WELL SIR, there went a year that I was somewhat sort of happy to see the end of. Maybe I shouldn't say that, but I did, so OK. You can't go down to the beach and burn stuff and drink bottles of wine like I've done every year on New Year's Eve night for the past 10 years. You can still have a bonfire on the beach, but now there are too many rules, like you have to stay between Lincoln and Fulton, and you can't have alcohol.

This year more than any other year I needed to drink. And I needed to burn stuff. I won't renumerate the blows. My columns are all archived online. Or better yet, just open the San Francisco Chronicle sports section and look at the final football standings. Last time the 49ers finished this bad I was in high school. I don't know, I can't remember if they were ever the worst team in the league.

If life were conducted like the NFL, those of us who had bad years one year would get to pick first in the following year's draft. I don't know where I fall in relation to everyone else, but if the guys who invented South Park are still available when it comes down to my turn, I'll take them.

That was one of 2004's bright spots: for six months almost I got to live in a house with free cable and free TiVo. So I got to watch South Park all the time, and without commercials.

In 2004, none of my chickens got killed.

What else? Well, the Red Sox – what they did to the Yankees. But that was mostly a vicarious thrill, 'cause it sure wasn't the Indians. I got over some things: my fear of death and Birkenstocks.

But if I keep counting my blessings, I might fall asleep, according to a song, and there's too much work to be done. For example, I want to tell you about a downtown place called Banana's before I forget. My New Year's resolutions this year, like everyone else's, are more or less the same ones they were last year and the year before and so on: to spend more time talking about food when I'm writing about food, and, when I'm not, to develop a drinking problem.

One of the last bad days I had last year involved a trip downtown to consult with a lawyer. Afterwards, looking to drown my sorrows with something lunchish, I stumbled into this goofy Thai-American food cafeteria on Pine Street between Front and Sansome. Banana's.

All along one wall of the place there are various ordering stations. What're you in the mood for? They have standard American breakfast, served all day, breakfast sandwiches, hamburgers, a Hof Brau sandwich menu, rotisserie chickens, ham, pork, turkey, and pot roast.

Then they have a whole menu of standard Thai stuff, which you can either order made-to-order or cafeteria style from the steam table. The special deal is two things plus rice and salad for $6.25. The hard part for me was finding two things that I wanted. Maybe it had been a particularly crunchy lunch crunch, but it couldn't have been later than 12:30 and most of the bins were either empty or, worse, almost empty. Or worse still: tofu.

I stalled around waiting for something to come out of the kitchen. Then I stopped stalling and started pointing. I got yellow curry chicken – that was the no-brainer, because it was the fullest, freshest-looking bin. Then I got pad thai with chicken in it. That was the mistake, because I was already getting rice. Rice was part of the deal. Why did I need noodles? I don't even like pad thai.

Anyway, it wasn't bad. The yellow curry was pretty good, even the salad was good. And it was more food than I could finish. So I was going to have a little something going for me for lunch next day.

For dinner – but first, let me tell you a thing I did between lunch and dinner. I did a thing I never do, which, in itself, is not such a bad idea. In fact, I think it's going to be my battle cry for 2005. I got in my car, and I drove to San Jose. Traffic was terrible.

When I got there, I asked two guys walking down the sidewalk for directions to the nearest post office. I'd decided I had better do something while I was in San Jose. So I went to the post office, and then I drove back up to San Francisco. At rush hour.

Traffic was terrible. I got off of 101 at the Brisbane exit and took Bayshore Boulevard. There was Cliff's, so I stopped. I haven't had Cliff's barbecue in years and years. Or months and months, at any rate.

I ordered a half a chicken to go, broke into my old house, Crawdad's house, and ate in front of the TV. Crawdad was in Mexico. Weirdo-the-Cat was upstairs, in the closet. On TV: South Park, and South Park, and South Park.

Banana's. 191 Pine (at Sansome), S.F. (415) 433-3388. Mon.-Fri., 6 a.m.-3 p.m. Takeout and catering available. No alcohol. American Express, MasterCard, Visa. Wheelchair accessible.

Email Dan Leone

Dan Leone is the author of Eat This, San Francisco (Sasquatch Books), a collection of Cheap Eats restaurant reviews, and The Meaning of Lunch (Mammoth Books).