The Alembic.

Whenever I get excited to eat at a place, I forget to take photos. I mean, the camera is there...right there! But, good food is like kryptonite to a fat girl and I was definitely paralyzed by the ambiance of this joint.

"You know you love food when there's only 5 items on the menu, and you can't decide what you want."

I started with a drink called The Poop Deck. A drink that blends cognac, port wine, and blackberry brandy. Then, chucked into a vintage-esque booze shaker until the vintage-esque barkeep's arm is about to fall off. It was good. Really good. Sweet, savory and pucker-y.

We stared at the menu for a good length of time until we opted for the California Camelia cheese as a starter, very VERY similar to Camembert. An outside edible rhine, with a creamy and gooey center and a strong earthy flavor with a delicate salty taste, marcona almonds, on top of some fantastic bread that had walnuts in it.

Crispy pork belly with braised romaine lettuce, the smallest chanterelles in the world that were pickled, a creamy potato puree and black garlic jus reduction. It was my first hipster meal...and I liked it, no, loved it. The pork belly completely reminded me of the pig my nana makes on a spit, slowly roasted outdoors for big celebrations, the fat splattering onto the charcoals down below. The outside potato chip crispy and a perfectly fork tender and moist fatty flesh underneath. Hot damn! That pork belly turned me savage. And who knew braised lettuce could taste...good? A mild green taste with a satisfying crunch.

Thin women spend their time fantasizing about their new issue of Vogue, envisioning themselves in the size 0 runway dress that no one should wear on the street. Some spend their whole checks on Blahnik's and other designers I can't pronounce the names of. And that's fine. However, for me...food magazines are my fashion magazines. I spend time reading them and fantasizing about all the hip new restaurants that I'll never get to try because I'm an unemployed culinary student/bum. Alembic was the first restaurant that I read about in several different magazines and walked by several times, looking in from the sidewalk at all the people eating away. Those bastards. Last night was finally my time to shine, I basked in the ambiance (and they've got great ambiance, albeit loud up in this mofo), and paid a hefty price.

Literally, a hefty price.

Oh, but it was so worth it.

1725 Haight St
San Francisco, CA 94117
(415) 666-0822

MUNI: 71, 7, 33