Finding love is always challenging, but it’s especially hard in a city with tunnel-vision-like focus on appearance for someone who doesn’t match the high standards set for beauty in Los Angeles. 

LA is the national headquarters for the super-fit and the stunningly beautiful. Seemingly perfect-looking people flock here from all corners of the earth, whether for the lure of Hollywood glamour or the glorious weather and sprawling beaches. Perhaps the overflow of models, actresses, and beach bunnies is contributing to Los Angeles’s perpetually landing on lists like “Worst Cities for Women Looking to Marry.” Our “norm” is a practically unattainable standard.

I have never been “the norm.” I have been overweight all my adult life (see also heavy, curvy, voluptuous, fat, “BBW” — whatever term you want to use).

Being a single, overweight woman in Los Angeles, I learned early on that my dating life will never be normal. Not just because men (and women) treat you differently or because single women can be competitive, but because I am my own worst enemy. I impose the most rules, restrictions, and justifications in my life. As the chief lawmaker of my own village, I abide by a somewhat irrational code of conduct.

“If I wear this long jacket and stand just so, no one will even realize how overweight I am.”

“If the lighting at the restaurant is dim enough, I can totally get away with this top.”

“If I wear these heels, my legs will look slimmer. Who cares if my feet hurt like hell all night?”

“If I make self-deprecating jokes about the size of my ass and make him laugh, he’ll fall in love with my sense of humor.”

“If I show up later in the evening, all the beautiful people will have gone home.”

“If I show up earlier in the evening, all the beautiful people won’t be there yet.”

“If he isn’t interested, it’s fine — who meets their soulmate in a bar anyway?”

The list goes on.

I hate being the big girl trying to squeeze into a booth or through the room. It’s downright tough to leverage myself into a cluster of people waiting for drinks at a bar. The most embarrassing moment of my life? Asking a restaurant hostess to move my party to another table because I literally could not fit into a booth. 

In a very pragmatic way, it is also actually physically hard to meet someone in Los Angeles. Our bars and restaurants are crowded, and I hate being the big girl trying to squeeze into a booth or through the room. It’s downright tough to leverage myself into a cluster of people waiting for drinks at a bar. I fear bumping into chairs. The most embarrassing moment of my life? Asking a restaurant hostess to move my party to another table because I literally could not fit into a booth. Sometimes the skinny girl’s easy, fun night out in Hollywood is the fat girl’s night of stressful geographic strategy.

On a more personal level, I’ve found that oftentimes, men can be cruel. I’ve been on the receiving end of some rather shocking insults I never would have dreamt a person could say. One I’ll never forget: “Your shape is not desirable to me.” At least he tried to make it sound like a business transaction. Another I will never forget, but not because it was so tactful: “I would have sex with you, but I’d never be able to introduce you to my friends or family.” I’m not an alien! In fact, I happen to be a very friendly person with a solid sense of humor. But my big hips preclude me from being relationship material?

Would this happen in the Midwest? I honestly don’t know. But it happens here. Nobody likes to be insulted, and when it’s super-cruel in this way, it’s utterly heartbreaking.

I’ve found that oftentimes, men can be cruel. I’ve been on the receiving end of some rather shocking insults I never would have dreamt a person could say. One comment I will never forget: “I would have sex with you, but I’d never be able to introduce you to my friends or family.” 

Some men assume that if you’re overweight, you are also desperate and use that as an excuse to treat you like dirt. Some prey on the vulnerability of heavy girls, hoping to get laid quickly and get out without any further commitments. Worse, some men are fetishists and like you in such a way that it’s actually creepy to be around them. Those are the guys who “really love a cuddler” and couldn’t care less about getting to know you. They hide behind compliments that are really back-handed insults like, “There’s so much more of you for me to squeeze.”

It’s hard to remember that if a guy’s a douchebag, I don’t want him anyway. Of course I don’t. But sometimes all I can remember is the sting of rejection, his cruel remark, or him looking through me to the skinny model in the corner. Similarly, it’s always hard to remember that I do not have to settle, that I am entitled to my happy ending just as much as the next girl, whatever size she may be. No law says I have to lower my standards, even though sometimes a guy will make me feel like I do. Your friends may make you feel that way too. I’ll never forget the time a friend implied that I should “keep to my own.” Since I am heavy, I guess I need to date a heavy guy. There’s a judgmental subtext there. That a skinny guy would never be attracted to a fat girl. That it’s wrong.

To be clear, I’ve dated guys of all shapes and sizes. I do not have to limit myself.

Never let anyone convince you that you’re not entitled to self-respect and pride because of an abnormality. And I think that in the end, what people fail to remember is that we all have our abnormalities — our flaws. Some of them are just out there for everyone to see.

In addition to passing judgment, people make assumptions about what I like, how I feel, and what I eat. It’s always strange and amusing when a man is shocked to learn that I’m successful in my career, drive a nice car, live in a nice home, etc. As if my being plus sized has somehow earmarked me for failure in life across the board. Surely, I must sit at home eating ice cream all the time watching Mike & Molly reruns.

My bottom line on dating is actually what I imagine it would be for many people: never let anyone convince you that you’re not entitled to self-respect and pride because of an abnormality. And I think that in the end, what people fail to remember is that we all have our abnormalities — our flaws. Some of them are just out there for everyone to see. Skinny girls have their own struggles when searching for love too. And if we can remember that fact, we might be able to join forces in the battle instead of walking into a room and identifying anyone who’s different from us as a competitor.

I also find a little comfort in pop culture. Having people like Melissa McCarthy and Billy Gardell on prime-time TV, and seeing bloggers like the Militant Baker and The Curvy Fashionista ascend to mainstream popularity, makes me feel a little less abnormal. Brands like Michael Kors and Calvin Klein are providing fashion options for larger women that are on-trend. These things may not help me find a man, but they do help me smile. And the smile can help me find a man. 

But in the end, I don’t know if the happy ending I’m seeking will be in finding my soulmate. I think instead it might be feeling truly comfortable in my own skin, learning how to be patient, and letting go of some of my silly rules.

Complaining about Muni is a San Francisco tradition as deeply entrenched as poop watching or rent gouging, but get ready to tap your Clipper Card with joy because a whole new round of improvements is coming our way on April 25.

You might’ve heard rumblings in the past about MUNI Forward, the SFMTA’s grand plan to actually make the system faster and better. The main tenets include a rapid bus network, new names for routes, better signage for bus shelters, and a new map that took eight years to see the light of day. Those changes are finally happening. 

Come mid-April, you can expect to see an actual pole that lists what other buses stop at those wavy, red-roofed shelters, along with new bike racks and a light that can shine through fog. More importantly, faster and more regular service is coming to several lines, including some on the weekends. All the changes are outlined below. 

- All “limited” buses will now be labeled “rapid” buses, so the 5L, 9L, 14L, 28L, 38L, and 71L, will now have R’s. 

- Express service on the 1AX/BX, 8 AX/BX, 14X, 30X, 31AX/BX will end around 10 a.m.

- You’ll see the 5R more throughout the day and during peak times. It will also get an additional four buses added to its route.

- The 8 will become frequent during the day, with a bus coming every seven minutes (instead of every nine).

- The 8AX will arrive every six minutes (instead of every eight), will have five more buses during the evening commute, and three more buses in the morning. 

- The 8BX will also arrive every six minutes, with an additional two buses in the morning and five at night.

- The 10 will have two more trips in the morning. 

- The 14R will arrive every 7.5 minutes (instead of every 9), two more buses will run during the week, and it will go from 8 a.m. to 6:47 p.m. on weekends, instead of starting later and ending earlier.  

- The 14X will have four more buses during both its morning and evening commutes, meaning it will arrive every 5.5 minutes when you’re on your way to work and every 7.5 minutes when you're headed to happy hour. It will also run until 10 a.m. inbound and start at 3 p.m.

- The 28 will add another trip in the morning, while the 29 will arrive every 12 minutes (instead of every 15, so those of you who live in the Presidio can jump for joy). 

- The 41 will add one bus to its service during the morning commute. 

- And for those of you who ride the god forsaken 38R and have fond memories of being smashed between 10 people, there will be five more buses during peak times. FIVE! FIVE! It will also run on Sundays.

As for those new route names, they won’t change your life that much but will definitely help newcomers (and tourists) understand exactly where they're going. The new route names and numbers are below.

- The new route names for two lines are: 6 Haight-Parnassus and the 33 Ashbury-18th.

- The 16X Noreiga Express is now the 7X Noreiga Express. The 17 will now go by the number 57; the 71/71L will now be the 7/7R; and the 108 bus to Treasure Island will be the 25. 

- The 8X Bayshore will now just be the 8 Bayshore. 

But, of course, in an effort to become faster and more reliable, a few stops had be removed. Those are also below. 

With all these changes, Muni’s operating hours will go up by 2.5 percent, reportsSFGate, and more increases will come in the fall and again in February 2016.

While all of this is great, I just hope people stop clipping their nails on the bus. 

[h/t SFGate; top photo courtesy of Sonny Abesamis/Flickr]

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Hello, and thank you for checking out the new iteration of The Bold Italic! We are excited to keep a San Francisco institution alive, and are grateful for your continued support. We know you have questions, so here is our attempt to answer some of them.

A bit of history:

As many of you know, The Bold Italic announced it was shutting down in April 2015. The site was previously owned by Gannett Publishing, and was run by an amazing staff that built a great brand over the course of several years.

As readers of the site, we were surprised that TBI was shutting down and were lucky enough to convince Gannett Publishing to sell the assets of the site. If you missed it, NiemanLab wrote a pretty comprehensive piece about the acquisition in June.

As new owners of the site, we spent the past month and a half talking with Bold Italic readers and writers to learn as much as we can. So, here is the plan going forward:

We are gearing up to deliver new and exciting content starting today.  

Since we are starting fresh, and we are the only two full-time staff members, we will begin publishing new articles at a slower clip in order to focus our efforts on quality over quantity.

Authenticity is an essential part of TBI.

One of the reasons people love TBI is its focus on the authenticity of the San Francisco experience. The previous staff did a world-class job in this area, and we will continue that focus in a number of ways, including publishing interviews with San Franciscans from all walks of life.

We will repost some articles.

Over the course of 5 years, TBI produced about 20,000 articles. Thousands of these articles received less exposure than they should have.  To the extent some of these articles are still relevant, we will repost them to give them their due.

TBI’s editorial will stay on course.       

We received feedback from hundreds of readers since we announced the revival of TBI. We know you want us to continue to write about food, all things San Francisco, as well as local activities and getaways (one of our favorites was this). That’s where we’re headed, so you can expect TBI to stay on the path that you’ve grown to love (and hopefully you’ll love it even more). We won’t cover news (aside from some events). That’s never been TBI’s focus.

We are excited to continue the TBI journey and look forward to meeting many of you along the way!

Last month, New Yorker readers in the Pacific Northwest freaked out after reading Kathryn Schulz’s article about the imminent massive earthquake and tsunami in the Cascadia subduction zone. The piece painted a vivid picture of the terrifying possibilities of a 9.0 magnitude quake affecting Oregon and Washington states, which are not well prepared for seismic events. In Seattle, doomsday prepper sites got a surge in traffic and earthquake kits flew off the shelves.

But Bay Area readers probably felt a different set of emotions. For once, the world wasn’t forecasting epic destruction in our neck of the woods. Compared to the Cascadia zone, our faults seem like kid stuff. To make sure we’re not just over-confident or getting earthquake cocky, the Bold Italic talked to a resident seismological expert, Dr. Peter Roopnarine, who chairs the Department of Geology at the California Academy of Sciences.

TBI: So what did you think of the article?

PR: It did an excellent job conveying how really dangerous that system is. Unlike in California, there has been very little attention paid to the danger of the Cascadia system primarily because of the lack of historical experience. And they don’t have the same rigor in terms of preparedness like we do or like Hawaii or Japan have. I saw that there was quite a bit of backlash against the tone of the article, but I didn’t find it inaccurate, maybe it was melodramatic. The lack of planning -- even at the government level -- is pretty shocking!

TBI: Is there a chance that a Cascadia zone earthquake could affect us here in the Bay Area?

PR: Look, we are very remote. The physical impact of an earthquake up there might mean that there are areas in North and Central California that would feel it, if it is magnitude 9.0. But the damage would be minimal because of the distance and the kind of terrain we have in between us. The Cascade mountain range would absorb the energy and the shaking intensity would be fairly minimal. In 2011, when the Japanese earthquake hit, the tsunami did some damage to Santa Cruz and Fort Bragg, so that’s a small possibility. But where we will definitely be affected

is in terms of energy generation because large parts of the Western grid will be impacted and there will be significant infrastructure damage in Oregon, Washington and British Columbia.

