Father's Day Breakfast Vacation

Living in San Francisco for that brief time (not quite two years) opened my eyes to eating and cooking food in a totally different way from anything I had experienced before. Maybe it wasn't just the west coast difference, though to be sure, the farmers market situation out there is year round and abundant. Maybe it had more to do with the city vs. suburb living that I grew up in and currently inhabit. I know plenty of people out here that are just as into food as I am - it's one of the reasons I love living here. And slowly, slowly, small, locally owned restaurants are replacing the chains you see up and down the strip mall highways. It's progress, and I like it.

But still, in the five years we've been back, I have yet to come close to the experience Nick and I had eating a plate of chiliquilles while sitting on a curb on a cold crisp San Francisco Saturday morning at the farmers market at the Ferry building. We stood in a long line to get our food. We didn't even know what it was we were ordering at first, but we knew if the line was that long it must be good. And it really was. A bed of crispy, salty tortilla chips coated in a smokey red sauce piled high with light, fluffy, buttery scrambled eggs and topped off with a dollop of cool sour cream, shredded cheese, and more salsa.

So on Father's Day this year, it wasn't French toast or pancakes, it was Chiliquilles, San Francisco style, that he requested. A mini vacation on a plate. So good, you will be searching for a flight out west after just a few bites. And if you do find yourself in San Francisco on a Saturday morning, search out the food stall frying up a huge batch of tortilla chips out behind the Ferry building. But get there early, they always sell out.