Winter 2023: The Finest Dishes Eater San Francisco Editors Ate This Week

There’s certainly no shortage of excellent food to be found in San Francisco and the Bay Area — but there’s plenty worth skipping, too. Luckily for you, Eater editors dine out several times a week (or more) and we’re happy to share the standout dishes we encounter as we go.

Here’s the best of everything the Eater SF team has eaten recently. Check back weekly for more don’t-miss dishes.

March 31

Combo sandwich on Dutch crunch at Guerra Quality Meats

The Dutch crunch at this local favorite in Parkside is the best I’ve ever had. And if our intel is still correct, that’s likely due to the shared commitment to quality between the family-owned Italian market and their Dutch crunch connect, Costeaux French Bakery, who make the loaves fresh each day and deliver them all the way from Healdsburg. As an East Coaster, this species of bread is still a novelty to me, one we’re hard-pressed to find anywhere outside of the Bay. The sheath of caramelized sugar coating the top of these loaves visually recalls the conchas that line panadería windows back in NYC, but the way crust eviscerates the roof of my mouth upon first bite reminds me of the fresh french bread encasing bánh mì fillings — shatteringly crisp and caving into a pillowy soft interior. I chose to have mortadella, hot coppa, provolone, and the usual suspects slotted into my loaf of Dutch crunch ($11). And if you can resist sinking your teeth in immediately upon leaving the market, I highly recommend carrying your sandwich the short but hilly walk up to Larsen Peak to enjoy al fresco. Guerra Quality Meats, 490 Taravel Street, Parkside, San Francisco

— Nat Belkov, Eater design director

King salmon nigiri with nori butter at Chisai Sushi Club

Lauren Saria

I wasn’t sure what to expect of Chisai Sushi Club, a year-and-a-half-old sushi spot tucked into a small space where the Mission bumps up against Bernal Heights. I knew chef Eric Aplin came into restaurant ownership after working at Ichi, Akikos, and Robin. But a nigiri list that included ingredients like olive oil, blue cheese, and grated sweet onion flummoxed me. I should have had more faith. The 13-course Chisai omakase menu ($90) started with a crab Louie salad and albacore sashimi before rolling into a parade of nigiri. Some trod more familiar territory — think fatty bluefin tuna painted in a soy reduction and vibrant orange sea trout with a dab of yuzu kosho. But my favorite bites resulted from the restaurant’s more nontraditional pairings. I failed to snap a photo of a piece of sweet hirame balanced by grassy olive oil and briny caper and marveled at a beautifully cut piece of akamutsu that dripped in 25-year-aged balsamic and arrived adorned with a tiny mound of sweet onion jam. Of them all, the King salmon nigiri was the runaway hit, starring the prized fish dressed up with a touch of nori butter. Staff delicately torched the whole piece of sushi, before finishing it off with a dash of lemon and big flakes of sea salt. It resulted in an unexpected hit — warm, savory, and well-balanced. For the price point, this has to be one of the more interesting and affordable omakase experiences in town. Chisai Sushi Club, 3369 Mission Street, San Francisco

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Shrimp cake at Tigon

Dianne de Guzman

Sometimes a meal at a family-owned restaurant is just what one needs to soothe the soul, and soothed was exactly how I felt after a meal at Tigon in El Cerrito. I was looking for an open lunch spot at a very-not-lunch hour of 2:30 p.m. and found myself heading to this Vietnamese restaurant, which is open all day. I was feeling indecisive and happened upon this very large rice plate that in essence doubled as a sample platter of Tigon’s offerings. When a server dropped in front of me, the sheer size of it nearly knocked me out: it included a heaping serving of rice, lemongrass chicken, marinated cuts of beef, four spring rolls, and two pieces of shrimp arranged in a very cute heart shape. What stood out the most on the plate was the shrimp cake, which was made with shrimp paste and water chestnuts, and wrapped in tofu skin. The shrimp had a lovely umami flavor with the water chestnuts giving the cake a satisfying soft crunch. The entire cake was fried, allowing the tofu skin to crisp up beautifully and giving it a crunchy exterior that gave way to the shrimp cake interior. Between this fried seafood bite, the lovely service, and thoughtful touches like the heart-shaped shrimp, it was a nice hug of a lunch that really made the entire experience worthwhile (as well as for some tasty leftovers later). Tigon, 10086 San Pablo Avenue, El Cerrito

