Though I work for the gayest company in the world (no, not that one … or that one), the lunch options in the neighborhood are far from fabulous. Sure, the occasional chicken-avocado sandwich from Piperade‘s takeaway window is a delight, and I don’t hate the sammies at Il Fornaio too much, but there’s a reason I end up eating salad from RJ’s Market pretty much every day of the week, and it has nothing to do with watching my girlish figure.
So when a coworker tipped me off to Cafe Myth, the casual lunchery adjacent to the eponymous restaurant, you just know I had to slap on a pair of sensible pumps and sashay down there.
Cafe Myth sits amidst the brick-façade edifices of the Jackson Square Historic District, among the oldest sections of the city, and one of the few areas of downtown not utterly obliterated in the 1906 quake and fires. In fact, one building in the area famously survived the post-quake inferno:
If, as some say, God spanked the town
For being over frisky,
Why did He burn the churches down
And save Hotaling’s whiskey?
Amen, sister, because lord knows this town needed a good drink after all that.
Jackson Square used to be the city’s premier design and antiques district, which you’d think would make for some good lunchtime shopping. But, with the growth of the Design Center and Showplace Square, this area has slowly but systematically been taken over by another design industry; architecture and graphic design firms now occupy many structures in the area. Cafe Myth reflects that shift with its handsomely mod interior.
And sure, while I’d like to linger over a postprandial stroll through a few art and antiques galleries, let’s face it: Architects and graphic designers are just kind of a more attractive breed, hmm kay?
Oh yeah, and they’ve got food. My first visit, on an uncommonly warm and sunny late-winter’s day, I had a salad of hearts of romaine with quinoa, feta, pancetta and a meyer lemon vinaigrette. It maybe wasn’t the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen, two might wedges slathered in roe-like superfood grains, but it was exactly what I was looking for on such a sultry afternoon. Next time around, I felt a tad more opulent, and opted for a slice of quiche lorraine with carrot-ginger soup with crispy sweetbreads. Crispy sweetbreads? Dorothy, we are not in Kansas anymore!
OK, so a lunch here will set you back a solid Hamilton, more if you find room for dessert, and it is for me a goodly 10-minute schlep from the office. But in the dull droning of repetitive lunchtime salads in my vicinity, lemme tell ya miss thang: Myth sang.
490 Pacific (at Montgomery)