A very warm day in the middle of a heat wave. I spend much of the day working on my book in a borrowed room, and at the end of the afternoon I go to the Atlas Cafe in the Mission District to have a cappucino and make a few notes.

As I circle to find a parking place, which is difficult in the Mission even on a Saturday afternoon, I notice an unmarked police car with a plainclothes driver keeping an eagle eye out for something. And a couple minutes later I see three cop cars come roaring up the street. They turn the corner by the cafe.

When I reach its front door I see the cops have detained two Latino teenagers dressed in the baggy, neutral uniform of the neighborhood: white t-shirts and black shorts. There are now five cop cars for these two kids, whom I had idly noticed walking quietly along a block away when I was looking for parking.

Inside the cafe, most of the tables are occupied with people studying or working on laptops. A young woman and young man are playing guitars — mostly ragtime and songs from the 1920s. They play a few choruses and then the woman sings one of those old songs in a clear tenor voice. (Their names, I found out when I looked at the CD they had for sale, are Craig Ventresco and Meredith Axelrod, and here’s a YoutTube video of them performing at the Atlas earlier this year.)

The cops let the two kids go and the police cars drive away. Almost no one in the cafe noticed the roust taking place across the street.

After several songs, the woman’s place is taken by a young man, who plays instrumentals while the woman passes a hat. Then a couple in their thirties — the man in a straw fedora, a woman in a sundress — stand up and begin to dance the tango. The guitarists are still playing ragtime but the dancers are good enough to do the tango to ragtime anyway.

I always get a little nervous when I see San Francisco listed on the front page of the Sunday New York Times travel section. A haute restaurant here, a travel deal there: frequently their writing about places outside of the greater New York area seems to have an air of superiority. When I was in Chicago they ran a piece about Wicker Park that seemed condescending (to the effect of “Look at these funky people who live here! How quaint.”)

Yesterday’s piece on Valencia Street, “Hipster Hunting Ground,” wasn’t quite as offensive, but it still seemed to view the Corridor through a Brooklyn lens. The Curiosity Shoppe, Paxton Gate, Spork, and Ritual Roasters were all featured, and fairly. I was surprised, however, that Dosa was featured while Range didn’t get a mention; the same for Little Star (maybe I’m just a sucker for the jukebox and heirloom tomatoes). The piece, while limited in length, doesn’t capture the neighborhood’s character and even gets lazy toward the end: “Like the street itself, [Amnesia's] lineup is full of surprises.”

Two of my favorite things are set to convene this Wednesday: Ritual Roasters and Bikes to Rwanda, a non-profit that unites American roasters to improve the quality of life for Rwandan coffee farmers. A ping-pong tournament is set for July 9th at 5 PM at 1026 Valencia to help build five bike shops. Read: the $25 you could spend this week on big brand coffee could provide a co-op farmer with a bike toolset, including tire lever, frame pump, and wrench.

I’m a big fan of Clara Seasholtz, the founder of the organization that raises money for a low-cost bicycles that farmers use to transport supplies and 130-pound bags of beans. Seasholtz helped the group provide more than 250 bikes to farmers last year and is currently focusing on opening bike shops in Rwanda to teach communities how to care for and build bikes. She’s on a Northern California trip this week, and I admire her unique approach to using what she knows (the American coffee industry) to impact what she saw as problematic (Rwandan farmers lacking transportation to increase their marketability). Now that deserves some table tennis.

I must admit that Zuni Café is an old stand-by for me. It is my go-to restaurant for late-ish dining, for entertaining out-of-town guests, for enjoying a meal with hard-to-impress friends, and it seems, for constructing sentences with lots of hyphenated phrases.

I’m hardly breaking new ground by reviewing Zuni, but more and more, I’ve run into people who’ve lived in San Francisco for at least a couple of years and have never eaten there. My advice: invite some out-of-town guests to visit and take them to Zuni.

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A couple weeks ago on the MediaBistro site Agency Spy, a blog about the advertising industry, there was a post about a mysterious (to me) booklet published by “an international trends-led publishing, events and consultancy business” called Piers Fawkes. The booklet, PSFK Snapshot, purported to be a sort of guidebook to San Francisco’s most cutting-edge culture, the places to find the real trend-setters, or “influencers,” which I think is the more current term.

Curious, I ordered the book (seen at left). It’s a square booklet about 4 inches on a side, and about 56 pages long. It lists a few cafes, restaurants, art galleries, community events and so on. The list is pretty standard hipster fare: Blue Bottle Coffee, Red Poppy Art House, The Crucible, Maker Faire, Burning Man. In other words, nothing you wouldn’t learn living in San Francisco for one week, or by reading this blog, SFist, and BoingBoing for a month or so.

I got through the whole book in about 90 seconds, and when I was done I understood even less what the book was for. Suppose it is absolutely essential to know that the most snobbish coffee fanatics go to Blue Bottle. If I’m in the advertising industry, what is that knowledge going to get me?

