Güero Eats: Corazon de la Mission

Corazon de la Mission, the street food event at La Victoria this past Saturday appeared to be total success as far as this güero's taste buds’ could tell.

I received a Facebook invite from the my old schoolmate and owner of La Vicotoria Bakery, Jaime “Jam for the People” Maldonado, so the family and I headed over for some of what the Mission District is known for – delicious street food!

We sampled some wild boar perogies from ForageSF, empanadas from Venga, smoked sausage gumbo from the Gumbocart and lastly I gotz to give special shout out to my man Dontaye from Goodfoods with his “big bad” brisket that melts in your mouth. My son and I usually hit up Goodfoods at the Alemany’s Farmer’s Market on for their pulled pork sliders with spicy cole-slaw, so it was a added surprise that Dontaye and his awesome mom were in the house.

Unfortunately we couldn’t sample everything from the other vendors but Jaime assured me on Facebook that more events are coming so being a food lover and a Missionista by default, I’m excited.

Some dismiss the whole street/cart/truck food phenomena taking place in The City, LA and other cities as just another food fad and who knows, maybe it is but then again, who gives a culo de rata? I wish all fads tasted as great and were so much fun.

It’s what makes San Francisco and Mission district in particular such a great place. There is so much innovation and creativity going here whether it be in art or food and it’s awesome that all the street chefs know and help each other out. It’s reassuring to know that despite a crap economy, people here are trying out new ideas and new models that could spread and change the way we eat.

Jaime "Jam for the People" Maldonado from La Victoria

Dontaye Bell from GoodFoods and the Wild Child

Iso Rabins from ForageSF

CESAR CHAVEZ PARADE & FESTIVAL 2009

April 4, 2009
It was beautiful, warm Sunday in the Mission so the family and I took a stroll over to 24th Street to check out the Cesar Chavez Parade & Street Festival. We missed the parade but stopped in for the street festival. It was low-key event and there weren't that many booths, but there were awesome low riders and some Aztec dancers on hand. I only took a few photos, but you can check out the slideshow.



The highlight for us was a Salsa band that consisted of mostly teenage musicians and singers. They put on a spirited show which we enjoyed and you can hear a little of in this video.

"OBAMA ROCKS!" WITH CHALKS!

So today, Inauguration Day, my son and I were running errands here in the Mission when we ran across these kids, all on their own volition, writing "Obama Rocks!" with chalk on the sidewalk.

In all my life, I've never seen so many people so positively inspired by somebody. It's truly quite incredible. Like Harvey Milk said," Ya' gotta give em' hope..." and Barack Obama certainly does.

WHAT A NIGHT!...WAITING FOR THE EWOKS!

I went to class downtown last night and it was indeed hard to pay attention. I kept looking at the nytimes web site on my Blackberry. I couldn't believe that Obama won so early. Right before we returned from our break, CNN called the winner and we could all hear the horns and people screaming. I couldn't wait to leave.

As I walked to the BART station, my heart raced, my jaw ached, and my spine tingled. I felt like I was high on stimulants (not that I uh...have ever had any experience with that) I felt such emotion...positive feelings...and if you must know, I'm a pretty negative bastard. But FINALLY, FINALLY there was something to feel good about.

Not only are Cheney and Bush leaving the White House, but at last we have a leader that is well how should I say...some one who is an ACTUAL leader! Barack Obama is an intelligent, positive, and yes, a conservative thinker who has shown he can remain steady and serious in the face of adversity and criticism. He survived the old girl Hilliary and old man McCain along with his Bush campaign team. This swift victory was a mandate. A mandate that should tell all the Republicans that if they want to lead this country again, they ought to shit-can these cartoon character candidates who act like the folks "next door." If I want to borrow milk or sugar I will go to the folks next door but if I want some one to take charge of this country, then I want the best and the brightest. This country is facing its greatest economic downturn in over 70 years: I don't think a "breath of fresh air" is going to be able put out that burning house.