TBI:  Seattle is like the carefree grasshopper in Aesop’s fable, and San Francisco is like the industrious ant who spends all summer getting ready for the winter. Will we have to rush in to help them?

PR: Well, the federal agency FEMA is pretty good about this stuff. They run numbers on expected casualties and resources needed as well as the demand on funds that would result.

It’s true that their lack of preparedness makes the situation a lot more dangerous. Even in a seismologically savvy place like Japan, they still designed their nuclear power plant in a vulnerable way. They knew better. So even when we know better, we don’t do our best. We try to get away with what we can.

TBI: OK, but we’re still the more responsible ones, SF seismic building codes are best in class.

PR: In no way are we out of a danger zone here. The San Andreas and Hayward faults are super dangerous, particularly because of the high population densities. The magnitude of the San Andreas doesn’t go as high as the Cascadia potentially can, but the Loma Prieta quake in 1989 was still very strong. Even after decades of upgrades and emergency procedures, we still have a long way to go.  Eventually we will have a major earthquake here, but will it be a big one, or a very big one? It’s difficult to know. 

TBI: Sounds like we should all include Xanax in our earthquake preparation.

PR: All I can say is that the physics of the rocks tells us that sometime within the next several decades, there is a high probability that we are going to have some movement. The predictability of a specific time is very low, but the likelihood of it happening is high.

TBI: So how are you prepared for the big one?

PR: Both my wife and I are geologists. We bought a house three years ago in Berkeley hills. We got a map easily available online from most real estate agencies to show you what the risk factors are in most areas. You can see landslide areas and liquefaction areas. We have an earthquake kit, you can get these at Safeway. We also made a communication plan with our parents and kids and designated gathering points. Our plan is to get messages to my sister in Florida, so that she can relay information if the cell networks are down.

TBI: As a geologist, would you get a special advanced warning?

PR: I wouldn’t, but over at Berkeley, they are developing an early warning system called

ShakeAlert based on the initial compression wave that precedes the quake. There can be about a 30 second lag, but that is all we need to shut down power grids, take trains off line and get the alert out to hospitals and schools.

TBI: And pop the Xanax?

PR: Right.

*Some names have been changed to protect the sources’ identity.

Many of us hardly stop to think about where our weed comes from. Beyond the standard plastic bag exchange, marijuana’s origins generally remain a mystery. So, when I connected with a handful of cannabis farmers to better understand their lives I hardly knew what to expect. My mind flashed between media headlines – ‘marijuana grow disguised as furniture store,’ or ‘cannabis farm fronts as cherry factory.’ Yet, I stumbled onto an entirely different culture – one comprised of spiritual folks and avid farmers working with everything from indoor rooms to acres of sun-kissed land.

So, here’s a chance to get to know five different cannabis farmers, some of which may have grown the greens you last toked.

Nikki and Swami, Laytonville

_{Photo courtesy of Genaro Molina}

For some marijuana farmers, cultivating medicine goes well beyond the physical realm. Nikki, in her 60s, and Swami, 72, epitomize that kind of spiritual connectivity. Their 190-acre Laytonville ranch is far more a cannabis farm – it’s a sanctuary. The entrance to the property hosts divine statues from all religious traditions, ranging from Ganesh and Shiva to Jesus and Buddha.

“We feel that’s our insurance – having all these goddesses around here,” Nikki jokes. 

While they’ve been growing cannabis in Laytonville for the past 11 years, the pair has strong ties to San Francisco. Nikki, a fourth-generation San Franciscan spent much of her early life in the city, working at The San Francisco Chronicle. Swami, an original hippie of the Summer of Love, moved to San Francisco from the east coast after college. He grew his first cannabis crop on Telegraph Hill, a scene bookended by views of Coit Tower and the Bank of America building.

The couple later lived near the Himalayan region of India, where Swami notes many popular marijuana strains originate from. Twelve years ago the couple settled in Mendocino County and began cultivating cannabis after working with Tim Blake founder of Area 101. For the last 11 years, the pair has grown outdoor cannabis and also serve as judges for the marijuana industry’s annual Emerald Cup.

Known for their brand, Swami Select, the couple organically grows twenty-five plants and up to twelve different strains. Proponents of sun-grown cannabis cultivation, Nikki and Swami feel that growing alongside nature expands the plants’ capacity. 

“We grow in respect, harmony and balance with the environment...so the plant realizes its own divine nature, and so that divinity in the plant can actually fill up and inspire the people using it,” says Swami.

The full-time farmers grow for Oakland’s Harborside Health Center, their own cannabis collective, and also work with Flow Kana, a new farm-to-table cannabis delivery app for San Francisco and Oakland residents. Harvesting a range of plants, some strains come with high cannabidiol (CBD) levels, evoking a more intellectual, spiritual, high. Other strains, like Royal Purple, offer equal parts THC and CBD, which are more common in medicinal use. Although, for Nikki and Swami it’s not just about the numbers – it’s about the whole experience.

“We want to teach the mindfulness of smoking, so you’re very aware what it looks like, what it smells like, what it tastes like – making it an experiential thing, which focuses you in on the beneficial aspects of the cannabis,” says Swami. 

Despite their vibrant personalities, it’s not all rainbows and sunshine for these eccentric growers. Like any other farmers, Nikki and Swami deal with destructive mildew and insects, as well as ground squirrels that chew on the plants’ stalks for water amidst the drought. Yet, one of their biggest problems comes from outside their homestead’s ecosystem.

“Any problem you have as a farmer you’re going to have in cannabis, but in cannabis at the moment you have a whole other legal problem of people dropping out of the sky in helicopters and chopping down plants,” says Swami. “We have the legal right to grow this. People need this medicine. They want this medicine... It’s the original medicine.” 

Casey O’Neill, Laytonville

_{Photo courtesy of Flow Kana}

Over the last forty years, cannabis growers have been taught to keep their heads down – to avoid attracting attention. Casey O’Neill, owner of HappyDay Farms, isn’t one those of people. Vocal about the rights and legitimacy of his local cannabis community, the thirty-two year-old has become an informal representative for small-scale marijuana farmers. 

“This year [our farm] became public about growing cannabis, and it was the first year I could walk around my plants and not be afraid. The difference in that energy was noticeable in the medicine,” says Casey. “It’s a highly emotional thing for me, to finally, for the first time in my life, be able to emerge from this culture of fear.”

Native to Laytonville, Casey is a second-generation cannabis farmer who grew up on the same 20-acre homestead where he currently lives and grows his crops. While he enjoyed his upbringing on the farm, he remembers the raids of the late 1980s. Military helicopters once landed on his property, chopped 30 marijuana plants, and stormed through his home – a scene relatively common for Mendocino County cannabis farmers.

Casey, his partner, Amber, and his parents share the same land parcel. They cultivate approximately 25 cannabis plants and 30-40 different fruit and vegetable crops across two acres. Their range of edibles fuels a year-round farmers market stand, as well as an organic CSA. Casey started growing cannabis outdoors in 2005 after finishing college at Pacific University. In 2011 he and Amber expanded their growing practice by launching the CSA. This sparked a consciousness shift that he wasn’t just a ‘grower,’ but a farmer. Up until last year Casey worked on the farm part-time, supplementing income as a carpenter. Last year the couple took the jump, fully devoting themselves to the homestead.

Casey and Amber operate their own cannabis collective and were the first farmers to partner with Flow Kana’s delivery platform. Casey’s time-intensive process consists of harvesting each plant as an individual. He labels each string with the name of the plant, its strain, where it was located, and the date of harvest. Using computer analytics, he tests the medical efficacy of the 27 varieties he currently grows. He looks forward to spreading the positive energy as his plants make their way through San Francisco neighborhoods.

 “It’s a source of energetics...we put good energy into [our cannabis] before putting it out into the world, because it’s a ripple effect. It’s going to make your day better, and you’re going to put that energy into the world.” 

Jude, Mendocino County

Meet Jude – an herbalist and first generation cannabis farmer. She and her partner live off the grid on a 100-acre permaculture farm. Striving to create a closed loop system, they run their own electricity, catch their water, and have a humanure system – impressive to say the least.

“It’s like being on a ship. You’re in charge of all the systems and you got to keep it going. You got to keep sailing,” says Jude. “It’s cool, because you don’t take anything for granted. You see where everything comes from and where everything goes.”

Along with running the farm’s infrastructure, Jude and her partner grow 25 organic marijuana plants, 100 different fruit and nut trees, and a vast spectrum of medicinal herbs. She’s been a cannabis farmer and herbalist for over twenty years. While she dabbled in landscaping and vegetable gardening before growing, her cannabis journey didn’t begin until 1993 when she sustained injuries in a serious car accident. After being turned down for disability, she connected with a former client who needed help tending her indoor marijuana farm.

Twenty-two years later, Jude grows a wide range of cannabis strains including Northern Lights and Berry White, a hybrid of Blueberry and White Widow. Although she’s quite involved with breeding CBD rich strains with high THC-dominant strains (resulting in productive, powdery mildew-resistant plants), her core passion sits with the seeds.

“I go pretty crazy about seeds in general - especially the cannabis seeds, because [it’s] such an amazing, combined, inspiring, healing, sacred plant...The cannabis has just been more of the divine force of nature that’s led us here,” says Jude. “We’re partners with [it] to spread this amazing, healing energy around the world.” 

Jude’s marijuana ends up in various parts of California – some in San Francisco, some in SoCal, while others are transformed into extracts and concentrates for cancer patients in her local community. Regardless of where it lands, Jude believes in its powerful, healing abilities. 

Like other cannabis farmers in her county, the ongoing threat of looming helicopters is quite nerve wracking. Jude and other community members are currently attempting to pass an initiative to change the status of cannabis to an agriculture crop in the eyes of the California government. This would pave a path for business licenses and regulations that help family farms stay in the market, while adhering to specific standards. Until then, she’s says they’re just sitting ducks, but continues to have faith. In the meantime, she focuses on her family farm, a place where her grandchildren, nieces, and nephews visit and learn to grow food and medicine, while visualizing their own ideal livelihoods.

James, San Mateo County 

While outdoor growers make up a portion of the cannabis industry, there’s also an abundance of small-scale, urban cultivators like James. This 29-year-old has been growing marijuana for the past 15 years. His interest in cultivating began as a high school student when he decided to grow his own pot instead of buying from others.

“The person who I was buying [cannabis] from didn’t want me to have seeds, so I was up at my uncles’ and was telling him about it. He was like, ‘here you go,’ and handed me some White Widow seeds,” says James.

In his early days, he started out with about 12 plants, some of which were initially grown on his outdoor balcony. As years passed, he moved the cannabis indoors to an enclosed room, adding air circulation and grow lights.

These days, he cultivates anywhere from 20 to 22 plants, which have been sold to Divinity Tree, Green Cross, and The Green Door. His plants include local strains like Cookies, Mad Science, and Mango Trainwreck. Between the trimming, rotating, insect checks, and curing, James spends about 20 to 30 hours a week tending to his greens.

An avid edible gardener, he also grows zucchini, tomatoes, kale, spinach, and corn in a backyard plot. When he’s not managing his plants, he works as a waiter and lends a hand in community gardens. While his cannabis crop is currently indoors, James hopes to take it to the next level in the future.

“My dream garden would be 100% waste free, 100% green with solar and wind turbines, and, lastly, 100% legal,” says James.

It’s a Friday night. You want to eat something new and tasty, but you’re watching your purse strings these days and don’t want to blow it all on one dinner. You, my friend, are in luck by virtue of being in San Francisco! Sure, your rent might be ridiculously high, you just got another parking ticket, and you are living paycheck to paycheck. Fortunately, SF has a plethora of affordable, delicious eating options. Here are a few you should check out now:

Sai Jai Thai

771 O'Farrell

Kor Moo Yang ($8.95)

Don’t be put off by the neighborhood. Sai Jai Thai is located on the edge of the Tenderloin on a slightly seedy block, but it offers some of the most authentic Thai food in the city. I can vouch for this as someone who has visited Thailand multiple times. Lers Ros may get all the press, but Sai Jai is the real deal. The not-to-miss dish here is the Kor Moo Yang or, as I like to call it, Pork Crack on Fried Rice. Glistening, juicy, fatty slices of pork shoulder lie delicately on top of a bowl of flavorful fried rice, with a side of chili sauce for some extra zing. The salty/fatty/chewy combination of the pork shoulder with the delicately flavored rice will put you in heaven in no time.

Tacorgasmico

2337 Market

Carnitas Tacos ($4 per taco)

This restaurant popped up in the Castro a few months ago and is one of the few restaurants in San Francisco to bring truly authentic Yucatan cuisine to the masses. The décor is offbeat and fun—lots of skulls and mini murals. They also make their tortillas from scratch, which is a rare find and adds to the complex flavor of the tacos. As a one-time LA resident, I’ve often been disappointed by the quality of the tortillas in Mission taquerias, but Tacorgasmico does it right. Do try the carnitas tacos—each fresh tortilla is loaded with meat—or, alternatively, the Gordita with Cochinita Pibil ($5).

