We recently stayed with a longtime friend in San Francisco. We enjoyed seeing our old hometown through his eyes, as he has moved back recently and loves exploring the changes since our childhood, as do we. My son has also moved to the City*, so we poked around his corner of the City and enjoyed the neighbourhood delights. This area has substantially gentrified since I was his age, so it is fascinating to see the variety of shops and people that are thriving now. Even post pandemic when many people fled the City, there are loads of restaurants, grocery stores and parks filled with people obviously enjoying them.Â
Spending time in my former home triggers all kinds of memories, and interesting recollections surface that I had all but forgotten. My friend and I stirred up all kinds of observations that startled the both of us. I’ll absolutely save those for another day!Â
Meantime I marvel at the ability of certain cities to recycle themselves over the years, as different populations come in and later move away. In edge cities like San Francisco, where people arrive from many countries as well as from across the US, the neighbourhood populations shift and merge, and the cuisines, grocery store offerings and services morph to match local needs.Â
I feel so blessed to have grown up in a place where eating Dungeness crab and artichokes was a normal and regular thing, and sourdough bread was just ‘bread’ to me. The food has only gotten better here over the years as immigrants from all regions and nations have brought their delicious cuisines to influence our lives. As well, the (now several decades ago) focus on fresh and locally produced food inevitably surfaced here since the climate and soils conspired to allow the most amazing range of food to be grown within 100 miles of San Francisco. Between the physical geography of place and the cultural evolution of people flowing through, there is a never ending churn of innovation that touches everything.Â
Sticking with food as an example, as I believe it is a great indicator of culture, what kind of place would stimulate you to imagine thinking up, for example, Asian fusion menus? It has to be a place where multiple cuisines are sufficiently mature that one feels confident to explore beyond the traditional recipes of each cuisine. You’d also need ready access to the various recipes and their ingredients. You’d require a population ready to go beyond expected menu items and willing to risk the unknown. And also love it enough to be willing to pay for it. I’m pretty sure it would need to be a place with 2nd or 3rd generations of national cultures who are not rigidly tied to either the old ways or assimilating fully into the new culture. And that pretty much describes a place like San Francisco.Â
I realise there are some serious issues if one lives in big cities, and I do not mean to minimise the stressors to a place when there are ever-changing populations and economic turnover. What I have observed though, is that compared to places with a minimal turnover of populations, San Francisco has a whole different level of inspiration coming from diverse thinking that permeates perceptions of what is possible. And I realise how significantly that has affected my way of perceiving the world and how I navigate through it.Â
What about you? How do you think the place you grew up has affected the way you approach your life and openness to trying new and unfamiliar things? Do you think your home place affects your attitude? I’d love to hear your thoughts!!!Â
*Native San Franciscans always call San Francisco ‘The City.’
Honored to have made an appearance, and looking forward to future explorations!
The part about the crab, artichokes, and sourdough bread cracked me up. That is exactly what my mother served Fabio on his first trip from Colombia to meet my parents. The pressure on him was on! She wanted to give him a California meal. Of course, he had no idea how to eat it. He'd never seen a crab fork or had had to finesse crab out of the shell. He didn't know what to do with the artichoke or how to get to the heart. What was that little plate of butter for? The only thing he recognized was the bread. Of course he was a very good sport and didn't need to charm my parents with his use of a crab fork.