Before California was officially a state – I know this because even though I can’t remember what I had for breakfast I can recall useless facts from my 8th grade history class – Tadich Grill in San Francisco was serving hot meals on cold days. Over 150 years later, no restaurant in America has aged more gracefully.
Tadich Grill, “The Original Cold Day Restaurant,” is a must do in San Francisco. Established in 1849, Tadich personifies San Francisco with a little bit of gold rush, a hint of two earthquakes, a dash of brass, glass and wood and a heaping helping of some of the City’s best seafood.
The menu is a classic. Today’s date is added to a menu that never seems to change. You’ll marvel at the number of seafood selections, although I almost never waver from the Petrale Sole. San Francisco treats like Crab Louie, Sand Dabs, Cioppino (seafood stew), and Hangtown Fry are regular features. The white chowder is a must. A large wedge of the famous Sourdough bread accompanies every meal and is perfect for chowder dunking.
Better for lunch than dinner, Tadich accommodates efficiently any party from one to a dozen. Located in the busy financial district, it is best to arrive right at 11:30 when the curtain goes up and the doors open. A gentleman in a white coat will write your name down on a small white pad and parties are only seated complete. The earlier you arrive, the better chance you have of scoring one of the velvet roped rooms on the side. The restaurant is closed on Sunday.
Dining alone is not a problem. A number of counter seats are available to the right of the bar and the service is as excellent as if you were seated at a table. The bar is small but serviceable and you will get boxed in at peak times making it quite a challenge not to spill a drop of the martini that is filled meticulously all the way to the top of the glass.
No reservations are taken and, as I far as I can tell, no favoritism is given. This was never more evident than on a fall Saturday when I saw Regis and Joy Philbin standing in line to get in just like everyone else. I am sure that at the end of his meal, Regis must have roared his signature “Well, Well, Well.” It’s that good. – D.M.