Yes I was excited last night. I stopped at the Napper Tandy pub on the way home and threw down two pints of Guinness. I didn't know anyone there and I didn't say much but I just drank, sank in the festive atmosphere while I was texting and calling friends. One drunk guy about my age stood next to me and slurred, "Do you really think this a historic moment..hah?". "Hell Yes!" I told him,"Most definately!" then I said, "I feel like the rebels just blew up the goddamned Deathstar and that I'm waiting for the fucking Ewoks and fireworks!"

He hiccupped and turned to his annoyed wife. "Did you just hear this guy?" he pointed to me and lurched forward, "he said the Ewoks....just blew up the...ahhh....Deathstar....ah....". He then left and stumbled off to the restroom.

I found a seat at the bar and watched young Mission hipsters dancing, kissing and laughing underneath the sounds of Abba's "Take A Chance On Me" blasting from the juke box; a muted Wolf Blitzer pointing to ridiculous graphs and charts on the mounted TVs. It was truly a surreal moment: I never thought I would enjoy listening to fucking Abba! But more importantly, I also thought how fucking awesome it was that America had decide to take its chance with Barack Obama. Let's go!!!


¡Sí se puede!

DIA DE LOS MUERTOS SF 2008

So tonight, the güero made it over to the Dia de los Muertos procession and altars. I'd say the crowd was about 20 percent Latino and the rest were gringo hipsters and other cultural curiosity seekers. I don't really mean that was a bad thing but that was just how I saw it. I went with my family and some neighbors and we had a fun time.

We tailed the procession from 24 and Bryant St.  for about 3 blocks and immediately hit the altars at Garfield Park, which was probably the more interesting than the procession itself. My camera isn't really geared for night shooting and I am no expert behind the lens - so I didn't get many shots - but you can click here for a slideshow of what I got.

MISSION HATE "RESPECT OURS..."

I often take my son to the skate park at the new Potrero Del Sol, formerly known as La Raza Park. But I guess some folks are not happy about the name change and just as well not to thrilled with the skate boarding facilities. Written rather largely, someone threw up graffiti on the skate ramp with "RESPECT OURS...LA RAZA PARK". A short while back, I read that some Mission residents don't dig on the skate park as they don't think it serves the needs of the Mission.

For my part, I have to disagree. Sure there are a lot of foul-mouthed, weed-smoking white boys from the Peninsula and across the Bay that hang out, and the ground is littered with ciggarette butts and beer cans. But also, I see a lot of local Latin and black kids from the Mission and Potrero Hill schredding it on their skate boards too; some never picking up a skateboard unitl the park opened last summer and now some of them are quite good.

As for the rest of park, I see kids and families of all races enjoying themselves in the play ground and there are always soccer balls being kicked around on the grass. On Sundays, you can hear the percussion of the bongo drums. It's not perfect park in any sense and my son has seen more "City Life" there than I would want him to at his age, but I remember it all to well when it was La Raza Park. I think it served the Mission for all of about five minutes before it quickly devolved into homeless vacation land. It was a toxic dump of piss, shit and dirty needles that was to be avoided at all costs unless being stabbed by cholos or a crackhead was your idea of an enjoyable cultural experience.

Army Street is now Cesar Chavez Street and La Raza Park is now Potrero Del Sol. Call them whatever you want to. We should all get over it already. Respect EVERYONE and let the kids have fun for chissakes.

SIDEWALKING: THE MISSION STENCILS

The graffiti stencils :anyone that has to walk the garbage strewn streets here in the Mission has probably seen them, or if not, they've seen photos in the local blogs or read about in yesterday's Chronicle. It's not really known who is doing them....I don't don't think it's lower income Latinos...they are busy working and taking care of their families, I don't think it's the homeless people, they are busy collecting cans and doing whatever else they do. So who is it? Political activists? Performance artists? People who hate their parents? I don't know but what's clear is that it is an ineffective attempt to solve the real problems in the Mission.

I think they should put their cardboard stencils and spraypaint cans away and do something more constructive for the neighborhood; for instance, pick up all the trash that sails downwind from Cesar Chavez Street. The amount of coffee cups, plastic bags and paper is incredible.

