Farmers Market like Whoa.

Before I even start on the amazing wonderfulness of my trip to the Napa Valley, I think it's prudent to do a whole post just on the farmer's market at the Ferry Building in San Francisco.

The ferry building itself is a foodie destination, and the saturday farmer's market is known as one of the best in the country. Incredible California spring produce, gorgeous baked goods, meats, flowers, hippies, dogs, pickles, and some mindblowing breakfasts from a cart. I spent almost two hours wandering around in a haze of awe, and mistaking more than one person for Alice Waters.

A little slice of porchetta to go with that latte, perhaps?

I may or may not have had a polenta cake from here.

Heirloom Tomatoes already?! I was like, jigga whaa?

Edible arugula blossoms. Enough said. 

crazy razor clams!

 Ok, this section deserves an explanation. If you don't count the polenta cake I devoured before I knew what was happening, I had been wandering around for much too long without having breakfast. And then... I came across this place--4505 Meats. Well, came across isn't the right phrase... I was more pulled as if by a centripetal pork force. I smelled something hauntingly familiar, and yet out of reach at the same time. It smelled like... something from my childhood... something out of a cart maybe? With a dash of cayenne, perhaps? Gasp. It was true. Fresh chicharrones.

This place was no joke. It was a serious shrine to pig. These chicharrones were even better than the uber-gourmet ones I had at the Publican recently-- apparently because they are fried in a "healthy" rice bran oil. Of course, frying pork fat in a "healthy" oil is kind of like saying a twinkie is good for you if the filling is organic. Anyway, I digress.

After inhaling a few of the light-as-air, intoxicatingly delicious chicharrones, I noticed these little guys:

Make no mistake, these are no normal pigs in a blanket. San Franciscans are morally opposed to forcing pigs to wear blankets. No, this was a maple breakfast sausage baked into a brioche bun, with spices on top, and, if I am not mistaken, maple syrup inside. If you remember one thing, it should be: GOOD THINGS COME IN SMALL PACKAGES. My goodness! This was one crazy little package of sublime. I kid you not, I high fived the chef. For real.

I bet at this point you are thinking, she had chicharrones, a sausage in a brioche, and she is still hungry? Damn, girl.  Well, my snarky readers, the sausage was small and I split one, and the chicharrones... well, they don't count. So for my real breakfast I ordered the Gourmet Toad in A Hole. Imagine my surprise when the chef I had high fived came out looking crestfallen. They had just sold the last one, but, he told me very seriously, "we are gonna make this a win for everyone."

Aware that this was an incredible opportunity, I told my fellow porkophile to make me "something badass that you would eat." I could tell he knew what I meant. And this is the beauty he came up with:

That's right. It's a big daddy andouille sausage with red peppers on a homemade bun, topped with a fried egg and chicharrones! Whooaa, Nellie! He was not messing around. I don't think I have to tell you how incredible it tasted, either.