— Dianne de Guzman, Eater SF deputy editor

Bahia Brazil 70 percent bar from Tiny House Chocolate

Let me count the ways that this Santa Cruz-made treat demonstrates the raw strength of the NorCal chocolate bar game. For starters, the Bahia Brazil bar reads like a chocolate bar, which is to say there’s nothing arcane or esoteric about eating this gold-wrapped rectangle. Moreover, it’s a joy to eat: no waxy, overly-sugary aftertaste one may come to regret after eating the almost-always-worth-it-anyways Reese’s Fastbreak. And speaking of the aftertaste, that’s where this chocolate begins to show its craft roots. Yes, there’s a pleasant sugary riff, but there’s also a cayenne and black pepper kick that lingers. I swear I heard the lilting, rising guitar from Santana’s “Samba Pa Ti” as the spice began to hit. This two-ingredient confection is only $11, which is sort of unheard of for a Bay Area well-made indulgence. I wish I wasn’t so long in the tooth, but I actually will go on about this chocolate: the Catongo cocoa beans come from Lajedo do Ouro, a small farm in Brazil where the owners are the first in the region to invest in this albino, much-rarer varietal. The bar is vegan, nut-free, soy-free, and gluten-free. And, in a time when Santa Cruz has been devastated by severe weather events, it just feels good to give money to local chocolatiers. Tiny House Chocolate, Santa Cruz

— Paolo Bicchieri, Eater SF reporter

March 24

Puffed Beef Tendon at Bull Valley Roadhouse

My brother drove us out to Port Costa the other night for what he promised would be a unique meal in a unique setting. Port Costa, a town of roughly 250, is little more than a strip of buildings nestled off the train tracks by the Carquinez Strait. After ducking into the Warehouse for a game of pool and a cold beer, we headed across the street for a meal that can only be described as a string of hits. We opted to kick things off with this curiously named dish that turned out to be exactly what I was hoping it would be: freshly-fried chicharrón-esque chips ($12) coated in clove and anise-heavy “pho spice” that crackled and spit like a hot flame when doused in lime juice. Little gems salad with kumquat followed, as did a litany of center-stage-worthy sides. The only miss of this meal for me — and a partial save by the pile of snappy pickled vegetables served alongside at that — was the hot chicken. I know there’s a hot chicken craze sweeping the nation right now, but if I’m seeing “Nashville hot” on the menu, I’m banking on the level of heat to deliver. Instead, I would’ve rather slurped down a bowl of the pork stew with tomatillos, guajillos, and polenta that mysteriously disappeared around the same time this entrée showed up. Bull Valley Roadhouse, 14 Canyon Lake Drive, Port Costa

– Nat Belkov, Eater design director

Tea leaf salad at Inle Burmese Cuisine

Paolo Bicchieri

Fava beans have no business going as hard as they do. To be sure, the simple legume doesn’t always do work; I can’t speak to that unfortunate version your uncle made you endure in fourth grade. But Inle Burmese Cuisine, the Noe Valley favorite with a second location in the Inner Sunset, swaddles the ingredient in so many delightful spices and vegetables that the bean shows up as not a team player, but as the Larry Bird of the entire dish. There’s a satisfying crunch in every bite of this famous Burmese meal — a top choice for everyone from diplomats to college students in Myanmar — thanks to Inle’s recipe calling for a splendid quantity of peanuts. A tractor-sized slice of lime makes sure there’s plenty of zingy citrus to go around, and a Salt Bae-proportioned dash of sesame seeds layers more rich nuttiness beneath the peanuts. I took mine vegetarian, meaning sans fish sauce in this case, which gave the garlic and jalapeno more chance to shine. While Burma Superstar captures the hearts of many craving tea leaf salads, I have to say the $16 rendition at Inle is a top-tier contender for my favorite in San Francisco. The dish’s primary sauce is an “imported Burmese tea leaf dressing,” code for not-gonna-tell. But that’s alright, as this three-year-old business is keeping longtime fans and newcomers like myself asking for more. Inle Burmese Cuisine, 822 Irving Street, San Francisco

