Finally my weekly exoneration from dorm food! My father took me out for lunch again today-when went out for Indian food last Monday. Today we decided to try Sol Food, restaurant down on 4th Street offering authentic Puerto Rican Cuisine. The green painted interior is a quaint recreation of a busy island kitchen, crowded with plants and eclectic furniture and decor. A large shelf by the cashier displays a collection of beverages from Agua de Coco to Fizzy Lizzy's in eight different flavors. Below the shelf were two troughs of ice filled with chilled beverages, my father selected a Fizzy Lizzy, but I had my heart set on trying the homemade limeade in a jar advertised on the door.

He ordered the Ensalada de Pollo, organic greens, tomato, avocado, baked (free-range) chicken, pickled pink onions, and lemon-garlic dressing. I had the Combinacion Vegetariano, black beans served over rice, organic greens, fresh avocado, tostone, and maduro. And of course, having the sweet tooth that I do, I ordered the Tembleque, a creamy coconut pudding with mango sauce. After ordering we took a seat at one of the heavy wood tables and played catch up, discussing my school, his business, my little brothers, music, religion. I love to hear my father talk, impart wisdom, ponder, and share with me his goals in life.

The food was good and I ate slower than I am accustomed to, savoring the flavors, the moments spent with my father free of conflict, devoid of the complications of the divorce. Turning eighteen at the beginning of this year marked the end of his "legal obligations" towards me and I was afraid that that would end any hope of us having the close relationship that we have always tried to attain but that he always managed to put off, prioritizing work. But sitting there, I realized that my fears were unfounded. Turning eighteen, being in college, allowed him the comfortable freedom of being able to visit me as often as he had always wanted to.

I offered him a taste of the coconut pudding. He took a bite and quickly put down the spoon, dubbing it a "triple shot of sugar." He was right, the syrup was heavy and sugary, and I apologized, remembering his diabetes. The fact that the risk of diabetes runs on both sides of my family and the fact that it really was a bit too sweet should've made me put down my spoon right then as well, but I have a terrible habit of always finishing dessert.

We had a moment in the car, sitting in front of my dorm saying goodbye. It took almost ten minutes to say goodbye. He couldn't stop looking at me and he kept telling me how much he missed me. He wiggled my nose as if I were a child, like a desperate attempt to reclaim the years that he had lost. He told me he loved me and wiped his eyes. And he promised to do his best to take me out to lunch almost every week. No matter how many promises he's broken in the past, no matter how much my mother and stepdad and sister and boyfriend pity me each time I get my hopes up about my father...I believe him. I want and I need to believe him.

I thank God for food and the things it does to people.

Another Friday home with a stomach and mouth eager for flavor after a torturous week of dorm food. Today I sought satisfaction in the city. My first stop was San Francisco's Ferry Building Marketplace. Where I ogled the goodies from Miette Patisserie, Recchuiti Confections, and Scharffen Berger Chocolate Maker. I also spent a good half hour running wide-eyed through Sur La Table, adding to my infinite mental wishlist and sadly leaving empty handed, yet inspired.

My destination for lunch was very spontaneous. La Provence was chosen solely by name from a search on local restaurants from my mother's GPS. I know they say never to judge a book by it's cover, but on this occassion (and many others) I have to plead guilty. I often pick a book because of an interesting cover, a restaurant because of an intriguing name, and a recipe because of a drool-inducing picture. My method doesn't fail me often, so I have yet to reform my ways.

This choice proved to be no exception and I was very happy with my decision making skills after lunch. La Provence serves organic, natural, and free-range dishes inspired by Southern France, as well as locally grown fruits and vegetables. I started off with the Salade Olivier (goat cheese toast, tapenade, bacon, frisse, honey cilantro dressing), that I unfortunately consumed happily before realizing half way through that I hadn't yet taken a picture of it. My main course, the Tartine Provencal, pictured above, was a delightful combination of anchovies, pesto, bell pepper, and parmesan on a wheat toasted tartine. My dessert choice was spontaneous, the Tarte Tropezienne, brioche filled with citrus infused pastry cream served with a side of marmalade, a very new experience for me since I hardly ever order anything citrusy. No regrets whatsoever, the brioche wasn't too heavy, the cream was flavorful and light, and the marmalade was refreshing and cool.

After lunch I was overcome with a desire to visit the South of France myself to confirm the authenticity of my delicious meal. Until that time, however, they will definitely be seeing more of me over at La Provence.