#fleamarketmadness

I went for the second time to the Treasure Island flea market this weekend. My second time and it proved almost as good as the first. I don’t know about you, but every time I journey over the bay bridge I feel like I am taking a bit of adventure.  The fact that the sky was blue, the temperature was a mild 70 degrees and I had my boho skirt on might have had something to do with my holiday spirit.  But the fact that taking that trek out of the city happens so rarely is probably more of the culprit.  The other wonderful vaca like quality that seems to take over is the idea that I will be able to sip on a cocktail, have a makeshift picnic in the grass and possibly find that certain something that will be a unique and special memory. A lot like souvenir shopping, it is always filled with the excitement of finding that one unique something that will somehow mark your journey. Treasure Island doesn’t have a whole lot to offer, which is probably why I never really payed it any attention before. Or maybe it is because I only discovered that you don’t need a passport to get to Oakland in the last couple of years….but one exceptional perk is that you don’t have to pay a toll to get there!  I mean let’s face it; who doesn’t want to save a buck? Even if it is on a pseudo holiday. But I digress, what I have very recently discovered about Treasure Island is that I don’t know that I have seen a more spectacular view of the city.  Somehow from the island, it almost feels close enough to touch, but far enough away that you are reminded that it is something truly special. 

So in between my adult beverages and trolling the market for unique finds, I found that the most spectacular thing about the flea market is the true find of adventure in your own backyard. Or sometimes, you can find yourself, in Mexico.

#soulfoodisworththewait

so in continuing on my journey in creating a holiday atmosphere at home, I did as any sane, but very hungry person would do. I went to Brenda’s.  Brenda’s soul food in the good old TL ,(that’s the Tenderloin for you not local folks) where getting a seat in under an hour is nearly impossible and getting one in an hour and a half is what is defined as victory. By the time you sit down, you almost forgot what you were there for.  Until that is, you see the cream biscuits and beignets being tenderly put down at the table next to you.  You are then transported info the sweetest spot where all things soul food start to speak to, well…your soul. Like many other things I have been doing lately, Brenda’s is one of those places that while it’s your local, always makes you feel like your treating yourself to a mini vaca. Reason to celebrate you ask? If you count, “I rolled out of bed this morning and managed to brush my teeth” a cause for celebration, then most definitely. The juxtaposition between the worn out pavement that seems to tell a story, the homeless person on the corner barely clothed, and the occasional outburst regarding something about the devil, and the abundance of well to do, but ironic hipsters drinking lattes outside the restaurant creates an unsettling, but familiar (and dare I say comfortable) vibe. This is San Francisco, but it might as well be somewhere as far away from home as India.

The food transports you to a little pocket of the deep south, and whether or not you have been there, you belong. But it’s the scene outside that’s transformative….welcome to SF.