San Francisco Sunday


When I was a teenager, there was nothing cooler than going up to San Francisco for the weekend with a friend’s punk band. Everyone always hung out at Blondie’s Pizza. Maybe because it’s by the streetcar lines, but probably because it was cheap and there is a basement downstairs where they don’t mind if you get a little rowdy.

While I waited for my friends to meet me, I sat in the basement dining room next to a group of teenaged kids. Soon another group of teenagers sat across from them and they eyed each other until finally someone spoke up, “Hey, I know you!”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Yeah. last week I was on the bus, and there was some crazy motherfucker on the bus and he was punchin’ everybody.”
The accused sat and stared at his slice while everyone stared at him to see if he would admit to punching people on the bus.
Finally he broke the silence, “I must’a been HIGH.”
Then we all turned back to our slices.

The secret of Blondie’s pizza is much the same as Krispy Kreme. Take whatever slice just came out of the oven. Wait for the next pizza if you have to. Fresh out of the oven, the crust is warm and soft, like homemade bread. The cheese melts into long strings and the pepperoni is super spicy. After just 10 minutes out of the oven, the pizza is mediocre at best. They also offer acceptable chicken and salads. Drink refills are 50-cents and the bathroom costs a quarter.


Our selection of the Jazz Bistro for dinner was based on proximity to the hotel and the quality of the music being played. Red flags went up for a few of my dining partners, particularly the dirty restrooms, so there was some disagreement. But I was tired of walking and loved the music. It wasn’t a BAD meal, per se, and the service was excellent. The first glass of wine my friend was given had turned, but they cheerfully exchanged it and were more than gracious when we spilled a glass of water all over the table. The food was just dull. It was good enough. The chicken and fish were properly cooked, and the ravioli was good, but the potatoes were cold. It just really, really reminded us of banquet food. It was wedding reception food. I would go back for drinks and jazz, but only after eating steaks at John’s across the street first.

Blondie’s Pizza 63 Powell Street SF 94102 (415) 982-6168

Jazz Bistro 44 Ellis Street SF 94102 (415) 397-5397

About Kiki Maraschino

I like catfish. Sure, we all like catfish, but I think for me it is somehow deeper.
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