Cheung Hing

2339 Noriega

Roast Duck on Rice ($7.50)

Take your bike or ride the N for a little jaunt to the Sunset, where you can get one of the best-value dinners in town. Prepare to wait in line, even at off times like 3:00 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon. This is where Chinese families line up to order whole roast ducks or BBQ pork ribs in bulk. My dining companion and I both ordered the Roast Duck on Rice, a generous serving of crispy roast-duck pieces served on top of a bed of seasoned rice, made even more delicious by the duck fat soaking into it. The skin is perfectly crispy, well salted, and juicy on the inside. I felt my arteries clogging afterward, but hey—it’s duck, and it’s supposed to be fatty! Just go for a jog to Ocean Beach afterward to run it off. 

Ramen Yamadaya

1728 Buchanan

Tonkotsu Kotteri Ramen ($9.75)

Ramen Yamadaya is a cult favorite in LA and opened up their SF location in Japantown about a year and a half ago. Their claim to fame is their rich, fatty, flavorful broth, which is created by boiling pork bones for over 20 hours and then filtering the broth for any sediment to get the perfect mouth feel and flavor. The Tonkotsu Kotteri Ramen dish boasts another layer of complexity—black garlic oil in the broth—taking the sensory experience to another level. The noodles are of a thinner, chewier consistency than those of many other ramen shops, and the slices of pork on the ramen literally melt in your mouth.

4505 Burgers & BBQ

705 Divisadero

Best Damn Grass Fed Burger ($8.75)

This is hands down one of the best burgers you can find in the city. 4505 Burgers& BBQ uses a 100% grass-fed patty (for those of you who haven’t had grass-fed beef, you have not lived!) sandwiched between a buttery, fluffy sesame bun with Gruyère cheese, grilled onions, lettuce, and “secret sauce.” If you are feeling especially gluttonous, order a side of fries for $4. They’re cooked in tallow (commonly known as beef fat) and are salty, crispy, and delicious to the last morsel. It’s a heart attack on a plate, but most of the ingredients are locally sourced and organic, so you will die happy. 

A couple of years ago, my husband and I were at a bar with some friends we hadn’t seen in a while, when one of them turned to us and asked, “So what’s it like to be married?” We both glanced at each other, a bit bewildered. “We’re not aliens,” I said laughingly. We may as well have been. Apparently, being married in San Francisco is like being a hipster without Warby Parkers. It just doesn’t exist. I’m a Millennial, and it seems like, in my generation, it’s easier to find people who have longer relationships with their Lyft drivers than with their dates, let alone engage in this foreign concept of marriage.

 It’s amazing that my husband and I met only six years ago. When we first embarked on our wonderful world of courtship, Android phones hadn’t even come to market. Smartphones were virtually (no pun intended) nonexistent. So much of what we do, how we currently engage one another, and our access to information all happen on mobile devices. At that time, we were devoid of any technological distractions and dated the old-fashioned way: he picked me up at my apartment and brought me flowers; he cooked dinner and planned activities; and we did the parental meet-and-greet and talked about our future. Within a year, we got engaged. A year later, we got married. Would my life have been dramatically different if all this were happening now? I think so. Why? For so many reasons.

 I met my husband in a bar. I let him buy me a drink. The drink led to conversation. The conversation led to dancing, which led to laughing, which led to an in-person chat until 5:00 a.m. about who we are, what we did, and how we want to change the world. We dated for a year, after which he dropped a bombshell that he was moving to India to run a start-up and wanted me to join him. INDIA? Land of mosquitos and malaria?! I had just graduated from law school, and at age 25, my career hadn’t even begun. But I said yes. I don’t even remember it being a big life-changing decision. It was simple—I loved my boyfriend, and I wanted to be with him.

Though six years ago may not have been the age of snail mail and smoke signals, it wasn’t the video-chatting and virtual world it is today. Had I chosen not to jump on board, our communication would have been restricted to phone calls, e-mails, and texts. Had the same technology that exists today been available years ago, I might have been more inclined to stay on this side of the world and attempt to sustain a relationship through FaceTime and WhatsApp. So I took a risk, placing a bet on a man who may not have been perfect. But given the chance, I figured, he could be the perfect person for me.

Without a doubt, nothing is better than physical presence and face-to-face interaction. The Silicon Valley mantra, however, boasts of technology as this inter-webbed engine that can seamlessly connect people everywhere. If that’s true, the relationships we form should reflect those deeper bonds and lasting associations. This then begs the seemingly obvious question of whether technology actually does forge those connections. And at what point do the human elements of effort, understanding, empathy, and trust manifest themselves? At what point does technology become more hurtful rather than helpful? I can think of at least three cursory ideas.

The first is that technology has impeded our ability to be real. It has enabled our peers to create both a public mask and a virtual mask, through which the dynamic of our characters is constantly in flux. The virtual mask is the one most prevalently employed, as it’s the persona we reflect when we e-mail/text/Tweet/chat/Facebook/Instagram/e-date. The virtual mask is a facilitator of curation—timed witty responses, layer upon layer of filtered photo shares, and “#blessed” status updates, which are all examples of self-empowering, or perhaps self-involved, behavior. However, what happens when, after a few exchanges of canned banter back and forth via text or on a dating app, you’re forced to interact with your e-date in a physical, nonvirtual world? Awkward silence? Polite laughter? The lines between what’s real and what’s online become clouded, and the root problem of the issue is that what we do online is not necessarily a snapshot of who we are. Rather, it’s how we want others to see us.

In a survey regarding these issues involving singles throughout the city, 68 percent said they did not believe they presented themselves differently in the public world versus on a dating app or when texting with a potential date. The really noteworthy data point, however, is that the same percentage felt that when they met their date in person, he or she was completely different from the person who appeared online or via text. The end conclusion? People don’t believe that technology interferes with their ability to be real in both worlds, but apparently there is a serious disconnect, since those on the receiving end do see a misalignment.

Second, having the option to date a never-ending conveyor belt of prospects gives people the chance to be overly picky under the premise that there are plenty of more fish in the sea. “I would never date someone who brought me red roses on the second date,” one girl told me. I was completely perplexed. When I asked why, I was told, “It’s too strong. Lilies maybe, but roses? No way!” Apparently, “It’s the thought that counts” had been tried, tested, and tossed. I experienced a similar sentiment on the male side. “Nah, if she didn’t like the Niners, that’d be a deal breaker,” one guy friend pronounced. Moreover, I learned that standard first dates for e-daters involve grabbing coffee or drinks so they can plan an escape route if (and, more likely, when) their date goes south of blah. “What if someone you met online suggested an activity you both expressed interest in, such as a bike ride or a cooking class?” I probed to see if there was somewhere more scintillating that would allow one to form a bond than a mundane bar or a stuffy coffee shop. Again, I got similar responses on both sides. No one wanted to commit to anything more than an obligatory beverage before fully qualifying their lead. The instantaneous nature of technology has not just created a shift in our mindset; it’s generated an expectation of satisfaction right away.

The problem is that many people in my generation are always looking for “someone better” or an “instant click,” but they don’t necessarily want to invest the initial time or take the risk that’s needed to form a real relationship. The people I observe in successful, happy relationships are those who go with the flow, are willing to take a chance, and understand that no one is going to meet every single quality they desire. The Hinges, Tinders, and Coffee Meets Bagels of the e-dating pond offer their users access to all these fish, but when one takes the bait, the angler actually has to reel it in.  

Finally, technology takes instant gratification to another level, becoming an insatiable beast. Rideshare on demand. Food on demand. COOKIES on demand (not that I’m complaining, Doughbies). San Francisco thrives on leveraging technology to make things more efficient and convenient. When it comes to relationships, it’s impossible to apply the same algorithms to dating. “Clicking” on demand doesn’t always amount to clicking in person. Relationships and marriage take effort and understanding—a human element not built into the functionality of apps like Hinge. When my husband and I moved to India, we were only one year into our relationship. We had no money and no friends, and we had just begun living together for the first time—all this in a city surprisingly more expensive than London, and with less infrastructure than Rwanda. Enduring experiences such as a failed start-up, three bed-ridden weeks of typhoid, and wedding planning across the globe strengthened our relationship and brought us closer as a team.

It might just be that the online hyper-connectedness of our society today has simply gone too far. Those looking for love are inundated with too many connections, too many apps, and too many swipes. The social norms for our culture have shifted with technological advancements, yet most of the expectations people have are still based off of romcom media and traditional ideologies. It wouldn’t hurt to occasionally trade in texting for talking and Instagraming for investment. While having a virtual library of prospects surely aids in building a potential dating pipeline, it’s equally important to remember that people online are mostly one-dimensional. The lumbersexual enjoying a brewski at Suppenküche is not only how he appears. Take a risk and go say hi. 

_{Photo Courtesy of Lam Phan}

San Francisco’s 1960s rock scene helped put the city on the music map and was associated with a decade-long counterculture era that shook the nation. But while musicians sang songs about free love and equality, many familiar paradigms stayed in place. With the exception of a few bands that featured female vocals, like Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead, the industry mostly remained male dominated. Over the past 50 years, much has changed in the Bay Area’s music scene, and now female musicians are just as common as their male counterparts.

In the spirit of #yasqueen,The Bold Italic compiled a list of a few female Bay Area musicians who released EPs and albums this year. And while gender discrimination in the musical sphere isn’t as prevalent as it once was, we still salute these artists for being badass musicians who also happen to be ladies.

Kendra McKinley, a San Francisco-based singer/songwriter/guitarist, recently released a new single called “Fine as Vine.” Her 1960s chamber-pop sound and strong, undulating vocals—which slightly resembles St. Vincent (Annie Clark)—will make you feel like ditching work to skip through a field of sunflowers with your new lover.

Although she’s played throughout the Bay Area, she says that her favorite show was at the Fillmore this January, when she played with the string quartet Amaranth as part of the venue’s first all-female lineup. She might have torn it up on the all-female stage, but she hopes that her audience views her as a talented musician, regardless of her gender. “I’ve met so many interesting and talented people here in the Bay Area and appreciate them simply as creative people,” she said. “I look forward to the day when we just start referring to music makers as musicians.”

Don’t miss this badass chick perform at the Rickshaw Stop on August 22.

Photo courtesy of Sarah Bethe Nelson

Sarah Bethe Nelson is a Bay Area native whose debut album, Fast-Moving Clouds, was released in March 2015 on Burger Records. Her lo-fi sound and smooth guitar melodies are reminiscent of Red House Painters and Courtney Barnett. Her song “Paying” will remind you of an epic road trip down the Pacific Coast Highway to Big Sur.

Like McKinley, Nelson says that she’s always felt a sense of belonging in the local scene because there are many “amazing women kicking ass in music,” so she’s never felt marginalized. “The musical community is really supportive and cool in the Bay Area. It has a small-town feel to it,” she explained.

Catch Nelson’s next show at Brick & Mortar Music Hall on September 18.

Photo Courtesy of Kristina Esfandiari

Kristina Esfandiari’s music features rich vocals and heavy instrumentation. She’s currently the lead singer of the moody and dark band King Woman and retains her solo project, Miserable. However, she’s most well known for previously fronting the shoegaze band Whirr. King Woman released their first EP, Doubt, in early 2015.

Esfandiari says that the Bay Area music scene is “killer” because she’s surrounded by other talented musicians who root for each other. “Celebrate the success of other females,” she advises up-and-coming artists. “It's important to have a sense of sisterhood; we have to stick together no matter what.”

Photo courtesy of Lila Rose

Oakland-based Lila Rose’s dreamy, dark, and mysterious sound is like a combination of Björk and Joanna Newsom, yet her soulful and distinctive voice sets her apart from most electro-pop musicians. On her Bandcamp page, Rose describes her music as “cinematic indie rock.”

Rose says that although the music industry is saturated with males, she is still surrounded by many talented women who inspire her to break down barriers. “I adore being a female musician in the bay. I feel supported and empowered to be myself fully, which enables me to empower and support other females to do the same thing.” 

Rose’s performances are just as magical as her sound. Her most memorable show was at the Independent in May, when she performed using a multimedia contraption replete with a cage that she sung in and a projection of 3-D images and videos She’ll be playing songs from her new album, We.Animals, on September 29 at Leo’s in Oakland and on October 16 at the Chapel.

Photo courtesy of Emily Whitehurst

Emily Whitehurst, who got her start in the punk rock band Tsunami Bomb, released a new album called “Way to Go” with her indie pop rock band Survival Guide. Her strong and sassy vocals merge with staccato guitar riffs into pure euphony.

