Category Archives: Dining

Where to eat in San Francisco

21st Amendment

Dining, Photographs

In memoriam of quite exceptional stupidity.

For a nation created in the joint beliefs of self determination and freedom of religion and expression, the United States still boasts more loony puritanical cranks per acre than most. Never was this better illustrated than in the 18th Amendment to the Constitution, passed by the drunken louts in Congress in 1919. This stunning piece of idiocy prevailed until repeal by the 21st Amendment passed in 1933.

There were only two groups who approved. The peddlers of illegal hooch who became wealthy overnight. And Hollywood, which made movies about …. the peddlers of illegal hooch. Congress had proved, yet again, that a basic, unarguable principle of economics could not be changed.

All control drives up price.

The poppy farmers in the Golden Triangle and the hemp growers of South America and the California hills bow daily in the direction of a Congress still in denial of this Great Truth. Or maybe those legislators are simply on the payroll? Either way, we continue to support the drug trade and its extraordinary profits by doing for drugs what we did between 1919 and 1933 for booze. Go figure.

Please. No lectures about your kids getting higher than a kite. It’s called ‘parental responsibility’.

There’s a fine brew pub with a nice selection of craft beers not far from the ballpark in San Francisco named, appropriately, The 21st Amendment, and you can get a beer there for a whole lot less than you paid Al Capone back in the day. My waiter knew his stuff too when I asked him which Amendment made the Volstead Act law, right down to the date! Click ‘No’ on their home page and nothing happens! Gotta like that.

Panasonic G1, kit lens @ 14mm, 1/80, f/3.5, ISO 1600.

As the snap shows, they are proud of their brewers here and I confirm that I was enjoying a light New Belgian Mothership wheat beer with my fish and chips when snapping this, purely to steady my hand, you understand,

Eddie Rickenbacker’s

Dining, Photographs

For real men.

Real men ride motorbikes, hang out at local bars and think nothing of confrontation and a good fist fight. If that’s your sort of thing, and you believe real motorcycles come from America and Europe, then you owe it to yourself to visit Eddie Rickenbacker’s at Second Street and Minna Street, in the vibrant South of Market district in San Francisco.

The food is cheap and served in the usual gargantuan American helpings, drinks are inexpensive and the atmosphere is real. A BLT served with fries plus draught beer (get the Racer IPA) will set you back $17 with tip. This is a genuine old place with a long bar on one side, an unkempt set of tables on the other and with friendly help. No fake Tiffany lampshades and Armani wearers here. And did I mention that Norm, the proprietor, who could stand to lose 100 lbs or so, hangs out on a sofa at the end of the bar …. his breathing assisted by an oxygen bottle? Like I said, this is not for the chi chi set. The snaps below will give you a sense of the place.

Located at Second and Minna, SoMA. A post war Triumph is above the entrance.

Classic Indian in the window on Second Street.

A 1922 Motosacoche and a 1952 Moto Guzzi.

A gorgeous 1920s Excelsior leads the parade of bikes suspended from the ceiling.

1955 Mustang Thoroughbred.

1930 Indian. They don’t make ’em like that any more and if you have
ever tried to kick start one that’s probably a good thing!

Indian Chief with complex leading link girder front forks.

1913 Henderson 4.

The obese proprietor, Norm, hangs out on the couch,
below the Moto Guzzi and a classic Indian, breathing with an oxygen bottle.
The waitress is compiling a food order with his help.

All snaps on the Panasonic G1 with the kit lens at ISO800. Real Men don’t use flash.

Sad update: Norm Hobday passed away February 25, 2011. He is now in the afterworld, enjoying the world of the two wheeled afterlife. All speed, Norm.

Zealotry

Dining, Photography

To some extent, we are all guilty.

If you accept the modern definition of a zealot as one who advocates the use of a specific technology regardless of its suitability, then I confess I am guilty.

Until digital came along, I was a Leica zealot. Once disgust with Microsoft came to bear, I became an Apple zealot.

I would argue my motivation was simply that something better had come along.

In the case of Leica, superior point-and-shoots – which is what the M Leica is all about – came to market at a fraction of the cost with far greater capabilities.

With Apple it was far easier. The Mac worked. Windows did not.

And now I am a fan of both digital image making and Apple computers. To the exclusion of all else? Not a bit of it. If something better comes along for my purposes, I will move on.

Some Leica film users stick with their old cameras because it’s in their comfort zone. I have no issues with that. It may be that they are limiting their options but that’s not my business. Whatever works for you and makes good snaps possible, have at it.

But here’s what works for me – that sweet little pocketable Panasonic Lumix LX-1.

So, apropos nothing, here are two snaps taken the other day. One is at a favorite restaurant in San Luis Obispo named Novo on Higuera Street, which has a gorgeous patio setting over the river. I asked for the ‘special’ and this magnificent production, halibut on a bed of spinach with that exotic pink mushroom, subtle in size (a rarity in corpulent America), sublime in taste, was presented:

Then, wandering down to that great sausage shop on Marsh Street in this lovely Victorian town, what did I come across?

This great old car company is run by an Englishman named Peter. An American success. He came here some 25 years ago as an illegal immigrant, employs 10 people, now has legal status and works on the finest English machines you could dream of. And it simply does not get any better than an S1 Bentley. We will forgive the missing hubcap and those frightful whitewall tires.

Always carry a (pocketable digital) camera.