i took my heart to san francisco, chapta 4

sad, so sad to be leaving the astonishingly beautiful countryside and hills of the napa valley and sonoma, i look ahead to what might lie ahead tonight. or not. pahleeze. who gives a frog's fat ass, i'm having a fabulous time.

i enjoy a leisurely drive. i'm not in a hurry, savoring my visits to bouchon bistro and the oakville grocery. i feel lucky. which is only slightly better than feeling cute. which i also feel. an electrifying combination. the bloody marys didn't hurt either.

as i reach the fog/golden gate, burr, it's jarringly cold and cloudy again.

i did just leave behind the best place on earth. where i had a lovely hotel room, paid for. and my potential dream man that i did not meet in napa. [he was probably working in his winery and i didn't make it there due to over-imbibing last night].

i got a little lost finding my way back to my home-pimpin-home known as the ritz. under normal circumstances i'd get a little stressed, if not full-on frenzied on the verge of crying, i'll admit. i know it's a small town though, san fran. plus it's really just a cooool town, no worries getting lost. nothing wrong with getting acquainted. due to the run i took earlier this day i easily recognize the track i need to get on, but not before meandering through the rolling streets and gardens around presidio boulevard - which is enchanting, romantic and i don't know, i think reminded me a little of newport for lack of good comparison.

how strange timing is though, and i pull up to the circle drive at the ritz directly behind 14.5 as he's removing those silly golf clubs from his rental. lucky for him he gets to admire my cute tibi dress. in the elevator on the way up i bestow upon him his winegift as well as two macaroons i picked up for him at bouchon bakery (situated btw right next door to bouchon the bistro - so totally darling). sweet of me, no?

because i got lost, i don't get to catnap like i would normally like to do. instead i need to get my fanny in the shower and get ready for exciting night out with a couple of his friends. hell. nothing that another $4 minibar red bull can't fix.

oh and if you're wondering, of course i donned the ritz-carlton bathrobe. duh. i contemplated having one of the ritz-angels come draw a bath for me [a cool bargain at $75] except that the bath menu states that it takes an hour and i don't have that kind of time. [yes, i just said "bath menu".] i didn't even have time to unwrap the ritz-carlton slippers. i love everything about this suite. i love that i can plug my ipod in and blast it like i'm at home. i love the lighting in the bathroom. i'm having a love-hate with the lighted 40x magnifying mirror; mostly love. i love the iron, i love the blowdryer, i love the fact that they're always coming to turn down your bed and leaving chocolates, water, more towels [more towels? what the f do you think's going on in here - believe me 18 towels is plenty]. i don't want to leave and if not for my dog philippe i think i could stay. is it my imagination or does everything at the ritz work better than my stuff at home?

so be-bopping down to the lobby, i'm gorgeoused up and we pop into a taxi to michael mina's latest greatest, rn-74 in the millennium tower on mission st. michael mina is one of those chef gods. not to the level of thomas keller or michel richard or my beloved wylie dufresne, but right up there. almost. i'm on the edge of my seat. rn-74's been open only a month. long enough to hopefully have ironed out any grand opening kinks. it's a resto that is heavily focused on wine - with a wine list long enough to impress even the snobbiest - 80 some pages. the restaurant is the benefactor of a sf gentleman who has opened his private collection to their patrons. it's very very dark in here. i like it. cool bar and bar scene to the right, we meet up with 14.5's friends, a charming, funny, sweet couple, and did i mention funny. and cool. i'd like to be a part of a couple like that. i'm envious. after a cocktail we're seated in the dining room situated to the left. of interest, perpendicular walls have high hanging, old-school train signs highlighting wines of tonight. one of them, supposedly, features wines of which there's only one bottle left - priced to move. cool concept, no?

i order for my appetizer the beef carpaccio. something raw is always on my list it seems. must be the wild animal in me. [roar.] goodness gracious - not only beautifully presented, categorically yummy. charred scallions, kohlrabi (ah ha, couldn't place it that night), macadamias and black truffle [that you could in fact taste] creme fraiche. a true gift this appetizer and one i couldn't be happier with.

my entree: grilled cobia amandine. served with sauteed blue foot mushrooms and romaine hearts and nicoise olives. and lots and lots of crunchy almonds coating the fish {perhaps too many?}. i really loved this dish too. i have no complaints. almost everyone loved their dishes as a matter of fact. except that 14.5 ordered the pan-seared halibut which was disappointingly overcooked to the point that it coulda been called fish jerky. ick. poor thing was terribly let down. huge bummer. i can only imagine what woulda happened to me working the fish station at citronelle if i'd sent that $hit out. i would have been sent home for the night. but not before receiving a bollocksing that would surely leave emotional scarring.

for dessert, i went what i'll call "off the registry" and mistakenly ordered the kumquat confiture. there was nothing confit about these kumquats. i might as well have been gnawing orange peels. son of a biatch. i think they should have been brunoised, or tiny diced and the dessert would have been better. back to the positive, 14.5 ordered yummy vanilla bean gelato that was a homerun. [more on homeruns later.]

wife of fun cute cool couple is really in the know. a girl after my own heart. she suggests that we head to a speakeasy not too far away. sadly they won't join as they've gotta baby at home. i'm pretty sure she's got the number in her cell phone, which is tres cool. she calls ahead to [warn] let them know we're coming and asks for the password: gatecrashers.

we head to bourbon and branch, a door without a sign. ring the doorbell, give him the gatecrasher password and host lets us in, leads us to very old, tiny booth table. good thing we're skinny. i ate a $hit-ton today and that could've been embarrassing trying to squeeze my non-spanxed arse in there.

hmm. i ordered a fruity something - you know you have to get extraordinary drinks at a speakeasy. none of this vodka soda nonsense. we had a nice time. i think at least. 14.5 likes deep discussions, as he's taking this period in his life to do some reflective introspection after icky buzzkill breakup. i'm pretty patient about this stuff. it's been a few conversations since the topic's been brought up. i gotta say though, to me, when someone continues to bring up the old ball and chain, it's a neon-flashing-honking-screaming sign that reads: i'm not gonna be into you no matter how cool you are. [this of course doesn't make me any less cool.] i'm just sayin. beware these people, people. and whatever you do, don't get yourself all lost and wrapped up. because it's a train headed to heartbreak city [population: me]. i'm saying this to myself mostly, because as outsiders, you already know this.

we're really sleepy after this long long day. we head back to spike lee's place [the ritz] and fall asleep. seriously. we do. that's it. i swear.