Coming from a punk rock background, Whitehurst was often the only woman to take the stage during a show. But for the most part, she says that the local scene is friendly to people of all genders. “In Bay Area indie rock, we’ve got Doe Eye, Tune-Yards, K.Flay, Cathedrals, Heartwatch, the Y Axes, Beautiful Machines, Happy Fangs, the Family Crest, and so many more bands with female musicians,” she explained. “I also haven’t encountered a lot of competition, which is awesome, because there is enough success for everyone, and helping each other only makes our scene better.”

Be sure to bring your dancing shoes to this badass lady’s next performances on October 2 at 924 Gilman and October 21 at Leo's!

_{Hero Image Courtesy of Allan Wan}

I am writing this on breaks between bathroom visits.

Having an iron stomach (a lifelong claim that I have now rescinded), I thought it would be funny to find five of the worst-rated Yelp restaurants to see if the outspoken people of the Internet were fair in their judgments. For those unfamiliar with Yelp (is anyone in SF unfamiliar with Yelp?!), it’s a website/app that lets diners and patrons rate and comment on the quality of the businesses they visit. I often use Yelp to choose restaurants, but I think most commentators on it are whiners with too much time on their hands.

Starting out, I quickly discovered that there is no way to sort restaurants by lowest rating (a flaw or on purpose?), so I used search keywords such as “worst,” “food poisoning,” and “gross” to find restaurants that had a one- to two-star rating (and that were still in business). I learned that it’s not possible to give zero stars, so one is the lowest rating possible. Note to Yelp: some places deserve less than one star.

In a city full of amazing food, it was harder to find duds than I thought. But I found five restaurants that failed to please and headed out with low expectations and a full bottle of Pepto-Bismol. (I made it to only four.)

There’s been many a night when I’ve dragged my brave and strong-stomached friends out to eat risky food. But this time, none of them accepted the invitation. I am grateful they didn’t come along.

I am now on day 3 of not eating, but somehow there are still things left in my body to spew out. It was shitty timing—pun intended. We were out of toilet paper in our house. I’ve been fighting food poisoning using paper towels to wipe. 

Where I Ate (So You Don’t Have To):

Chinatown Restaurant, 744 Washington Street, SF

408 reviews

1.5 star rating

Chinatown Restaurant is exactly where you think it is. And it serves exactly what you think it does. A self-proclaimed “landmark since 1919,” the restaurant is hated on Yelp for two main reasons: the food and the service. More specifically, for shady gratuity practices and bill additions. 

I ordered the dim sum, which, they advertised proudly (“proudly” meaning the descriptions include an exclamation point), is served all day(!). I was just one person, and it was light. I’d eaten both of these dishes (shrimp noodle roll and Shanghai soup dumplings) a million times, so it would be easy to review. 

 Highlights (Or “What Wasn’t So Bad”):

The soup dumplings were fine. I’m lucky enough to live next to two great SF spots that serve this dish and am spoiled. These were edible, though I was nervous to finish them. 

I was almost won over at the end by a surprise free dessert—green-tea ice cream and a fortune cookie. It would have been a saving grace, had the ice cream actually tasted like green tea and not vanilla that was dyed green. 

Lowlights (Or “What Was Really Bad”):

There were pigeons inside the restaurant—one hopping around on the floor and another flying around. The latter did a dramatic performance—a dinner-theater act of sorts—when it repeatedly ran into a window, much to the horror of the patrons. The servers didn’t seem to care and let the thing repeatedly ram itself into the glass while a diner tried to help the poor bird. I silently wondered if there’s a health-code violation for bird suicide near the kitchen.

After taking 30 minutes to arrive, the shrimp in my dim sum was shriveled and dry and weirdly tasted like a soft pretzel. The surrounding rice noodle was OK, but that's hard to mess up. The first two bites were fine. The last was one was goopy, and I abandoned ship.

The service was much worse than the food. I did notice some customers in another room having to walk to ours to be served, and I had to get up to ask for a check, despite there being only a few people in the restaurant. My tip wasn’t added automatically, but they did try to cheat me on change, albeit only by coins. It took me about 20 minutes to pay.

Yelp Review Gem:

“Would I go back? Not if I had any other option, but it would certainly be preferable to nibbling off a body part, if I were hungry enough.”

Sinbad’s Pier2 Restaurant, 141 The Embarcadero, SF

527 reviews

2 stars

Sinbad’s is a seafood restaurant that seems to mostly attract tourists looking for a bay view. Anyone who has been down to the Ferry Building has likely seen this place a million times and wondered about it. I went around happy hour, and the deck was filled with people drinking beers and watching the traffic move slowly along the Bay Bridge. I was seated immediately at a booth meant for five to six people. I guess they weren’t expecting to fill up.

I tried to order the San Francisco crab cakes and asked what “San Francisco style” meant, but the waiter told me that I wouldn’t like them since I don’t live in SF. I thought about interrupting him to let him know that I do, in fact, live here, but he wouldn’t stop talking, and I didn’t care enough about crab cakes to interrupt.

So I ordered a Boston clam chowder (thinking that after five years in Boston, I would be worthy to judge the quality) and a shrimp cocktail (thinking it would be hard to mess that up). I was very wrong.

Highlights (Or “What Wasn’t So Bad”):

I asked if the clam chowder was made in-house. The waiter, offended, said, “Of course!” and pointed toward the water, as if being on the ocean guaranteed that everything was homemade. The soup ended up tasting goopy but fine, except for some sand. I wouldn’t bet money on the fact that it was homemade, but it was still sanitary. 

Despite some reviews recounting food on the floor and unwelcoming staff, Sinbad’s was clean and inviting and didn’t have any weird smells.

Lowlights (Or “What Was Really Bad”):

The shrimp cocktail contained the smallest shrimp I’ve ever seen. Ever. I learned that the shrimp cocktail I was expecting was a little more expensive and called “prawn cocktail.” The odd-looking mini shrimp in my cup were mushy and not totally peeled. They had definitely been frozen and defrosted poorly. I could take only two bites.

When I complained, the waiter said, “Mushy? Huh.” And then he walked away. But he delivered my bill and didn’t charge me for the shrimp. He must have known what a disappointment this was.

Yelp ReviewGem:

“For a better meal, you could lick crumbs off the floor of the Ferry Building.”

Shiki, 251 Third Street, SF

75 reviews

1.5 stars

All my friends warned me not to eat raw fish somewhere that had a 1.5-star rating.  And I agreed with them. That is, until I walked into Shiki and realized it was just a clone of any mall sushi place. It was clean, and I have a weird affinity for mall sushi, so I changed my order from an avocado roll and risked it with a tekka maki (raw tuna) and a miso soup. I haven’t eaten since, three days later. Though for the sake of fairness, I ate this during the same hour as I ate Indian (the next review), so I can’t totally guarantee that this meal was the trigger.

Highlights (Or “What Wasn’t So Bad”):

The tekka maki wasn’t bad. I wouldn’t say it was “good,” but I’ve definitely had worse sushi … by taste (aftereffect is a different story). But it was definitely edible and passable as low-quality sushi. 

Weirdly, the ginger was really good and flavorful.

The “sushi chef” (a.k.a. the only other person except me in the restaurant) used gloves when making the sushi. I thought this was a good sign.

The miso soup was fine—not great, but fine. (Disclaimer: I spent a lot of time living on instant miso soup in Hawaii, so I have a low-quality standard for this. It very well could have been instant soup.)

Lowlights (Or “What Was Really Bad”):

My initial visit was disrupted when I went during Shiki’s posted hours, and they had decided to close … five hours early.

I have been stuck on a toilet since, for three days.

Yelp Review Gem:

“Aggressively bad food. Literally bad food: my salmon had spoiled probably the day before. My friend got the chicken teriyaki bento box, and they microwaved the chicken right in front of us, which, I suppose, is honest, at the very least.”

Muskaan Cuisine of India, 101 Spear Street A23, SF

63 reviews

1.5 stars

Like Shiki, this place didn’t keep its posted hours, so I had to return and just made it through the doors on my return visit. Indian food is one of those cuisines that doesn’t always agree with diners’ stomachs, even when the quality is really good. I’d never had an issue and figured that if I stuck to vegetarian meals, I’d be fine. Muskaan is in the food court of the Rincon Center, and I found that there are few things more depressing than eating bad Indian food in an office-building food court.  My advice: take your lunch break somewhere else.

Highlights (Or “What Wasn’t So Bad”):

The rice wasn’t terrible. 

Lowlights (Or “What Was Really Bad”):

Despite being the only customer in the place, the woman behind the counter initially ignored me and stayed on her iPhone the entire time as I ordered and was served. She did take a break while I paid.  

The same spoon was used to serve different dishes. 

The food looked like slop, like that gruel of school lunch myths. It had a weird grainy consistency like that of instant grits. It could have been days old. The naan was doughy and flavorless. All the other food blended together in color and consistency. I took two bites of the vegetable masala, one bite of the paneer, and two bites of the aloo ghobi before I tossed it.

It wasn’t cheap—two dishes for $10 would often be a deal in other cuisines, but Indian lunch buffets are often less than $10.

Yelp Review Gem:

“I'm angry as hell that I paid $12 for this foul gruel. I’m about to go back over there and let them have it, right in the face.”

I must admit I was confused by the toast trend when I first heard about it. My roommate was going on and on about how she wanted to go to a place with amazing toast … that cost $4. “It’s more than just toast,” she replied slightly defensively when I ranted about how I didn’t want to pay more than one dollar for toast. Can you blame me?

Finally, I accompanied her on an adventure that would forever change the way I look at baked wheat-flour dough. I’d prefer not to reveal which establishment popped my toast cherry, but it was real good—the “I don’t give a fuck what time of day, how much it costs, or how long it takes for me to get there” kind of good.

So I’ve arrived on the other side: I love toast. Sure, the ingredients are simple, but the explosions in your mouth are complex. A toasted slice of bread no longer looks like vanilla ice cream to me. It’s like a rare seasonal flavor at Bi-Rite Creamery. If you want to join me on this toast journey, here’s where to go:

A cozy café nestled in the Outer Sunset on Noriega Street, Home offers five variations of artisanal toast with prices that range from $3.75 to $6.00. The owners, Annie Cheng and her boyfriend, In Ho, opened the café in February 2015. They bake the bread in-house and make the toast themselves too. There’s a “friends to lovers” story within this adorable establishment: Cheng and Ho had been crushing on each other for 13 years but didn’t confess their feelings until a year and a half ago. Anyway, I fell hard for the condensed milk and butter one ($4 a piece), which Cheng said is a customer favorite. The moment you cut open the bread, the butter oozes down like a waterfall of greatness. Did I mention they torch the condensed milk to caramelize it on top? So. Many. Textures.

Trouble Coffee and Coconut Club (4033 Judah Street)

Known to be where the toast movement first originated in SF, Trouble is another popular destination in the Outer Sunset. This hole-in-the-wall dive café has resided on Judah Street since 2007—you can read the heartwarming story here. The toast experience at Trouble is truly unique. There’s no menu; you just simply wait in line (which can be pretty long on Saturday mornings) and ask for a slice of toast, and you’ll receive the classic: bread, butter, and cinnamon for $4 a slice. The other option is the peanut butter, honey, and nutella slice, but the barista always recommends the classic if you’re a first-timer. Pair it with a coconut drink and sit outside on what looks like a fallen tree, and you’ve got yourself the perfect start to a wonderful day.

The Mill (736 Divisadero Street)

The Mill receives an A++ in my book not only because of their delicious toast but also because of their rustic and adorable décor. Seriously, you can’t help but feel like you’re in a Pottery Barn showroom when you enter the Alamo Square establishment. As for the toast, you have four options to choose from—all $4 a piece—which range from savory on rye to cinnamon sugar on a slice of country bread. My favorite is the walnut bread with butter and maple syrup. It’s the perfect mix of simple and sweet. You also don’t feel like you’re on the brink of cardiac arrest after eating it. FYI, all their bread is baked in-house too.  

Réveille Coffee Co. (4076 18th Street and 200 Columbus Avenue)

With two locations serving toast, in the Castro and North Beach, Réveille Coffee Co. is a hip place with a small menu. This is the place to go if you’re a savory-leaning person who would prefer a simple avocado toast ($4.50 a slice). Made on Acme bread, it’s a decent-size breakfast that will fill you up—especially if you add a fried egg on it for an extra $1.50. 

