Besieged by a lingering cold, my sense of taste has been rendered null and void. At times like these, I feel like time slows to a crawl and I pass my colorless days in shadow, a meager shell of a woman. Alright, perhaps I hyperbolize, but when I lose my god-given right to enjoy eating it can seem pretty grim.
I only have a few days left in SF, which leaves me with maybe only a dozen or so meal opportunities... will I be up to the task??