Happy Summer

Summer Vacation

We just arrived home from Mexico yesterday, all of us nut-brown and one of us (me) mosquito-bitten. We stayed in a resort that seemed to have been designed per the specific instructions of a focus group of 5-7 year olds. The kid’s pool was miles of water that reached Hugo’s waist, fountains, play structures, slides, wave pools, and well-positioned ice cream kiosks. I fear that Hugo has been spoilt for the San Francisco muncipal pools.

We managed to find some adventure and good food, despite the luxe resort living. A drive up the Nayarit Coast found us in a town we fell in love with, Lo de Marcos, and we’re tentatively planning a longer trip there. Shrimp, octopus and marlin were daily fare, and I think it will it will be a while before we cook seafood. We gorged on pineapples, mangos, and melons. But the highlight was definitely watching Hugo as his little head exploded with sheer fun.

Hugo’s Guide to San Francisco. Part I: Eating

The first in what we hope is a series.

Hugo, though susceptible to the occasional bout of pickiness, is a good eater and loves all types of food. He loves eating out too, and one of the best things about living in San Francisco is the dining options (why else do we pay so much to live here?). So, dear reader, if you live in the City and want to know what Hugo likes, or if you’re the occasional visitor and want to know what a 20-month-old boy with most of his teeth and weakness for cute waitresses prefers in a restaurant, read on…

Breakfast

For a sit-down place in Outer Noe, you can’t do better than Toast (Church & Day Street). We come here a lot. Sometimes Sacha and Hugo come here for a little mama-son bonding, sometimes he and I come when mama’s out of town and papa’s too lazy to make dinner. The Toast Combo is a huge breakfast and Hugo will happily liberate the sausage, pancakes, and scrambled eggs from your plate. His favorite here, however, is the fruit plate.Hugo knows how to order this, and, last time we were here, he started demanding (loudly) for “fwoot” “fwoot!”. He wasn’t trying to be rude, I think he was just happy that he knew how to ask for something (and be understood!). Hugo loves the comely young waitresses here, and they love him. Everybody’s really nice and it’s definitely kid-friendly, befitting a breakfast spot in Noe and only a block away from the Noe Rec Center. Kid-friendly is not how we would describe Pomelo, on the next block. We used to go there before Hugo came along, but this place’s refusal to get high chairs and the general sniffy attitude of some of the guys there means we haven’t been in years.

Our favorite coffee shop is Luv A Java (Dolores at 26th Street). The owners, Abraham and Ruthie, are friends of ours and they have a daughter, Alia, who is just a few months younger than Hugo. Abraham has already vowed that Hugo and Alia will wed one day. They have a great collection of books and mini Ritter Sport chocolates. Unlike the recently-closed Last Laugh Coffee, unfortunately, there is no kids area or crap for Hugo play with. Plus, a lot of people like to bring their laptops here and “work” (look at Facebook, perhaps peck at their never-to-be-published-for-a-good-reason novels, etc.) and give Hugo the occasional stink-eye.

Hugo and I are vey partial to the blueberry and pecan scones at Noe Valley Bakery (24th Street, between Noe and Castro). We take our scone to the benches next door and scarf it down, saving a few crumbs for the little black birds that gather at the foot of Hugo’s stroller, which he delightedly peppers with his leftovers.

Hugo and I have also breakfasted at Al’s Good Food Cafe (Mission at 29th Street). I’m hesitant to recommend it to everyone, however. It’s the greasiest of greasy spoons and Sacha thinks it’s kind of icky. Call it a guilty pleasure. They have a whole lot of crap on the walls andthe coffee is terrible, but the pancakes are fluffy and the prices are low.

For Dim Sum, Hugo prefers the offerings at Tong Palace (Clement at 10th Avenue)  in the Richmond. He likes noodles and siu mai, but he really loves sticky rice and can finish a satchel all on his own. They have great weekday specials ($.99 for any item). Highly recommended.

Up next, lunch and fast food…

Color my World

Hugo has got most of his colors down pat. He can tell you with a decent degree of reliability what is brown, black, red, blue, orange, green, white, yellow, pink, and, get this, magenta. He just learned that one today.

He is very proud of his new found knowledge. He shows off constantly. This morning during breakfast at a local eatery, Hugo kept standing up in his high chair to exclaim the color of the shirt of everyone in the restaurant. An older man alone walked in wearing an oxford shirt. “Blue!” screamed Hugo. The waitress passed us. “Red!” hollered Hugo, pointing at her t-shirt. Each time he looked at me, waiting for the laudatory remarks. He learned magenta today after inquiring repeatedly about the pink-purple-red hue of my shirt, and has been repeating through the day. I put him down to sleep a little while ago, and after I left the room, as he began his nightly pre-sleep word dump, I heard him murmuring to himself, “magenta….Mama….magenta.”

Hugo is also percolating an interest in numbers and letters. I don’t think that he grasps the concept of what they represent, but he can tell you that S is for Sarah, M is for Mama, P is for Papa and Q is for Quinn, etc. 

I guess all that TV exposure is finally paying dividends!

Vroom!

Hey, are there any Cheerios eaters out there? Because Hugo fancies the Lego speed racers that are included in Cheerios boxes right now, and he would like to ask you a favor: save the cars for him!  

I Promise We Won’t Keep Blogging About the Potty

Really, I do. But here’s Hugo giving the thing a tire kicking.

Yep, He’s a Big Boy Now

Hugo is the only one in our household permitted to bring reading materials into the bathroom.

Bear-ly Legal

As paid members of the San Francisco Zoological Society, we feel it’s important to get our money’s worth. Thus Hugo and I go to the zoo a lot. I’m talking 2x a week. I like it because it’s easy to get to, via car or Muni, and because it’s usually very quiet and deserted, the only sound to hear are the exotic animals and my son’s occasional demand for a snack.  Hugo likes the zoo because, well, it should be pretty obvious, right?

Samson Shorn

For the last several months we’ve been noticing with quiet alarm that Hugo’s hair was becoming quite unruly. His wild mop of stringy hair was shooting out in all directions (often scuplted with the aid of pesto sauce, oatmeal, mango, or whatever substance he happened to smear in it). When we asked friends if he needed a haircut we would hear “um, it’s getting a little long…” (though Sandra noted that he resembled a toupee-ed man).

Here he is in a recent shaggy shot with his grandpa.

Long, eh? Although I’d been planning to bring him to my barber, the venerable Larry, at Arcade, the ancient Financial District barbershop I’ve been patronizing for years, the family was all home on Monday and we decided to bring him ’round to the kid-centric hair cuttery around the corner.

The visit started well enough. While we waited, Hugo got to play with the shop’s extensive collection of toy cars (his latest obsession). Finally, it was our turn. The fact that his chair was surrounded by a red car seemed auspicious. Unfortunately, once the penguin cape was placed on him, Hugo started to freak. out. The whole haircut lasted maybe five minutes –the longest five minutes of his young life, perhaps. The stylist was gentle and careful, and Sacha and his aunt Sarah were furiously plying him with toys and these funny Japanese cookies we found on Clement Street. Finally, the last lock was snipped, and I was able to pick up my sniffling, tear-soaked boy.

He got over the trauma pretty quickly (as he always does), and is the same boy as before, just a bit more presentable.

The Chase

Hugo squares off against a basketball … and turns tail.

Hugo is quite a good walker these days but for some reason chose to crawl around my parents’ backyard.