Salumi Cone -- Boccalone Salumeria, San Francisco, CA
Based on our displeasure concerning the green papaya salad, and our overall exhaustion from our morning of day drinking ("This is why we have to have such a stringent itinerary. So we just can't go back to the hotel and go to bed"), by the time we reach Boccalone Salumeria at the other end of the Ferry Building, we are a tad on the crabby side.
|"Ugh, This Place Again" --Our Inner Commentary|
And that's really saying something, coming from our baseline crankypants selves.
|We're In the Mood to Make Someone Cry -- Look Out|
Plus, being that Boccalone is owned by Chris Cosentino, and he's the person who just sent us to eat the soapiest salad on earth, we're not so fond of him at this exact moment.
|Is That Cooler Filled With Wine? Cause That's About All That Can Save Our Moods Right Now|
Forging ahead, we walk to the counter and order one $4 salumi cone, as raved about by Tyler Florence on the WITH BACON episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate. Now, call us crazy, but when we hear the word "cone," we really expect there to be ice cream involved. So no matter how delicious these three slices of meat in the paper, water cooler-like cup are, they are bound to be at least a trifle disappointing.
|Do You Have Any Custard Back There, Cosentino?|
We escort our cone outside to the patio overlooking the Bay Bridge, Vodka specifying that we need to eat quickly, lest she melt in the mid-day sun.
|Still Life of Meat and Bridge|
Grabbing a spot at a bench by the water, we retrieve slices of meat from the cone tentatively. First come four thin, round slices of salami -- almost pepperoni-like, only they are not attached to a pizza, and are thus useless.
|Someone Call Up Domino's So We Can Make These Meat More Palatable|
At the base of the cone are two equally thin slices of prosciutto, which we assume is good, as far as prosciutto goes, but we are not overwhelmed.
|Meat Lovers Around the World Are Crying at Our "Affection" for Their Delicacy Right Now|
And finally, midway down is a single slice of some sort of pork, which essentially tastes like grocery store lunchmeat (only it is far more laden down with fat).
|So Essentially, We're Eating from a Standard Deli Counter|
Is the meat all relatively tasty and inoffensive? Sure. But frankly, without the added components of cheese, wine, bread and, well, a table, most of their luster is lost on us. And being that we have never in our lives craved random slices of meat "to go," we're kind of just missing the point.
|What's Next? A Meat Drive-Thru? We Will Not Be Their First Customers|
We attempt to wipe the meat grease off of our fingertips (yet another logistical problem with eating such substances out of a cone) and deposit at least of quarter of the remaining cone into the trash can on our way off of the patio.