Café Maritime
The Scene A good neighborhood seafood restaurant merges anonymously into the onslaught of traffic and noise that is Lombard Street near Scott. Inside, vestiges of the sea permeate, from painted seascapes to wavy lengths of light glass that hide the kitchen from diners' eyes.
The Staff Chef Pepe Pumacayo dishes out raw fruits-de-mer, Maine lobster rolls, and seafood pastas with aplomb. Go for the food, not the service, which on our visit consisted of one college-aged dude who found the specials too difficult to learn anew each night. Uh, okay.
The Stand outs Teeny weeny kumamoto oysters on the half shell are a great introduction to the bivalve; these are tender and creamy with merely a nod to the bright salty sea they once called home. The house salad, a refreshing mix of green beans, radish, avocado and lettuces, comes with a mound of sweet lobster salad piled high on a wedge of toast. The crab cake appetizer boasts nearly no filling and is enough for a meal. Make sure you order the miniature coconut creme pie; once an insider's secret, it's now on the menu and feeds two from its silken insides and crisp, flaky butter crust.
The So whats? The lobster salad in the Maine lobster roll, though good, is a tad too sweet to match my recollections of the original. But if that's the worst I can say, you know you're in pretty good hands.
Café Maritime, San Francisco, 2417 Lombard Street, 415-885-2530
C&L Steak
The Scene A steakhouse with echoes of an old-moneyed gentleman's club (think comfy chairs that have fashionably lost their twinge of newness) and a soupcon of Hemingway's favorite Parisian haunt now occupies the space that once housed the joyless Charles Nob Hill. You almost expect a fire to be burning in one corner of the bar, with droll patrons looking out on the glittering condos with jealousy or pride. Eschew the front room in favor of the back, where golden walls and plush wine-colored banquettes entice you to sit all night long over a glass of wine...and another...and another, till the staff kicks you out.
The Staff Though Aqua titan Laurent Manrique oversees the kitchen, it's southerner and Aqua alum Peter Zoole who's in the kitchen each night. Inspiration comes from both chefs' travels across the U.S., and Zoole's southern roots get their due.
The Stand outs The playful menu takes steakhouse favorites (salads, sides, steak and desserts) on a tour through major U.S. cities and presents them in full regional regalia. You can order soup to nuts from just one town, or city-hop. Denver inspired Zoole to think of cowboys around a campfire, eating beans from a can and brewing coffee over the flames. The resulting rib-eye is rubbed with coffee and served with bean sauce, and make-your-own S'mores are dessert: be careful you don't burn yourself as you roast homemade marshmallows over the hot blue flame. New Orleans' crayfish Caesar salad lets the delicate sweetness of the crustacean shine through, despite an ample coat of finger-lickin' good Bayou heat. Atlanta's caramelized onion grits are a must order, whether you think you like grits or you hate 'em; these are creamy and lush and topped with two light-as-air fried onion rings. And the Boston baked beans, oh my, I nearly licked the dish clean. Molasses and brown sugar sweeten them up while Linguica sausage adds zing. Come to think of it, all the sides are to die for...a meal composed of those alone is swoon-worthy indeed.
The So whats? San Francisco's petite filet in sourdough seems unnecessarily fussy, though the steak itself (from Painted Hills in Oregon) is juicy and flavorful. Denver's chilled iceberg lettuce with smoked mountain trout is lackluster compared to the other salads that pack way more personality and punch.
C&L Steak, San Francisco, 1250 Jones Street, 415-771-5400
Incanto
The Scene The sun bathes this Noe Valley trattoria in a warm glow if you go for an early dinner; the front is entirely framed in window glass. The food takes center stage even when it comes to decoration: a vase of asparagus stands in water on the hostess's desk in lieu of flowers, and the deli case is full of salumi, garlic, chili peppers and onions proudly displayed. The front room is basic with blond wood and dark green curtains, and a tiny back room that looks like a library boasts much of the restaurant's wine collection.
The Staff Chef Chris Cosentino, the second man to run the kitchen, comes by way of Rubicon, Chez Panisse and the now-closed Redwood Park. He includes at least two nightly dishes made of offal, all those bits most Americans think should be thrown in the garbage, because he believes it honors the animal and keeps Old World tradition alive. A word to the habitually late: call ahead and warn them but don't expect niceties. We were told firmly they'd hold the table for 10 minutes - no more. Harumph! Service was good, if perfunctory.
The Stand outs Mr. Food Musings happily ordered the agnolotti with pig's brains - and I happily abstained. The flavor, described as similar to sweetbreads, sounded great, but the texture - runny scrambled eggs - turned me off. (I can vouch for the deep, soothing broth.) Crostini slathered with bright green fava bean puree was paired with roughly chopped strawberries, an unusual - and genius - combination. Salmon crudo was soft and sweet with young green almonds, not quite hard on the inside. Pastas, be they big stretches of handkerchiefs and plentiful pork ragu, or tagliatelle, broccoli rabe, garlic scapes and chili flake, melded flavors perfectly. Our foursome traded bites around the table in a constant game of musical plates, and no one got the raw end of the deal.
The So whats? Not a damn thing. The food was wonderful - inventive, rustic, bursting with flavor and well-priced. The space itself didn't cast much of a spell, but next time you're thinking of Delfina, give Incanto a call instead.
Incanto, San Francisco, 1550 Church Street, 415-641-4500
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