Maia B.'s Profile

I first came here for some kind of web conference on one of the top floors in the summer of 2007. Over the past 4 years, I've taken countless visitors here on the mandatory tour of Union Square. It's always a breath of fresh air to get their pure, unfiltered look at San Francisco in the middle of all the falsity and consumerism of Union Square.

One of the few places that the friendliness of the employees has drawn me back again and again. Plus, it's one of the few cafes in the Castro with wifi and good cafe. Love it.

Significantly less expensive and more convenient than owning my own printer/scanner.

All of my knowledge of San Francisco cafes is incredibly outdated, from the time when I had money to spend on these things. This is illustrated by my experience with Coffee Bar, when I went in last weekend to ask for a coffee from the Clover machine. The barista said they didn't have one, and I said "Well you used to!". He replied "Yup.... like, 2 years ago".

Oops.

So, headsup y'all -- no more Clover!

I found about the Henry Miller Library in the oddest way. I was interviewing for a sublet at 14th and Valencia, and our weekend plans came up. I said that my boyfriend and I were going camping in Big Sur, and my (ultimately doomed) hopeful landlady lit up. "Oh, you must go to the Henry Miller museum!" Well, I'm not really much for museums, and I was going to Big Sur to see Nature with a capital "N", not art. However, I also really wanted a place to live, and I'm good at feigning interest. "Really? That sounds great, what's it like?", hoping I could slide through this conversation without making it obvious that I'd never even heard of Henry Miller. She told me a bit more about it, mentioning that it hosted bands I've also never heard of in small backyard concerts. I promised to go, and we said our goodbyes.

The weekend comes, and the boy and I, being too naive to have made reservations for a campsite in Big Sur, are driving up and down Highway 1 considering our options (by which I mean receding into deeper and deeper desperation). On one of our laps, I see a sign on front of a wooden fence, with "Henry Miller Library" neatly lettered on it. For some reason, I'd assumed the place was outside of Big Sur, in a town that looked like San Luis-Obisbo or something, so I was quite surprised to see it nestled in the woods like that. "I know this place we gotta stop!" and compliant boy pulls over to park without question. We parked next to an old car with an old surfboard perched on top of the rack, and shared smiles about how cool it was.

This was only the start, as our entire visit continued to be glowingly excellent. The boy and I couldn't stop quickly turning our heads to check and make sure the other understood how epic the latest attention-grabber was, only to quickly turn back upon receiving confirmation. From the sculptures made of computer monitors in the gardens; to the best collection of books I've ever encountered (including fiction, scientific non-fiction, first editions, and literary arts magazines), as well as lithographs, and books hanging from the ceiling; to the yard cloaked in christmas lights and headed by a modest stage... we only encountered astoundingly comfortable excellence everywhere we looked.

We were excited to talk to the young man staffing the desk. He, as to be expected I suppose, shared our enthusiasm for the space, and delighted us with tales of the bands that had played in this small, intimate venue: MGMT, Animal Collective, Blonde Redhead, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc. He casually mentioned that if we were still in town, we should come by the next night to watch the finale, the top 5 films, of that summer's Big Sur Short Film Festival. We hadn't planned to be in town, but with a big of finangling, rearranged our plans so that we could be.

When we arrived the next night, we took our seats in the third row of white folding chairs lined up in front of the stage. Before the films were shown, a composition by Philip Glass was played by the Youth Orchestra of the Americas. When they had finished, they stood up and bowed, then thanked their composer, who was sitting in a grey sweatshirt with his wife in the row in front of us. Philip Glass. was sitting in front of us. sitting. in Big Sur. by us. It took me three of the five films to even calm down enough to start paying attention to them.

Fleet foxes is playing next weekend. Naturally, tickets were sold out as they became available. Regardless, we're planning on driving down again... maybe we can sit in the parking lot to overhear their set. It's worth the drive, even just to be near such a wonderful thing.

We had a delightful dinner at the Belmont. The food was fantastic -- we split a blue cheese lover's salad, the goat cheese linguine, and the banana boat dessert. We enjoyed their whipped butter with balsamic vinegar on fresh bread, and were impressed with the amount of seafood that came with our pasta, especially the buttery scallops, and big chunks of salmon.

Yes, the furnishings could be updated -- the upholstery on our booth was ripped, and the bathroom was in poor shape. Our service was fantastic though. I ordered a gin fizz and was surprised to receive a sloe gin fizz. We chalked up the difference in expectations to a generational divide, and the waiter happily replaced my drink. (The updated gin fizz definitely had 7-up in it, a low-class, HFCS-y replacement for club soda and sugar. Not a cocktail place, we'll just say that.)

Do check out the grotto though, a neat basement that showcases the history of the place.

Sweet Basil is my absolute favorite restaurant in suburban Boston.

First, you must pick up a bottle of wine at a liquor store. Sweet Basil does not serve alcohol, but they will happily serve you your wine for a corking fee.

Second, you must bring (lots of) cash. Sweet Basil does not accept other forms of payment.

Third, you must arrive with plenty of time to spare. Sweet Basil does not accept reservations. While you are waiting for a table, you should walk down the street to Masala Art for a cocktail.

Fourth, you must order the baked gouda appetizer.

Continue as you like. This is my Sweet Basil recipe for success.

You might have thought, from my reviews, that the answer'd be coffee, but it's not! Turns out, the absolute best way to stave off the freezing winter winds in Boston is to take a hot power yoga class at H.Y.P.

I appreciate the cohesiveness of H.Y.P. -- all their design, from the studio furnishings to the website, is consist, matches well, and makes for a nice experience. Given that the classes are much larger than I prefer, they pull them off quite well -- though there are many students in each class, the instructors still manage to come around to give individual attention to those who need it, and I never had any trouble hearing instructions.

Check it out one day when you just can't shake the cold!

Super fun -- they've got a damn good grilled cheese, awesome selection of gourmet breads, and huge tasty pitchers of orange sangria!

This place has better Thai food than Thailand. The Swimming Rama is the best. While dining there once, my friend said to me "I think that's the first time I've ever seen you finish a whole plate of food".