— Paolo Bicchieri, Eater SF reporter

Porchetta sandwich at Fatted Calf

Lauren Saria

The sun was actually shining on a recent weekday, so I took advantage of the break in the rain for an al fresco midday meal at the Ferry Building with a friend. And even though I’m constantly craving the gloriously decadent and simple jamon et truffle buerre sandwich from Fatted Calf’s kiosk, I forced myself to break out of my lunch rut to try something new — specifically, the butcher shop’s porchetta number. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that this sandwich sidesteps any preconceived notions you might have had about the Italian specialty. Fatted Calf slices their porchetta into thin sheets, then stacks them with a bushel of fragrant and fresh herbs, plus a handful of pickled vegetables. It’s basically a banh mi by way of Italy making it nothing like soppy, fatty porchetta sandwiches with which you may be familiar. This sandwich smacks of spring, bursting with an abundance of fresh parsley and mint, and borrowing some lift from that stack of acidic little pickled carrots. As a bonus, the sturdy Acme baguette soaks up the extra pickle juices so if you, like me, opt to use your knees as a table for your meal, there’s significantly less chance of making a mess. All in all, an ideal dish to enjoy waterside in the sun. Fatted Calf, 1 Ferry Building, Ste 13, in San Francisco

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Toro temaki at Tancho

Dianne de Guzman

Given the wide swath of towns and cities that make up the Bay Area, there are always places that wind up being less traveled in my day-to-day. Such is the case with Castro Valley. So when I heard about Tancho, a stellar sushi restaurant offering seasonal omakase and takeout bento boxes from its strip mall location, I had to go. The dinner started with aka ebi, or Argentine red shrimp, in ponzu sauce and with orange uni, caviar, and a tiny bit of gold flake for show. Then the parade of sushi began including a sashimi plate with Antarctic butterfish, Spanish mackerel, and firefly squid, plus hirame, or olive flounder, nigiri. But the best dish came toward the end: a toro hand roll. The tuna was tender, and the hand roll also included bits of takuan, or pickled Japanese daikon radish. Orange ankimo, or monkfish liver, was carefully shaved on top to add a creamy-savory flavor to the toro, plus a sprinkling of hanaho flowers that gave the roll a bright splash of purple while granting a mild shiso flavor. It’s worth noting each hand roll was made one by one for our group, with our server shaving ankimo over each before handing it over and moving on to the next roll — and while that left us watching the process in anticipation, it was done to ensure the nori stayed crisp when eaten. Indeed, the nori retained its perfect snap (we were instructed not to wait for the others), but the move also underscored how much care went into the meal and makes me look forward to my next visit. Tancho, 20861 Redwood Road, Castro Valley

— Dianne de Guzman, Eater SF deputy editor

March 17

Tocilog at Kusina Ni Tess

I finally booked a much-anticipated trip out to San Francisco to visit friends and family and enjoy as much of the bounty that is the Bay Area’s food scene as I possibly could. Hopping off a transcontinental red eye, I wandered around in search of a hearty breakfast, and the homey scents wafting off the steam tables at this tiny Tenderloin joint carried me through the door. I landed on one of Kusina Ni Tess’s signature silogs ($13) — this one with tocino, the staple Filipino breakfast meat made of cured, simmered, and seared pork belly or shoulder that often accompanies fragrant garlic rice and a fried egg. The restaurant’s version hit all the right sweet and sour notes, with a tender yet bark-like texture. I couldn’t resist snagging a side of lumpia ($5) — and thanked myself for doing so as these were served piping hot, their paper-thin skins, shatteringly crisp. Not only was the food outstanding, but the kindness of the proprietor and cook staff also reminded me of the type of hospitality I’ve always loved about San Francisco, setting me in the right mindset to kick off my trip. Kusina Ni Tess, 237 Ellis Street, San Francisco

