By Molly Ditmore
Living in Potrero Hill feels like keeping a secret. There are no undiscovered neighborhoods in San Francisco, but residents of the Hill have something special. Perched on the southeast side of the city, it’s on the way to nowhere. It feels isolated from the rest of town despite the street theater of the 22 Fillmore bus zigzagging to its terminus on Third Street. We have sweeping city views with a perfectly framed downtown skyline. The ships on the bay and the blinking lights of Oakland are part of the show.
Think of it as Mayberry by the Bay.
People who live here spend their time here. The neighborhood feels alive during the day despite being mostly residential. There is a steady sidewalk culture of people coming and going. There are just enough amenities that I can walk out my door to buy wine, take the littles to a park, or sit at a sidewalk table for lunch. I have lived in the Castro, Cole Valley, Mission, South of Market and Hayes Valley — all bustling and vibrant parts of town —but none of them felt as homey as Potrero Hill.
I have lived on the same block for 10 years, but that’s nothing compared to some of my neighbors. People here are lifers. My husband, daughter and I are only the second family to live in our house since it was built in 1910. The friendly guy up the street bought his home from his grandparents, who bought the house in 1920. He says over the course of his lifetime he’s had a meal in every house on our block.
It’s quiet here. Some days the loudest things I hear are the daredevil skateboarders bombing downhill. Occasionally, teenagers joyride on blue recycling bins, coming to an abrupt halt around Mariposa Street. Cyclists consider steep Connecticut Street a badge of honor; I usually stop around 18th Street and push my way up. The Hill isn’t one to brag, but the real crookedest drive in San Francisco is Vermont Street, where the Big Wheel Races take place each spring.
San Francisco movie scenes that need a view are usually shot from the Hill. Everything from Steve McQueen’s car chase in Bullitt to street scenes in the latest Godzilla movie to forgettable commercials have been filmed here. I like the camera crews. San Francisco is the jewel of American cities and is well represented in film and popular culture.
At least one day a week you can find me perched on a stool at Chez Maman, with my nose in a book, enjoying a frisée salad and a glass of rosé or a burger with Brie and a side of the best fries in town. Other times I’m at Sunflower, where they know I don’t like cilantro in my pho. When I haven’t visited in a while, the proprietors ask where I’ve been. It’s nice having people know my name and remember what I order.
(Plow)
Monday nights are all-you-can-eat at Goat Hill Pizza, with big groups crowding the sidewalk. People who like standing in line for brunch love Plow, where there is a long wait even on a Tuesday morning. Its success is well deserved, and the food is good, but I’m just as happy with a breakfast burrito from Hazel’s, eaten at a table at the 18th Street parklet.
Potrero Hill is for readers. The San Francisco Public Library on 20th Street has the best free view in town with a back wall of windows overlooking the skyline. I like to sit in the leather chairs with a stack of magazines and my headphones turned down to an acceptable level to blot out the no-longer-quiet library din. The conference rooms host small classes in creative writing and leather crafts. When my daughter was a baby, we spent Tuesdays sitting on the floor singing nursery rhymes and flipping through board books. And there is a seed library on the first floor where people donate and borrow plant seeds that grow in the particular microclimate of the Hill—just another of the many ways San Francisco continually charms me.
(Farley’s)
Before a trip to the beach or a plane flight I head to Farley’s Coffee for magazines. It has a great selection of imported fashion magazines as well as niche publications for just about any interest. This place is a real neighborhood gathering spot, hence the slogan “Community in a Cup.” Farley’s sponsors the delightful Halloween Pet Parade, which is one of those “How San Francisco can you be?” affairs. I’m afraid someone might take away my Potrero Hill resident card for saying this, but since Farley’s changed coffee roasters a few years ago, well, let’s just say I order tea.
Down the street is Christopher’s Books. It has a great selection of books for children, which is the one gift I will give because kids need more opportunities to read. And books need bookstores, so I try to shop here instead of online. I’ve never discovered a fantastic novel on Amazon, but I have stumbled upon some greats while browsing Christopher’s.
Earlier today, I traversed the neighborhood with my little brown dog, stopping at the community garden next to the 280 Mariposa off-ramp. Potrero Hill represents the paradox of San Francisco, how life changes from block to block or from one side of a hill to the other. The northern and southern slopes of the Hill are disconnected by dead-end streets. Two of the city’s last remaining housing projects are just on the other side of the ridge, situated with sideways roads that don’t connect to the rest of the city.
There are some throwbacks to a time when this was a working-class neighborhood. The Potrero View newspaper is delivered to my door each month, detailing upcoming development in the area and community meetings. Small cottages with bright, crumbling paint sit next to newly redone two-story homes. An old church that housed the Pickle Family Circus in the 1970s still provides a practice space to performers. I occasionally hear a drummer pounding on the other side of the walls. And if I need a rock ’n’ roll fix, Thee Parkside and Bottom of the Hill are walking distance on 17th Street.
(Thee Parkside)
This is still city life. Potrero Hill has home burglaries and car break-ins like the rest of our urban neighbors. This gold rush town is a place of flux, and I know that means my slice of it will change too. Down at the base of the Hill, old warehouses are being torn down to build multistory residential buildings. Down on Third Street, the Dogpatch is adding new restaurants and revamping buildings. Change is happening all over town. But this is my love letter to my Potrero Hill, and I have no complaints.
More Bold Italic neighborhood love letters here.
