It would probably look something like this:
Brunch would start out in a relatively demure fashion, snarfling a couple smoked salmon blintzes at RN74 and stealing all the giant sourdough hearts on the tables at Bistro Boudin and the custard brioche brulée at Beach Chalet. Oh, and some challah French toast at Presidio Social Club. Challah!
We don't really know what a persillade is, truthfully, but lamb persillade at Spruce sounds festive. From there, it'd be on to Waterbar, normally a place to focus on jewels of the sea, for a lunchtime grilled leg of lamb sandwich -- and, okay, a whole bunch of oysters. And then a quick nip next door to Epic Roasthouse for some Hugs & Kisses, a cocktail of Aperol, blood orange juice, and cava.
Crowds? What crowds?
There's usually a bit of a lull between what's considered the lunch and dinner hours, but not on this day, when it's just all one glorious matronly meal. We'd kill that time with some sesame and azuki bean ganache macarons at DeLise Dessert Cafe. And probably some ice cream, it's impossible to get out of there without at least trying it.
Dinner starts at 4 p.m. at A16, so swinging by for some roasted scallops and pickled ramps seems prudent, followed by a dip over to the Mission for some duck mousse crostini at Foreign Cinema and Mallard duck leg confit at Cafe de la Presse.
We'll feel beefy after that, but some pan-seared beef tenderloin and bone marrow custard at La Folie oughta do the trick. A nightcap of a three-course New England seafood boil at Dobbs Ferry would help to bring this fantasy meal into the history books. It'll be extra messy, but no one should be caring about appearances at that point.
But wait, did someone say dessert? We're looking at you, Gary Danko's chocolate memento. No idea what that actually is, but we do know you'll need a reminder of the day you lost your mind over food.