In 2009, urban farming, like punk in 1991, broke. While San Franciscans have been raising chickens in backyard coops and tending verdant patio gardens for decades, the trend has now sprouted up in the city's mainstream, expanding from the realm of co-ops and collectives to the mayor's cluttered desk: In July, Gavin Newsom issued an executive directive aiming to reshape how city residents make food choices, and now, eight months later, neighborhoods and communities are beginning to taste the (literal) fruits of City Hall's efforts in the form of initiatives like public vegetable gardens and mobile produce markets. In recent years, urban farmers have started seeing their flora and fauna as something more than sustainable, super-local eats. They're hyper-aware of how their work can impact their surroundings, and intrigued by what larger ripples they might make. Thus, their missions are evolving, moving in inspired directions towards a brand of community-conscious agri-activism.

Having a president keen on arugula and a first lady tilling soil outside the White House helps, but the movement has found creative, diverse expression locally. Brooke Budner and Caitlyn Galloway run Little City Gardens, a miniature Mission District farm and salad greens business. The founders see their project as "an experiment in the economic viability of small-scale urban market-gardening," a working model for a career path they'd like to see become more common in America. The greens are fantastic -- as knows anyone who has crunched down on a Bar Tartine salad -- but producing good food for people who care is only a facet of the over-arching goal; it's about the people too -- which probably has something to do with the ongoing success of their Kickstarter-funded expansion campaign. Since 1994, Alemany Farm has gone by a few different handles, but the 4.5 acre South Mission garden, tucked away along the intersection of two major highways, staffed largely by volunteers and neighborhood residents, remains committed to growing food and creating jobs for citizens in low-income communities. Craigslist -- you know, that site we used to use for finding jobs -- is a cornucopia of produce. Its farm and garden classifieds always bristle with city farmers looking to unload excess hauls -- whether they be bunnies, bok choy, or Meyer lemons. Novella Carpenter has raised turkeys, goats, pigs, bees, chickens, geese and rabbits in the backyard of her house in Oakland -- everything "short of a cow," she professed in a February 2009 interview with the aptly named Twilight Greenaway of Culinate. Along the way, Carpenter has never identified her efforts as a model to be followed exactly; her farm comes across like a more personal journey. Nonetheless, she chronicled the tending of her plot and its furred, feathered and winged inhabitants in the acclaimed memoir Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer. Published over the summer, her book presents the sorts of funny-sad lessons rookie urban ranchers might want to take into account: how to fatten a hog on donated restaurant scraps, for example, or how to scale a barbed-wire fence to try and rescue an errant turkey from bloodthirsty dogs. Note the "try" in that last clause.

Newsom likely won't suffer so many slashes and scrapes. A March 23 S.F. Chronicle article outlined his plan of attack:

"Urban agriculture is about far more than growing vegetables on an empty lot...It's about revitalizing and transforming unused public spaces, connecting city residents with their neighborhoods in a new way and promoting healthier eating and living for everyone."

To this end, he's had all city departments look out for fallow land with garden potential. The Mission and Noe Valley public library branches have planted plots and held gardening classes for kids. Seven more branches may shortly follow suit. Last week, the city began building a new garden at a Department of Public Works-owned steam powerhouse at McAllister and Larkin. The farm's bounty will feed volunteers. The Department of Education-sponsored Urban Gleaning Program will teach interested San Franciscans how to plant fruit trees. While many did already, now all farmers' markets must accept food stamps as payment. Subsequently, food stamp purchases at city farmers' markets increased 85% last year, a sign that people will eat well and responsibly when they can afford to do so. And that's just for starters, it seems.

Say what you will about his no-doughnuts policy at civic meetings; the mayor might be on to something here.

Newsom thinks urban farms make life better for residents of a city's communities because they render our surroundings more beautiful and bring people together in the interest of a common goal -- a grassroots movement with actual roots. Quoted in the story's last paragraph, the mayor's "greening director" Astrid Haryati bridged the gap between Newsom's stance and the sorts of mission statements d.i.y. farmers actually kick around:

"It's not only about feeding mouths...It's about feeding the soul and feeding the pride of San Francisco urban dwellers."

The idea that relationships between gardeners might blossom along with the blighted spaces they plant is a compelling one -- that a vital, green space symbolizes a vibrant community -- but words like "soul" and "pride" carry a complexity their usage only occasionally signifies. Food does nurture us on a variety of levels, providing sustenance and pleasure, conjuring up memories of family, routines and valued moments in time: the tomato salad Mom started making every August, family trips to pick blueberries at a farm outside of town. What can a garden really do? It's true that greenery makes people happy -- whether it takes the form of a full-blown farm, or just a few plants on the windowsill of an apartment kitchen. A week or so ago, a friend posted a picture on Facebook -- a photograph of a shocking chartreuse moss snake swelling up and curling around the bottom of a parking meter. He added a caption: "Among the trash laden sheets of concrete in downtown Oakland, one can still manage to find a hint of beauty."

