SOUL

… and Blue Bottle Coffee Company




 
Who says white boy ain't go no Soul? We just have to pay for it is all...

I had fully intended to have breakfast at Citizen Cake over in Hayes Valley this morning; however, after heading over there, I discovered that they had just relocated to Fillmore Street in Pacific Heights ~ where they are set to reopen May 2010. So, no "Rosebud!" for me… but expect a trip there sometime next month.

http://www.citizencake.com/

Instead, I ate at a new-ish "Hole-in-the-wall" (their actual term, not mine) called Soul over on Octavia Street (where it turns into that boulevard-y thing right before the onramp to Interstate 80) in the same neighborhood. The menu reflected just what the name states: good ol' Southern stick-to-your-ribs home-cookin'. They only have seating for thirty-two maximum. The place is so new their website is still not activated. So, sorry, no links to their menu just now (keep checking in the future).

www.soulsanfrancisco.com












 




I had their vegetarian breakfast special "the African Queen", which consisted of black-eyed pea fritters (stuffed with red & green onions and corn?), with grits, fresh fruit, and toast. I fully expected Kate Hepburn to bring out a plate of (w)Allnut(s), Charlie.
 


 
I love grits at breakfast. The first time I had ever had any were when I was a little kid (6-7 years old?). Tom Whitley, who I have known ever since as "Uncle Tom", was from Florida and stayed with us for several months after recuperating from a car accident. He talked my mother into making one of his favourite dishes "greets" for breakfast; and whatever he liked, I had to try also. The last time I saw Uncle Tom was about six years ago at my parents 50th anniversary party. I was a little disappointed that he didn’t ask for "greets" at the reception with his meal though.

Surprisingly enough (for this neighborhood and for the restaurant) my waiter was from Russia ~ Viktor (Виктор), from Saint Petersburg. I regaled (read: bored) him with BOTH Russian phrases that I can remember verbatim: "Я только знаю немнoжочко русского языка. (Ya tol'ko znayu nemnozhochka russkovo yazika.)"* and "Я был шпионом. (Ya byl shpionom.)". The first sentence means "I only know a smidgeon of Russian." and the latter means "I was a spy."; both usually get a chuckle from native Russians for some reason.

I asked Viktor how they now pronounce the new name of the old Leningrad/Petrograd and he told me that it is just pronounced "Sankt Peterburg" ~ pretty much the same way it sounds in English. I thought this was pretty funny as "Peter" in Russian is pronounced as "Pyotr" (Пётр). Viktor also informed me that to the indigenous populace the city is simply known as "Peter" (and I guess to the really hip locals just plain ol' "Pete").

After breakfast, I had to head over for another cup of coffee at the Blue Bottle Coffee Company. On the way, I passed through the little parklet on Octavia between Hayes and Fell Streets and came across my very own African Queen statue. They have rotating local artwork at this park, this current one stands about two stories tall (and now is home to a lot of the local birds in the neighborhood).














Their San Francisco kiosk is just down the street from Soul in a little alley, but they are always busy. I had a "New Orleans Style Iced Coffee" ~ not quite sure what that entailed (some roasted chicory in it, or perhaps they just import their ice from N’Orlans?), but it was very good and hit the spot with the day turning out pretty sunny and all.



http://bluebottlecoffee.net/

After all the good food and coffee, even this skinny, no-butt, white boy seemed to be able to walk with a little bit o' Soul in his step (but I still can’t count to four rhythmically)…


Glen Bacon Scale Rating: Breakfast ~ 6.3; Their Coffee ~ 5.5; BBCC New Orleans Style Iced Coffee ~ 7.3


*(While these sentences are not technically transliterated correctly, they are easier to read for the average stupid ’merican. Plus, I am not even sure any more that the Russian is grammatically correct or spelled right.)