An Irish pub.

579 Howard Street, SF.

Kate O’Briens is your basic Irish boozer, located opposite the massive TransBay construction project, the latter a great source of photographic inspiration. There’s seating outside, but it was a freezing day when I visited, hence the deserted look.

It’s dark and quiet inside, a couple of TVs playing English Premier League soccer games:

Regulars enjoy a pint.

You aren’t going to come here for gourmet fare, but I left happily sated after the meat loaf special and a glass of draft Smithwicks (the ‘w’ is silent, if you want to get it right).

Tuesday special – meat loaf.

Sorry about the blur – it’s dark inside and I forgot to switch the G3 to 1600 ISO.

$17 was the tab. Suits are not welcome here, it’s strictly a jeans place for working men. With the Transbay construction likely lasting another decade, the pub will be doing good business for a while yet.

Southern Indian food.

Ruchi, located in the SOMA district of San Francisco, is not much to look at, outside or in. Almost under a freeway overpass, it serves Southern Indian food. The plain interior has a few mediocre photographs taken in Andhra Pradesh and you order at the counter, with the food delivered to your table. Yet I must say the whole experience was thoroughly worthwhile. The people working in the restaurant are most charming, as gentle and well mannered as one could imagine. And the food I ordered, the Lamb Thali, was simply delicious, suffused with a thousand fragrances and gently spiced.

474 Third Street.

The Lamb Thali.

The crowd is 20% Suits, 80% software types, and the noise level is low.

The whole thing, with a Maharaja pilsner, ran me $17.

As usual, lunch inspired me and I lucked out with a snap of the only attractive Parking Warden in the United States, around the corner from the restaurant:

G3, kit lens.

A spot of France.

Fringale, at Fourth and Brennan in San Francisco, is not your common or garden lunch joint. It may be in a grotty area, but the prices are strictly top dollar and the fare is high quality French. So much so that I was too intimidated to ask for a beer, fearing I might be chucked out on my ear for such crassness.

Click the picture for the site.

I wanted to keep things light – meal and check – so opted for the Salade Niçoise, my crackerjack French pronunciation somewhat smoothing the waters, earlier ruffled by the appearance of my tired Levis. That’s a nice slab of medium rare tuna atop.

The service here is outstanding, the very French proprietor charming and the whole thing comes with a white table cloth feel in a light, clean interior.

Prices are high, especially when you add $10 for a small glass of wine.

Not my regular sort of place, but a nice change for those days when I make a bit of coin in the markets. Too bad about the beer, though I did luck out with a nice street snap right after, inspired by the tuna salad:

Protests, politics and milestones. Fourth near Market Street, SF. G3, kit lens @22mm.