http://www.bakerstreetbistro.com/
Place: Baker Street Bistro
Location: 2953 Baker Street[1] (at Lombard Street)
Hours: open at 9:00am for "Brunch" on Saturday & Sunday (it should be noted that it states this time right at the top of their home page on their web-site and on the hours of operation sign in their window; however, it actually says on the "Brunch" page of their menu on their web-site, "Join us for brunch Saturdays & Sundays from 9:30am to 2:30pm.")
Meal: Oeufs[2] Baker Street Bistro ~ ratatouille, poached eggs, English muffin, tomato sauce ~ served with home fries & mixed greens; and a cuppa good, strong Coffee
(Sometimes you actually get pretty lucky with these EweToobular juxtaselections. I was very surprised to find a Good Rats video there. My first introduction to these guys was way back in 1978 ~ Space-bo, Gospodin Traulshchik!)
Encore en fois je suis retourné à Baker Street Bistro (see last 'blog-entry from January 4th, 2014). I sat inside again this morning, as it was still a bit overcast and cool outside (the only people braving the weather outside in the sidewalk café portion were the same couple that I have seen there a few times now, but they had no choice as they had their large Standard Poodle[3] with them again).
the Wild Parrots of San Francisco Interlude
Having once again parked over by the Presidio's Lombard Gate, I saw a few of the fine-feathered pests way up in the treetops there. I was expecting to hear a lot more of their inane chattering, but I think that most of the local company had already taken off for work this morning.
It is interesting to note (well, it is to me) that I ate at Baker Street Bistro exactly one year ago and ordered the same meal as I did this morning. I had the Pain Perdu on my last two visits there, and, as I always say, even if they didn't have the Best French Toast in San Francisco, the Oeufs Baker Street is still worth a return visit on its own accord. This play on Eggs Benedict is right up there in taste and originality with last week's breakfast at Dottie’s True blue café.
You can see (even from my crummy photographic efforts) that this dish is far from achromous. Ratatouille is normally made with eggplant[4] (a botanical berry, of course), zucchini[5] (botanically a fruit, but not a berry), tomatoes (also botanical berries) and bell peppers (more botanical berries), but they don't use any eggplant in the mess at Baker Street Bistro. I guess that this is sorta "less 'rata' and more 'touille'...". But you know what the French say, "À bien tomatôt!"
As always, the Coffee was very good and strong, and I was plied with many a refill.
Baker Street Bistro only offers for condimentary supplementation Tabasco® Brand Hot Sauce (the standard red). I used some of my own Dave's Gourmet® Ginger Peach Hot Sauce (Thanks, Jim!) on the homefries and a little Serious Food… Silly Prices Chunky Habanero Hot Sauce (Thanks, Cindy & Greg!) on just one of the poached eggs to mix in with the tomato sauce and the egg yolk.
I actually picked up a brand new stupid, useless cunning linguist pointer today. Whenever Chantal would bring the plates of food to the tables, she would do so with a flourish and state, "Et voilà!". So, after hearing this a few times with each of the customers being served before me, and when she finally brought my meal to me, utilizing my best Tony Schloss analytical skills[6], I ratiocinated[7] that this must be the French equivalent of "Bon Appétit!"
And as sheer luck would have it, Dr. Watson, this was another great early morning breakfastary repast. "Et voilà!" to everyone!
Glen Bacon Scale Rating: Oeufs Bakers Street Bistro ~ 7.4
1. For any of you Holmesophiles (and everyone knows that San Francisco is full of that kind of person; you know what they say, "One out of three guys in San Francisco is a 'Holmesophile'. So, if you look to your left and to your right and don't see one, that must mean you are a bit 'Baker Street Irregular' yourself."), if you were wondering where 221B, Baker Street might be located in San Francisco (if there was such an actual address here), I think that would be way over where the Panhandle ends by the San Francisco branch of the California DMV, between Fell and Oak Streets.
2. Additional stupid, useless cunning linguist pointer du jour, numéro un:
"Oeufs" simply means "eggs" in French. However, the similar French word "oeuvre" that we have adopted into English to mean "the body of work produced by an artist" originally comes from the Latin word "opera" (which is the plural of "opus", meaning "work", not "penguin"); and everyone knows that you can't make an opera without cracking a few opus.
3. This is something that I never knew, the dog breed of Poodle is believed to have originated in Germany, not France.
Additional stupid, useless cunning linguist pointer des Tages, Nummer zwei:
"Poodle" was originally known in German as "Pudelhund"; "Pudel" (which is a cognate with the English word "puddle") is derived from the Low German verb meaning "to splash about".
4. Additional stupid, useless cunning linguist pointer du jour, numéro trois:
"Eggplant" in French is "aubergine" (and not "oeufplante"); it is also known as "aubergine" in Great Britain, too, but everyone knows that those idiots needs to learn them some correct English.
5. Additional stupid, useless cunning linguist pointer du jour, numéro quatre:
"Zucchini" in French is "courgette"; again, for some reason, the stupid British call this fruit "courgette". I always thought they hated everything French.
6. These two stories really show what it takes to be a professional "cunning linguist".*
There once was a Russkij 208 stationed in Berlin (let's just call him "Anthony Castle" for our story purposes) that really knew how to figure out any unknown German words when confronted with them.
Story A:
One time while our linguistic hero was getting his first tattoo at a local parlour, the tattooist had a large German Shepherd (strangely enough, this breed actually originated in France**) with him in the studio. Whenever the dog would stand up, the tattoo artist would command "Platz!" and the dog would then either sit or lie down. After this happened several times, "Herr Castle" turned to his other friend (whom we will just call "Doug DePraved" for this story) that was also getting a tattoo and said, "Hey! That dog's name must be 'Platz'…”
Story B:
"Kleine Anthony" had it all figured out how to order "a small Beer" at die Kneipen when he was getting a little full. In most pubs in Berlin, you could usually order a Beer in either 0.2 liter or 0.5 liter sizes (and for the really stout of thirst, you could order a full liter boot, too). The expression for "one more Beer" in German is "einmal Bier" ("einmal" basically means "once" in German, I will let you determine what the second word in that articulation means). Unfortunately, "Herr Castle" mistook this to be three words: "ein mal Bier". Using all the cunning linguistic analytical prowess at his disposal (he knew his German numbers pretty well and he and "Bier" went way back), he decided that "mal" must mean "small". I just hope he never received "a bad Beer" in a French restaurant when ordering like this.
*(As these events actually occurred about thirty years ago now, I can neither confirm nor deny their veracity.)
**(Nah, not really! But I bet someone actually bought that stupid joke.)
7. Look it up, Mr. Porter.
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