So when our plans to visit San Francisco were made, Tartine was obviously on the top of my must-see list.
We moseyed on over Sunday morning and arrived at the bakery around 8:45. The line was wrapped around the building for this unassuming Mecca of the bread world. When the doors opened at 9am, the smell of freshly baked bread drifted outside and the line began to creep forward.
People were lovely, the pastries divine, and the coffee on point.
I now plan to return every time we visit San Francisco and eventually memorize the menu. I’d also love to somehow migrate back to Texas with a loaf or two of that killer bread in tow.
Now wouldn't that be lovely?