— Nat Belkov, Eater design director

Paccheri neri and fresh-picked Dungeness crab at Delfina

Lauren Saria

Broadly speaking, restaurants tend to fall into one of two categories. There are those hot new spots with menus ripe with trendy ingredients and buzzy cooking techniques. And there are classics, the places with menus of tried-and-true hits, the restaurants that decline to bend to the whims of today’s latest inclinations. But a few special places manage to fall somewhere in between. They’ve both proven their staying power and strive to feel fresh despite their respectable age. Delfina Restaurant, the nearly 25-year-old Cal-Italian pioneer on 18th Street, embodies this, with its menu that honors its stars (think the bright and perfectly acidic spaghetti pomodoro and tender grilled Monterey Bay calamari) while also offering something new on every occasion. The restaurant’s selection of fresh pasta should be recognized as some of the finest in the city and on a recent visit the standout dish highlighted the kitchen’s pasta-making skill while spotlighting a seasonal delicacy. Thick tubes of paccheri, turned charcoal-colored thanks to onxy squid ink, allowed just the right amount of al dente bite and sported a light coat of white wine and tomato sauce, just a little bit brazen thanks to its delicate chili kick. The pièce de résistance? Coin-sized chunks of sweet Dungeness crab meat, the exactly right size and sweetness to put the whole dish in perfect harmony. Delfina Restaurant, 3621 18th Street, San Francisco

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Slutty jook from Virgo Supperclub

Paolo Bicchieri

There’s a simple, paper bowl of jook in the Bay Area that contains — in just one cafeteria-style scoop — a mosaic of textures and rich, heart-warming flavors. Lara Ortiz-Luis and Garrett Schlichte run the perky Virgo Supperclub, in all its backyard dinner party splendor, and their $14 slutty jook matches the brash name with outrageously addictive flavor. Koshikari rice, with a ginger chili broth and scallion ginger jam, works as the base for a parade of fried shallots, kimchi, cilantro, and a breeze of yellow and orange flowers. Those crunchy bits on top complement the soupy foundation, making sure the dish isn’t overwhelmingly gruel-y. The ginger does a lot of work but doesn’t beat you over the head, either. I took my jook vegan, leaving a litany of optional $2 add-ons on the side, but I still made sure to include the toasted black sesame and curry miso. Each unctuous bite was better than the last. The accompanying cocktail, a $12 lady grey ginger, is available booze-free and tastes like a fancy toddy in a tuxedo, a wedge of lemon serving as its top hat. I must recommend this porridge as a tonic for the current windy and cold weather. I couldn’t get enough, and if I were a millionaire I would’ve bought the whole pot. Virgo Supperclub, rotating pop-ups through the Bay Area

— Paolo Bicchieri, Eater SF reporter

Dungeness Crab in Purgatory from the Anchovy Bar

Dianne de Guzman

I’m apparently on my annual quest to eat as much crab as I can during Dungeness season, and while I’ve yet to hit up any of the required local spots for the crustacean, I do find myself gravitating toward any and all crab dishes I happen upon during my routine of visiting restaurants each week. That was how I found my latest crab dish, tempting me from the Anchovy Bar menu on a (somehow) dry, almost-spring night this week. There were plenty of reasons why this dish remains on my mind: there were the lumps of sweet Dungeness crab, of course, but when combined with Hodo yuba noodles, fermented chile turnips, and crunchy garlic breadcrumbs, the ingredients sang together making for a lovely, harmonious dish. The use of yuba noodles felt like a smart move and gave the dish a soft texture and taste that paired well with the crab, much more so than a traditional pasta might otherwise impart. As ever, the additional crunch of the breadcrumbs pushed the dish into a delightful territory, giving the noodles and crab a one-two punch of both texture and garlicky goodness. For a secondary treat, as my very smart dining partner told me, always order the chip and dip at Anchovy Bar — this week’s version was a smoked trout roe dip with Kennebec potato chips dosed with Mendocino nori. Both were excellent, all around. The Anchovy Bar, 1740 O’Farrell Street, San Francisco