Do these sidewalkistas want to create some catchy and clever slogans they think will make the ordinary Mission resident rise up and fight against the evil doing gentrify-ers? Do they think we are going to "smoke 'em out" of their refurbished Victorian TICs? It's ridiculous. These are anonymous rebels fishing for a cause and they are as irrelevant as the stenciled statements they spraypaint.

THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE:SUSHI

Yes...it's coming and it's coming soon: sushi on 24th Street! And we're not talking about some swanky joint nestled in Noe Valley. Oh no, no, no....were talking about the corner of 24th and York Streets, the very heart of the Mission! (At least it's the heart of the Mission to me, because I live two blocks away for shits sake!) It's been known for some time as their permit sign has been hanging in the window, but the time is nigh!

A couple of weeks ago, I was waiting for my carnitas torta at La Torta Gorda (whose tortas are just awesome btw), when this aging hipster runs in (I mean this guy was OG, he's probably been living here since the mid 80s at least, back when the hipsters weren't hip at all: they were mostly leftist, intellectual types who wore wire rimmed glasses and tweed). So he's saying to anyone who would listen, "Can you believe it?...they're putting in a sushi bar next door?!! What is this? Noe Valley? Oh this is the end...the end!" He shook his bald head, rimmed with gray hair, in a dire state of disbelief; his wire rimmed glasses- steaming.

I told him that there was another one of these Sushi Bistros out in the Richmond and that I had looked it up on Yelp where it had pretty decent reviews. Obviously unimpressed, he just stared at me blankly, "but come on....sushi?!" and then finally he just muttered in defeat, "...well I guess it's unavoidable." Indeed. It's a slippery slope: after the arrival of vegan omelettes, the smell of spider rolls is never far behind. Oh the horror...the horror...

But...I like sushi. While living in Los Angeles, my wife and I, in better times, would try to go out for good sushi at least twice a month, sometimes more. We used to go to this great place on 2nd Street in Little Tokyo. We had our regular chef, who had Yakuza tattoos on his fingers and who always would get crazy-creative for us; masterfully pushing the envelope of intensly incredible flavors for us to experience. It was always worth the drive, the horrible parking and the aggressive homeless crack-heads. Hey that kind of sounds like...

I know that, to some, it might seem a little over the top to have a sushi restaurant here, I was somewhat surprised too...fearing the inevitable sandwich-like annexation from Noe Valley and Potrero Hill. But if Sushi Bistro opening up is truly the mark of apocalypse, then what better way to welcome in the end of days than by ejoying some toro, salmon skin, yellow tail, Spanish mackerel with sea salt, uni and then washing it all down with a cold bottle of Kirin or warm sake or soju? Oh the possibilities...and we won't even have to drive!

THE 48: FOUR "F*CKS" & A "F*GGOT" IN FIVE MINUTES

No, that title is not just an exercise in shameless alliteration, it's just another small dose of wretched reality aboard the 48 Quintara yesterday afternoon.

So the Güero is on Mission St, on his home way from running an errand when he(I)decide to get a library card at the Mission Branch Library. I try to glom a copy of Chuck Palahniuk's "Choke", but shit-on-a-stick...it's already been checked out and is already on hold. I check nextmuni.com on my beat-up Blackberry and it looks like I've got about two minutes before the 48 arrives. Cool!

I get to the bus and hop on after a latina mom and her young hijos with Happy-Meal Kung Fu pandas. The bus driver is a perky young black woman and greets everyone. But no sooner after I leave her presence, there are two passengers going at it...just verbally abusing each other from across the aisles. First the Old Pink Lady, she's white and as stated, old. She's wearing big glasses, faded pink cap and equally faded pink track suit. A big-ass tote bag sits on her lap and she's got one of those metal walking canes with the four prongs on the end. She's says to the other passenger,"...you should watch out for my cane!"

