Mac’n’cheese sandwiches & the country’s best burrito; a lesson on how to be deliciously naughty in San Francisco…

This roadtrip has been a voyage of culinary discovery so far and we’ve barely made a dent in it; from donuts to oysters to bourbon to kale, we’ve scaled the high and frankly, even higher points of West Coast dining and the last post resulted in my lauding with honours the fabulous Pacific Catch and their heavenly salmon rice bowls.

But let’s face it, in order to maintain the perfect balance, everything has its opposite; as there are hot dogs, so there must be mustard. As there is gin, so there must be tonic. As there is jelly, so there must be ice-cream. And as there are healthy salads, so there must be treats of such oozy, heavy deliciousness, they’re worth every potentially guilt-inducing moment of devouring.

I say guilt-inducing in jest because I actually don’t think you should ever feel guilt about what you eat. It’s your choice so put in your mouth, your tummy, your body whatever makes you happy and accept the consequences. Personally, I love pretty much everything so I try and eat pretty much everything in moderation. That said, I’ve never in my life put a Ben & Jerry’s pint back in the freezer half-eaten so let that be all you need to know about how slippery that damn slope of moderation can be at times. Anyway my point is, eat what you like & work it off or eat what you like, don’t work it off &  accept that waistbands may tighten unless the only things you eat that make you happy are broccoli and tofu in which case what are you doing reading this blog?

We’ve established then that San Francisco is the playground of the active, the luminous & the healthy but it also has a dark side that is really quite exceptional. Let’s have a look at the savoury portion of the dark side in this post and talk grilled sandwiches stuffed with mac’n’cheese and a burrito that has frequently topped a gazillion shrieking ‘Best Burrito in the World!’ polls…

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Down & dirty & utterly delicious donuts for grown-ups…

Well hello lovely blog browsers! The warmest of welcomes back to Portland where I’m afraid we need to get right down to business and that business is donuts. Donuts that, frankly, are not for kids.

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See? Told you.

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A carby cure for too much Godzilla, karaoke and sambuca…

Welcome to a teeny-tiny-but-perfectly-formed-none-the-less post.

Seriously. It’s under 200 words. I deserve a medal, or at least a certificate…I may actually go and knock one up Geller style on the laptop…

This weekend has been full of firsts and included a pretty fabulous birthday celebration – 3 hours of IMAX 3d ‘Godzilla’ followed by 3 hours of Sambuca shots and Lucky Voice Karaoke. Yep, just a quiet, intimate little celebration that meant this morning got off to a slightly slower than normal speed.

Mrs. Doubtfire. Pyjamas. Epic breakfast sandwiches.

I’m talking crispy bacon medallions, perfect creamy avocado, gooey poached egg and golden seed-scattered bread with a generous dousing of ketchup and a large mug of tea to wash it down with.

Haute cuisine this is not. Satisfying and moreish this is. I’m not going to pretend this is difficult to make or that you can’t adapt it because you absolutely can although I risk being really annoying here when I say it’s pretty close to perfect as is but whatever dear readers, knock yourself out by swapping red for brown sauce or throwing a sausage in there as well to sit atop it’s porky bacon mate; this is nothing more than a simple little post celebrating a breakfast of champions.

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It’s amazing how much more human you feel after loading yourself up with delicious comfort food and watching Robin Williams shake it with a vacuum…