Hey, I'm Dutch!

It’s a gorgeous, sunny day in San Francisco and P and I are about to partake in one of the greatest of American traditions…Sunday Brunch. Brunch is what happens when it is too late to be properly called breakfast, yet too early to really be lunch. On Sunday, it means Mom and Dad get to sleep in a bit later, Oma can go to early morning church services, and friends can recover from a wild Saturday evening. In the busy world we live in, it means a shared meal together with loved ones to talk and laugh and begin their week together. Back when I was Stateside, it was my favorite part of the week to have my li’l sis and friends come over every Sunday for something like a roasted vegetable fritatta, strawberry cream cheese stuffed french toast, and fresh fruit with a honey-lemon mascarpone drizzle. Mmmmmm.

This beautiful morning P and I are at Zazie (941 Cole St, San Francisco). My good friend J recommended it to us and judging by the line waiting outside, it was every bit as popular as J said it would be. P found it quite strange for so many people to stand around waiting for a restaurant, but Americans know tresured neighborhood gems like Zazie are worth the wait. The waiting list hanging on the side of the entrance might scare some people away, but it moves quickly and this many people up at 11:00 a.m. can’t possibly all be wrong. The cheerful and friendly host, Mario, comes out and welcomes each guest as a table opens up. If you can wait for it, the patio really is the best way to go. Friendly and quick service complement the wondeful menu. I start off with a mango mimosa. P laughs at having champagne so early in the day, but I’m on holiday, right? Poached eggs are Zazie’s specialty so I order mine over English muffins with white cheddar cheese, bacon, and salsa fresca. They top it off with their special light, lemon hollandaise sauce and serve it with their nicely spiced and wonderfully roasted garlic-heavy home fries. Now this is already more than I should order, but I can’t resist trying their gingerbread pancakes with lemon custard and crisp bosch pears. P goes for scrambled eggs with salmon and green onions, and though he claims this will be too much, I notice he helps me finish off the other half of my pancake.

Sinfully stuffed, P and I set off to explore the city. On our way out we bump into my brother S and his wife M as they happily wait for their table at Zazie. Guess they heard good things too.