Now, the other passenger..he's quite a sight...and his companion? Where do I even begin?...Joel and Ethan Cohen could not have created such exaggerated characters. He's a big white guy in his his 50's wearing a 49er cap, wrap-around sunglasses and sporting a thick Mike Ditka mustache. He's got to be a tourist. His companion...she's the same age, maybe older. She looks like Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman...if Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman were dragged by a Ford pick-up truck for six blocks. Anyway, she's wearing this blood-red Strawberry Shortcake type hat, a patch skirt and these funky striped socks with open toe sandals. OK...you've got the picture. So he hollers back," I guess that's just typical of you FUCKING CITY PEOPLE!!!!" Oh no he DITN'T! Oh yes...he did.

The perky black bus driver chimes in politely, "Now. now. You two...that's enough...settle down!"

But it's too late, the old pink broad is REALLY pissed off, " So that's how it is, is it? Then why don't you just go the FUCK back to wherever the hell you came from. FUCKING Asshole!"

The driver pleads with them again. There are kids everywhere on the bus. Some people are laughing, including the neo-hippies, surprisingly, in the front who have kids. One of them, the infant, is sucking happily on his hippy mother's teet. Hey the Güero's got no problem with that, he's liberal minded.

So the man relents and mutters something to Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman. The old pink lady quietly pulls out and opens up a pulp romance novel that she probably bought at the Salvation Army for a quarter. Now, I have no idea what precipitated that vitriolic exchange but all seemed to be well again... until we got to South Van Ness.

Through the window, I see two SFPD beat cops talking to some punky latin teenager. The bus stops, the kid gets on board and says rather loudly, regarding one of officers,"FUCKING FAGGOT"!

The neo-hippies start laughing hysterically again. I'm thinking to myself...do people not have any qualms about cursing like a sailor in the presence of others, who you don't know. One thing the Güero has always said is, "know your audience!" Call me old school, but what happened to the days when people looked over their shoulder or whispered before offering up an offensive or racist comment. Now don't get me wrong I'm not condoning racism, or sexual orientation-ism. If you are offended however, that means I failed in trying to be cleverly ironic and satirical. For that, I apologize. If you understood and are still perturbed, then you are a humorless half-wit who should lighten up or go read someone else's posts. The question I ask, however, is why do people just talk out loud and say anything they feel like as if they are in their living room or mom's house? Has freedom of speech become an excuse for people to showcase their ignorance and hostility for ALL to experience?

My fellow neo-hippies passengers seemed to take it in stride but I didn't. Thankfully, the Güero was goin' solo and didn't have his son with him on this particular occasion but I would hate for him to have experience the careless and unrepentant ugliness on display. I'm not naive, I was born and raised in the Mission after all and I have witnessed more crude and horrendous acts committed by frightening youths aboard the 9 San Bruno. But why has that become ok?
Perhaps, I just expect too much as I have been living far too comfortably the quiet suburbs of San Diego.

These days, I'm not in the Mission by choice. It's more like the lesser of choices but I'm beginning think I may have, yet again, chosen the wrong path. I mean how I can raise my son in this place? All the wi-fi cafes, hip restaurants, and culture can't hide the all the litter that blows freely though the streets like tumbleweeds, nor do they belie the fact that the Mission is still a dangerous place where too many folks have no respect for themselves or one another.

But I'm tryin' hard Ringo, I'm trying real hard to come to terms with my environment, to find and focus on the things that make me feel hopeful about the human condition, my own personal situation and about my son growing up in the midst of urban cruelty and sidewalks that reek of urine. Until then, the Güero just has to suck it up and watch his back here in Tom Ammiano's Mission district...maybe I'll just go get a quesadilla suiza at El Farolito. Now that makes me happy!

-the Güero, 7/29/2008

"B" AS IN "DAVID"

Yesterday, my wife and I were at the Social Security Office on 22nd and Valencia getting replacement cards. While waiting, there was an Asian woman (Chinese, I think) working there who was calling off numbers for service tickets, similar to the system they now have at the DMV. She was calling off "B393...B393..". This old Mexican guy sitting next to me, shows me his ticket that's marked with D393 and asks me,"Did she say B or D?". I said I didn't know but that he should go up there anyway since no one else is. So he saunters up to the window and she took care of him. After that, she starts calling out "B"396....B as in David!" Am I going crazy?

