I was so very gleeful. I don't think I've been this exuberant since that guy gave me a Flintstone-sized rib fresh off the BBQ at the Ad Hoc party (he did it for a hug). Or when we were about to get out of the car to go to the French Laundry.
I think I squealed in Tartine.
Tartine is the stuff of legends and I'm glad I got to visit the bakery itself after a baseball game Saturday. Another SF establishment to cross off the "must-visit" list!
We were there around 7 PM and walked right in. My friend told me that never happens. That there's always a line around the block. There was probably no line because they were out of morning buns, but I was able to snag the LAST country loaf. I felt like I had won some bread lottery. For just $8.50, I got a loaf of bread twice the size of my head. It smelled and looked heavenly.
Husband got a macaroon and I impulse-bought a tub of chocolate pudding at the register.
I don't trust myself in bakeries.