For us, a huge part of the San Francisco experience (or any experience, for that matter) is the food.
The main reason we went to San Francisco was for Boudin sourdough bread (okay, and to see Cousin Ashley).
Who doesn’t love the thought of eating 150-year-old bread!
This is the stuff that dreams and love handles are made of—yum!
Check out the big crab! (I’m talking about the bread, people.)
Only three ingredients—flour, water, salt…and of course the 150-year-old sourdough starter, which was originally the natural yeasts from the air.
Yup, we bought six loaves. And ate three of them before we made it back to camp.
Enough about the bread already. Onto the next meal:
Clam chowder on Fisherman’s Wharf—one bowl, seven spoons.
Spoons at the ready. On your mark, get set, hey!
He did share. Now onto dessert:
We walked for three miles to get to Ghiradelli Square for their legendary hot fudge sundaes.
There’s nothing like a bunch of ice cream pictures to make you drool on your keyboard, so here ya go.
A sidenote on little Rebecca’s ice cream experience: Someone made the mistake of telling this three-year-old that we were going to have sundaes in San Francisco. She obsessed over it all day. Finally, she got her sundae…
That’s a lot of whipped cream to eat through.
And by the time she discovered ice cream, she was too cold to eat it. So we went and sat in the sun. She took a few more bites, but it was too windy to eat ice cream. So we went and sat out of the wind, but it was still too chilly for Little Miss. So we went to the roof of Ghiradelli’s…
Where her little highness announced that the ice cream had melted and she didn’t want it. All I have to say about her majesty is, “No comment.”
You may notice the absence of pictures of Christy eating. That is because she is nursing a dairy-sensitive baby, so this ultra-devoted mama passes on the ice cream, chowder, cheese, sweets, and on and on and on…
Instead she gets this:
Well worth the trade. Well worth it indeed.