I love burritos or anything burrito-like, but sadly, my outrageous obsession has led me down the path of Mexican-palette overload. Naturally, when I came to the realization that shawarmas are the Lebanese equivalent to a burrito, I started to maniacally pursue this new tasty phenomenon. I've now done my share of sampling the SF goods but nothing compares to


for: fresh, original choices beautifully plated and layered in flavor, with a solid wine list to match. Things can feel romantic and personal at a table for two—it's great for a night with your main squeeze. I tend to inhale my food, but at Millennium, the flavors unfold resplendently in my mouth and I savor every bite.


San Franciscan's love their brunch, and I'm no exception. I love it even more when it involves $10 bottomless mimosas, Yahtzee, an outdoor patio, and is within stumbling distance of my apartment. The Sycamore might be the new kid on the Mission Street block, but it has quickly become the living room I knew I always wanted but couldn't afford. With an assortment of board games and drool worthy sliders

ALI BABA'S CAVE 799 Valencia Street • San Francisco
MILLENIUM 580 Geary Street • San Francisco
THE SYCAMORE 2140 Mission Street • San Francisco
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The geography of ingredients that grace the menus of our fair city's restaurants read more like a map of dairies and farms than that of a food menu. There is now a responsibility on the part of the Chef to validate his ingredients; their pedigree and radius from the restaurant seem suddenly as important as their taste. Now, I am not saying this is bad for food, or us, or dining in general, but is it done for flavor, or for fashion?

Restaurants have become beholden to the snobbery of their guests, or in some cases, their ignorance. People are suddenly less willing to eat something that may not be from a nearby farm. If a beet is not organic, it is stricken from the list. The hypocrisy of diners runs deep, though I don't suggest it is necessarily done with ill will, but rather the nervous energy of a youngster that doesn't know better.

There was a time when people discussed things over dinner like politics, relationships, music, and the simple pleasure of things tasty is no longer enough. Now the discussion of what we are eating is most important, every morsel dissected, looking for faults. Diners are more anxious than ever to fill their bellies with food that has a legitimate pedigree.

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