Peaches

As I mentioned earlier in the week, the veggie gf and I are spending the next month or so in San Francisco, while she completes a medical rotation here and I — well, eat. We found a nice little one-bedroom sublet on craigslist that was not a scam at all (phew) and have been spending most of our free time so far wandering the streets casually in search of grub.

Sunday morning, our first full day here, we strolled down the hill (goddamn, they are not kidding around about these hills) and stumbled into the Fort Mason farmers’ market, where the free samples alone were basically a full breakfast. There were about 12 varieties of fresh peaches, plums and nectarines cut up for people to try, and each of them was about 100 times better than anything I’ve tasted on the East Coast so far this year. Needless to say, we left with several different kinds of peaches to take home.

That night, I picked up some coffee before heading home (goddamn, these people are not kidding around about their coffee), and while at the store, grabbed some pita for breakfast in the morning — I like to toast it up and melt a little butter and maybe some herbs on it — a simple but satisfying breakfast.

So while our place is nice, it turns out the girl we are renting from is, shall we say, significantly less obsessed with cooking than I am. She has no toaster. No coffee maker. No microwave. No spices past salt and pepper. It turned out even my simple breakfast of toasted pita was too fancy for this bare kitchen. I had my single-brew coffee maker on hand for emergencies, but clearly, I had to improvise.