When I arrived in San Francisco last Sunday for the first time ever, it was raining. Pissing. Pouring. Buckets. Cats and dogs. (But not men.)
But not this intrepid traveller.
Knowing I was only in the city for a few days and that most of my time would be spent at a conference, I grabbed a sturdy spring-loaded umbrella from the concierge and hoofed it down the infamously steep Nob Hill, and then a few blocks over, towards America’s largest Chinatown.
It didn’t take me long to decide where to eat. The decision was pretty much thrust upon me when a homeless man started coming at me in slo-mo kung fu moves. So instead of engaging in a Tarantino-style street battle in the pouring rain in the middle of America’s largest Chinatown, I turned down a side street and entered the bright and busy Washington Bakery and Restaurant.
Aside from the moon cakes and sugared donuts and cream puffs, bowls of congee, dumplings and noodle soups appeared to be the restaurant specialty.
I ordered the roasted duck and dumplings soup, all of which came tucked into a nest of thin golden egg noodles, lapped with a mellow broth.
Good, warming fuel to get me back up Nob Hill. Hopefully, without encountering any more kung fu challenges.