I was in San Francisco for exactly 25 and a half hours this past weekend, and fortunately made it to the superb Hayes Valley spot, Bar Jules. Its girly-girl staff looked like they were playing restaurant instead of running one: The cooks in the open kitchen set out their mise en place in bright yellow, orange and red bowls; servers wore colorful printed aprons, lacy tops and chunky necklaces. Surprisingly, the food was just as perfect as everything looked. My Sunday brunch of oozy fried eggs and sweet stewed Early Girl tomatoes (geniusly) topped with supercrispy breadcrumbs and fried capers was the clincher—Bar Jules is now on my short list of best brunch spots ever, along with New York City's Prune and Five Points.