PlanJam!From your screen to the scene

Meatloaf and macaroni and cheese? They said they wanted to go to a really nice restaurant. Are you sure about this? "Just trust me." With a completely unconcerned smile, my partner whisked me out the door and propelled me towards the car.

My friends had come from the East Coast to visit me here in San Francisco. Their week in town had nearly ended, and as a thank you for housing them while they were here, they insisted on taking us out for a wonderful dinner. At the time, I had only lived in the City for a few months, and as any transplant who works for a living can tell you, there aren't too many meals that cost more than ten dollars happening at first; San Francisco may be a foodie's wonderland, but the cost of living sure comes as a shock for a girl from Portland, Maine. So of course, I turned to my partner for a recommendation for a fancy dinner; as an eleven-year resident, and a hedonist like myself, she knows where to get the best in anything and everything around San Francisco. Her selection? The Blue Plate Restaurant.

The few tables in Blue Plate are occupied when we arrive, which is no wonder; its seating capacity is limited and intimate, but we don't mind waiting on the back patio. We are led to a table in the garden, where our host pays us exquisite attention despite the fact that we are the only people seated outside. Our wines arrive, and we are apologized to repeatedly for the wait; it seems the people inside are lingering over dessert. No worries, we assure the staff, but we are treated to an appetizer of Gnocchi in a garlic cream sauce for our trouble. The sauce is perfectly balanced, the Gnocchi perfectly cooked, and before we know it, we're being ushered to our table.

At my partner's insistence, we order the meatloaf and the macaroni and cheese to share. All I can think of are the meatloaves and macaroni and cheeses I've seen thus far, and for the life of me, I can't imagine any of it arriving on a plate at an upscale San Francisco restaurant. When the Blue Plate meals arrive, however, it all makes sense.

The portion of meatloaf is enormous, and it's pretty. Have you ever seen pretty meatloaf? No? I'm telling you, it's hard to believe, but it's the truth. The greens and potatoes round off the meal brilliantly, and with every bite, I can imagine the look on my face – caught somewhere between, "Are you kidding me?" and "Can we eat this every night? Please?" The macaroni and cheese is as far from the boxed stuff as you can possibly dream; served in an earthenware bowl, you know that they just finished melting the drunken goat cheese on the pasta and spread the breadcrumbs over the top only seconds before it hit your table. My friends were every bit as impressed with their meals as I was with mine, and my partner was able to wear an "I told you so" smirk all night long.

The portion of meatloaf is enormous, and it's pretty. Have you ever seen pretty meatloaf? No? I'm telling you, it's hard to believe, but it's the truth. The greens and potatoes round off the meal brilliantly, and with every bite, I can imagine the look on my face – caught somewhere between, "Are you kidding me?" and "Can we eat this every night? Please?" The macaroni and cheese is as far from the boxed stuff as you can possibly dream; served in an earthenware bowl, you know that they just finished melting the drunken goat cheese on the pasta and spread the breadcrumbs over the top only seconds before it hit your table. My friends were every bit as impressed with their meals as I was with mine, and my partner was able to wear an "I told you so" smirk all night long.