Last Friday I finally got around to turning 20. It’s about time, isn’t it? To celebrate, I went into San Francisco with a (gorgeous) friend at UC Berkeley and my (gorgeous) boyfriend. We spent the morning in the (gorgeous) botanical gardens of Golden Gate Park, then explored the (gorgeous) King Tut exhibit at the de Young (wish I could have taken pictures there! ).
The afternoon was cold and full of rain, but evening was cozy and full of delicious smells inside my favorite restaurant, the Millennium on Geary Street. The winter menu boasts an array of richer, heartier fare than the menu of summer. Our trio had caribbean tempeh, polenta nera cake, and yuba roulade with desserts of “death by chocolate and peanut butter” and meyer lemon pound cake.
Though the dishes were tasty and interesting, and my friend Gaby loved the daily bread with white bean-thyme spread, I was a bit underwhelmed. Dining at the Millennium is a pricey but special treat that always makes me feel I’ve spent my money well, yet only about half the time am I truly stunned rigid with amazement at the food’s spectacular deliciousness. And the other times it’s merely great.
I asked for a candle in my little cake, because I wanted to have my birthday wish. But when I blew out the flame, what did I wish for? Nothing. Maybe that’s the problem with me. Or maybe I didn’t want to dawdle and think of wishes while facing a lemon cake topped with candied kumquats and raspberry sorbet.