— Dianne de Guzman, Eater SF deputy editor

March 10

Choriqueso from Tacos El Patron

Paolo Bicchieri

An umami bomb doesn’t need an introduction: a rich and flavorful explosion of that caliber simply combusts, arriving in a flash and reverberating for miles. Such is the first bite of the choriqueso at the Mission District’s Tacos El Patron, a cast iron tray of adorable proportion with an outsize punch of decadent depth. At $9.75 this item is, beyond its supreme flavor profile, a total steal. It’s literally melted cheese and a generous scoop of chorizo combined for your eating pleasure, a riff on queso fundido. The cheese pull alone is jaw-dropping. Four oily and warm tortillas come alongside the tiny trough and are must-haves for the dish; a wise diner orders — at the least — rice and beans as critical accouterments. And yes a savvy shopper goes for a few tacos with nopales on the side, free when one gets two or more tacos. But just spoonfuls of this spiced choriqueso is a treat, the same joy as digging into a jar of crunchy peanut butter at 2 a.m. Some San Franciscans lost track of this Tijuana-style restaurant given its opening date just months before the COVID lockdowns hit the city, but the Pleasant Hill-born business remains a high watermark of Bay Area cheesy triumphs. Quesabirria might not be the trendy food item of the day, but only a fool would see the packed dining area of Tacos El Patron at the end of Van Ness Avenue and look the other way. And the choriqueso is the cream of the ooey-gooey crop. Tacos El Patron, 1500 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco

— Paolo Bicchieri, Eater SF reporter

Prime rib at House of Prime Rib

Dianne de Guzman

Even at the end of a long week, there are still a few classic San Francisco restaurants that will shake me out of my longing for a night at home. So when someone says they have an extra seat at their table for House of Prime Rib, you don’t think about it — you just go. That’s how I found myself driving through the rain with prime rib on my brain. I haven’t been to HoPR since pre-pandemic times, and I was happy to find that all is still well with this Van Ness Avenue institution. It’s a place that knows what it’s doing and offers few choices because they know better than you — and I’m perfectly happy with that. The perfect meal begins with a gin martini, served in its shaker, before ordering an appetite-appropriate (or inappropriate, who am I to say) cut of prime rib. If you’ve ever attempted to make a prime rib on your own at home, you’ll know the time and work that goes into it, which only makes a dinner like this all the more special. Prime rib feels celebratory, it feels fancy, and it really enhances the conviviality of conversation at the table. To have it prepared for you, just how you like it, feels like a warm hug. Dab a little horseradish onto each bite, and the flavors sing together from the sharp spice hit of root vegetable condiment to the savory meat and au jus. Is there a meat heaven? If so, I imagine it would look very similar to House of Prime Rib. House of Prime Rib, 1906 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco

— Dianne de Guzman, Eater SF deputy editor

Grilled Maine scallop at Sons & Daughters

Lauren Saria

These days it’s not all that hard to find a restaurant touting its use of classic cooking techniques — but with a touch of New Nordic influences! — and a commitment to using local ingredients in a sustainable way. But the next time you need to be reminded why exactly it is that so many restaurants put their weight behind this formula, I’d suggest dinner at Nob Hill’s 16-seat Sons & Daughters. Earlier this year owner and chef Teague Moriarty handed over the reins to executive chef Harrison Cheney, who comes to the restaurant and city after cooking at two Michelin-starred Gastrologik in Stockholm. Over three hours and 14 courses Cheney and the team proved again and again that Lacto-fermented broth and sprouted buckwheat and sea salt made from water harvested at the beach less than 10 miles away isn’t just the stuff of the Sussmans memes — it can actually taste really fucking delicious. From a brown butter sauce infused with the skate bones to a vegetable root glaze bolstered with cured wagyu fat, it felt like nearly every dish saw some magical sauce spooned on top, often tableside from one of those tiny copper pots. But of them all, the one I’m still thinking about even days later is the savory, umber consomme that pooled around a perfectly grilled Maine scallop over a thin layer of roasted potato. On a rainy evening sitting next to the restaurant’s crackling fireplace, this dish felt tailor-made for this exact time and place, a deceptively elegant few bites that left me scraping the side of the shallow bowl to savory every last drop. Sons & Daughters, 708 Bush Street in San Francisco

