
Bong
Su
311 3rd St.
Cross: Folsom St.
San Francisco, CA 94107
415-536-5800
website
Dinner
nightly 5:30pm-10pm
Lunch Mon-Fri 11:30am-2:30pm
Apps
$7-$13
Soup/Salads $11-$16
Entrées $17-$26
Dessert $8-$10 |
AUGUST
1, 2006 | SAN FRANCISCO
San Francisco continues to generate restaurants featuring higher-end
interpretations of otherwise inexpensive ethnic cuisines—Mamacita
is a far cry from the Tamale Lady, Shanghai 1930 and Shanghai Restaurant
are two very different animals, Prana is opening soon and DOSA is,
well, we don't have any other South Indian joints in the city yet,
so DOSA stands alone. When Slanted Door first opened many moons
ago on Valencia Street, I don't think many folks would have believed
it would morph into the iconic San Franciscan culinary destination/ever-growing
empire it is now.
People
(well, most) stopped complaining about the price difference between
Slanted Door's spring rolls versus how much you would pay at your
neighborhood Vietnamese joint (for the record, it's about a two-to-one
ratio) because they eventually came to realize it's a completely
different experience—and you don't get to order from a list
of ten different Rieslings at your neighborhood haunt, either.
The
latest higher-end Vietnamese restaurant in town, ~BONG SU~,
has been generating some comparisons to Slanted Door, and while
they both have some European whites on their wine list, I think
they are very different restaurants. Some dishes at Bong Su strike
me as more exotic or even decadent than what you would find on Slanted
Door's menu, but they do share a number of classics, like
shaking beef, clay pot dishes, and papaya salad. Bong Su has more
of a loungey vibe, while Slanted Door is what I like to call "natural
modern," with Heath ceramics and wood tables. There are other
differences as well, like the regions of Vietnam they each represent
on their menus (Bong Su denotes North, Central, or South for each
dish). Slanted Door has an apparent focus on using organic and sustainable
producers, which really comes across in how "clean"
the food always tastes to me. And yes, Bong Su's wispy hostess
ensembles have everyone talking. In the end, it's like comparing
Tres Agaves to Mamacita—they are both serving upscale Mexican
food and margaritas, but why compare them? They have different perspectives
and offer different experiences. Did anyone compare Pearl Jam and
Nirvana, even though they were both grunge? Anyway.
Bong
Su is the second restaurant for Anne Le and Tammy Huynh (who is
also the Executive Chef); they both own the popular Tamarine
in Palo Alto. Along with Engstrom Design Group, they definitely
have an eye for style and details, which you'll notice at every
turn. The space underwent a massive facelift after its previous
incarnation as a Max's Diner—Cher would approve. She would
also approve of the extra-slinky backless ensembles the hostesses
wear, and most guys will give the thumbs-up as well. Let's just
say no one with any love handles will ever be hired as a hostess
at Bong Su. (The men's bathrooms also conveniently have a primer
on pick-up lines in Vietnamese playing in the background—give
it your best shot, guys.)
The
lounge is moody, with high tables for walk-ins, and a bar that has
a lit-up lower section that feels somewhat Blade Runner, while the
main bar is tiled in dark chocolate tiles—almost like a massive
Hershey bar. The main dining room is a narrow shotgun space with
banquette seating flanking the wall, and a long communal table with
glowing lights of grass cloth and sheer fabric hanging from above.
Since it's not one big square room, the volume never reaches
a horrible din. There are also some large sandstone deities, draped
panels of gauzy fabric hanging from the low ceiling of café
au lait tiles, and pearlescent chairs. Overall, the room has a subdued
and minimalist visual tone.
The
menu arrives in a luxe burgundy and gold holder, hinting at some
of the indulgences to come. Overall, the apps are well designed
for sharing (unlike some other places in town that claim to be shared
plates but really don't get it). Bundles of shredded five-spice
duck ($9) are charmingly wrapped in mustard leaves with mango and
cucumber tucked inside, accompanied by a hoisin/plum/sriracha dipping
sauce—the flavors were familiar, but the presentation was
delicate and refreshing. Our server steered us toward the goi kampachi
($13), sashimi-style slices of Kona Kampachi (sidebar: did you know
this fish is trademarked?)
topped with jalapeño, frizzled shallot, and a drizzle of
a chili-lime-yuzu fish sauce—it was a fine presentation, but
didn't quite get me fired up, despite the presence of chili and
jalapeño.
