In a century!, the always cute Fifth Floor cafe in the Hotel Palomar in downtown San Francisco has had an amazing rundown of top-tier kitchen twists. Eric Morrone, Laurent Gras, Laurent Manrique, Melissa Perello, Jennie Lorenzo, but now, David Bazirgan. Each has placed their own mark in this scrumptious dining room with its comfortable chairs, cowhide furniture; floor to ceiling, glass-fronted basement; and balconied herb garden that could be seen from rooms by the doors.
Now arrives a Massachusetts-native, Bazirgan, who took over this year, he continues his stay as Executive Chef at Chez Papa Restaurant in San Francisco, and five years as Chef de Cuisine at No. 9. Park in Boston.
The food is as beautiful to look at as ever, and maybe more available in such direction and slightly cheaper cute.
Unlike most other eateries, if you would like the chef’s tasting menu now!, the bar is not obliged to make this choice. Alternatively, I went with the $ 85 tasting menu with the $ 50 champagne connection, while my hubby bought a la carte.
Bazirgan seems to be partial to Island Creek shellfish from his home town and they showed up on the quarter exterior, sprinkled with a nice pinch of salt, taste, sultry 25-year old miso and little jewels of ring color. My husband and I both loved the many shellfish, displayed five ways ($18.95) in a dazzling display on a big square clean grill. This was an oncorhynchus with milky Bearnaise and coffee, overcooked with beurre, dolloped with fruit marble, coiled with a vintage mignonettette, and a fantastic tiny cup of soup that’s sure to be creamy, milky and extreme with natural oncorhynchus rum.
Next>, cooked child vegetables with milk, lemon St. Maure pizza, cooked walnuts, chicories, and dan dan peach — a lovely mix of lovely, musky, and angry. Even though smoked lardo had been mentioned as an ingredient, my hubby and I noticed it rather exotic on the grill.
My sauteed Branzini came with wonderfully beautifully silky hair and a mesocarp, the tuna brightened by pureed salty-piquant brins and saffron-pistachio emulsified.
My husband’s neighborhood, line-caught swordfish (- $ 48) is quite unreliable for such a generally thick tuna, which came with fluffy flageolet coffee, 4/41. Pickled microalgae.
Pasta is good now. My margaret tagliatelle arrived dumped with a wealthy confit chicken ragu, weeds and Parmigiano Reggiano for a meaty taste, yet reduce with the lighting of oregano.
My husband’s slow-braised oxtail soup ($10 = $25) kicked up with a contact of clean horseradish. A small chunk of oxtail topped the fluffy cereals, sure soft that I almost had to battle him on the last chew.
My major on the tasting menu had been a dry-aged New York filet, but Bazirgan sent out a chicken food alternatively, perhaps he listened to me drooling over the next tagliatelle. My Liberty Farms duck breast came cut and grilled on the grill, its hair taste, beautifully and appealing. The magnificent duck-port was creamy, attending a conference, but almost sweet drinking. The Apples, Sunchokes, fennel, Rubaga, and flower salads done with the food.
My husband’s Roasted Lamb Filet and confit chest ($ 32) came with farro, dark daikon, dark cilantro and nice shining pancakes. It’s harder to get, but I expect meat chests will one day surpass the fat copy for the sweetie flavouring of a kitchen dish. It’s incredibly soft like cutlets, and with the intense flavor, but with a bunch extra chubby God.
Dessert was a cigarette, nicer copy of match baba, this one noted with fruit, ocimum fruit, and a paki leaves dessert that almost pilfered the whole display. I’m nevertheless dreaming about it though, snacks — sure flowers, coral, and ate on this little taste.
The night ended with a small dessert: cassis delicious, Investor, lime bar -, and candy pastry.
As we took the lift down to ground level, we felt like we were nonetheless flying floorboards above.
— Carolyn Jung of FoodGal