Worth the Wait

Saturday morning at Tartine

   
     In a place like San Francisco, waiting in line means you've shown up at the right spot. By the end of our weekend up north for our friends wedding, I was beginning to feel like we shouldn't be wasting our time at places that didn't have a line! It all started our first morning there when our friend Ryan, who we were staying with in the Mission district, told us we had to try Tartine Bakery near his apartment. We had heard of this bakery a couple times before, and decided to check it out. Daunted by the line halfway down the block Ryan reassured us, "It goes fast. Kinda." Half an hour of pleasant conversation later we all found ourselves staring at cases of the massive chocolate croissants, sugary morning buns, hefty cakes and hot quiches. How to decide?? This is always a quandary for me, and I ended up ordering enough breakfast for a small family. Needless to say, the perfected recipes, freshly baked every morning, stood up to their reputation. Although the first bite can tell you it's the most amazing buttery concoction ever, until then all you have to judge by is the line.

      The next morning we wandered to yet another Mission district favorite - Four Barrel Coffee. And again, a long line out the door. This time Ryan was not there to reassure us, but I was more confident in the belief that extreme goodness can lie at the end of a line. We eventually got to the front counter and ordered two coffee's to go. That's it. We put in our milk and headed out the door. After one sip, I was completely taken by surprise, "Whoa, what IS that??" "Yeah, it tastes weird," my husband agreed. "I have NEVER tasted coffee like this. Do I like it? I don't know yet." The final consensus was that I really liked their uniquely tasting coffee, which apparently comes from the way they roast it. And many many people find it worthy of a queue.

Bi-Rite

    
   
     Lastly, while we were walking down the street we saw a tiny little grocery store that looked inviting, with fresh flowers and produce outside, and an awning that said "Bi-Rite". The crowded conditions deterred no one as much as the cheese, bread, deli, wine, and produce lured them in. I was in a tiny little hobbit hole of heaven! It was a perfect gourmet, healthy grocery store in the amount of space of most Orange County kitchens. Mesmerized by the cheese, I dutifully opted for some fresh fruit, and once again jumped in the long line. By this time I was used to the routine, and it bothered me not in the slightest. Although I couldn't buy everything that looked fantastic, the fruit was great and the idea of the store was exciting.

     I realize lines don't always mean something good -  like the line at Macy's to buy Jessica Simpson shoes and get her autograph. Or the DMV, or red lights, or airport security. But when wandering around a new town, a line can mean a sign - this is where the locals deem something good enough to wait for. Where do YOU wait in line in your town?