My dude and I are fairly new to the Bay Area, having relocated here from Seattle in late January because his job paid us to. To be honest, we haven’t done enough exploring in this city yet – or hadn’t, until I came up with what I think is the most ingenious idea I’ve ever had: get to know the city by eating breakfast everywhere.
It’s too easy to run out of tourist destinations; after all, and after seven months of living in a city, you start to want to feel like a resident rather than a visitor. So, armed with a list of Yelp highly-rated breakfast and brunch places and a voracious appetite for biscuits, omelets, and waffles, Mr. Bruiseday and I hit the first place on our list last weekend: B Restaurant and Bar in SOMA (that’s South of Market for you non-Franciscans), atop the terrace in Yerba Buena Gardens. If it sounds pretty, that’s because it is: Yerba Buena is a strangely relaxing oasis in the middle of the hustle and bustle of downtown corporate San Francisco, surrounded by shopping centers and sky scrapers and museums. But the Gardens are strangely quiet and pretty, all things around them considered, and I already had another favorite destination in this park before we tried B (Samovar Tea Lounge).
B Restaurant and Bar is a warmly modern restaurant, with lush golden pillows on the seats and sprigs of herbs displayed on the wall shelving; all of its walls are glass, so you can see the flora that grows in the gardens around you as you eat. The music was turned down really low, so it took us a while before we realized that every song they played was straight off the soundtrack from our middle school dances: old No Doubt, Smash Mouth, U2 circa “The Sweetest Thing,” The Cranberries. No complaints here, though it was a bit dissonant from the rest of the cozy zen-like surroundings.
But the food: I ordered the smoked salmon Benedict on brioche, and Mr. Bruiseday ordered the soft-scrambled eggs with wild mushrooms and fromage blanc. It was so, so good:
The herb-roasted potatoes weren’t over done or too greasy; the Hollandaise was light and a little tart but not overly so; the eggs, whether poached or soft-scrambled, were done to perfection. No overcooked scrambled eggs here, nor the revolting tendency some cooks have to under poach. And the brioche on that Benedict? Holy cow. Not to mention: props to the servers, who were attentive but not invasive. It’s sometimes a hard balance to strike, especially when the restaurant isn’t too busy, and it can be tempting to a skilled server to check in too often. These guys were total pros.
Mr. reported that his espresso was excellent, and while my raspberry lemonade was only middling, it wasn’t bad enough to complain about.
It was nice to start our brunch adventures in a part of the city we know pretty well already (as we both work in the neighborhood), but trying something new for once, too, was a special treat. We’re looking forward to next weekend’s adventures.
What is the best breakfast you’ve ever had? Where did you have it?