Friday, June 29, 2012

The Challenge: Outerlands

Depart Noe Valley and spin up and over the big hill to the west, and you'll soon descend into fog. This is the Sunset district, the far side of San Francisco that borders the Pacific. The neighborhood is a little grayer, a lot sleepier. It's mostly populated by an older crowd with a smattering of surfers. If you meet a twenty-something at a party, and she admits to living in the Sunset, she typically shrugs her shoulders and concedes that the rent is good. It's far out. It's foggy. It's oceanic.
















My godparents own a charming motel on this side of town. When I told them I wanted to go to brunch at Outerlands, they seemed confused. They said they hadn't been in over a year. The wait times were notorious. The irony is, we'd recently been to Universal Cafe, which thankfully delivered such a delicious brunch that Marc and Vicki seemed to forget (or at least forgive) the outrageous length of time we hung around for a table. My personal theory is that this sort of behavior is expected in the Mission, but rather high maintenance for the Sunset.




















7x7 calls out the Eggs in Jail. Now before you get too excited, these are not wicked eggs. They are not deviled, they have not committed any crimes of note. I was somewhat taken aback when I discovered that "eggs in jail" are what my family would refer to as "toad in the hole," simply an egg cracked into a piece of toast. If you're into buttery, runny yolks and crispy, panfried bread, you catch my drift. Outerlands knocks it out of the park with a thick slab of killer crusty bread. Pair it with a tangle of California greens (hello, mini leaves of ruby chard) and a freshly squeezed mimosa, and, my friends, you have a brunch worth waiting for.







Moreover, I kind of dig the vibe. The inside of the restaurant yields to reclaimed wood interiors, outside the street is lined with gnarled old trees. In a swirl of fog, we cozied up under a heat lamp and a complimentary crocheted blanket. Far out, man.