Swan Oyster Depot-San Francisco, CA
The night before had a slight urgency to get to bed, this was felt in the stomach by the worry of not getting there in time. No matter what the time was now, waking fast to get dressed and rounding up the troops to head towards what would surely be a meal we wouldn't be forgetting soon. We arrived on polk street a smidge past eight and could see a few people hanging outside the door, but not enough to deter or let the heart sink even an inch. We rolled up to the queue and were able to sit outside or be able to go inside in thirty minutes, since it did not look like rain would be joining us that day we opted for no wait and sat down outside at a still yet to be cleared table. A nice gentlemen wearing a uniform for someone that would be dealing with fish for the next eight or so hours approached and cleared the table. You know what I mean, a white shirt without blemish (I wonder how they go so long in a day without getting anything on it, a white apron and some tattered jeans to show that he was there enough to know that his recommendation could be taken seriously). After clearing the table we put in for a few anchor steam beers to start off the breakfast. Sitting beneath a plastic ceiling that was held up by a few posts and a tin wall, yet was somehow comforting in this city I had been introduced not 72 hours before. Everything I had come to love about San Francisco came from the little detail of iniquity and hard work that seemed to perspire through the city to newcomers and locals alike. Our beers came in and our order was at the ready like an answer should be to someone that depends on you getting out of their hair as soon as possible. We figured our day should start with some bread, a crab back, and an order of crab cocktail, with of course a starting course of freshly shucked oysters. We started off with a few delicate oysters served alongside some of the strongest horseradish sauce i have have ever had the fortune to meet, a little container of hot sauce, and some mignonette sauce in the same container. After a fresh squeeze of lemon and condimenting the oysters how you like, my preference of course being a little mignonette sauce with a touch of horseradish, we slurped down my favorite treat from the deep waters of the ocean blue and awaited our next course. The smells pervasive to the nostrils with smells of fish, a little bit of freshness, and the overall slight smell this city has, come through to the brain. Our crab back, which as it sounds is just the innards of the crab served in the back of said crab after all the “good meat” had been taken out, you know for everyone else. I have to say as this was my first time I was expecting two things, the first being the innards to be warm and could not have been more wrong in my thinking than I was with this. The second was that it would taste like a crab bisque, but the flavor that I experienced in this dish could be described as nothing more than that to which you would describe the taste of a crab to someone who had never heard of the creature multiplied to the nth degree. It was the most crab tasting thing I had ever tasted and I wouldn't say that was a bad thing, but more of a I have tried it and might order it again. Then came out our Crab cocktail, garnished with a new horseradish, and these were the taste I knew from crab. The plump, delicate pieces of seafood that not only provided the flavor but the mere morsel you ate, you knew it was a treat that much work had been done to get it to your mouth would have your head spinning. The meal concluded, we paid cash to our busboy/waiter and left with our stomachs a little heavier, Our wallets a little lighter, but our senses rejuvenated and our purpose for the day kicked into a gear that i can only explain as an optimism that everything would come our way if we just sought it out.
