WANDERING THE STREETS OF SAN FRANCISCO, #2 (Cheri)

I started reading the cookbook Mi Cocina, in which author Rick Martinez says that he could happily meander the neighborhoods of Mexico City in nine-hour stretches, which reminded me that I never posted the last of our San Francisco curiosities.

Mark saw this on the street.  I saw a more attractive plaque in the same series, but didn't have my camera with me at the time.

It turns out that Tina Modotti led a very interesting life, as an silent-movie actress, model, photographer, documentary-maker, lover of Edward Weston and several Communist Party leaders, and Communist activist in her own right.  (More here.)

Mark also found this plaque, honoring an inventor of television:

One person who is intrigued notes that there are more than 200 plaques in San Francisco, though the numbering on his list suggests that there may be more than 1,000.  Now I want to search them all down!

Truthfully there's not a lot of interest in this picture, but I was taken by the name of the street, which was also the Wordle solution a couple of days ago.  (Dictionary.com calls it a "nonstandard spelling" for the word "fellow.")

I do miss the little markets on so many corners of the City.  This one is close to a market that was owned by the aunt and uncle of my roommate when I first moved to the City.

I really like the tile exterior, but what caught my eye was the smart verbal marketing:

"Tailored" salads!

I thought the owners - or designers - of this hotel came up with a really great visual-branding idea here:

Finally, I'm awarding this tiny cafe the best-of-its-kind in the "Curious" category:

We just happened to notice it as we waited for an Uber ride back to our top-of-Nob Hill lodgings. 

It reminded us of Rick Bragg's book The Best Cook in the World:  Tales From My Momma's Table.  His momma demurred when he proposed that name:

"I wasn't even the best cook that lived on our road," she said. 
"Your aunt Edna was a fine cook.  Our momma was a fine cook."

I told her we couldn't call it
The Third-Best Cook on the Roy Webb Road,
because that just didn't sing."