sf rec: cafe mystique

Its not unusual for me to hang out or get together with my mom and her friends. In recent years I’ve been hanging a lot with her and her old airline friends from when they all worked at SFO in the 80s. If you read my SF rec about the restaurant Suppenkuche, which was affectionately named “the gays, the gals and the germans,” then there’s a good example of that group. I really enjoy getting together groups of people from my many different circles and knd of curating sub groups of people I think would unexpectedly vibe well together however, this dinner was simply me, my brother Craig, mom and her bestie Uncle Jamie. Her Jamie is the equivalent to my Dylan, and if you have watched my vlog, then you surely have an idea of what I’m talking about.

On this particular evening Uncle J invited us for dinner in the Castro district in San Francsico also known as the “gay neighborhood” of our city and I think it’s also seen as the “gay” capital in the world, but you can correct me on that if I’m mistaken. So I digress, we were invited to dinner and we went to Cafe Mystique. Sounds pretty gimmick-y but we are in the Castro and they gays love to gimmick. Apparently the restaurant was initially a Moroccan restaurant when they opened several years ago but have since expanded their menu with pastas, sandwiches and burgers and things of that sort. We werren’t able toosit indoors due to the high volume of other diners so we opted for outside since there wasn’t a wait and the SF weather was very forgiving this particular evening.

We gave our drink orders and I had a glass of house red and my brother ordered an orange mojito and our senior diners simply had water. Not long after we ordered our meals, which I’ll dive into for a second we had a surprise guest join us but just for a fleeting second. A rat. Yes, welcome to outdoor dining in San Francisco and I thank G-d that my purse wasn’t on the ground because the way this little Remy was running I think he would’ve surely heisted it. I mean really, he was on a mission and I’d be damned if he took off with my Gucci Belt bag because we would have had to square up. Other than that, we each ordered a different pasta from the menu and tried eachothers and everyone at the table was very pleased with their meal. I ordered the spicy chicken pasta which had mushrooms, roasted tomatoes and a creamy garlic sauce and I chose the spiciest option for the sauce and was not disappointed. It was too much for me to finish, so that tells you that the portions were normal because I can rarely finish any normal sized meal. Craig got the traditional spaghetti, mom ordered the shrimp pasta but subbed shrimp for prawns and it was amazing and Uncle J I believe got the chicken and lemon pasta, so if you read this Uncle J don’t come for me and my negligent journalism.

Besides our little friend Remy the rat, which mind you, did not come from the restaurant but rrathe the Castrro Street Fair that we had just missed by thirty minutes, the vibe of the restaurant was relaxed and eclectic. Not only in persons dining but the overall atmosphere and the furniturree. It was clear that the initial moroccan influence was present despite the Italian and Amerrican fare for dining options. It would be niice next time, and yees there will be a next time, to dine indoors not only to avoid Remy the rat but because it seemed to have a good balance of a leisurely, lofty but elevated interior energy. We finished dinner with a couple cappucinos, a second glass of wine and an espresso and then headed across the street to Hot Cookie. Basically, Hot Cookie is an SF institution that you have to try at least once when you visit the Castro. They’re famed for their penis shaped donuts either dipped in dark or white chocolote and their cookies shaped like vaginas. I’ve actually only tried a bite of one, and it was this very night after eating at Mystique. Craig, my brother, wanted to get one and of course with his gorgeous dirty little brain, got the dark chocolate donut and his sole remark was, there appears to be coconut in this. Touche Craig. Will I be returning to Cafe Mystique? Yes. Will I choose to dine indoors? Yes? Do I hope to see Remy again? No, unless he’s in the back with Linguini making me that pasta, that I will surely be ordering again. And before you come for me for eating pasta while also being intolerant to gluten, that’s how good this meal was. I risked it all for an amazing dish and a street rat.

sf rec: aunt charlie’s

Kailyn Chadwick