Every visit to San Francisco I've had feels inadequate—not because the city has little to offer but because it always feels like I've barely scratched the surface. I get the feeling that there's this city that's just waiting for me to fall in love with it, if only I had the time to plumb its depths.

The bits and pieces I've seen of San Francisco hint at a city with all the ingredients to lure me in and keep me interested. I like how it has a distinct look. Those pant-inducing, oh-so-steep streets traversed by the occasional cable car and bordered by Italianate-style homes fashioned out of pastel-colored wood are quintessentially San Francisco.

Just like the people that I'm drawn to, San Francisco has a distinct identity but at the same time gives a sense of being of the world. I love the city's diversity; turn a corner and the Italianate rowhouses give way to red lanterns and ornate pagodas (and if you're lucky, they'll pave the way to some scrumptious Dungeness crabs like those served here).

It's one of those places that make you wish you were built with several stomachs. I stared longingly at the porchetta being sliced up at Roli Roti and contemplated the mysterious dragon's tongue tempura at Namu. But I still chose to line up at Hapa Ramen and order the Big Daddy Ramen, for which I was richly rewarded. In a broth thick with the flavor of dashi and seaweed, I found tender slices of slow cooked pork and chunks of karaage chicken—which I could eat with the clearest conscience a meat-eater can have, knowing the animals in the broth were ethically sourced and probably enjoyed sunshine and grass before meeting their maker. It was my first time to encounter vegetables like these in my ramen—locally sourced crisp cucumber slices, peppery arugula, and pieces of sweet corn—and I liked the freshness imparted to the very rich soup. The ramen itself is perfectly chewy and handmade. To top it all off: a beautifully slow cooked egg and an extra order of cured lardo (because why the hell not). I'm pretty sure I was swaying slightly when I stopped by to rave about the ramen to Chef/owner Richie Nakano, as I was quickly lapsing into an epic food coma. A glass of spicy ginger beer at Soda Craft thankfully did the trick in easing all that rich food into my stomach.

After two trips to San Francisco, there's so much more left to see, taste and experience. But I'll bide my time; when the time is right, it will happen. But I can tell this can be the start of, at the very least, a beautiful friendship.