Fly with me: Meera Ashish’s travel column

Gazing out of my suite window at the Four Seasons, I laid eyes upon Samovar written in large letters: a tea house, directly opposite. Considering this wasn’t Dubai, where a building that seems so close actually turns out to be miles away, I quickly grabbed my bag and walked into the sunny outdoors of San Francisco. Today, luckily, it wasn’t too windy, well, not for the moment at least. I was at Samovar in under ten minutes, thanks to Googlemaps. I debated sitting outside but there was a slight chill in the air. Inside, I was met by an Asian-influenced tranquility. The sun was streaming in through the large windows. It was the kind of place that inspired me to want to sit for longer, to take out my book and read, especially since the menu had varying tofu-involving dishes, salads, Greek yoghurt desserts and a long list of teas from all over the world. Maybe the sense of inspiration and warmth had something to do with what Samovar is all about. As founder Jesse Jacobs said, “Our mission here — fostering human connection” — and they do that through tea.

I browsed the menu, my eyes immediately drawn to ginger quinoa waffle, “Soft like a pillow, heavenly. Served with fresh fruit and house-made vanilla infused palm nectar.” I simply had to have it. When I ordered this dish, excited about the somewhat health-influenced waffles (probably more psychological), the lady pointed out that they only served them till 3pm. I begged her to double check, even though it was nearing 5pm. She said they would have thrown the batter but went inside just in case. The verdict, when she returned a moment later, was a “Sorry, but we can’t.”

I sighed with disappointment. Perhaps I would try tomorrow morning before my afternoon flight to Dubai, although I had planned a breakfast at another café recommendation five minutes away.

The waitress was still waiting to take my order. “Okay, could I please have this braised tofu over spring greens salad and a soy matcha shake?”

When both arrived, I devoured them instantly. Delicious. But as I left Samovar an hour later, I realised the problem with not being able to get something I had wanted was that I craved it even more — not the first time I’d realised this, of course. And then, ignoring this craving, going to the Crossroads Café the next morning and having a delicious bagel (not only was the food good, but Crossroads Café is a training school of the Delancey Street Foundation, the country’s largest self-help residential educational centre for people who have hit bottom to completely rebuild their lives) not having any time or space left for the quinoa waffle, I left the city feeling a little hard done by.

If only I had listened to the little voice that had crept inside my mind yesterday and satisfied that craving, I might have left San Francisco with a sense of satisfaction. But I now had something I had left undone, for which I would need to return.

The wind was in its usual spirits when I walked back to the hotel. It was time for a boxing class at the super-sized gym connected to the hotel. With a gym spanning four floors and a plethora of exercise classes, it would be downright wrong not to use Sports Club LA when it shared the same building as the Four Seasons. And so my final three days in San Francisco moved from food-obsessiveness to a gym-obsessiveness — I had vowed last week to work off all that divine vegan food — and I ended up spending more time at the hotel, simply because the suite at the Four Seasons was so homely yet grand and spacious that not spending time at the hotel would be reprimanding. That’s not to say I did nothing else — being at the centre of all the major shops, I did venture out for a bit of sale shopping, but nothing else.

And while I think about returning to the foggy city at some point and visiting Samovar before 3pm, I will try making the quinoa waffles at home. Let’s see how they turn out.