Despite his local Italian roots, Foodgoat hates Cleveland's Little Italy district. Why? Because it's generally mediocre.

San Francisco's Little Italy district, North Beach, is generally tasty (well, except for that Stinking Rose place, which is gimmicky and prone to gastrointestinal consequences).

It was a North Beach place, Trattoria Pinocchio, that turned out to be the restaurant discovery of the trip. Foodgoat and his brothers stumbled upon after he took them on a vigorous walk up to Coit's Tower. They stopped for drinks and appetizers and ended up staying for dinner, and liked it so much that the word spread and soon, several other visitors ate there and declared it good.

I had a seat in the back, with a view of the stoves, so every once in a while I would see a burst of flames in the background. I don't know what they were making, but it was exciting, and the food was delizioso.

The calamari was especially yummy, being crisp and tender and perfectly cooked, and the pasta dishes also were winners. Even Foodgoat thought so, and where Italian food is concerned, he's not easy to please.

The New Face of Evil

I came home to find that Cleveland's summer weather had kicked in, bringing high heat and lots of rain, which was very good for my strawberry patch. The leaves were huge and there were berries aplenty, all approaching ripe red goodness.

And then one afternoon, I opened the back door to let Sienna the Dog out and there in the middle of the lawn was the Scurrilous Groundhog, who has previously poached from my compost pile.

And not one of my strawberries remained.

Sienna the Dog very nearly caught the fat thief, who has built up his very own Talibanesque network of tunnels in our backyard, but he remains at large.

The Old Ball & Chain Eats Burgers, Drink Wine

We're back from San Francisco! And Foodgoat and Ladygoat are officially a Mr. & Mrs. The wedding was fun, the food was actually good, and no, we don't have any pictures yet. But I did snap a photo of my pre-wedding lunch:
Yup, that's In-and-Out. Even the Fisherman's Wharf In-and-Out is delish.

A week in California has also activated the wine drinker in Foodgoat, because since coming back, he's been passing over the beer aisle for the wine selection. Blame his aunt for that transformation - she took him and his brothers to the Rosenblum Cellars tasting room, where they sampled several of their famous Zinfadels.

Since then, Foodgoat has been on the hunt for the Rockpile Road Vineyard Zinfadel. It appears to have completely opened his eyes to wine, for he described it as "amazing ... smooth ... luxurious" and likens it to having a Scharffen-Berger chocolate after only having Hershey's all one's life.

I was busy making centerpieces and favors that day, so I missed out on that fun. Fortunately, our favorite wine shop reported that their distributor could get some to them at the end of the month, so I'll finally get to sample this thing.

San Francisco Dining

Now that the wedding details are in place and my flight to the Bay Area looms, my thoughts are now turning to what to eat the rest of the time that I'm in California.

Foodgoat and I are mourning the loss of Sushi Lovers in Milpitas and vainly trying to recall where the best burritos in the city are.

Otherwise, where to go? where to take our various visitors? I'm perusing the egullet forums for ideas. There are Nation's pies, for one thing. I'd love to go to the notorious farmer's market at the Ferry Building. Shall my adulthood official by having a cocktail at the Top of the Mark? A tour of the Cowgirl Creamery. Perhaps some sake bombs at Mas Sake, the Hooter's of sushi? A visit to the Point Reyes oyster farms. Oooh, an earthquake sundae at Ghiradelli Square? Early on we had in mind to go to the French Laundry, but somehow I think we won't quite make it.

Everything is Actually Only Four Things

Until last week, I had never had, nor did I have any inclination to try, an everything bagel. Onion bagel, yes. Asiago cheese, definitely. Everything bagel, no. Even though Foodgoat loves them.

Because an everything bagel would have, well, everything, right? Cinnamon sugar, garlic, raisin, pumpernickel, chocolate chip, the works. Why else would they all it an everything bagel?

But apparently I was reading it a little too literally. Everything really means just poppy seeds, sesame seeds, onion, and salt. And it turns out it tastes awesome. And now every morning I split a Thomas everything bagel with cream cheese with Foodgoat.