjork's music--incredibly creative mixes that are unusual and somehow so good, and make you think, how did someone know to do that? We had the smoked potatoes with black garlic (the smokiness felt like another layer of potato), potato flatbread with garlic and sour cream (the dill and green onion really made this one), and cheese dumpling with nettle sauce (where I learned that nettle is an herb but now forget the taste except to know it was distinctive). For dessert I chose the black sesame pot de crème with brown butter. The intensity of the indulgent flavor was everywhere, from the thin toasted sesame cracker to the smooth cream floating in butter.

It was one of those days punctuated by the very human pleasure of savoring meals. When eating can sometimes fly by as part of a daily routine, I feel lucky to sit, enjoy it, and enjoy it with someone who absorbs it. It felt special to celebrate with two meals out; one in the beginning, one in the end; the bookends seem to fit.