Everybody slept in this morning. And by slept in, I mean like 8:30 or 9. (Fools. I was hoping for 11.) And we all took a while showering, making a grocery run and getting things together. Actually, I have no idea what time we finally got out as a group but it was getting close to lunchtime and, since we hadn’t eaten since the night before (in Phoenix!), we were all pretty hungry when we set out on foot in search of food. (Makes us sound like a pack of wild bears. Which fits.)
I think if I lived in San Francisco I could eat whatever I wanted and yet somehow manage to have a butt of steel. The streets here are pretty steep for a flatlands Louisiana girl. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. I’m a very pedestrian person, especially on vacation. If my family didn’t stop me, I know I could walk Manhattan top to bottom in one (albeit long and blister-inducing) trip.
So, after lots of fat-burning activity, we reached the Farmer’s Market at Ferry Plaza, located along the Embarcadero at the foot of Market Street. Behind this open air market is the Ferry Building Marketplace.
And take a look at what I found inside!
Holy cheese, I’m home! I found my people.
If you’re a true turophile, you should be able to SMELL this picture.
And, after sampling a quantity of cheese that most people would call a meal, I finally made my selections, bought them and went to enjoy everything with my mom and kids outside in the courtyard area.
Here’s what we had on the menu:
- Herbed Fromage Blanc
- Mt. Tam (their signature, award-winning, triple-cream cow’s milk creation)
- Colston Basett Stilton
- Port-soaked Figs
- Rosemary Bread Rolls
- Sourdough Batard
- Chocolate Almond Toffee
I don’t think Johnny Depp himself seated beside me gorging on cheese with us would’ve made me more happy. FAT and happy. I’d better look for lots of those San Francisco butt-busting streets to trek up an down tomorrow.
After coming down from my cheese high, we shopped the Farmer’s Market a bit then the boys splintered off to take in a San Francisco Giants game while the girls hopped a trolley to Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco’s answer to Times Square. (Sure, it’s touristy. Don’t judge. I AM a tourist. Duh.) The temperature was really starting to drop so I am now the proud owner of a Mexican-made, pancho-style hoodie. (Again, don’t judge. What is WITH you today?)
We did lots of mindless shopping in the area … and a little more mindless eating. My girl finally got the Clam Chowder in a Sourdough Bread Bowl she’s been angling for all day. Oh, and I got my palms read. And my chirologist said half of you are going to die and half of you are going to meet a mysterious stranger. Wait … I wonder if all of these “mysterious strangers” have anything to do with all of this “dying.” Well, whatever. The next winning lotto numbers are 8, 11, 19, 27, 32 and 41. (If you win, I expect a nice cut. I’m totally serious.)
Anyway, here are just a few of the other interesting things I saw today:
It doesn’t say it will give you a lisp … but maybe it makes you sound like Jim J. Bullock?
I really want to know who’s buying “One for $1.00.” Honey stoners.
One of the only two sea lions hanging out at Pier 39 West Marina. Apparently, their numbers can get as high as 900 in the winter, but they migrate South to the Channel Islands for mating season this time of year. I guess this dude has no aspirations of becoming a father.
Alcatraz, as seen from the stupid pier. I really hope we’re able to get a little closer before this trip’s done. Or we’ll be the only boobs ever to break INTO Alcatraz.
I’ve heard tell of this chain for years. We went inside to buy one of the four items on their menu but were totally dissuaded by the long line. Feel free to tell me if you think I made a mistake.
Anyway … I should probably go. My upstairs neighbors just got home and I’d hate to think that the clicking of my keyboard is keeping them up. So, I’m off to bed. See you tomorrow.
Click to read past installments of this trip journal … Day 1.