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

March 3

Stir-fried kimchi chobap at BoBop

Paolo Bicchieri

Restaurateur Ina Jungin Lee has an uncanny knack for making quick, surprisingly addictive food. She’s the owner of numerous Korean restaurants in San Francisco including downtown’s Matko and Excelsior’s Korner Store. But it’s not just her — her whole family can crack out everything from soy sauce crab to banchan to-go with speedy excellence. Her latest venture, BoBop on Valencia Street, is no less impressive. The stir-fried kimchi, 100 percent gluten-free and vegan, is a palm-sized medley of aioli, sweet rice, and spicy cabbage. I was asked if I’d like my order heated up or not; thankfully I deferred to the recommendation of my server, who encouraged me to spend the 45 seconds required to warm up the handroll. Biting into this tofu skin-wrapped dish grants the feeling of drinking warm soup on a cold morning. This chobap hit the spot in a rare kind of way. The peppery spice is bracing, yet I still ran through this dish in the same way I’ve dashed through all my favorite snacks: too quick, always wishing for more, staring blankly and wondering who could have eaten my treasure without my noticing, not unlike Patrick Star. For $4.29 (or three for $11.99, five for $17.99, and a party pack of 21 for $72.99) a chobop noob like myself can easily get inducted into Lee’s canon of Korean snack food. Any of those deals make for a worthwhile investment at this Valencia corridor newcomer. BoBop, 736 Valencia Street, San Francisco

— Paolo Bicchieri, Eater SF reporter

Pistachio cardamom sugar croissant from Butter & Crumble

Dianne de Guzman

It seems like this is the Year of the Pistachio, and to be quite honest, I’m very here for it. I’ve long been a fan of pistachio ice cream, for instance, and now as it appears in more and more pastries, I’m buying up every pistachio-flavored thing that I can. I purchased a number of pastries from Butter & Crumble recently — the bakery pop-up with that gorgeous bacon egg & cheese croissant — and while, yes, that BEC is a testament to the fun ways the Butter & Crumble team is experimenting with viennoiserie, my heart was stolen by the pistachio cardamom sugar croissant. The flaky crust was dusted with a just-right amount of superfine sugar and pistachio bits. Meanwhile, the interior featured a nice dose of lovely pistachio cream inside. The pistachio maniac that I am was thrilled by the flavors, along with the texture of the croissant itself. The pastry menu at the weekend Butter & Crumble pop-ups can change, but if you see this croissant on the menu during your visit, I’d advise you to grab one (or more). Butter & Crumble, 3318 Fillmore Street, San Francisco

— Dianne de Guzman, Eater SF deputy editor

Brown butter custard with grilled prawns from Gozu

Lauren Saria

When you eat around San Francisco’s high-end restaurants the way I do — a workplace hazard, you might say — you come across no small amount of premium ingredients including, of course, beautifully marbled strips of wagyu beef. But no matter how many heritage cows you’ve consumed, I can almost assure you that you’ve never truly known beef the way you will after you’ve gathered around the hearth at FiDi’s Gozu. The dramatically austere restaurant defies easy categorization, being not-quite a steakhouse and not-quite a Japanese restaurant, but also, entirely both. Chef Marc Zimmerman and his friendly and efficient team work around a smoky robata grill at the center of a U-shaped counter, feeding guests a parade of plates that may or may not look like they utilize the prized Japanese beef, but nevertheless always do in some form or another. A perfect example: brown butter custard served with grilled prawns. A seafood dish, you would rightfully assume. But one bite of this rich custard, grounded by earthy browned butter and infused with the flavor of savory meat, is enough to reassure you that there is, in fact, wagyu in this dish — though not so much as to overpower the creamy, delicate flavor of the prawns. And that’s the real magic of the Gozu menu. It manages to be a carnivorous celebration of wagyu that’s also beguilingly subtle and technically razor-sharp. Gozu, 201 Spear Street, Ste 120, San Francisco