If you love toast but can’t afford to spend $4 a slice, there is a good DIY remedy. And no, I’m not just talking about popping a slice of Wonder Classic White into the toaster. If there’s anything I’ve learned from these world-class toasteries, it’s that it’s all about the bread. Quality bread equals mouth-watering toast. Luckily, living in San Francisco, you have access to many local bakeries (Tartine Bakery, Josey Baker Bread at the Mill, Arizmendi, and Devil's Teeth Baking Company come to mind). Take a piece, toast it up, and add your favorite ingredients. Yum!

Onward and upward, my fellow toast lovers. If you have a favorite place for fancy bread, let us know. 

Hero Image Courtesy of Kliff Rebaya.

San Francisco has a storied history of speakeasies and old-time bar-and-grills. There’s something romantic about stepping into certain old-school San Francisco bars and grabbing a drink. As a photographer, I decided to take a closer look at four of my favorites.

Tadich Grill 

Established in 1849

Neighborhood: Financial District

Pictured Drink: Old Fashioned

Known for: Seafood Cioppino and super sour sourdough

Catering to long-time San Franciscans, business professionals, and tourists alike, Tadich Grill oozes with local history. Go here for super fresh seafood and bartenders who have seen it all and have a real story to tell. As Herb Caen once said, "San Francisco without Tadich Grill would not be San Francisco." Interesting fact: Tadich Grill accepted gold nuggets as payment through 1990.

The Old Clam House

Established in 1861

Neighborhood: Bayview

Pictured Drink: Bloody Shark Chili Mary

Known for: Clams (duh) - Clam Bake Cioppino and Steamed Clams    

Most people won't make the time to head down Bayshore to find the original location of The Old Clam House standing amongst taquerias, fast food restaurants and gas stations. But trust me, it's worth it. Once inside, you're treated to the rich smells of mouth-wateringly tasty seafood and visual delights such as a tin tiled ceiling, vintage collectibles and the original bar from 1861. Challenge: find the photo of the US President in office when this restaurant first opened.

Sam's Grill & Seafood Restaurant

Established in 1867

Neighborhood: Financial District

Pictured Drink: Martini

Known for: Fresh-out-of-the-water fish and sweetbreads 

Sam's Grill was originally an oyster saloon, located where the Bank of America building stands today. Today, its Bush Street location is both cozy and welcoming. If you are lucky, you will get a chance to sit in one of the original booths, complete with a curtain and a "doorbell" to summon your waiter at any time. Open on weekdays only, Sam's is a favorite of local professionals and has been the scene for many a "wet lunch." If only these walls could talk...

John's Grill 

Established in 1908

Neighborhood: Union Square

Pictured Drink: Negroni

Known for: Chicken Jerusalem and Oysters Wellington

The setting for Dashiell Hammett's Maltese Falcon and the first local restaurant to open after the devastating earthquake of 1906, John's Grill preserves its old-timey feels with rich wood paneling, pressed white linen tablecloths and walls covered with black and white photos of famous patrons. Visit the 2nd floor to see a replica of the Maltese Falcon (replaced in 2007 after the original replica was stolen!) and to take in some jazz. Worried about all the construction in the area? Don't stress - John's Grill is still open seven days a week.

I hate running. Even just the thought of it evokes within me a certain childlike petulance. I slouch. I sulk. And more than anything else, my stomach curdles—a bubbling, miasmic discomfort, best described as something like stage fright mixed with food poisoning. The response is innate; I admit it’s a flaw. But for this reason, it’s not surprising that as I’m waiting in line to register for the 2015 Rogue Ales House 5K City Beer Run, all I can think about is finding a bathroom.

The registration table for the day’s 5K had been set up in the beer garden behind the Ales House—a rustic space that City Beer Runs, the company that was putting on  the day’s event, had turned into something of a runners’ party. Stacked on the picnic tables were water coolers, baskets of free wristbands, and complimentary packets of energy jelly, which CBR personnel handed out enthusiastically. Carly Rae Jepson water-ballooned out of the speakers. On a table near the back of the garden, prizes for today’s post-run raffle were displayed—a pot that included an irrationally large box of organic oatmeal (made with chia seeds) and a year’s subscription to Runner’s World magazine.

As the garden filled up, and as my girlfriend, Alex, and I inched forward in line, I forgot about the bathroom for a second and returned to the question that brought me here: Why the hell do people participate in 5K beer runs?

In case you’re like me and spend most of your time watching Netflix, beer runs are events that incorporate alcohol consumption before, during, or after a loosely organized run of varying distances. They’re insanely popular. In the preceding couple of days, I figured that the beer aspect of the whole experience must be what accounts for its popularity. I like drinking beer, especially on Saturdays, and especially before noon. That made sense to me.

Accordingly, I’d assumed while heading into today that people would be drinking beer before the run as well as after. In fact, on the way to the event, Alex and I had stopped by a liquor store and bought two 25 oz. cans of Bud Light just so we could pregame a bit. I’d read that runners are supposed to “carb up” before a big run; that’s how I justified it. 

Turns out, I was wrong. After drinking most of our beer outside the liquor store, chugging for lack of time, we made our way to the beer garden to register. Outside we met a coiled squirrel of a woman named Maggie from Wisconsin. She’d been running in place and checking her pulse when she saw us walking up.

“Oh my god,” she said, stopping abruptly. “What are you guys doing?”

I looked down at my beer, confused. Then I realized.            

“Uh, carbing up?”

By 10:45, nearly 75 runners, clad in only slightly varying shades of Nike performance apparel, assembled in the garden. From my spot in line, I scanned the crowd. Everyone was sweating; at 85 degrees, it was the hottest morning in the history of San Francisco

“I’m not going to let you walk, you know,” Alex said, turning to me as we approached the registration table.

“You’ll be carrying me, then,” I replied, only half kidding. 

Alex, whom I’d brought with me today for moral support, is frustratingly fit—a gazelle in yoga pants. She rolled her eyes and handed me my post-run drink ticket, which I pocketed grumpily.           

We found a place beside one of the picnic tables to stand. I started to look for someone to interview. I found a man whose name I learned to be Nick—a tall, third-time participant from the Panhandle. I asked him what advice he had for a first-time runner.

“You know,” he said, with a finger on his chin, “some people might tell you to carb up. That’s bullshit. Don’t need to. Leads to dehydration and cramping. If you carb up, you’ll be puking by mile 2.”

 I nodded.

“Hmm, yeah, that’s what I heard too.”

Just then the music cut off, and a CBR employee grabbed a microphone.

“Runners,” he said, “iiiiit’s time for the run. Follow your CBR reps to the park to warm up.” 

My stomach dropped again, reminding me of the very real possibility that I might soon poop myself. We left the bar as a pack. We were herded over to Washington Square, where we were compelled to verbally accept liability for our own death, dismemberment, or disturbance, should we have incurred any of the like upon ourselves. I realized why this was necessary once we’d been briefed on the route, which wasn’t protected really in any way. We were expected to run along the sidewalk in a sort of meandering mob, left to dodge traffic and tourists and cable cars with nothing but our wits.

“Are you guys ready?” the City Beer Run rep asked.

 Six or seven people said yes, and then, indeterminably, awkwardly, we all started running.     

Mine were a bumbling, clumsy set of first steps. The beer from before sloshed around in my gut like water in a bucket.

“How you doing?” Alex asked, as we jogged down Columbus Street toward the water, assuming our place in the middle of the pack.

“Let’s find a Chipotle and hide till this is over,” I replied.

Alex ignored me, understandably. Left with no other option, I pressed on, accepting my fate. However, after a few blocks, I actually felt pretty good—the moist, bay-born breeze felt nice on my cheeks, and the bright, Tahoe-blue sky awakened within me an appreciation for how beautiful my city really is. Baristas and bartenders ventured out from their cafes to cheer us on. A faint urban scent of cannabis wafted over us from Joseph Conrad Square. The water glistened and lapped melodiously as we reached it.

When our pack started up the hill to Fort Mason, the beer in my stomach started sloshing more violently. Reminders of why I hate running returned passionately to my consciousness.         

“Alex” I groaned, my face pinched. “We gotta stop.”

“We’re not even done with the first mile yet.”

I took a second to process this horrific news. I said nothing back. We turtled on, and eventually we reached the turnaround point on the Marina side of Fort Mason, where CBR employees directed us back toward Rogue.

When we got back to the top of Fort Mason, with the Golden Gate standing stoic and perpetual behind us, I stopped.

Alex turned around.

“What are you doing?"

“Alex,” I said, with my hands on my knees and head down, “go on without me, I think—”

“No!” Alex said. She grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me back up. “Don’t be a bitch.”

Then she yanked my arm and started towing me down the path like Forrest Gump taking Lieutenant Dan out of the jungle. We plodded down the hill, trundled around the water, and jogged our way back to Columbus Street. The Trans America building emerged in the distance.

Block by block we got closer to Rogue. Alex didn’t relent; somehow with each step, she compelled us to run faster.

“Come on!” she screamed as we crossed Chestnut Street, windmilling her arm in the direction of the bar.

I clenched my teeth as we drew closer. Two blocks. One block. I dropped my head. The streets passed in a bruised, sepia-filtered blur of Muni buses and smart cars. I let out a roar as we crossed the finish line, then collapsed promptly on the pavement. Various members of our loyal herd stopped to help as they, too, crossed the finish line. They hoisted me to my feet. The first thing I saw was Alex’s face. I realized I’d never been more attracted to her than I was at that moment.

A few minutes later we were filing down through the beer garden and into the bar. Katy Perry had replaced Carly Rae Jepson. Nevertheless, inside the bar the mood was jovial. Conversations clinked. Faces glistened. Soon all the runners were back—runners whom I soon learned were not only runners but also account managers and artists and brewers of their own beer. San Franciscans.

Alex and I made some friends and traded a few high fives before we reached the bar. We gave the bartender our drink tickets and were handed two Dead Guy Ales. I finished mine in roughly 10 seconds. Alex, ditto. Suddenly, Nick appeared, smiling and drinking. We all ordered more beer and topped it off with a plate of fries, which Alex and I took to the garden, where watched the raffle. Alex won the organic oatmeal.

I get it now—why people do these things. I feel kind of shitty for not getting it before; my petulance has been replaced by pride. Also inspiration. It seems to me that in times like these—times of Google-anxious change—San Francisco needs events like CBR’s 5K beer run more than ever.

Later, after the raffle, as Alex and I sat reflecting and got ready to leave, we saw Maggie approaching from inside the bar.

“Glad to see you guys made it,” she said.

We laughed. Maggie said she had faith in us all along. Then she pulled out two drink tickets.

“My sister and I are on our way out. We’re not drinking, so I figured you might want these.”     

She handed us the tickets. I didn’t know what to say back. In the moment it felt like the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. As she walked away, I was filled with the oddly comforting feeling that I’d just met a long-lost aunt or something.

“Hey,” Alex said as we stood to retrieve our beers, “didn’t you need to go to the bathroom?”

I smiled and breathed in deep.

“Not anymore.”

There are plenty of ways to get your adrenaline fix under the San Francisco sun, like sailing in the bay or driving a fast car down the 101. For me, though, the simple joy of a quiet scenic run is the best (and the most affordable—just sayin’). 

Whether you’re a newbie runner lacing up your shoes for the first time, a seasoned marathoner, or part of the mysterious breed known as the ultrarunner (bless your hearts, my brave and freakish friends), you’ll quickly find that this seven-by-seven-mile city and the surrounding area have many stunning and unique running routes.

If you’re interested in the road less traveled, take a peek at the routes listed below (and feel free to add your favorites in the comments).

Presidio Loop

Total distance: 6.5–7 miles

Directions to start point

Route

Get out of the city without actually getting out of the city. The Presidio loop is one of my all-time favorite routes in San Francisco, and it has nothing to do with my bias from having lived in this neighborhood for two years.

The Presidio is a labyrinth of soft paths sprinkled with pine needles and covered by towering Cypress trees. You can connect the trails in infinite ways to make up your own favorite route.

Enter through the Presidio Gate en route to Presidio Boulevard. From Presidio Boulevard, hop onto Lovers’ Lane (pictured above).

Turn right onto MacArthur Avenue, then left onto Lincoln Boulevard. Follow that to striking views of the city and Crissy Field as you run along the Presidio Promenade.

You’ll jet past vistas of the Golden Gate Bridge before ducking under the tunnel and back onto Lincoln Boulevard.  

From Lincoln Boulevard, dip down onto the coastal bluffs for sweeping panoramas of the Pacific Ocean before climbing a short but steep staircase that brings you up to Washington Boulevard. Follow this road to Arguello Gate, and turn left onto Pacific Avenue, closing the loop as you head back to the Presidio Gate.

Just watch out for the wildlife, as there have been recent mountain-lion sightings. 

City Love

Total distance: 7.5–8 miles

Directions to start point

Route

If you love running in the city but hate waiting for stoplights to turn green, this is the route for you. 

