When it's July and the city's not even breaking 60, the wind is blowing and the sky is seamless and white, there's only one thing to do: Seek comfort.
I'm not the only patriotic soul who finds this in a classic Chinese-American restaurant. Which is why when I'm glum I always end up at Jade Cafe on Geary Street, only a block from work—me, and it seems half of the people who work in Union Square. Some are Neiman Marcus employees in suits, some are in construction. One regular definitely lives on the streets. Jade is made up of people of all persuasions and colors digging into their comfort with a side of rice, whether it's sweet and sour pork, broccoli beef or General Tsao chicken.