“You can leave your umbrella at the door,” says the hostess as she sashays toward the table I have reserved, no doubt expecting me to follow. I hesitate. “Can I really leave the umbrella unattended?” This is San Francisco, the city I left after three car break-ins in one year. No, not just San Francisco – this is the Mission District, and gentrifying or not, it’s one of a few spots where the desperate will smash windshields hoping for spare change.

As the area’s first neighborhood, the Mission has lived through several incarnations. Well before the gold rush put the Bay Area on the map, padres trekked up from Mexico converting locals on their way and, with their help, built Mission Dolores, the oldest building in the city. Over the years, it has been home to various waves of working-class immigrants and – in addition to being the sunniest part of town – the Mission has been best known for its rough appearance, greasy spoons and the colorful murals that have been springing up since the 1920s.

My friend Brent recently bought a multi-million dollar loft around the corner in this once seedy, now hip and hyped ’hood. Nevermind the guy peeing in between newspaper dispensers or his colleague sleeping on the steps next door. “You’ll need reservations, honey,” Brent told me when I suggested lunch at Luna Park, a popular café that was once home to a butcher shop. Reservations? In the Mission?

Yup. And apparently, it’s so gentrified that patrons feel safe leaving their umbrellas unattended on what could be the rainiest day on record. I look at the umbrella stand, then at my table across the room. I decide to take a chance. I had, after all, passed at least a dozen more chichi bars and restaurants on the way from the train. In between the taquerias and pupuserias, the check cashing stores and the Laundromats, there are enough incredible eateries to make Valencia Street vie for the title of stomach of the city. They’ve got Osha Thai, a sleek Asian bistro with creative twists on traditional favorites; Dosa, a South Indian restaurant with urban style; Ramblas a trendy tapas and cocktail bar; and at least a dozen more of-the-moment establishments like Herb for organic, Radio Habana Social Club for Cuban, and Laszlo or Hush Hush for Sex-and-the-City cocktails and DJ beats. Coffee lovers can choose between the flower-powered Javalencia, a confirmed hipster hangout, or their posh roasting rival Ritual where lounge music and a gallery for emerging artists emphasize the slick but worldly ambience.

Back at Luna Park, I try the monte cristo sandwich with a walnut salad and a side of fresh fruit. Thankfully, it’s an overflowing pile of bananas, pears, grapes, and apples – not just melon filler. The restaurant serves what it calls “California comfort food” with items like oven baked macaroni and cheese, breaded pork cutlet and oven roasted seabass. But it is equally known for its creative cocktails, especially the volcanic scorpion bowl for two – a “mysterious blend of fruit juices and exotic liquors.”

Even without the exotic spirits, I am intoxicated by the neighborhood’s eclectic appeal and eagerly depart for the whimsical 826 Valencia, a nearby writing center/pirate store owned by famed author Dave Eggers, proving the Mission offers as much substance as it does style. A short stroll will reveal everything from independent bookstores to modernist furniture stores to holistic apothecaries. The Marsh Theater presents workshops and experimental shows while the adjacent Mock café hosts budding stand-up comics. Around the block, the Foreign Cinema projects foreign films onto the walls of its restaurant courtyard.

After a lovely lunch at Luna Park, I near the door, and the torrential downpour on the other side of it, and face the inevitable – naturally, my umbrella is gone.

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