Eat Me

Sunday night there was no question of my not finding parking. I was meeting a friend at Café Jacqueline because she had told me about this funny place run by a woman who open only from 5 to 10 p.m. Wednesday through Sunday.

I thought: She's open only Wednesday through Sunday? A slightly difficult place to get into, hers. A place where the patron has to jump through a few scheduling hoops, otherwise known as planning ahead. If it were a clothing shop, things aren't off-the-rack and they aren't couture; they're somewhere in between. They're French-like; informal and structured.

So there was no question of my finding parking in parking-space-free North Beach. Parking in North Beach is, well, full of folly--but I was determined. I really REALLY wanted to taste one of these souffles.

So after some driving around and asking around, I found a public parking lot manned--did I luck out--by a guy who allowed me to give him a personal check even though it was a Cash Only operation. He checked my I.D.

My friend was waiting inside, and she had changed tops from earlier. I figured she was dressing up for the bounty of air that was to be soon set before us.

The restaurant serves only souffles for the main course. We were there for a dessert souffle, so we ordered a Grand Marnier.

The waiter set it down very quietly. The two of us looked at it in all its puffy beauty. it reminded me of a toque. The top was straight as a sheer ledge, and snowy with powdered sugar. Resting on the plate were two long spoons, the kind you use for iced tea.

We scooped right in. It didn't take us long to reach the bottom. It was my last meal in San Francisco for a little while at least, and as far as I'm concerned, it's an excellent reason to return.