I love a good block party, and the one in Fillmore on Friday was a banging good time with plenty of holiday spirit.
The sun had set and the street was thick with folks lining up at food trucks by the time I arrived, with everyone browsing the vendors or milling around the main stage. An emcee worked the crowd up front and Santa Claus minded everyone else on the ground.
This is the second year for the holiday finale on that island stretch of O’Farrell between Fillmore and Steiner streets. The parties themselves have been going each Friday night since October and have been an excellent appetizer for the Saturday morning farmer’s markets, and crowds seem to justify making it a year-round swing.
Kicking off the evening was a kid’s fashion show, replete with toddlers strutting in their Sunday best, sunglasses and fedora and all; others, I think, entered at the last minute armed with whatever puffer jacket and courage they had at the time. All were applauded, of course. I’ll take in a runway show in a Fillmore plaza over one in a Paris galleria any day.
Rolling over the back seats, thick as fog, was a cloud of aroma from the food trucks. You might have had pulled pork, braised ribs and smoked sausage links from Papa Rudy’s BBQ and On the Ground Catering; Italian soul food from Romes Kitchen. Also not to be missed: piping hot Dungeness crab gumbo, a twist even New Orleans cannot offer, served up by Sir Hands Street Food. Not as redolent but equally tasty: coma-inducing ice cream treats from the Geez Freeze. Give them a follow to find out where they’re all turning up next.
If I hadn’t ducked into Japantown on the way for a quick ramen, I would have sampled one of everything. But SF’s a great place where you can get bone-warming hakata tonkotsu one block, and on the next find gumbo so rich with filé powder that your nose tingles five feet away.
A lawnmower-locomotive puttered around the venue with a train of kiddoes and parents in tow. Stepping out of its way, you might have stumbled into a flurry of faux-snow, a local vendor booth hawking last-minute Christmas gifts or the lap of the St. Nick himself, who drew young and old for selfies.
Local gospel singer Ashling Cole began the headliners segment with holiday tunes, but after some audience requests and the appearance of an “anointed and appointed” lightning-to-USB dongle, the evening swung into a full revival. Gospel music and message flowed from the stage, the crowd swaying and singing along with Cole’s voice and accompanying choir from her phone.
Walking back up Bush Street, I could hear the sonorous, soulful tunes of “O, Holy Night” echoing off the buildings and into the evening stars. I’m not sure how other performers fared later in the evening, but it was a hard act to follow. The Fillmore is feeling good these days.
M. T. Eley is a San Francisco-based writer.
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