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

February 24

Wagyu roast beef sandwich from Troubadour

Sandwiches on display at Troubadour

Lauren Saria

Here’s the short version: On the way back from Mendocino County, I made my travel partner take a slight detour through Healdsburg because I couldn’t stand the thought of not eating one of the bakery and bistro’s impeccably built sandwiches on my way home. The daily special was a wagyu roast beef number, stacked high with thinly sliced beef and thick slices of white cheddar cheese. The bread was, naturally, just perfect — slightly sour but fluffy and soft, delicately cradling the precious fillings but never letting a drop of aioli or mustard slip through. And if you’re interested, here’s the longer version: This delicious pit stop only occurred as I made my way back from an incredible trip up to Harbor House Inn, where dinner at the hotel’s two-Michelin-star restaurant showcased the edible splendor of the Mendocino Coast. Coral-colored fingers of uni lay draped over a delicate custard and briny seaweed sauce and a pristine piece of black cod adorned a small mountain of California-grown Calhikari rice. Then there was breakfast, a spread of fresh-baked breads, fruit, and an immensely satisfying mushroom and egg custard. It’d be impossible to pick a single dish from such a stay. Troubadour Bread & Bistro, 381 Healdsburg Avenue, Healdsburg; Harbor House Inn, 5600 South Highway 1, Elk

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Tofu nachos at Caliente Bistro

Paolo Bicchieri

On an altogether-way-too-windy afternoon, I felt like I was more or less blown into Caliente Bistro Kitchen on Geary Boulevard. This Cuban Mexican restaurant, perhaps some form of chaos cooking but an intersection that feels at home in San Francisco, fulfilled my hunger with the most passionate and graceful vegan nachos I’ve ever had the great fortune to eat. Tofu fajitas, spicy and rich with oil, wove between chips alongside thick globs of ultra-limey guacamole, slices of jalapeno perched on top with black beans Salt Bae-d throughout. The chips were warm and oily, just out of the fryer. With no shade to the other taquerias and Mexican restaurants in San Francisco that have been kind enough to accommodate my animal-free nacho requests, they were all pretty bare bones. For the first time, though, my dining partner was jealous of my dish, rather than merely shaking his head at the not-so-good-looking “vegan nachos” for which I usually settle. Alongside a tall order of horchata, served in the kind of thick glass your grandma keeps stocked at her house, Caliente Bistro’s rendition was one of the finest lunches I’ve encountered in the Richmond District in a long time. Caliente Bistro Kitchen, 4828 Geary Boulevard, San Francisco

— Paolo Bicchieri, Eater SF reporter

Everything bagel at Chicken Dog Bagels

Dianne de Guzman

I’ve been deep diving into bagels this month and while there are plenty more places to try and add to the list, I feel it’s worth getting into my favorite one (at least for right now). After a day of zipping around San Francisco over the weekend going from shop to shop, I had four contenders for a bagel-to-bagel comparison. After sampling everything, my overall favorite turned out to be the Everything bagel from Chicken Dog Bagels. It was everything I wanted in a bagel: a crunchy exterior bite that gives way to a lovely interior, perfect for spreading the chive-scallion schmear over. The everything spice was also perfect, a nicely balanced mix of ingredients that didn’t feel skimped on in the dipping process. Next time, I’ll branch out into an intriguing-sounding shallot-horseradish spread from Chicken Dog with my next bagel purchase, and maybe dip a toe into the sandwiched bagels. I waited in line for my bagels (which can get lengthy), but as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, pre-orders are the way to go if you can help it. Chicken Dog Bagels, 235 Cortland Avenue, San Francisco

— Dianne de Guzman, Eater SF deputy editor

February 17

Eggshuka and milk bread at Mourad

Lauren Saria

There are a number of reasons I return, again and again, to Mourad, the fine-dining Moroccan restaurant in FiDi to celebrate special occasions. There’s the stunning dining room, with its tall ceilings and sparkling orb-like light fixtures. There’s the wine list, on which I always manage to unearth something unexpectedly excellent — typically with help from the restaurant’s wine director Jose Delgado. And, of course, there’s the food, which takes the richly flavored cuisine of North Africa and roots it in the Bay Area through elegant and thoughtful updates. Take, for example, the eggshuka and milk bread starter on the menu now. It wasn’t all that long ago that restaurants of all stripes began putting shakshuka on their menus, serving the fragrant egg-topped tomato stew to crowds of brunch-goers. But here the dish benefits from a touch of restraint: it stars a dense, golden jidori egg yolk floating in an ivory pool of smoked potato sauce. The shakshuka, typically a bright sauce of spiced tomatoes, stands in as a mound of crunchy acidic little bits that give the dish some necessary texture. And to sop it all up, there are fluffy housemade milk bread buns, which arrive splayed out with a trio of butters: preserved lemon, urfa pepper, and pomegranate. All in all, it ends up feeling both novel and familiar but mostly, just delicious. Exactly the way it should be. Mourad, 140 New Montgomery Street in San Francisco.