On the surface, feeding the soul sounds cheesier than a knob of Gorgonzola. It's a cliche you heard in college co-op kitchens, usually when you were about to steal a flat of eggs to take back to your slovenly apartment. Soul-feeding is not for everyone. Characterized as such, it's not for me. I hated gardening when I was a kid. I'd rather shop at Rainbow, Bi Rite, and farmers' markets than sow seeds myself -- much less decapitate a duck in my bathtub, Carpenter-style. I do not have a green thumb, or a desire to initiate intimate attachments to animals I intend to slaughter. A few months ago, my dad gave me a tomato plant and I completely forgot about it. It sat on the back deck, soaking in a handsome view -- the McDonald's at 24th and Mission, that dance studio above the cheap Chinese place, and a few willowy palm trees for inspiration. The pot flooded when the rains came; the plant withered when they did not. Still, despite my negligence, in late March, two very, very small yet well-shaped red heirloom tomatoes appeared on the end of one brown vine. I was outside drinking a beer when I noticed. I yanked them off the plant, and ran into the house, screaming to my girlfriend: "We grew tomatoes, and we didn't even try!"

Photo by Jen Maiser

Casual drinkers beware, cocktail nerds have a new way of ordering drinks in San Francisco. No longer satisfied with set menus or even with drink specials du soir, the true cocktailian now knows how to order custom-made drinks, and it's definitely the In thing to do.

Don't believe me? Next time you go to a bar, take a listen. There will probably be at least one or two patrons who, after sampling a few drinks on the bar menu, will leave their next drink up to the bartender. They'll probably give clues like, "I'd like something with Bluecoat gin and ginger" or "I'm looking for something with a bitter edge, but not Campari-bitter," and then sit back to wait for their custom drink.

It's akin to a diner swanning into a restaurant, disdaining the proffered menu, and instead waving a hand at the waiter, announcing, "Tell the chef to surprise me!" In that context, it sounds imperious, arrogant, and more than a bit conceited to assume the chef has nothing better to do than to whip up some special, off-menu delicacy. However, just like a sommelier ferreting out the best wines to pair with dishes, I've noticed that some bartenders in the Bay Area seize upon this request from their drinkers as a challenge.

Not only that, but when the drinker can talk at length about their specific preferences -- often displaying an informed knowledge of liquors, liqueurs, and mixology in general -- the bartender realizes, "Hey, this isn't just another cosmojitini swiller, who doesn't care what I make as long as it was pimped on Lipstick Mafia and goes down easy." The bartender seems to like the fact that the drinker is not just drinking, but thinking. That, in recognition of the bartender's prowess, the drinker is putting as much care into their ordering as the bartender puts into his or her shaking and straining.

Now, I'm not saying that you should charge into a bar, heedless of the crowds that might be there, and demand your made-to-order drink. I'm saying, take some time to learn the menu, get a rapport going with the bartender, and if he or she is not overwhelmed with orders and customers, make your move. But you can't just say, "Surprise me!" and expect magic to swirl into your glass. No, you have to do your part as well. Explain the things you like and don't like. Show some respect for the menu and the bar.

According to the National Restaurant Association survey of chefs, the following are "hot" for 2008:

1. Bite-size desserts
2. Locally grown produce
3. Organic produce
4. Small plates/tapas/mezze
5. Specialty sandwiches
6. Craft/artisan/microbrew beer
7. Sustainable seafood
8. Grass-fed items
9. Energy drink cocktails
10. Salts (e.g. sea, smoked, colored, kosher)

Bite-sized desserts. Yay! Big portions force diners to share. Who wants to share dessert? I mean, who WANTS to as opposed to who feels FORCED into it by huge portions. My favorite? Sampler plates with lots of bite-sized desserts.

Locally grown produce. Nice. Funny to think of this as a trend rather than a way of life, but whatever.

Organic produce. Not sure if Walmart organic is a good thing or not, but if it means people are paying more attention to produce, that's good.

Small plates. As long as you don't end up spending $60 and feel hungry, I'm down with this one too.

Specialty sandwiches. Is this like what they serve at Craft where my grilled cheese and mushroom sandwich was sliced with a tuna-laden knife? If so, I'll pass.

Craft/artisan/microbrew beer. Really? This is a new trend? Color me bored.

Sustainable seafood. Fish Forever: The Definitive Guide to Understanding, Selecting, and Preparing Healthy, Delicious, and Environmentally Sustainable Seafood was one of my favorite books last year. This feels like an imperative to me. Either we go sustainable or we can forget eating clean and safe seafood in the future.

Grass-fed items. I suppose they mean meat? I'm trying to warm up to it. Really. But I am so used to fat in meat...

Energy drink cocktails. Scary.

Salts. I'm kind of growing bored of this one too, does that mean I'm ahead of the curve? Obsession with salts seems very 2004.

What trends are you most excited about or most tired of?