Hamburger Haven
Victor is finally at an age where we can almost reasonably go have dinner somewhere together—about the age when I first started to take Vida out for dinner. The difference is that it’s easier to manage one child that slips under the table when that child isn’t pinching the legs of the one still sitting on her seat.
Last Friday night Vida and I picked Victor up at “Muffinville” preschool right at six—just a little late to go home and start dinner. We went around the corner to Clement Street to try out Hamburger Haven. I had no idea how old school this place would be even after Rara mentioned that she went there as a kid in the ‘70’s. We walk in to all original décor including green vinyl swivel chairs at a long counter and matching tiny two person booths lining the window. In the back were some larger tables and some “order up” heat lamps above a round counter in the center of the restaurant. I couldn’t even imagine the place being busy enough to need those heat lamps but there they were. When we walked in there was a lone middle-aged Chinese man sitting in one of the small booths. The older Chinese woman working the tables seemed to look at us coldly like she couldn’t believe we were actually walking in the door. This is worth noticing because it is very San Francisco for an old diner to be run by folks not wearing their hair in a bun and smacking gum while they take your order. I got the feeling not many children were brought here any more. I could tell by the frozen vegetables being dished up for the only other diner in the restaurant that I wouldn’t be having a particularly culinary experience—but we came for burgers anyway. Vida was immediately thrilled by the counter seating but Victor was already restless and slipping to the floor—I was tempted to just to turn around and walk out but instead quickly ordered a plain burger with pickles on the side for Vida and a cheese burger for Vic and I to share. The cook plopped the pre-formed patty on the grill and threw some potatoes in the fryer.
Our burger could have come out of a kitchen anywhere in the country—an open-faced sesame seed bun sat next to a slice of pale tomato and a large lettuce leaf accompanied by some very greasy French fries. But Vida seemed happy and Victor was actually making yummy noises—although he tends to put that on a little. I have the same dilemma with Victor as I did with Vida—soda or no soda. The soda is a terrible thing but it also buys me some time to eat so I gave in this time. Victor wanted it poured into the coffee cup.
As we started our dinner some other patrons started coming in—a older blind woman and her partner came in and asked loudly what was “good tonight”. The cook quietly said fish and she said that sounded fine. They headed toward the back to the larger tables. Soon after an almost hipster couple of guys came in and ordered a patty melt on white bread and a veggie burger. The bread and some pre-sliced cheese went on the grill as the cook formed some tuna into a neat square. I looked up and noticed another employee organizing little boxes of Kellogg’s cereal on a mirrored shelf next to banana split and parfait glasses. I couldn’t imagine anybody ordering a sundae but they were prepared anyway.
I drank most of Victor’s soda and when he finally noticed that there was none left he started to have a fit. The server noticed and offered FREE REFILLS!!! I was starting to warm up to her. The Chinese man had finished his meal and she went over to ask him how it was and give him the bill—he murmured, “tell Victor next time no sour cream”. She dutifully went to the cook and relayed the message. He said ok and sorry as if he really should have known because he eats there every day. I couldn’t help but mention to “Victor” that he shared a name with our Victor. He was thrilled and both him and the server perked up a bit. As we were leaving she commented on how healthy the children were and that “my son” meaning Vida was so strong. Aaargh, I hate when people do that to Vida—especially with the cute little turquoise earrings in her ears. But she more than made up for it giving her a hug and a squeeze around the shoulders and a vehement apology—much more than she usually gets in that kind of situation. We walked out thinking they were some of the friendliest people we had come across in a restaurant in a long time--but we wouldn’t go back for the food.
Restaurant total: 257
