You may have loudly professed your love for food trucks. You may tweet with the utmost convincing gravitas about Occupy SF. You may like to gnaw on a sourdough loaf while taking a tour of urban-tinged street art. You may be a bottle of Fernet. You may even be Herb Caen reincarnate. But you are not a true San Franciscan until you've sat through multiple screenings of The Joy Luck Club. With much respect for Amy Tan's book—an excellent read, by the way—the film version of her acclaimed novel about relationships between Chinese-American women and their Chinese mothers is quite possibly one of the best pieces of entertainment ever made.

And it's so very San Francisco. Why, it's got everything:

- A superb Tsai Chin bragging about her daughter around Chinatown

- An astounding Russian Hill apartment in which to mourn gorgeously next to a bevy of bay windows

- Mahjong

- W-a-a-a-verly Jong ("Joon, we decided to go in another direction. Your drawings weren't sophisticated enough")

- A modern Potrero Hill pad with a dick husband who makes you split the cost of ice cream

- Chocolate peanut butter pie

- A noteworthy piano teacher ("Z Major!")

- "My son says he's planted enough seeds in you to fill a basket"

- Worst quality crab

- Best quality heart

- Andrew McCarthy

While it might be too late to order on Amazon in time for Christmas, it should be readily available at your nearest Target or Best Buy. Below: One of the most memorable scenes from The Joy Luck Club. Best quality, indeed.