Baker Street Bistro

So this is what the houp-là[1] is all about... 
all about... 
all about...

http://www.bakerstreetbistro.com/


Place: Baker Street Bistro

Location: 2953 Baker Street (between Lombard and Greenwich Streets)

Hours: open for "le Brunch" Samedi et Dimanche at 9:00am

Meal: Pain Perdu A brunch favorite! ~ two slices of cinnamon French Toast, fresh fruit, strawberry coulis & crème fraîche; a side of home fries; and a cuppa (and just one refilla ~ I had a cuppa at home earlier in the morning before heading out and didn't want to be up all night[2]) their Café de la Maison


Mais bien sûr, no September work-out of my Breakfastary Starting Rotation would be complet sans une visite de retour à le Bistro sur Rue Baker (see last 'blog-entry from Saturday, April 14th, 2018).

"But, Brian, didn't you just say yesterday that a restaurant needs at least five or more stupid vegetarian-friendly dishes from which to choose to make it into your Breakfastary Starting Rotation?" Well, I just have three things to say about that: 
1) Ce Pain Perdu tout à fait extraordinaire counts as ten items, m*rde!; 
2) Mind yer own cire d'abeille!!; 
and 
3) See remarks 1) and 2)!!! 
(Just because that Italiano painter-guy, Pedro Picasso, only had one hit in his life with that "Moaning Liza" portrait, does not mean that people can not enjoy seeing it over and over again.)

I sat outside on their sidewalk-patio café area again, 'cause I could... unfortunately, Monsieur Soleil was not quite yet awake this morning, but at least most of the cold and fog (well, in that nape of the forest) had already quickly receded like George Costanza's hairline.

You know what they say: "No Pain (Perdu), no gain (fer you)!"

Les fruits du jour: raisins rouges, pastèque, cantaloup, ananas,[3] et pomme.

Baker Street Bistro only has Tabasco® Brand Hot Sauce (Original Red Sauce) for use as a condimentary supplement. I used some of my own H*ll's Kitchen® 
Whiskey Habanero Hot Sauce (Thanks, Mom!) on the potatoes along with several grind-twists from my trusty grains of paradise-grinder (and I might even have "accidentellement" grinded-up some on top of les Pain Perdu, aussi... do not judge me, Aaron!).

the Wild Parrots of San Francisco Interlude

Because I had once again parked over near the Lombard Gate of the Presidio, I was hoping to see some of the local caterwauling feather-brains. I did hear several of them in the area; however, I really only saw one pair flying overhead later while I was eating breakfast a block away.


Glen Bacon Scale Rating:
Pain Perdu A brunch favorite! ~ 8.2;
the Wild Parrots of San Francisco ~ 8.5

___________________

1. Stupid, useless cunning linguist pointer (of sorts) of the day:

(This definition/explanation is directly stolen... er... borrowed from Marianne Webster's own book.)

In French, the interjection houp-là is used roughly the same way as English's upsy-daisy or whoops-a-daisy, as one might say when picking up a child. (This usage can be found in English, too, in such works as Booth Tarkington's The Magnificent Ambersons and James Joyce’s Ulysses.) In the early 20th century, the word, playing on the syllable hoop, gave its name to a ring-toss game played at carnivals. But before that, hoopla was used in American English to refer to a kind of bustling commotion, and later, as a term for sensationalist hype.

2. Someone once said to me: "I do not know why I drink Coffee. It always goes right through me." To which I replied: "Yeah, and why even bother breathing when you will only exhale the air, anyway, right?!"

Sheesh, some people!

3. Do you think the snooty-*ssed French dare call their serial comma "une virgule d'Oxford"?