From the top of the Lyon Street steps, you’ll fly down Pacific Street (note that this is a low-traffic street with minimal stoplights). When your eyes have had their fill of the Victorianhomes with well-manicured lawns and fountains that line the street, take a peek at the sweeping views of the bay (on your left) at each cross street.

Once you’re on the Embarcadero, consider running on the inland side of the street to avoid the obstacle course of tourists. You’ll make your way through Aquatic Park, which harbors old, creaky ships, through Fort Mason (an old military site that’s now residential), and along Marina Boulevard, where you can gawk at the majestic Golden Gate Bridge.

If you’re feeling like channeling your inner Rocky, finish strong with a sprint up the Lyon Street steps. The views from the top (not to mention the climb itself) will take your breath away.  

Coastal Cruise

Total distance: 9.5 miles

Directions to start point

Route

If you’re looking for a great coastal run without leaving the city, this route is a gem. Start by the Ocean Beach parking lot, and work your way up the winding Great Highway (appropriately named for the infinite and magnificent ocean views it offers). You’ll pass the historic Cliff House (now a delectable brunch spot for those who like lobster and a view for breakfast) and work your way to Lands End. This mostly dirt trail includes one extreme staircase climb that rivals the Lyon Street steps.

You’ll jet through Sea Cliff before reaching the Presidio. Frolic through the Presidio path until you reach the Golden Gate Bridge, the halfway point. When you’ve gotten your fill of the view, turn around and head back to the Cliff House and the Ocean Beach parking lot—and maybe stop for a quick bite of lobster as a reward.

Kirby Cove Cavort

Total distance: 7.7 miles

Directions to start point

Route

I stumbled upon one of the North Bay’s best-kept secrets—Kirby Cove—on what I like to call an “adventure run” (you know, the kind during which you make up the route as you go, and half the time you end up in someone’s backyard).

Kirby Cove is an Alice in Wonderland–esque backyard of sorts. The steep trail down to the waterfront is lined with calla lilies, and a rope swing hangs from the lone tree on the beach. If you’re like me, you’ll want to calculate in some serious swing time before you make the trek back up to the main road.

Rodeo Beach Loop

Total distance: 9.7 miles

Directions to start point

Route

Rent a Zipcar and take a quick 25-minute trip over the bridge. You can find parking fairly easily in the lot at the trailhead between Conzelman and McCullough Roads (just off the roundabout).

Here you will find all the butterflies, equestrian stables, and phenomenal views of Rodeo Beach that your heart desires. There are plenty of intersecting trails, so you can cut your run short—if necessary—or extend it to soak up that runner’s high.

Tilden Regional Park 

Total distance: 14 miles

Directions to start point

Route

Try this 14-mile loop, or create your own adventure by connecting the trails to make your own route. 

From San Francisco, Tilden Park is about a 35-minute drive east—and well worth the journey. This 2,079-acre regional park offers soft trails; smooth, rolling hills; and plenty of nature. The wild turkeys here travel in packs and might just try to run alongside you until they tire out.

Redwood Regional Park 

Total distance: 9.7 miles

Directions to start point

Route

If you ever want to feel humbled, try standing next to a 1,000-year-old Redwood tree. Or better yet, go for a run through a forest of them in Redwood Regional Park. Roughly a 30-minute drive from the city, this quick trip is well worth it to run among nature’s giants. Just be sure to pace yourself on the way back, as the hill’s a doozy.

Once you’ve conquered each of these runs, keep your sense of adventure alive by exploring more great Bay Area trails. Organizations like the San Francisco Running Company and Presidio Sports Basement put on weekly group runs that are free and welcome to all levels of talent.

Lace up your shoes and hit the trails!

Lyn Ulbricht has temporarily relocated from Austin, Texas, to be near her son, Ross Ulbricht, who is currently being held in the Metropolitan Correctional Center in Manhattan. He was given two life sentences for nonviolent charges in federal district court last May for his alleged role in running the Silk Road website under the alias Dread Pirate Roberts. In October 2013, he was arrested by federal agents at the Glen Park Branch Library in San Francisco, where he had been living for a year. Ulbricht’s lawyer plans to file an appeal of trial and pretrial issues, along with what many consider to be a harsh sentence, in mid-December 2015. In the meantime, Ulbricht’s intrepid mother is making media appearances, fundraising, and educating the public about the issues in her son’s case. She also appears in the documentary Deep Web, which explores the development of the anonymous web and how advocates for encrypted web sites are fighting government control of digital rights. Deep Web, directed by Alex Winter (of the Bill & Ted movies) premieres on iTunes and VOD on September 1st. 

TBI: The Silk Road website became the largest drug-trafficking portal on the web, but you have said that Ross’s trial was about much more than the drug war.

LU: I have said many times that I am not here to defend Silk Road or drug use. I know that Ross did not create the site as a drug site. He is a free-market libertarian who believes people have a right to do with their bodies what they want. I know his intentions. We often discussed all these things before he was arrested. He created a video game to give players the experience of a free market. He gave lectures on it at University of Texas. He considered doing a YouTube course on it. That is his passion. Ross got really interested when Ron Paul ran for president. Silk Road has unsavory aspects, but the full picture of what it is was not presented to the jury. Even more dangerous than a website that people use to sell and buy drugs are certain precedents set at the trial that I find very concerning. While we are all distracted, the government is encroaching on our protections and freedoms.

TBI: How is the government encroaching? 

LU: Even though other courts have rejected this, the judge accepted digital evidence of Ross’s involvement in the Silk Road website as real evidence. You really don’t know who is the source of the evidence because digital material is so easy to fabricate. A mortgage company won’t take a screenshot as a bank statement, for instance. But digital evidence was accepted as more than 90% of the government’s evidence, and our lawyer, Josh Dratel, objected all the way through, basing it on other court decisions. So there is a precedent from this trial now that the government can use easily Photoshopped digital evidence to put someone in prison for life. It doesn’t take imagination to see that if you want to get somebody, it wouldn’t be that hard using digital material. The government also took Ross’s laptop with only a general warrant, which is a huge question going forward about whether that was legally done. If allowed to stand, this precedent weakens our Fourth Amendment protections. There is also the issue of how they found the Silk Road server—whether they hacked in without a warrant. This was never brought before an examining court.

TBI: You have called his life sentence draconian.

LU: I understand you have to protect society from violent people. But life without parole for all non-violent charges, for a non-violent person, with no priors? Ross was 26 when he created this thing. Aging changes people. It’s not like he is going to come out in 20 years, at age 51, and build another Silk Road. He’s a pretty quick learner, and he wouldn’t do it again. He would find another way, a legal way, to communicate free markets. Giving him life was making him the poster boy for the drug war. He is paying the price for all of the drug lords that they haven’t arrested. To me that isn’t what our justice system is about. You should be sentenced as an individual. You shouldn’t be shouldering a burden for other people. But the drug war itself is not about drugs; it is about government expansion “for our safety” or whatever. It’s been going on for 40 years, and it doesn’t stop anyone from doing drugs. Our prisons are bursting at the seams with nonviolent people like Ross because of the drug war, and lives are being destroyed.

TBI: What do you hope the appeal will accomplish?

LU: Many things are possible because they are appealing pretrial issues, the trial itself, and the sentencing. The legal team asked for an extension because of extensive corruption of the government investigators, who may have tainted the evidence. These agents had the administrative ability to do anything they wanted to on the Silk Road site while they were investigating. They could commandeer accounts, including Dread Pirate Roberts’s. They could change PIN numbers and access bank accounts, so there is no way of knowing if their evidence was legitimate. If they find that the general warrant was deficient for seizing his laptop, that will impact whether the laptop could be admissible, and we may have a retrial. The idea of going back to trial is so overwhelming, I can’t think about it.

TBI: OK, we can take a step back. What was Ross like as a kid?

LU: He was a great kid, a wonderful person to raise—sweet, peaceful, easygoing, compassionate. I know I am his mother, but there are 100 letters by people who know him personally on our site, freeross.org, that were submitted to the judge asking her to give him the minimum sentence. Then I read articles calling him a savage king pin, and it is upsetting. He is the opposite of that.

TBI: You’ve become more than just the defendant’s mom. You’re like his spokeswoman and chief activist.

LU: I joke that finally my big mouth is paying off. I have a journalism and freelance-writing background, and now I am doing more writing and public appearances. I was just speaking about Ross at a festival of libertarians called the Porcupine Freedom Festival, which is part of the Free State Project, where they encourage people to move to New Hampshire. I’ve been on Reason magazine’s show; I went on Huff Post and Fox; and I’ve been on panels with Alex Winter, whose film Deep Web was at SXSW. I’ll be going to Prague this fall to speak at a conference and then to different cities in Poland. Polish people know what tyranny is! I’m hoping people will see how important this case is and that it is beyond one man and one website.

_{Hero image courtesy of Steve Rhodes.} 

San Francisco has played home to smart misfits for decades. The City by the Bay has a reputation as a friendly refuge for nerds, dorks, and otherwise goofy intellectuals with weird ideas. We’ve fought hard to earn that rep, and gosh darn it, we’ve EARNED it.

While being a nerd might be popular now, San Francisco still has its havens and refuges for the deeply dorky. These spots aren’t for everyone, but if you’re looking for something truly unique (and off the beaten path), the list below is a great place to start. 

The Interval at the Long Now Foundation

The Long Now Foundation is like something out of a science-fiction book. It was founded by an environmentalist (Stewart Brand), a musician (Brian Eno), and a techie (Danny Hillis) in order to help “make long-term thinking” more common.

In between hosting monthly seminars by inventors and public artists, the Long Now Foundation supports projects that will make your head spin, including a clock that will run for ten thousand years, de-extinction projects aimed at bringing back the wooly mammoth and other extinct species, and a modern-day Rosetta stone with over 1,500 languages (a copy of which is now traveling through space on an asteroid).

The Interval is their coffee shop and cocktail house at Fort Mason. The place is gorgeous (for all you design and architecture nerds out there), and you can easily get a great drink and read all about the Long Now’s various projects that are on display. You’re also almost guaranteed to bump into people working on cool projects at any time of the day or night.

_{Photo Courtesy of Longnow.} 

2 Marina Boulevard, Fort Mason Center Bldg. A, San Francisco, CA 94123

Nerd Nite SF

Nerd Nite is a monthly event featuring three experts who come together to give twenty- to thirty-minute talks on their particular topic of expertise. It’s kind of like TED, except that the audience is full of normal, nonbillionaire, beer-drinking nerds. The speakers share their deep love of (and extensive knowledge about) topics such as sword canes, the history of words, plasma physics, metagrobology (the study of puzzles), and similarly stimulating topics.

In addition to the three lectures, there’s almost always a bevy of other fun surprises (like a DJ who plays music specially picked to reflect each speaker’s topic, no matter how obscure).

For an example, check out this talk from Dr. Ali Mattu, a science-fiction psychologist, in which he presents a universal theory about the psychological basis of “nerd rage.”

Every Wednesday at the Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell St at Van Ness

Audium

Audium mixes sensory deprivation (in the form of a pitch-black room) with a high-concept auditory experience. It’s not musical; rather, it’s more of a compilation of sounds intended to provoke feelings. This isn’t surround sound; it’s being surrounded by sound. Some people have compared the experience to meditation. A small (and possibly drug-addled) percentage of the audience has even reported experiencing hallucinations during the exhibit.

Audium is an old San Francisco staple and has been open since 1975. The space isn’t sleek or modern, but its classic craftsmanship has a certain appeal. It also looks like it’s out of a Kubrick film.

_{Photo Courtesy of Audium.} 

1616 Bush Street, San Francisco, CA 94109 

Brewcade

The best things in life are often simple combinations: peanut butter and jelly, salt and pepper, rum and coke, and arcade games and beer. 

This is one of the few places on this list that doesn’t really need much more explanation. Play Paperboy (or Tekken or Ms. Pac-Man) and drink one of the many good beers on offer. You’ll find lots of kindred spirits frequenting this place—and it’s a popular hangout for hackers.

2200 Market Street, #102, San Francisco, CA 94114

The Letterman Digital Arts Center

This is the home of Industrial Light & Magic, LucasArts, and Lucasfilm. Any Star Wars fan is going to get a kick out of visiting. The campus is beautiful and littered with Star Wars references. Search out the Yoda Fountain, and then go to the lobby of Building B to check out the Star Wars memorabilia (there are a life-size Darth Vader and Boba Fett on display!).

They also have one of the best movie theaters in the world, which is used as the ILM screening facility. While it’s not generally open to the public, the theater is occasionally rented out for special events for which you can purchase tickets.

