The friendly waiter placed a steaming cup of coffee down in front of me. The cup read “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.” I smiled as I sipped the strong stuff, it was 75 degrees outside and I had shorts on, a rarity in San Francisco. We were seated on metal stools at the bar, an eclectic magnet collection stuck on the oven hood above us and shouted greetings from all of over the world; Turkey, Singapore, Honolulu, Nevada. . . Just the right amount of quirky. Real quirky not annoying quirky. Citizen’s Band also has a postcard wall, the antique glass door fridge in the back, enormous collection of vintage radios (on par with Double Dutch in the Mission), and huge front windows that illuminate the corner restaurant with warm sunlight.
It was that magical hour when breakfast and lunch merge into that lovely thing called brunch. San Franciscans are generally friendly, easy going people but do not get in the way of their brunching. Seriously, its like the lube that oils the San Francisco machine. I’m a brunch fan, especially with good company and an open afternoon. Saturday was one of those days. We ordered some bloody marys and glanced over the menu. The left side read “Eggs, bacon, pastries, trash, bars, drugs – It’s just brunch on Folsom St.” We ordered the benedict and the burger. There is nothing better than good poached eggs (well, maybe kimchi) and this benny did not disappoint. Washed down with the spicy, fresh horseradish and pickle juice Bloody Mary and I was smitten. The burger was on point too.
On our way out, we stopped at Pinkie’s Bakery, which shares a wall and an owner with Citizen’s Band. They know how to do doughnuts. We grabbed a few of the round guys and headed to yoga. Let the side ache begin.