Garden House Cafe

Happy Very Holy Person Patricius Day[1]!


(No official web-site.)

3117 Clement Street

phonicular contact: (415) 668-1640
 

http://maps.google.com/maps/place?hl=en&safe=off&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.r_qf.,cf.osb&biw=1366&bih=639&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=garden+house+cafe&fb=1&gl=us&hq=garden+house+cafe&hnear=0x80859a6d00690021:0x4a501367f076adff,San+Francisco,+CA&cid=18176808500880137965
 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eq3YLhtuzTQ
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FgyVvoODWGA&feature=fvst
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=endscreen&v=tHDX9qb2-BQ
 
(I just wanted to include some traditional Irish music in honour of the holiday. Sorry, you may need Google Translate to understand the garbled singing of Shane MacGowan; and you gotta love that he's smoking and drinking the entire time while this is being filmed.)


I really didn't have time or the appetite for a full breakfast (neither a Full Irish nor a Full English even, Monty ~ see 'blog-entries from January 26th, 2012 and January 1st, 2011) as I am having lunch later this (early) afternoon at a Mexican restaurant in San Mateo ("A man's got to know his limitations", Clint) and really didn't think I would be able to eat that much this morning and still have room for a decent lunch. So I simply had a quick breakfast at one of the closer coffee shops in my neighborhood, Garden House Cafe, which is just a block away from my apartment on Clement Street. It's a nice enough little place, and I like being able to just walk over there to get a fresh cuppa once in a while. You would think their coffee would be better than it is; however, it's usually kinda weak, but generally still better than the swill I can make at home (except for when I make some Bettys or Peet's®, of course). The truly fun part about this place is that they actually have a "garden" patio that you can enjoy your drinks and food on, "whether" permitting…

Garden House Cafe really only has your typical café menu and offers croissant or bagel sandwiches, pastries, and such. As they were fresh outta the "such" this morning, I simply got an egg and cheese (which was probably cheddar) bagel sandwich and a small cuppa Fog Lifter (a medium-dark roast blend) coffee. I also had a tangerine that I already had at home.

(Sorry, no picture of my breakfast this morning. It was a bagel with scrambled eggs and cheese, use your imagination.)

Now this is the strange part of the breakfast: I requested to have the sandwich on a cinnamon-raisin bagel. That was not the strange part; the lady behind the counter didn't bat an eye and said that was her favourite, too. It actually was a pretty tasty combination, savory-sweet.

I really didn't bother to ask what they had for condimentary supplementation, but, once again, I did use a little Palo Alto Fire Fighters Pepper Sauce (Thanks agains, Amys!) on the eggs in the bagel. Seriously, don't knock it until you have tried it. I left my tangerine as it was, though, as putting any hot sauce on it would have been plain silly.

Tiocfaidh ár lá!


Glen Bacon Scale Rating: Egg & Cheese Bagel Sandwich ~ 5.7; Fog Lifter ~ 6.2; Tangerine ~ 6.5


[1] Just a few myth debunkers about "Saint" "Patrick":
 
a) Depending on whom you ask, his name was either:
 
Patricius (the official Latin name, which most religiosos would probably have gone by back in the 4th and 5th Century A.D.D.); Qatrikias (Primitive Irish); Cothraige or Coithrige (Old Irish); Pátraic (Middle Irish); Pádraig (Irish); Patric (Old Welsh); Padric (Middle Welsh); Padrig (Welsh); Patric (Old English). So, take your pick, or paig…
 
b) He is not an actual "Saint" in the Catholic Church as he has never been canonized by a Pope. However, the Catholic Church does recognize "Saint Patrick's Day" as a Catholic holiday; go figger.
 
c) There never were any snakes in Ireland that needed to be driven out (ceptin' maybe some local politicians and lawyers). I suppose I can claim to be the Patron Saint of New Zealand, Iceland, Greenland, and Antarctica by stating I drove all the (nonexistent) slithering reptiles from those lands.
 
d) He was not even Irish; he was born in what is probably now Wales.
 
If you have a problem with any of these facts, take it up with Wikipedia… or Cliff Clavin.