Just to prove that surrealism is alive in SF (or is coming back in these ludicrous times), i attended a beautiful open-house at a killer boutique architecture firm last week. No, that was not the surreal part--nor was the incredible salumi and parmesan wheel spread from Bar Bambino or the Prosecco poured by the nice mustachioed man from Chez Panisse--but the roasted suckling pig presented nakedly on an enormous unfinished wood tabletop within a model-making shop and lit starkly by a single architects' lamp. THAT was surreal.
On consequent visits to make certain that was what i saw, huge slate slabs were added with puddles of coarse mustard and roasted root vegetables--the exact things the pig would have been rooting for had he (she?) not been otherwise occupied at the architects' gathering.
Presentation, they say, is everything. lovely, and kinda shocking.