_{Photo Courtesy of Nasir Khan.} 

One Letterman Drive, San Francisco, CA 94123

Specs’ Twelve Adler Museum Cafe

Specs’ is a bohemian artist bar with a variety of art items on display. Inside it feels like a haphazard, eclectic display of culture and is filled with odd art and weird people. It’s a fun neighborhood bar, but its nod to nerdery is that it was rumored to be the inspiration for the Mos Eisley Cantina in Star Wars. 

12 William Saroyan Place, San Francisco, CA 94133 

Noisebridge

Noisebridge is a hacker space. Filled with inventors and creators, this is a place you can go to to build anything your heart desires. There are classes on all types of creation, from soldering to programming to neurological research to 3-D printing and on.

Noisebridge is free and open to the public. You can hang out here and work on your laptop, drop in on classes, or get to know the interesting people working in the electronics lab, machine shop, sewing room, or library.

2169 Mission Street, San Francisco, CA 94110

TechShop San Francisco

Similar to Noisebridge, TechShop is a space where you can access loads of fancy tools to build whatever your heart desires. TechShop has a huge amount of cool tools, but unlike Noisebridge, it’s not free to the public. You can either register for classes ad hoc or become a member to make use of the machines on your own time.

926 Howard Street, San Francisco, CA 94103

Exploratorium

While it might seem a bit trite to say this, it’s hard to go wrong with the Exploratorium. It’s awesome as a kid, but it’s even more fun as an adult. You’re encouraged to poke, prod, and tinker with exhibits that help you understand a wide variety of phenomena. There are a huge number of exhibits and plenty of opportunities for interactivity.

To pair it with Audium, try the Exploratorium’s Tactile Dome, a pitch-dark maze that you have to feel your way through.

 Pier 15, The Embarcadero, San Francisco, CA 94111

It’s your turn to pick a spot for dinner, but in this city, the sheer number of choices can make such a simple decision feel like an overwhelming task. It’s true that many SF denizens would rather spend cash on a nice dinner before cleaning their clothes, but if you’re going to make that trade-off, you may want the advice of more than a few Yelp reviews.

Enter San Francisco’s fleet of foodie bloggers, with the cameras and writing chops to make you crave those pork chops on your screen. Whether they’re taking epic shots of produce in the Ferry Building or searching for the next Californian-Asian-Mexican-fusion spot, this town’s food bloggers act as guides, sages, and inspirations for those of us city dwellers who plan our meals better than we plan our workouts, careers, and personal hygiene.

_{Photos Courtesy of  CynEats}

Take Cynthia from CynEats.com, for example. Spend ten minutes on her Instagram, and you’ll have enough dinner-date plans to finish off the summer. “Cyn” uses her blog to chronicle her taste buds’ journey throughout this city and others, while also offering straight and to-the-point reviews on local treasures and newly popular spots alike.

SF’s food bloggers aren’t just pointing us hungry thrill seekers in the right direction, either; they’re also integral to local conversation, which, in turn, helps local businesses—one of the keys to holding onto the SF authenticity that so many people are seeking these days.

“There have been times where I’ve blogged about a mom-and-pop shop or a brand-new restaurant, and the owners have reached out to thank me for bringing them new customers through CynEats and even my Instagram pictures! That’s such an awesome feeling to have—to know that my voice can help small businesses around the city,” Cynthia says.

Food bloggers also bring our attention to the inventive, yet often simple, ideas of local chefs using produce grown near their towns. As Ashley of HitherandThither.Net says, “Even though the farm-to-table movement got its start in California with Alice Waters, the appreciation for local foods and the recipes that let their flavors shine has really grown in the last couple of years. New American seasonal menus are everywhere, and frankly, I love it.”

_{Photo Courtesy of Veronique Kherian}

_{Photo Courtesy of Gavin Farrington}

While some of the city’s food disciples started out blogging about their travels and culinary experiences, others have come from totally different backgrounds, including Vero of MissCheeseMonger.com, who went from passing the California bar to becoming the official photographer of the California Artisan Cheese Guild.  

“It was while studying abroad in Aix-en-Provence, France, that I first got an inkling of how deep the cheese rabbit hole went,” says Vero. A woman who’s after our own lactose-loving hearts, Vero chose to turn her focus to the ever-complicated realm of cheese. Her blog celebrates local cheese purveyors, bringing new awareness and considerable drooling to the San Francisco artisanal-cheese scene.

These food bloggers aren’t just handy for their dinner recs; they can also educate us on the mysteries of food. They order from menus with items such as nardellos, huitlacoche, and nasturtium and then describe these foreign-sounding items to us.

_{Photo Courtesy of Daniel Fabta}

_{Photo Courtesy of Kelly Huibregtse}

“I really love that I’m always finding menu items that I’ve never heard of. I used to be embarrassed and feel like I wasn’t a foodie because I didn’t recognize something obscure, but now I find it’s a great opportunity to talk with the staff and learn more about the story behind an item and why it made it on the menu,” says Kelly of ASideOfSweet.com.

If her blog is any indication, Kelly practices what she preaches. ASideOfSweet.com showcases her latest adventures in food, which often involve trying out new places for review, shedding some light on lesser-known cuisines, and teaching her readers tips and tricks on how to navigate the food world.

Given San Francisco’s culture of entrepreneurship and innovative curiosity, the food landscape isn’t going to slow down anytime soon. While the food scene continues to truck along, we need to take the time to slow down and visit the watering holes, dining rooms, and markets recommended by those with their hands (and mouths) in this city’s many food courses. After all, food is as much about the experience as it is about the taste.

“I love how [food] brings people together. How it makes people feel. How it can turn a bad mood into a good mood. How one bite of deep-dish pizza can make all my problems go away in that moment,” says Cynthia.

Cynthia—CynEats.com

Check her blog for: drool-worthy dishes from local spots, city food guides, and restaurant reviews rivaling those on Yelp.

What she’ll eat until she dies (or becomes a vegetarian, which probably won’t happen): the lamb chops at Kokkari.

Ashley—HitherandThither.net

Check her blog for: a little bit of everything, including picnic essentials and beautiful food photography.

What she’ll eat until she dies (or until we run out of raw fish): Bar Crudo’s namesake raw fish, the soup dumplings at Yank Sing, and oysters—freshly shucked and from Tomales Bay.

Vero—MissCheeseMonger.com

Check her blog for: the best damn cheese you’ll ever eat, DIY chèvre, cheese pairings, and artisan spotlights.

What she’ll eat until she dies: Sofia (an ash-ripened goat cheese from Capriole Goat Cheese), Ameribella (a raw cow's milk cheese from Jacobs & Brichford Cheese) and xiaolongbao, or soup dumplings, at Shanghai Dumpling King.

Kelly—ASideofSweet.com

Check her blog for: local date-night spots, city food guides, and wine notes.

What she’ll eat until she dies (or moves to a different city): ramen at Izakaya Sozai, the plow platter at Plow, Wagyu beef at Bobo’s Steak House & Seafood Restaurant, and the peas and prosciutto cavatelli pasta at Reverb.

As someone who has eaten a lot of Mexican food in both LA and San Francisco, I can say that San Francisco is ground zero for amazing burritos, the best of which can be found in the 24th Street area of the Mission District. I had my first Mission burrito at El Farolito on 24th Street when I was 21 years old after many rounds of low-quality, cheap drinks at some crappy dive bar in the area. I was still a vegetarian then, so I think I ordered a super veggie burrito. It couldn’t have been more than $6, because this was before the Mission was completely overrun by techies.

Fast-forward a decade and some change, and I’m back to eating meat again. When I do indulge, my burrito of choice is a carnitas super burrito. For the sake of this article, I decided it would be more scientific to rank burritos by a specific rating scale, and I decided to focus my efforts in the 24th Street corridor, which is widely considered the “heart” of the Mission by burrito purists.

My rating scale consists of the following criteria, on a 1–5 scale:

1. Meat Quality: Did the meat taste relatively fresh? Was it tender? And did it seem like it was of above-average quality?

2. Meat to Rice/Bean/Veggie Ratio: Was the burrito well balanced? Were all the elements equally represented?

3. Juiciness: When you take a bite out of the burrito, is it finger-licking good?

4. Overall Flavor: Can you stop after one bite? Or are you tempted to eat the whole thing in one sitting?

5. Temperature: This one’s pretty self-explanatory. If it’s cold, it’s no bueno. A warm, grilled tortilla gets extra points. 

I picked seven places in the 24th Street area—some very well known (e.g., La Taqueria) and some more under the radar (e.g., La Espiga De Oro). As a control, I ordered the same thing at every place—a carnitas super burrito. One location did not carry carnitas, so I ordered the other pork option on the menu, chile verde. Without further ado, here are the results! 

#1. Papalote (3409 24th Street), 4.36 average score

This was a surprise and will probably upset burrito purists, but Papalote’s chile verde burrito received the highest scores on my ranking scale. Papalote did not have carnitas on the menu, so I opted for the chile verde super burrito. It wasn’t cheap—

it was the most expensive of the burritos, at almost $11. Though it was pricy, the flavors and quality of the burrito were truly impressive. The pork was of a very high quality, dripping in juices and delicately flavored with a mild green sauce. The tortilla was lightly grilled, and each bite was perfectly balanced with the ideal mix of rice, refried beans (black beans at that!), and melted cheese. Before I knew it, I’d eaten nearly a quarter of the burrito and had to leave Papalote in fear of eating the whole thing in one sitting.

#2. La Espiga De Oro (2916 24th Street), 4.14 average score

I had never been to La Espiga De Oro, and I’d often walked past its rather nondescript location on 24th Street. There was hardly a crowd present on the Friday evening I dined here, which was quite the opposite of the scene at El Farolito, where a line snaked out the door. The carnitas super burrito was also extremely reasonable, at $7.75, and the flavors were impressive. The tortilla was slightly browned and chewy, and the carnitas had a complex spice profile—the meat was tender and had smoky, spicy notes. The burrito was chock full of carrots, avocado, melted cheese, and chili flakes. It certainly packed a punch. This is a place I’ll certainly be revisiting.

#3. El Farolito (2779 Mission Street), 3.94 average score

There is not much to dislike about the classic standby El Farolito. It’s an institution in the Mission, and rightly so. There was a line outside the door when I ordered my carnitas super burrito, and the wait was justified. The burrito was very good and, at a little over $8, a fantastic value. The carnitas in the burrito is of a high quality and spicy. Additionally, the burrito is loaded with avocado slices, which you don’t see at every burrito joint (most places skimp on this ingredient). One slight drawback was that the meat was a tad on the dry side, for which I docked points. Still, this place is definitely a strong contender for solid, high-quality burritos.

#4. Taqueria San Francisco (2794 24th Street), 3.9 average score

This was another surprise. I’d never been inside Taqueria San Francisco, and it has rarely come up in conversations with other burrito lovers in my neighborhood. I’m not sure if it’s because it has received less press or because it’s almost in Potrero Hill. The super carnitas burrito here costs a very reasonable $8.50, and I was impressed with the generous carnitas-to-rice ratio in the burrito. There were also huge pieces of avocado, and the taqueria had great homemade salsa, which I added to bites of the burrito. The tortilla was also nicely grilled and served warm—just how I love it. I docked points because the flavor was less spicy than that of the other burritos (it was slightly bland), but the flavor picked up once I added a dash of the homemade salsa. 

#5 Taqueria Vallarta (3033 24th Street), 3.86 average score

The carnitas super burrito here is huge and the biggest of all that I tried. It’s something that could be shared easily between two people (or maybe three, if the folks sharing are not that hungry). For $9, this is an incredible value. The burrito was chock full of avocado, rice, and other vegetables, but they certainly skimped on the meat a little. The carnitas was crispy, spicy, and flavorful, but the amount was relatively small compared to that offered by the other burrito places (this burrito was predominantly rice and beans). Overall, the flavor of the burrito was good, but some of the other elements—the meat-to-other-ingredients ratio and the overall meat quality—weighed down the overall rating.

#6. La Taqueria (2889 Mission Street) 3.68 average score

I have to admit that I was a little shocked to give La Taqueria a lower-than-average rating, particularly because it’s the darling of burrito reviewers and celebrated in many Yelp write-ups. I don’t know if I went there on an off day, but my burrito experience here was rather underwhelming, to say the least. The meat was under-salted and under-spiced, and the tortilla was not properly heated up—it was actually a bit cold! Overall, I thought this was a very average Mission burrito. If you were to compare it to a burrito in New York City, it would get five stars, but with so many other places to choose from in the Mission, this fell flat. With that being said, I have had amazing experiences eating various soft tacos at La Taqueria in the past, so maybe it’s just not a great place to get a burrito. 