Personally,
the dish that totally mind-erased me and made me its love slave
(I felt like Katie Holmes) was the shrimp cupcakes ($9)—little
rice flour crisps filled with a heavenly concoction of coconut milk,
scallion oil, prawns, and then topped with ground prawn flour the
color of bright egg yolks. You pour a small amount of the blended
fish sauce (fish sauce, vinegar, chili, sugar) into the cupcake
and then take a bite—it's a total mess to eat in two bites,
but a monster to pop into your mouth all at once. (Some of you futomaki
munchers out there shouldn't have a problem.) Just pick it up, and
have at it, however you can manage. The textures were so satisfying,
from the crispy exterior to the custardy interior, and the bright
flavors delivered a full flavor spectrum—loved the full shrimpy
factor. Woo hoo, the portion brings six cupcakes. You will fully
commit. You just might get pregnant.
I had
to check out their execution of bun cha noodles ($14)—what
arrives is a dark glossy ceramic bowl of grilled pork shoulder with
excellent grilled flavor, and a tangle of vermicelli noodles that
weren't pre-cut into the traditional little piles that make
the subsequent placement into the tender lettuce leaves easier to
manage. I guess this is where tradition gets off, and the "new
interpretation" part kicks in. Interestingly, the fish sauce
actually rests under the pork in case you were looking for your
dipping sauce—you won't end up dipping your roll into
a separate bowl. The accompanying purple perilla mint (similar to
Japanese shiso) had a fab freshness, which I haven't had in
many neighborhood Vietnamese joints around town, that's for
sure.
The
entrées ramp up in price, and in the dishes we tried, the
portions weren't exactly built for sharing between more than two
people. Most of the entrées hover around $24, which makes
me wish I knew the provenance of the ingredients—very few
of the meats are name-checked, which makes me wonder whether the
chicken is organic or not. Exotic ingredients, like sautéed
chive flowers, lily buds, and string yams make special appearances
on the menu.
The
caramelized black cod ($19) was silky and sweet, with flavors of
garlic and molasses all coming together into potent and peppery
bites of the tender fish. But the portion was barely enough for
two to share—if there was one more person at the table, there
would have been a fight; I'm talking Jets and Sharks.
The
shaking beef ($23) had some of the most tender cubes of beef tenderloin
I've had in some time, marinated in soy sauce, garlic, sugar, black
pepper, and soybean oil. They were exquisite and juicy, and it was
enough to forgive their lukewarm "I've been resting" temp,
but sadly, the hunks of sharp onion were so horsey they overwhelmed
the dish if you took a bite of both. I'm curious to see if this
dish will evolve a little.
One
feature vegetarians will like is the menu highlights numerous dishes
that can be morphed into vegetarian options—even the shrimp
cakes! It becomes an extremely vegetarian-friendly menu—there
are 18 different potential vegetarian dishes total. Interestingly,
there are also six different rice options, from a coconut and vanilla
option ($2) to the empress rice ($7), three mounds of garlic, ginger,
and leek-seasoned rice with a runny quail egg perched on top of
each.
Before
sliding into dessert, we were served a palate-cleanser of hot lotus
root tea and a candied lotus seed that you pop into your mouth before
you drink the tea. Thoughtful detail. Desserts from Clara Yun include
a number of refreshing ingredients, like the coconut tapioca ($8)
with roasted pineapple, mango sorbet, and basil syrup (not just
for pesto anymore). But I am sure the hit will be the black sesame
banana beignets ($10), piping hot fritters with two dipping sauces
of Valhrona chocolate and crème anglaise, plus a side of
uncommon black sesame ice cream that I really liked. Kind of a dusky
flavor. A kid would probably dump both the sauces over the beignets,
and the ice cream too, and then tuck into beignet island. Don't
think it didn't cross my mind.
The
bill arrives in a lacquer box, with plumeria flowers for any ladies
at the table. Why plumeria? Because that's what bong su means,
darlings. (You thought it was because we were in pot-friendly San
Francisco, but no.) Will that bill be a little more than you were
expecting? Maybe, if you're comparing it to an ethnic night
out somewhere—but if you think of it as a night out at any
other hip restaurant in the City, it should feel familiar.
NOTE:
SoMa workers should know that Bong Su is open for lunch, and has
a killer lunch special: for $17, there's the "Power Lunch,"
a two-course meal that is designed to get you out of there in under
an hour, and includes the shrimp cupcakes, huzzah. There's also
a happy hour from 4pm-6:30pm, with half-off starters in the lounge.
Again, think of those shrimp cupcakes. The cocktails are pretty
delish (and boozy)—check out the Earl Grey Boxcar or the Cool-Cumber.
Oh, and did I mention the shrimp cupcakes?  |