It's funny. We spent three days in San Francisco this summer and I had a really good time.
On the last night we ate at a vegan Mexican place in the Mission. It was at the end of a long day where we rented a car, walked the Golden Gate Bridge, visited Muir Woods, Stinson Beach, and drove back to the city on the 101 along the coast. It was around 7 when we got back to town and we were hungry.
Parking was tough on Mission Street, and the neighborhood seemed to change block by block, but eventually we found a place not too too far from the restaurant. Of course there was a wait, and the light had faded from pink to dark purple before we ushered to one end of a communal table. By then, all I wanted was a cold beer, and I ordered an IPA from a brewery with lavender in its name.
Well... that's what I thought, but when I tasted the beer there was an herby floral note that at first I couldn't place. Eventually the obvious penetrated my fatigued brain and I realized I was drinking a lavender IPA. As I was tired and driving, I stopped at one pint, but the essence of it lingered in my mind and on my palate.
Since I've been home, I have regularly infused my favorite west coast ale with fresh lavender, and every sip reminds me of those three days, and every time the memories of that whole trip get a little sweeter.
On the last night we ate at a vegan Mexican place in the Mission. It was at the end of a long day where we rented a car, walked the Golden Gate Bridge, visited Muir Woods, Stinson Beach, and drove back to the city on the 101 along the coast. It was around 7 when we got back to town and we were hungry.
Parking was tough on Mission Street, and the neighborhood seemed to change block by block, but eventually we found a place not too too far from the restaurant. Of course there was a wait, and the light had faded from pink to dark purple before we ushered to one end of a communal table. By then, all I wanted was a cold beer, and I ordered an IPA from a brewery with lavender in its name.
Well... that's what I thought, but when I tasted the beer there was an herby floral note that at first I couldn't place. Eventually the obvious penetrated my fatigued brain and I realized I was drinking a lavender IPA. As I was tired and driving, I stopped at one pint, but the essence of it lingered in my mind and on my palate.
Since I've been home, I have regularly infused my favorite west coast ale with fresh lavender, and every sip reminds me of those three days, and every time the memories of that whole trip get a little sweeter.
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