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Posts Tagged ‘San Francisco’

About a year ago, a friend spontaneously dropped by with goodies from the adorable bakery Miette Confiserie.  Although I have never been to Miette or Confectionary Row for that matter, I know that it is my kind of bakery after admiring its gorgeous web site and photos for hours.  Yes, it is the kind that would make guys squirm at all the pinkness and frills, but I admire that it also takes great care in its packaging after all, it did enclose a lovely postcard and sealed each box with a colorful Miette sticker.  I am a total sucker for all things packaged adorably :P

Among the distinctly French confections my friend bought, there was a single cupcake, which happened to be their very popular gingerbread cupcake.  Unaware of this at the time, I nibbled away at it, thinking that this was a pumpkin or other spiced cupcake.  Of course, when I found out, I was mortified.  The first time I had true gingerbread, I did not do it justice by mindlessly eating away at it.  Now, I still don’t know what it tastes like!

Fast forward a year later, I was armed with multiple gingerbread recipes–the Gramercy Tavern Stout Gingerbread, Claire Clark’s, Tartine’s, and Emily Luchetti’s.  While I originally had the Stout Gingerbread in mind, my brother or his friend drank the stout I had been saving for that.  (Evil!  I deliberately bought it as extra stout, so they would not be tempted to drink it since it would not be a tasty beer!  Wait, is “tasty beer” an oxymoron?)  That left Claire Clark, Tartine’s, or Emily Luchetti’s.  Because I was pretty sure that all of the recipes would do gingerbread justice, I let my friend who brought the Miette goodies pick.

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It is rare for San Francisco to get hot and sticky, but it does, especially during late summer.  When that happens, the locals begin to fidget, and I begin to fidget, as this restless energy spreads.  I remember this especially well since on one of those days, I was in the corner of a tiny ice cream shop called Bi-Rite Creamery with other uncomfortably sticky locals.

Normally, this is the worst place for me to be because I am slightly agoraphobic.  (Arms length personal space, please!)  However, while I was eating that ice cream, I felt alone in my space, savoring each bite of ice cream.  No, it did not faze me that I was next to the trash can and had to constantly shift, so people could shoot their ice cream cups into the trash.  It also did not faze me that behind me was a group of loud, giggly girls.  I was alone and happy.

Fast forward six months later, and I find myself feeling trapped once again.  Thanks to the fact I have no car to drive, I am starting this new year in quasi-house arrest.  Instead of dwelling on this semi-imprisonment, I focused on recreating happier times.

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