Lamb and opera. and baseball.

Word to the wise - summer and San Francisco is not a time of warmth and sun. It's a time of deception, the cold and wet week, the questioning of why I still own tank tops.

(To answer the last question, it's because there are sometimes periods of warmth midday where basking in the sun is a great idea. They're over by 6 p.m. though.)

Friday night was spent at Opera in the Park, a live simulcast of Tosca from the San Francisco Opera house on a giant screen at, coincidentally, Giant's stadium. I mean, AT&T Park. Mike and I met a couple of friends there and we found seats on the field itself. Ballpark grass is incredible plush stuff. And very green. Sitting in left field we had decent neighbors, luckily the women in front of us left at the first intermission so we could stretch our legs out. They couldn't deal with the music apparently.

There was something wonderful about a clear night, bright moon, breeze off the water and a stadium packed with people all watching an opera while having snacks and drinking whatever they smuggled in illegally or bought at an overpriced concession stand. Popcorn and tragedy go surprisingly well together. Also great was when Tosca stabbed the evil police chief (who you understand is evil because he comes in wearing black and is a baritone) people cheered and clapped, then someone yelled "You go Tosca!"

Not your average opera-going crowd.

My bike went flat on the ride over, so Sarah (who joined us for the third act and we smuggled her onto the field) and I wandered towards Market street to get out of the crowd that thinned with every block and caught buses towards home and her friend's place. Just a fun evening, looking forward to the next one in September.

And then, last night, a revelation in lamb. Delicious. Sarah got some pieces that were too small to serve at her restaurant, but perfect size for us. Leaving the artist to her work, a plate of quinoa with lemon juice and herbs, lamb porterhouse, and delicious greens with a balsamic & dried cherry pan reduction appeared before my exhausted eyes. Incredible.

Also Sunday brought me to the Alameda antique market right at its end. Jaylan and I had some issues since the website gave a location that wasn't correct, so lots of driving around the deserted naval base in a zippy champagne colored mini cooper. So hip. We found interesting things to look at, but nothing to bring home except some odd painted postcards for her, a Moroccan tea table for Sarah. Shala found the best: a gorgeous stained glass lampshade that apparently is worth more than the seller knew. It was about the size of her trunk, luckily she has high ceilings and the space for it in her new pad.

Next adventures for the Grove household include making yogurt, more meat experiments, and my figuring out what I'll be doing for my birthday in two weeks. Huzzah!