San Francisco, Act 3

Jill's Journal: Any idea why this man is dressed like a pirate spray painted in gold and standing on a bucket? Anyone? No? Me either. Believe it or not, we saw two gold guys and one silver guy today, plus a multitude of other street performers. The girls especially like the musicians. Madelyn will start dancing at the drop of a hat, while Erika is more intrigued by the process of what they’re doing. Victoria? She just likes to take it all in.

It was full day #3 for us in the heart of San Francisco. We started with a tour at the Boudin Sourdough Bakery at Fisherman’s Wharf.

Boudin is San Francisco’s oldest continuously-running company and for good reason: the bread is divine. Simply DIVINE. When gold was discovered near San Francisco, the Gold Rush quickly swelled the population from under 1,000 to over 20,000. It was at that time (1849) that Boudin started as an old-world French bakery, one of more than 60 bakeries serving the suddenly swollen population.

But Boudin was different than the others. Their traditional French bread had a distinctively tangy taste due to the way the wild yeasts and lactobacillus cultures in the leavening reacted to the foggy San Francisco climate. Viola, a new and enticing bread was born: “San Francisco Sourdough French Bread.” (As Erika was excited to learn, sourdough has been around since ancient Egyptian times, but the San Francisco variety is both the most “sour” and the most popular type in the U.S. today). Anyone who bakes knows sourdough bread is unique in that it needs a “starter,” or a portion of previous dough which provides the natural yeast for leavening the next batch. The wild yeast/lactobacillus in this “mother dough” has a strain of bacteria similar to what is found in other fermented products like wine, cheese, and yogurt. It’s “alive” and must be regularly fed flour and water to keep it happy.

Visitors can watch the baking process from beginning to end. And the smell? Oh, that ambrosial smell.

Boudin’s mother dough today has been fed continuously since its beginnings 162 years ago. A small portion is shown here on display. Each loaf of bread uses a bit of the original. In addition, in spite of today’s widespread use of preservatives, sugars, fats, dough conditioners, etc., Boudin remains 100% true to its original recipe of only flour, water, salt, and the mother dough. The result? Heaven on a plate.

My two favorite pieces of Boudin trivia: The company used to hand-deliver its bread all over San Francisco in the early-morning hours, just like milk used to be delivered to individual homes. Houses had nails on their front doors so the delivery men could quickly hang loaves on their route. And (trivia piece #2), in 1906, as San Francisco was collapsing around them in the massive earthquake, a member of the Boudin family had the presence of mind to scoop up the mother dough in a bucket as they fled the crumbling walls. Boudin as we know it would not be in business today without that calm response in the eye of the storm.

After our bakery tour, we had the San Francisco staple of Boudin sourdough bread bowls filled with clam chowder. What a marvelous combination. The bread is perfection. The clam chowder is very nice as well. And yes, I know this is going to offend several of our loved ones, but with apologies to all the fans of California’s “New England” clam chowder – it’s just not as wonderful as what is found in the East. We’ve tried it at all the Central California places that are supposed to be the best at recreating the New England varieties (Pismo Beach’s Splash Café, Half Moon Bay’s Sam’s Chowder House, Boudin Bakery, and more). And while they are all very, very good, not a one of them is the mouth-watering, delectable “chowdah” that warms you from the inside out and literally melts in your mouth. There’s a reason it’s called “New England Clam Chowder.” And that’s okay! There’s also a reason it’s called “San Francisco Sourdough” – that can’t be recreated anywhere else either. We just feel incredibly lucky and so blessed to be able to try these authentic dishes in the places where they’re done best.

The girls got little individual sourdough loaves shaped like turtles. Happiness!

Other than sourdough, what else comes to mind about San Francisco? Surely cable cars would be up there. We’ve relentlessly been trying to get the girls on a cable car, but the crowds and lines are crazy. We’ve even looked at hopping on at one of the intermediary stops, but there’s always small crowds even there and it would be impossible to find space for five of us. We finally stopped by the Cable Car Museum (shown above with a cable car going by) in an effort to at least learn a little about them.

Amazingly, this is the machinery that runs every single cable car in San Francisco. Cable cars are towed along tracks in the streets by a moving cable and have no motor or power of their own. San Francisco has the only operating cable car system in the world.

This is the only surviving cable car from the original 1873 fleet.

Levi Strauss is another San Francisco institution and we also stopped briefly by the Levi Strauss “vault.” A German immigrant, Mr. Strauss had one of the most prosperous dry goods businesses in the west. A Reno tailor named Jacob Davis bought fabric from Strauss and made trousers that used copper rivets for extra strength. They were such a hit that Davis decided to patent his invention. Strauss provided the financial backing and the name. In 1873, the patent for riveted clothing came through. The rest is history.

The girls favorite thing about Levi’s Plaza? Undoubtedly the fountain they could run through.

On our way home, we took a beautiful drive through the Presidio, which is located on the northern tip of the San Francisco peninsula. In 1994, it ended 218 years of military service for three nations – first for Spain, then Mexico, and finally the U.S. It’s now a wonderful park, residential area, and national historical landmark. The national cemetery on the Presidio grounds overlooks the Golden Gate Bridge.

Fort Funston was an unexpected stop on the way home. We kept seeing hang gliders in the air and decided to stop. It turns out the 200-feet sand dunes overlooking the ocean and the strong ocean “breeze” (I’d call it more of a vicious wind!) make it one of the nation’s best hang-gliding spots. These guys make it look effortless.

After the kids were safely tucked in bed, a former junior high school friend of Rob’s stopped by for a visit. Stacy is a traveler herself – five continents and counting! – and a complete delight. It was a lovely end to a very, very busy day.