Later, this other cat sits next to me and we joke about the woman's pronunciation skills. He was in his early thirties and looked like some sort of South American futbol-playing hipster( I really have to find new word for 'hipster'). He tells me his name is Hamid and that he's from Afghanistan and that he's been here in the US for six months. He said he worked for the UN and then the US Army. He said that just seven months ago he was in Kandahar riding in a group of cars when the car behind his was stopped by Al Queda/Taliban fighters. The Afghans passengers inside were taken out and shot while the Americans passengers were spared. Apparently, he said, the Taliban doesn't dig on sell-outs. After that, he told me he had been holed up in his apartment for weeks while receiving death threats.

Luckily, he had a visa that he acquired while he was an engaged to an American women. She jilted him in the mean time and married some one else, but the visa was still valid and that's all that was important, so he hopped a plane and made his way to the US. He told me he has lots of uncles here in the Bay Area but that they were all assholes so he's been managing on his own, working under the table and burning through his savings account. Recently, he was offered a computer engineering job and so he needed to get a tax ID at the social security office. His visa was running out but he'd applied for political asylum because he most certainly will be killed if he returns to Afghanistan.

I felt for Hamid because I had watched a segment on "60 Minutes" about how all these Iraqis who worked for the Americans were being killed, but were not granted asylum because of some fucked-up vetting process. As if risking their lives, as well as their families', for America hasn't been enough to grant these people some safety.

Anyway, you really meet some interesting people down at the Social Security office.

NY TIMES' VALENCIA ST HIPSTER HANG OUTS...

The New York Times ran an article this past weekend in the travel section about some select restaurants, bars and shops on Valencia Street. I'm no expert, being that I'm past the the hipster age and don't have access to discretionary, hipster money but those in the know think this article was phoned in few years ago and is just plain outdated.

SAN FRANCISCO NUTTERS

So I was checking out the local blog, Mission Mission, one of few blogs that covers the Mission District here in SF, when I ran across a post about this insane Bible thumper who I actually had the misfortune of meeting last summer on Muni. The comments following the post indicate that he is quite prolific, annoying and disturbing everyone in his path.

Last summer, I was on the 48 with my 7 year old son coming home from West Portal. When we arrived at 24th and Mission St, this raving lunatic steps on the bus yelling at the top of his lungs "Ban the Koran! Ban the Buddha! You better read the Bible! Ban that Abortion" etc, etc. Well he sat down and didn't stop and then....well...you can read my comments at the end of the post here.

SAN FRANCISCO CARNAVAL 2008

Over the past weekend, I was up in The City for my sister's wedding, which was great. Congratulations to them. It was a nice, simple wedding with close family and friends at a beautiful setting. They had it at the Carnelian Room atop the former Bank Of America Building. I managed to take a few nice shots that I will post later.

On Sunday morning I walked up the street from my parents' house to check out the parade for Carnaval 2008. There was a festival as well on Saturday and though it was large, the weather was the shits and there wasn't much of a crowd. The parade however, was different altogether. There wasn't much time because I had to get the airport but here is a slide show of what I managed to capture and as a bonus, I've included a short video. Enjoy...

FAITHLESS...

Last Sunday, while I was in the old neighborhood, my son and I walked up to Mission Street to go to the bank. On the way, we stopped by my old Parish, St. Peter's. I took a few photos of my old school and gave my son a brief tour of the place where his old man learned to read, write, count and respect authority... well I know that last one is somewhat debatable.

The 10:30 mass was just beginning when we stopped at the church. While standing in the rear of the church, I took two photos. The choir was singing and my son was tugging on my arm to get outof there. The whole scene scared him as I have kept religion out of his life so he isn't accustomed to church or anything like that. As he we walked out, he said, "Daddy...what is all that? What are they doing in church? I don't get it." All I could tell him was that I didn't get it either and that's why I stopped going a long time ago.