As a Korean-American foodie who resides in West Oakland, I’m lucky that there’s a slew of fine eateries not too far from our home all along Telegraph Avenue in Temescal.
I have a problem with the word “moist.” Anyone who knows me well understands that. For me, it’s right up there with the words “classy” and “slacks.” Upon admission to another person of my distaste for these words, the three are invariably strung together in a sentence, as in “Did you get of load of the moist, classy slacks on her?” It never fails. In fact, I expect it. Still, the mental images these sentences produce are just too jarring.
Things are tough all over. This isn’t exactly news. I can’t think of a single person I know who hasn’t been hit on some level by the mess our economy is in. Everyone, it seems, is scaling back on spending.
And who can blame them?
In a city that prides itself on it food scene, San Francisco’s restaurants have taken a very hard hit. With fewer people lunching and dining out these days, many places in the city have either laid off staff or cut their hours. Some once-favored haunts have decided to close their doors for lunch, some have chosen to to hang out the “Now Open for Sunday Brunch” sign (which is usually an indicator of fiscal desperation), some have been forced to shut down permanently.
As a professional waiter, I consider myself very lucky to be working in a popular and (blessedly) busy restaurant. Hell, I consider myself lucky to have a job. Period.