It’s a tough town to get a long with. It may be portrayed as the center of the modern world right now—the idyllic paradise where young CEOs seem to be starting startups straight out of college and dine at Michelin starred restaurants whenever they please.
You’d think I’d be inspired by these seemingly motivated “young kids,” grabbing life by the horns and becoming the future of business. Every time I hear someone say, “Yeah, I started my own app,” I feel like I’m going to vomit.
Kouign Amann and Almond Croissant at B. Patteserie.
Well maybe I’d start my own app too if I had Daddy’s trust fund as a security blanket to keep me warm at night. Perhaps I’m just being bitter. But as someone who moved to what used to be one of the world’s most artistic cities, and to become inspired by its creativity, I have become disappointed by the homogenous, and recklessly materialistic wasteland it has become.
Four Dollar Toast with Strawberry Jam at The Mill.
Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe it’s my fault that I chose not to get a techie job and live a Kate Spade-clad techie lifestyle. Maybe it’s my fault that I hate the Marina. Sorry Lululemon for not spending my life’s savings on your yoga pants. Sorry I don’t frequent the Ferry building farmer’s market to take IG photos, and shell out five bucks for a tiny(although very sweet) peach. What if I don’t want to make a reservation two months in advance just to eat at a decent restaurant?!
“Oh, but don’t you love the great food?” Yes, if I didn’t feel like I was bleeding hoards of money every time I ate out, then yes I’d love it here! I’d never leave this idyllic foodie paradise! (That four-dollar toast is legit doe.)
Yes, it’s my fault that I came to San Francisco to actually find myself and live out my dreams. How foolish of me.
Racks on racks of freshly baked bread at The Mill.
If you have lived in San Francisco for at least two years and have still not been to Yamo…you need to go immediately after reading this post.
Yamo has been an SF institution for like…ever. This place is the very definition of “hole-in-the-wall”. Tightly tucked between a cell phone store and the corner liquor, it’s an 8-seater eatery that dishes out the city’s best Burmese food that you can get for $6 a plate.
I’d heard of this Yamo place many times. Located on the corner of 19th and Mission St., I’d always hurriedly walked past, either on my way to my favorite vegan place, Gracias Madre, located on the opposite corner, or following some hipster foodies to some boujie trendy restaurant on Valencia. Out of all the good eats that SF has to offer, I never felt the urgency to try this hole-in-the-wall place which also didn’t have the best curb appeal.
Well…I know better now.
The Tenderloin has a bad rep, yes.
Historically, it’s always been bad here. This part of downtown San Francisco is called the “Tenderloin” because police officers used to get paid more to patrol this nasty area of the city, and were able to afford pricier cuts of meat, such as beef tenderloin.
This is where the homeless call home. It’s where rickety shopping carts packed with a lifetime of belongings crawl the streets squeaking past the makeshift flea markets that line the sidewalk floors. However, once you look past the neon-lit liquor stores located on every corner and the sleazy dive bars that stink of cigarette stained carpet, you’ll find yourself at the corner of Eddy and Larkin, where you will be greeted by the red and gold gateway to Little Saigon—home of the best pho in the city.
Since Thanksgiving, I’ve pretty much been traveling nonstop, only spending a few days here at home. And boy did I choose the right time to travel—smack dab in the middle of the worst storm to hit San Francisco in decades. I don’t usually eat out much on my own, but after a few delayed flights and nearly missing a job interview, I think I deserve a big bowl of steaming hot pho.
With dozens of pho places in Little Saigon alone, how is one supposed to choose? Well I’ve gone ahead and narrowed down the overwhelming selection to include my top 3 pho places. You can thank me later. Continue reading