potrerohill

2006-01-20T10:56:00.000-08:00

People from Bernal Heights are a bunch of Pussies.

Found in Today's sfgate.com:

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/gate/archive/2006/01/20/carollloyd.DTL

"Recently, I walked into my neighborhood video store and overheard one of the clerks complaining about the clientele at their sister store located in an ever-so-slightly more upscale neighborhood about a mile away.

"They're just different there," he whispered. The customers had stopped their shopping and were riveted. "I don't know why. They're not ... nice. Sometimes at the end of my shift, I just want to sit down and cry."

The customers nodded their heads sympathetically. A conversation ensued about how our neighborhood was different, nicer, more community-minded."

Yes, fellow Potrero Hillian, shame, shame on you for making our poor, sensative video store clerks cry. I mean, what do you do, tell them that their mother is ugly? Call them short? Whatever it is, you better quit it, becuase just you watch out, we won't have any video store clerks left, and then what will you do on your evenings? I just can't be without the latest Hollywood crap.

2003-09-30T23:13:00.000-07:00

What's With 22nd Street?

Ah, the 22nd street Caltrain Station. Your local gateway to the Peninsula. Your first stop on your commute to your cube 60 mile away. Your multi-modal transportation hub to the Bay and beyond. You would think that such a gem in our community would be an oasis... a transportation utopia within walking distance to your Potrero Hill home. But no, it's a hole. A hole under a freeway.

And like any hole under a freeway, all the trash, discarded food, poop, etc. all seems to accumulate there.

The southbound entry to 22nd street has a nice semi-kept grassy area that has become a favorite walking spot for all the dog owners in the new lofts. Nothing gets my morning going better than the sweet smell of organic matter. The northbound stairs are certainly a death trap.

I pause before I ascend each afternoon, and pray to my deity du jour that I won't plunge 20 feet to the dirt below because of a rickety step. Actually, it's not that scary. What is scary is the layered bird crap that collects on the stairs

(the outer of the 2 stairs are the worse... always walk on the inner ones!). When you get to the top of the stairs, there is a trashcan that accumulates the most interesting flotsam and jetsam of the homeless lifestyle around it.

Needles, sure, I can expect that.

But once I saw a black plastic bag with a red substance coming out of it. From my shoes to my bathroom....

What's interesting is that King Street station is so beautiful. Funded by the best mob money Baseball has to offer, the King Street station is a gleaming example of how great life can be on a train. And even to the south, Bayshore station is getting a multi-million dollar overhaul. They are going to have an elevator. An elevator! At Bayshore!

But the very best contrast is with my destination, the VTA light rail station in Sunnyvale.

See that? They are actually polishing the steal. Every week they are there cleaning the already spotless station.

When is the last time you think 22nd got a high-pressure wash? I doubt ever. Its Caltrain's diry little secret.

Bitch Here.
Send them links to this post, or take your own photos and send them to us to post.

2003-09-10T23:03:00.000-07:00

The Invasion Begins.

Potrero Hill. It sits like an armed fortress above the city, immune to attacks from the forces of Corporate America. The vast swaths of industrial wasteland that surrounds us acts as walls to keep brightly-colored named brands off of our quaint streets. But the battle against the franchises is about to take a terrifying new turn. The corporate raiders have plotted their invasion, and the first strike is coming right up Kansas street. Yes, it seems that our 3-to-1, person-to-gruppa ratio, and that crazy guy who loiters in the middle of 17th street are not enough to keep Starbucks away.

While approaching the design center last week, I let out a long movie-slow-motion “Noooooooooooooooo!” when I saw the green sign that now graces the otherwise vacant office building.

(Which, by the way, destroyed Potrero Hill’s beloved paper recycling transfer station. How I missed that old-world, smelly half-decayed warehouse. Like the Paint Factory, a small part of soul was torn down along with those PCB infested treasures.)

I ask, who will forgo the one-milk-one-cup simplicity of Farley’s, the cute tank top clad girls of Chatz, the.. um, well, uh..lessee.. the Dog at Thinkers... for their damn Frap? People we don’t want, that’s who. Go back to Millbrae, you Starbucks losers.

2003-09-10T22:44:00.000-07:00

Restaurant Review: A Cote

VS.

Okay, now, I am sure you are wondering, why is the first restaurant review of potrerohill.blogspot.com of a restaurant in Oakland? Well, because I found it to be a wonderful alternative to our very own uberhip-dining establishment, Baraka. Now, let me preface all of this by saying, I love Chez Papa. I love Chez Maman. And hey, I love the French in general, their wine, their cheese, the way they irk conservatives, just so you know where I am coming from.

But after giving Baraka several tries and a few hundred dollars, I feel that it will suffer the same fate as every other restaurant that has inhabited the northwest corner of 18th and Connecticut for the last 5 years. Now, Baraka is not horrible, but I don't think it will be immune to that particular Curse. A Cote succeeds wildly in the areas where Baraka slips up. Like with portions. Yeah, I know, its tapas, the portions are supposed to be small. But when you pay 12 bucks for a tiny white buttery thing full of bones at Baraka, I don't know, it just leaves much to be desired. The portions at A Cote rock. Take the mussels. So many, our party of 4 could not finish an order. And they were damn good, they put Pernod (anise liqueur) in the broth. The Pomme Frites at A Cote is a heaping, I mean a Heaping portion, freshly fried. I swear, the cost-per-fry-ratio at A Cote is a better value than McDonald's.

When at Baraka, portions tend to come in threes. Like, three shrimp to an order. While dining with my party of 4, we were negotiating the portions. "Okay, you can get the shrimp, but I get the last falafel." Cutting a shrimp in half to share is definitely not cool. The one thing I could not get over at Baraka is that here you have all these incredible sauces, yet they give you such a minimal amount of bread. Ask for more, and they might give you another saucer full. Not at A Cote. Ask for more bread... a whole new half of a baguette comes your way. At A Cote, we asked about which of the cheeses are the best, and our waitress happily spent about 5 minutes detailing all 6 varieties. And we understood every word she said.

Okay, that was a cheap shot at Baraka, I'm sorry. Remember, I *heart * the French. Lets end this before I put myself and my family at risk. A Cote has a cocktail list that is more pretentious than any I have seen in San Francisco, a big plus in my book. They had a fig flavored cocktail that was completely unique an tasty. I have also enjoyed many of their fine varieties of Belgian ale. They even left 3 chairs vacant while a small line gathered at the door just so we could stay comfortable.

A Cote, 5478 College, Oakland CA; Tel. 510.655.6469. No reservations accepted.

2003-09-02T23:03:00.000-07:00

Potrero Hill’s Nemesis.

Every great institution has its nemesis. NPR has its PRI. The Catholic Church has its Trial Lawyers. Simpson’s has its Family Guy. And yes, Potrero Hill has its nemesis. And it is the name that mustn’t be spoken, so I will whisper it instead (psssst... Bernal Heights).

Bernal Heights: Families! strollers! Baby toys in the cafes!
Potrero Hill: Pleasantly stoned teens in Dr. Video.

Potrero Hill: Keepin’ it real with the Southside playas.
Bernal Heights: Idea of urban vibe is Bayshore Blvd.

Potrero Hill: Good Life’s like a Humboldt co-op.
Bernal Heights: Good Life’s like a Cala.

Bernal Heights: Quaint narrow streets.
Potrero Hill: Quaint parking.

Bernal Heights: You can get a decent house for 500k.
Potrero Hill: Home Ownership is overrated.

Bernal Heights: Tom Ammiano lives here!
Potrero Hill: Tom Ammiano doesn’t live here!