Harry Partch, Gustavo Romero, Diamanda Galas, Pacific Strings, inside the opera, best organs, best pianos, the composer, the concertmaster, the piano tuner, the tenor, the symphony player’s wife
Various Authors 6:22 p.m., Sept. 24
Bonk! The fig hits my head and bounces onto the table. Nobody even turns and looks. Anak the raccoon-striped café cat, runs around the tree-crowded balcony to smell the fruit.
And to beg for scrapings of butter from customers.
We're in a mini-jungle right here in the middle of Golden Hill.
This is at Krakatoa (1128 25th Street, Golden Hill, 619-230-0272).
It's the li'l old craftsman cottage across the alley from the Turf Club. It's surrounded by bamboo and figs and ferns and a deck they built back in 2003. I swear, there ain't no better patio in the whole of 'Diego.
And the thing it's perfect for is studying or blogging. Or writing difficult love letters. Or having a nice long chin-wag with someone you haven't seen since school.
Julie brings my breakfast. It's a big dark blue plate of granola with strawberries and bananas and blueberries and a side of unflavored yogurt ($6.25). Plus a large cup of coffee in a blue ceramic cup ($2.25).
The place is comfortably crowded. People sit in the leafy shade of this big ol' fig tree that sprouts out through the deck. Its huge leaves are also dropping with clunks onto the tables and plates.
I really hate to leave after my buddy's gone. So I go back to the counter inside and order another large cawfee. Then I see more menus on the wall. They have things like the grilled Santorini sandwich with artichoke hearts and provolone, for $7.75. But no. Too much, after all that fruit.
This is when I spot these dee-lish-looking no-hole "dirty chai" donuts.
"I've just baked them," says Julie.
Turns out she's the manager and also the baker. "I had to learn on the job. One of the owners is my sister Jessica. She and her ex-husband created this place."
What the heck. I've eaten my health stuff, and these are vegan. They're two bucks each. I get two.
Must say, Julie seems to have learned the art of baking pretty well. I take the two donuts out to the deck, and manage to kill another hour dunking them in the cawfee and slowly eating those suckers one chomp at a time.
Only thing you have to worry about in this little Shangri-La: the drones overhead armed with fig bombs.