In fact, I was much more interested in the booklet as a product of the Blurb publishing website, where you can upload photos and text and have them print a pretty little book. If I were a photographer, or preparing a booklet for my mother’s 70th birthday or something, it looks like a great service.

more thoughts after the jump

After dropping the kids off at school, I strapped on my crash helmet and pedaled through Golden Gate Park towards Trouble Coffee, which according to the map on the website is somewhere in the neighborhood of Judah and 46th Ave. I could tell you the exact address - and so could Trouble - but where would the fun be in that? In other words, if you’re curious, you’ll find it. Others have come before you, and didn’t fall off the side of the world. It’s right before you pass the serpents lurking in the waters beyond Ocean Beach. You know, across from 7-11.

Trouble is 225 sq feet of space, most of which is behind the counter. Very clever, in my opinion. The owner is named Julieta (Giulietta?), and she said it was about the size of a hotel room. Less is more, or as explained in her manifesto and the sign outside, “Make your own damn house!” Well, it looks like she’s done just that, and you’re invited. Except Tuesdays and Wednesday when it’s closed.

Besides espresso drinks and drip coffee dubbed “elbow grease”, she serves toast and whole coconut. Seriously. Every cafe should offer toast, and yet they don’t. So don’t be dumb. Order the toast. She gets the bread from Just For You Cafe. The toast was perfect, and came with cinnamon and sugar on top even though I didn’t ask any, nor did I complain, because I got the last piece of toast that day, which I think was some sort of omen in my favor.

Order a coconut. She gets them from trees. But don’t just drink the juice with the straw, use the spoon that was given to you. Don’t waste the good stuff even if you have to work for it. I’m not being bossy here, it’s just my advice.

Are you like Charlie Brown and say, “blech!” to the idea of coconut? Okay, fine. But be honest here, have you ever tried a whole coconut? I’ve had coconut in things like cookies and candy bars, but it was the first time I’d ever walked in to a place and said in a clear voice, “May I please have a coconut”… and I’m here to tell you today you won’t regret the experience.

Revolution cafe SF

Originally uploaded by baratunde.

For a few years in the 1990s I experienced San Francisco from a combination of wheelchair, crutches, cane, and my own legs, which occasionally cooperated. Merciful time has intruded and helped me to forget all the valuable lessons learned as I was carried up and down the stairs at the 14th St. faerie house and as I inconvenienced everyone in countless restaurants. Now, from a slipped disc, I’m back in a chair for a while, so I figure I’ll put my navigational adventures on Metroblogging SF. The landscape of a city is very different when you’re on wheels! Every bump and incline counts.

My goal last night was to hang out with friends and to get to the Make-out Room to see Writers With Drinks. My friend and I were able to park in the 21st and Bartlett Garage. Whoa! Did you know that between 21st and 22nd, there is an ever so slight incline? My wimpy triceps don’t make the cut, yet, so I needed a push.

As a creature of habit, “stodgy” even, I have routines, and one of them is to stop at Revolution Cafe for a latte before going to Writers With Drinks. And at Revolution… whoops! A significant step up, about a 4 inch leap, not completely impossible if I had a sportier chair. At a table outside on the sidewalk, I was able to lurk and chat with a stranger while my friend ordered our coffee. My new table buddy, a dude from Sacramento, had extremely beautiful long silver hair, nicely clean and brushed. It’s the rare hippie guy around here who knows how to use “product”… We struck up an acquaintance. I told him where to get pizza (that place around the corner that sells it by the slice, or Little Star on Mission, or Pauline’s on Mission). He told me all about the Piedmont Piano Company, where they have incredibly fancy 10 foot concert grand pianos and have amazing shows with famous blues and jazz musicians that are cheap and have only 15 or 20 people show up, sometimes. Meanwhile, I stared with the most basilisky, baleful glare I could muster at the wooden railroad tie that prevented my going into the cafe to use their bathroom. If baleful glares could melt wood… Hey Revolution people, build a tiny ramp - how hard could it be? Just smooth it out a little.

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Maxfield’s cafe on 17th and Dolores is a typical Mission District cafe, just as full of hipsters but a little sunnier and lighter. I really like the atmosphere here, and the wireless signal is easy to catch. Yelp entry.

Only downside: parking’s very tight, though I often have luck on 17th St. just to the north.

Word came to me today from the Inner Sunset Merchants Association that the Canvas Gallery will be closing its doors soon. This is sad news for all of those who live nearby as the Canvas was a great meeting place, with decent food and a nice gallery. They held excellent community events, giving local artists and crafstmen/women the opportunity to sell their wares. Note, imho the food and service passed its peak some time ago, unfortunately this may have been the leading indicator that the gallery was going to fold. If you are a regular at the Canvas, let them know they will be missed. If you have never been, now is the time.

There is also a rumour circulating that the Canvas will be replaced by a seafood restaurant called Pacific Catch. They have locations in the Marina and Corte Madera.

Previously on Metblogs: The Canvas.

Thanks to Mark Pritchard I was at the huge blowout used book sale at Green Apple Books on Clement and 5th! And it’ll go on for months, with new books brought up from the warehouse every week.

We were all elbow to elbow with our necks sideways, concentrating, muttering, calculating prices. The crowd was intense and intent, biting their lips with concentration. At one point I lunged halfway across the room with my hand stuck out and nabbed an old hardback copy of The Country of the Pointed Firs; I think I whimpered with happiness at my luck and then realized that about 10 people were giggling and beaming approval. After about an hour & a giant armload of books & a stiff neck, at the checkout I had only spent 50 bucks.
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