Culminating in a lovely Christmas dinner featuring a beautiful rib roast on top of the table and four dogs duking it out underneath the table,  our annual holiday pilgrimage to California involved eating with an fervor we haven't mustered since, oh, Barcelona. The savory details, after the slide show.

SAN FRANCISCO

After a very uncomfortable five hours on a crappy American Airlines flight (since when did Jet Blue get so expensive?), we dumped our stuff at my sister Lauren's apartment and uncramped our legs by hoofing it over to Pizzeria Delfina, where we promptly consumed far more calories than we had burned by said hoofing. It was our first meal of the vacation, we were excited, so yeah, okay, we went a little overboard. Highlights were the addictive spicy cauliflower, salumi, the Monterey Bay sardines, and the pizza—oh, that pizza! I've had better crust in New York, but the toppings on the carbonara pie, listed as a special, made it memorable. Soft leeks, meaty pancetta, black pepper, cheese, and runny egg. Mmmm. We saved two slices and ate them for breakfast the next morning.

The following day, we made our way to the Ferry Building to stock up on gifts and enjoy our annual lunch at the Hog Island Oyster Bar. After slurping a dozen oysters, we scarfed down bowls of delicious, extra-clammy clam chowder, decadent Oysters Rockefeller, and an oozy grilled cheese. We were supposed to meet up with a couple of Brian's former co-workers in front of their office, but we didn't feel like leaving the Ferry Building and convinced them to join us for libations at The Slanted Door. Good call. The cocktails were excellent—and, at around $10 each, a bargain compared to drinks at high-end cocktail bars in New York. That evening, tuckered out, we opted for a quick dinner at The Slow Club, which is just around the corner from Lauren's apartment. It is still one of my favorite places, with a cool industrial vibe and great food. I loved the delicate baby beet salad and fresh pasta with sausage and peppers; Brian's burger with Gorgonzola was killer.

The next evening, our last in the city, we met up with Lauren at Delfina (where her last day was December 31st) as she finished up her shift. After a glass of wine at the bar, we jumped into her car and headed to Coi, where we had reservations for the loungy front room, whose long banquette is strewn with irresistibly furry pillows. Surprisingly, on this Thursday night, only one other couple sat in the front room the entire two hours or so we were there. This was my first encounter with molecular gastronomy—the foams, the gelees, the, um, restrained portions. We ate lots of stuff Brian and I don't usually eat, like caviar, foie gras, wheat grass cream. Lauren used to date the sommelier and they're still friends, so we got to taste wines of a caliber that I'm sure Brian and I won't taste again for a long, long time. After Coi, we headed to Absinthe, where Brian and Lauren both drank, appropriately, absinthe—specifically, Hangar One, combined with Champagne in a cocktail charmingly named "Death in the Afternoon." It was herby and intense stuff. No hallucinations reported, though.

Next week: Four Dogs and Seven Dozen Oysters, or, Christmas in Sonoma

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