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Mushroom and caviar crepe at Birch & Rye

Paolo Bicchieri

Chef Anya El-Wattar goes way beyond “accommodating dietary restrictions” at Birch & Rye, her Noe Valley restaurant that recently landed on the long list for the James Beard Awards this year. In fact, the chef wanted to run a plant-based Russian fine dining restaurant at first, which explains why her vegan tasting menu is such a triumph. This buckwheat crepe, a Black History Month offering from chef de cuisine Stephen Simmons, is another victory in the restaurant’s approach to inclusive, thoughtful preparation. Made typically with house-cured vodka salmon and a private label malossol caviar, the vegan spin features hedgehog mushrooms, pickled mustard seeds, and cashew smetana. The playfulness of this item is worth a nod: Like any pancake or crepe worth its batter, the chewiness and pliability of the naturally gluten-free dish is a rare treat in such a high-caliber restaurant. A bright trill of lemon from the smetana soars through the flavor profile, braced by a rich umami baseline from the mushrooms. It’s a hardy course; there’s an oiliness from the crepe that’s well-met by its own crispy edges. According to El-Wattar, Orthodox Russians eat crepes as a part of ringing in Malsenita, known also as “crepe week.” In a nod to his Black identity, Simmons prepared his version with buckwheat to make the crepe itself black. This particular dish, like so much of the experimentation going on at Birch & Rye, is available for just a brief time. But we can all hope that this clever and nourishing dish makes an appearance come next February, the month to celebrate both Black History Month and Malsenita. Birch & Rye, 1320 Castro Street, San Francisco

— Paolo Bicchieri, Eater SF reporter

Bun thap cam at Super Super

Dianne de Guzman

I’ve been going out to a lot of new-to-me places lately, so where I found myself this week is a longtime favorite of mine. Inside this sweet-looking house on San Pablo Avenue is one of the thankfully-nearby places I visit when I’m looking for something comfortingly familiar. I typically switch between the pho and the bun options, depending on my mood, but I can heartily recommend both. This week, however, I was in the mood for vermicelli noodles so I went for my usual order, the bun thap cam combo, which comes with spring rolls, pork, shrimp, vegetables, and a sprinkling of chopped peanuts and cilantro. The sweet-sour-umami dressing looks impossibly small in its separate cup yet manages to coat every strand of noodle, every lettuce crevice, and every piece of protein. There’s plenty to pick from in this melange, from the tender, grilled pieces of pork to the lightly crisped shrimp, as well as the pieces of spring roll that hold its crunch against the dressing. It’s also a nice way I can work some vegetables into my lunch with the addition of lettuce and carrots, which helps make everything feel at least a little bit healthier. It’s a lunch item I return to again and again, that has yet to disappoint. Super Super, 1428 San Pablo Avenue, Berkeley

— Dianne de Guzman, Eater SF deputy editor

February 10

Farfallone with rabbit ‘friccasea’ at SPQR

Lauren Saria

Though this week marked my first visit to Pac-Heights’s SPQR, chef Matt Accarrino has been holding it down in the neighborhood for nearly a decade and a half and continues to put out perfectly al dente pasta and slate of impressive secondi. In a city where it’s tempting to raft down a never-ending river of hot, new restaurants, it’s easy to overlook classics like this Italian dining staple — but the crowd that filled the dining room on Sunday night indicates there are, in fact, a number of savvy diners who never let SPQR slip out of rotation. You’ll understand why as soon as you start your meal with plates like a picture-perfect tendril of charred octopus paired with pistachio and an airy chickpea panisse, or neat little pyramids of pasta wrapped around milk-braised veal that then gets showered in shaved black truffle. For me, the standout was a portion of nutty farfallone bathed in a light sauce with basil and a scattering of freshly g