Depending on your perspective, the abundance of secret hipster hangouts is part of San Francisco's charm or yet another sign of its exclusionary cooler-than-thouitude. Having taken a route through one of the city's few working class black neighborhoods to reach Kitchenette, the lunch counter housed in a Dogpatch loading dock, I was acutely aware of the spectacle of BMWs pulling up to disgorge well-dressed white inhabitants set to grab expensive sandwiches at this spot one generally learns about through one's social network. The only black customer I saw wore a shirt and tie and drove an Audi, and I wondered if he'd ever visited the neighborhood just a few blocks away. The fact that this "spontaneous organic cover nourishment" is located itself in a seriously transitional district is probably the only reason most patrons ever visit the Dogpatch. They come for the city's obsession: food. Vegetarian dining can be deathly dull, but Kitchenette's Friday fare was one of the most imaginative sandwiches I've had in a while, an intriguing mix of "slow-cooked cauliflower, broccoli, and pecorino cheese" provided the savory contrast with sharp hits of olive and sweet bits of pepper, all presented on a crusty baguette. Non-veggies could be treated to Marin pastrami. Desserts are small but refreshingly cheap and might include an organic brownie which tasted like it was made with Vahlrona chocolate. Kitchenette serves a limited daily menu weekdays from 11:30 until it runs out of food or 1:30, whichever comes first.
Kitchenette's industrial 'bench in the parking lot' ambiance couldn't have been more in contrast with another common Bay Area destination, the upscale outdoor mall, although both are surrounded by fancy cars. Thursday saw me tackling one of my favorite local specialties, the Mission-style burrito. Sadly I was not in the Mission at the time, and all foreign burritos must be viewed with a certain amount of suspicion, especially if they're being served in a place like Town and Country center in Palo Alto. Lulu's Taqueria, which also operates a successful Menlo Park branch, maintains a small storefront there. Trying to find something to fill my stomach and warm my hands before what promised to be a brisk evening of soccer, I took a gamble on that all-time great, the chile relleno burrito. I really wanted a chimichanga but normally those only have chicken in them, and what better way to test the place than to choose a burrito I know well? Lulu's does your initial prep in the back kitchen, then adds toppings at the counter, which means I didn't get to see the relleno being produced, heated or sauced. They also broke the rules of wrapping, with a flimsy inner coat of paper and a poorly constructed layer of foil, both of which came apart almost immediately, as if they expected patrons to eat their burritos with a fork (for shame!). That said, my first cranky impression that I'd paid ten plus dollars for a terrible burrito was unfounded. I'd paid ten plus dollars for an inferior burrito to my local version, with much less robust and flavorful beans and rice, too much cilantro, and an undercooked chile, as well as no sour cream to speak of, but since my local version is the city's best the bar is high. It was a perfectly adequate quick dinner, but since only South Bay denizens would refer to Lulu's as reasonably priced, it didn't give great value for the money. I'm not writing the taqueria off yet until I try the chimichangas, which do in fact come in a cheese version, but thus far for quick, cheap meals it's not the best local bet.