#7. El Metate (2406 Bryant Street), 3.0 average score

I so wanted to like this place. It was packed on a Friday night, filled with couples and groups of friends socializing, and the interior décor was adorable, with lots of bright colors and lovely paintings. That was the highlight of my experience here. Other than that, the burrito was below average. The tortilla was COLD; the carnitas was dry and under-salted; and there was not much cheese or guacamole in the burrito. It felt very unbalanced. It was also overpriced, at close to $10 for the burrito. I don’t have much else that’s positive to say about this, as I was pretty disappointed with my experience here.

Roommate horror stories: we all have them. Most people will live with a roommate at some point, whether that person’s their BFF or some stranger they find on Craigslist. While where you live is obviously important, it’s whom you live with that can make or break the renting experience. I currently live in San Francisco’s glorious Chinatown, but before that, I lived on three different continents and in six different countries with over 35 roommates in total.  I don’t regret a thing, but I can say that crazy roommates significantly decrease your quality of life, and nobody has time for that.

After so many different living situations, I’ve definitely learned a thing or two about myself and what makes someone a perfect roommate match. My past roommates have inspired me, thrown me into some of my strangest experiences, and driven me crazy, but they’ve all taught me how I want to live now and in the future. Here are some of my favorite and most outrageous roommate situations.

1. The Keep-It-Tight, German Mansion Partiers 

After some time in California a few years ago, I moved to the south of Germany for the last semester of undergraduate school. Shortly after moving, I got a lease in a very old mansion for six months. The only catch was that 10 other people lived there. It was a pretty random mix! Some were introverts who loved classical music. Some were party animals who picked up girls or guys and brought them home every other night. Some were always gone and never came home before 4:00 a.m. 

Being the college kid that I was, I agreed when a few of the roommates decided we should be taking advantage of our awesome home. We started hosting theme parties in our mansion every other week. Each event had its own crazy theme (and was definitely always illegal), driving away our quieter roommates each weekend.

One of our ragers was a “Keep It Tight” party, but I didn’t last too long. After passing out in my bed pretty early, I awoke hours later to a guy and a girl “exchanging clothes” in my bed. If that wasn’t enough of a shock, I soon heard one of my roommates screaming for me. I jumped out of bed just in time to see a totally drunk girl falling through our chandelier—from the third floor. I watched my roommate talk to police officers outside in a snug pair of tighty-whities and a pink satin bathrobe about “our small get-together of 20 to 30 people” while more than a hundred people left the mansion right behind him. 

I still don’t know how we got away with it, but when I started working a few months later, I knew it was time to say goodbye to the crazy party house and go in search of some peace and quiet.  

2. Passive-Aggressive Post-it Notes

A little while after I left the mansion, I found another apartment in Hamburg, Germany. I moved in with a quiet girl. She told me that her boyfriend had just moved out because they separated and that she needed privacy. I thought that that would be exactly what I needed, so I moved in. 

It was quiet, but it was definitely not a place that felt like home. She was sharing the apartment only to save money and wanted to be completely secluded. She didn’t want to see me (or any of my stuff) and always seemed annoyed that I even lived there. I was even forbidden to keep anything in the bathroom—not even my razor.

As I started to break her strange rules, I started to find sticky notes left all over the apartment directed at me. For example, “After cleaning, pls put the vacuum EXACTLY the way it was” or “Don’t leave your stuff on the table.”

This lasted for two months before enough was enough. It was awful. It’s not fun to stay at work to avoid going home because you feel uncomfortable. So the passive-aggressive sticky-note writer and I parted ways.

3. A Surfer, Musician, and a Gamer Walk into a Bar …

While at California State University during my senior year of college, I had three roommates: a surfer, a musician, and a gamer.

The surfer, the musician, and I got along great. We partied, went on trips to several awesome places, and hung out together all the time.

Then there was our other roommate. He went to classes, played video games endlessly, drove off-campus to indulge in fast food every day, and drank mountains of Dr Pepper. Oh, and he treated himself to a two-hour bath almost daily.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like him, but I realized how strange it must feel for him to be on the outs. I thought about how I would feel if I lived with three other people I had nothing in common with, and I always felt weird about leaving him out. My odd-roommate-out scenario taught me about living in a group and how important it is to live with compatible people.

Through all my years living with other people, and through being a roommate myself, I’ve finally figured out what I need: a quiet but friendly environment that I can call my home. I love having people around, but I also need my privacy. I just know what’s important to me. And I know that as my needs change through every stage of life, there will be a perfect roommate situation.

The Bold Italic recently sat down with San Francisco journalist and funny man Broke-Ass Stuart to chat about his views on the changing social and economic realities of the city, his run for city mayor, and his plans for making the City by the Bay a better—and less smelly­—place.   

Photo Courtesy of Broke-ass Stuart

TBI: Without overthinking it, what’s your favorite thing about the city, and what’s your least favorite thing about the city?

Stuart: My favorite thing about the city is that it’s always been a place where, if you didn’t fit in any place else, you fit in in San Francisco. My least favorite thing is that that’s what we’re losing.

TBI: How are we losing it?

Stuart: The city’s becoming more homogenized. The city’s becoming more of a playground for just solely rich people.

TBI: Is there one thing that you wish you could reverse? Is it “I wish more artists lived here”? Is there a group of people—is there something specific that you would want to reverse and wish you could bring back?

Stuart: The evictions and the people getting pushed out of their homes is what I would reverse. Whether it’s somebody’s grandmother who’s been here and raised three generations in a house or people who just need a place to do cool things and make cool stuff. We’re losing the fight. A city is only as good as its people, and we’re losing the people that make the city good.

TBI: Is that stoppable somehow through regulation of some sort? And if so, what, specifically, would you do as mayor?

Stuart: I think we could see it through regulation and also education. People need to become involved with the city. I made this point in the Examiner recently. I have nothing wrong with tech. I have so many friends who work in tech. My problem is the culture of aloofness. It’s a culture of not caring enough about the place you’re at; it’s just a place where you work.

Part of what makes us San Franciscans is that we live in the streets here. You walk around to get places. You ride your bike. You take Muni. When you opt out of that, you’re opting out of San Francisco. When you work obnoxious hours at work and then take an Uber home, and then you don’t leave your house and order something from your phone, and you walk around as a billboard for your company, you’re opting out of the experience of being a San Franciscan. You don’t get to walk around and see who your neighbors are or get to know your corner-store guy or see what’s happening down the way because you’re checking out, in a way.

TBI: Can we ask you a very blunt question about your mayor campaign?

Stuart: Yeah.

TBI: Do you think you can actually win, or is this ...

Stuart: Well, it’s not likely, but anything is possible.

TBI: Yeah.

Stuart: I’m not doing it just for the sake of winning. I’m doing this because I have a voice that people are silly enough to like and listen to, and I want to be able to influence things and create conversation. The Chronicle recently said that I was the only person of note running against Ed Lee. If it isn’t me, who else is going to do it?

There needs to be somebody calling him out and saying what’s wrong with the city. We don’t have a lot longer here in San Francisco if it keeps going this way. It will be done. It will be Manhattan.

TBI: What do you think it would take for you to win? Let’s just put together the dream scenario. What has to happen for you to win?

Stuart: Here’s the thing. I really am focusing on getting people in the community involved. I don’t know, just pick a number—maybe there are 10,000—20,000—new people in the city who weren’t around last election cycle. They’re still registered at their mom’s house or wherever they lived before. If I can get those people engaged, get them to care ... There’s a lot of people who are progressives. They may be more moderate than myself.

TBI: Let’s dream for a second. You’re in the mayor's office. Tell us about your first hundred days.

Stuart: I’m not wearing pants at all, the whole time. No, I’ve got a plan to clean the poop off the street. That’s the first thing we do.

TBI: That’s such a problem.

Stuart: Seriously. There’s human shit all over. It’s very solvable—very fixable. We then take the money available and buy up all the land that we can and make it just for affordable housing. Especially the Mission, which has been highly impacted. SOMA has plenty of land right now. Build your condos in SOMA, and give us affordable housing.

I would also like to sit down with the leaders of Larkin Street and Glide and St. Anthony’s and all the people who are at the front line of the homeless epidemic that we have in San Francisco and really get them involved. We have resources. They have needs. What can we do to make this better? Right now I’m really putting my platform out every two weeks at a time so we have enough time to fully study everything before we speak on it too much. We’ve got this poop plan down pat. We are the poop plan.

TBI: That’s an important issue.

Stuart: It’s actually fixable.

TBI: How would you fix it?

Stuart: Gosh, it’s so easy. We need more bathrooms. Since 9/11 an immense amount of bathrooms have been closed in San Francisco.

TBI: Because of security?

Stuart: Right.

Stuart: We can open those up.

TBI: Yeah.

Stuart: Also, we have the public parks. A lot of bathrooms there have been closed down. We can open those up. We just need more bathrooms. We have something called Lava Mae; it’s a grooming system. It’s a cool nonprofit. They’ got these old Muni busses and converted them into rolling bathrooms and showers on wheels. Also, there’s the Pit Stop. Is that what it’s called? Yeah, the Pit Stop. In the city we need a lot more of them. It’s not that expensive. We can do this. We have billions of dollars in the city, and if we keep the money coming in and stop giving tax breaks to everybody, we can do this.

TBI: Let’s talk about tech for a second because that is the big elephant in the room.

Stuart: Sure.

TBI: In San Francisco, there’s a growing divide between the tech and the non-tech in the community. Just give us your thoughts on that.

Stuart: Sure. As I mentioned earlier, my problem isn’t with tech; it’s with the culture around tech. It’s this separatist kind of thing. It’s like a culture away. I want them to be a culture with us. This is a city that’s always opened our arms to everybody. If you want to be here, be here. But be here. Be part of us. Get out in the streets, walk to work, take Muni, see who your neighbors are, and vote. And vote. More importantly, don’t be a dick. Especially when it comes to social issues. The people on the streets—they’re people. Don’t write nasty things about them that go viral and make you have to leave town.

Be a human and try to think about others. It’s hard because you get a lot of people who are very young, making a lot of money, and they don’t have ... life hasn’t shown them enough yet. I think we just need to bridge that gap, and that’s what we’re trying to do.

TBI: Let’s just say three million naturally lands in your bank account, and you get to give a million to three charities. Which three would you donate to?

Stuart: Me, me, and me. No, I'm kidding. I don’t know. That’s really hard. In this city, you’ve got to look at the things that are the biggest issues, and I would use that money to tackle homelessness. Three million dollars is a lot of money, but it’s also not a lot of money.

TBI: Basically, we’re just asking for three different organizations you’d give money to.

Stuart: Yeah. That’s a good question. I don’t know. I’d split the money between affordable housing and homelessness, which is kind of like two sides of the same coin because those are the issues that are really impacting our community. People who are homeless were not always homeless. They were in homes at one point or another and through a few bad decisions—a few bad breaks—they’re suddenly without a home. We have something like almost 10,000 people on the streets in San Francisco. Some of them are transitional; some of them live full-time on the streets. A large number of them are actually from here and have lived here and had a home here. The larger number are LGBT youth who have always believed that if they go to San Francisco, they will be safe—that this is the city where you’re safe. They come here, and they’re not safe, because there’s not a place for them.

San Francisco recently became the first city, I think, in the world to have an LGBT—strictly LGBT—homeless shelter. It took twenty years to have it. Something like an immense number—like forty percent—of the homeless people in San Francisco are LGBT. It’s crazy.

TBI: You would basically use the money to solve homelessness or …

Stuart: Homelessness and then affordable housing. Put it into organizations that are working for affordable housing.

TBI: Let’s do a quick-hits section on the city.

Stuart: Sure.

TBI: Favorite coffee shop?

Stuart: I go to the Gaslamp Café all the time, and I work out of there a lot because it’s in my neighborhood.

TBI: Most frequented bar?

Stuart: The Willows these days.

TBI: OK. Favorite restaurant?

Stuart: That’s hard. I really like Loló a lot in the Mission. It’s pretty awesome. I haven’t been to that since they moved. It depends; it so varies.

TBI: Favorite neighborhood?

Stuart: I spent my whole 20s in the Mission. I’ll always have a special place in my heart for the Mission. North Beach—I love North Beach. All my favorite, cool little bars and shit. Specs’ is my favorite bar in the world.

TBI: OK. Where can we find you on a Saturday night?

Stuart: It varies. These days, I haven’t been in town for a while on the weekends. Either probably—hopefully—at a house party or some bar.

TBI: What movie do you have queued up on Netflix right now?

Stuart: We just watched Pulp Fiction two nights ago. One of the best movies ever.

TBI: TV show?

Stuart: Orange is the New Black.

TBI: What’s your favorite San Francisco band of all time?

Stuart: Oh God! I don’t know. The Dead?

TBI: Place where we wouldn’t catch you dead?

Stuart: I would say running into one of your friends in the Marina is like running into someone you know in the Planned Parenthood waiting room. You’re like, “Oh, well, this is awkward."

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