By Susan Dyer Reynolds
Photos by Elizabeth Armstrong
Chez Papa Resto, coup de foudre gustatif!
They’re known as the “pearls of central France;” one of the most prized legumes in the world: Lentilles Vertes du Puy. They are so prized that they have been anointed with an Appellation d’Origine Contrôleé (AOC). Farmers in the Auvergne, France’s best-known lentil-producing region, wait through the long and difficult growing season and sweat profusely during the folie de la moisson, or “harvest fever,” because lentils picked too soon aren’t mature and won’t make it to market. (Photo: Absinthe served at Chez Papa's bar)
Introduced by the Gauls, these petite green lentils thrive in the fertile, volcanic basin of the Le-Puy-en-Velay region. Their flavor – a careful balance of minerality and fruit – is enveloped in a tender skin that doesn’t turn to mush even after slow cooking, making them a favorite of chefs around the world.
At Chez Papa Resto they use the green lentils of du Puy in a rich and soothing winter soup cooked with bits of carrot and potato and topped with a pesto aromatic with fresh, bright green basil. When my dining companion asked our waiter, Yannick (a charmer from the south of France), about the wondrous lentils, he aptly described them without hesitation; he knew exactly where they came from and why they were special. It is this attention to detail for something as humble as a lentil, both from the waiter and from the chef, that defines what sets Chez Papa apart.
Every now and then a restaurant comes along that grabs you and won’t let you go; everything is aligned like stars in the heavens – the food, the ambiance, the service – and it makes you want to eat there again and again. Chez Papa Resto is one of those places. Owners Jocelyn Bulow and Marc-Henri Sempere wanted a bistro that reminded them of childhoods spent in the south of France, where a meal was a gathering of friends and family and the food was as comfortable as the as the company.
Executive chef David Bazirgan, who won acclaim for his work at Baraka and the first Chez Papa in Potrero Hill, and sous chef Mark Fantino, formerly of my favorite Italian restaurant in San Francisco, Vivande, prepare rustic dishes without pretense. Though much of the menu is classic Provencal, Chez Papa is anything but old school. Dishes are lighter and more inventive – even the bouillabaisse gets a playful treatment.
(Photo: Caramelized onion tart)
John Michaud of Find created a décor that blends seamlessly with the style of the food – modern and playful, simple yet elegant. Dramatic black Murano glass chandeliers tinged with deep burgundy, some shrouded in diaphanous fabric boxes, drop from the tall black ceiling and cast a flattering diffused glow. An oversized orange banquette resembles something by artist Claus Oldenburg, splashing across the back wall, its stylized, curvy shapes peaking in the middle with a sun-like circle that meets the crystal drops of the chandeliers, dwarfing diners as if they followed Alice down the rabbit hole. Shimmering rosewood burl tabletops and captivatingly subtle wall treatments set off the dramatic bar, its back made of black granite engraved with fleurs-de-lis, and a long antique glass communal table also set beneath gossamer-enwrapped chandeliers. The stylized darkness at dinner changes completely during the day as sunlight streams through the gauzy window curtains. On a warm afternoon (of which we have had few of late) the outdoor patio on Mint Plaza can seat 88.
Nearly everyone who works at Chez Papa hails from France, and mostly from the south of France, which adds to the authentic allure. In some restaurants this could be a bad thing – a very bad thing – but at Chez Papa it is a huge asset, thanks to the expert direction of general manager Andrej Oslica and manager Arnaud Giron. Hosts are well versed in welcoming patrons; servers know the food and the wine but are never snobbish, reciting the names of the dishes as only someone with that accent can. The bus staff is equally adept, clearing the dishes and filling the water on cue, but never hovering like buzzards waiting to swoop down on prey. The pace is perfection – a moment to savor before the next item comes.
Bazirgan has crafted that menu I rarely find – the one that makes me want to order everything on it. Over three visits I made a decent dent, with the help of my Shovels (big men with big appetites who come along to help with the power eating), including the February themed citrus menu, a marvel in itself.
Lunch includes a smaller version of the starter menu, but makes up for it with dreamy tartines (open-faced sandwiches) like the boldly flavored Parma prosciutto and coppa with pungent Cambozola (a combination of French triple cream cheese and Italian blue cheese) draped on soft, just-sour-enough Acme levain ($10). If this had been my last meal, I would have died happy.
(Photo: Roasted baby beets)
There is also a pan bagnat ($10) – a specialty of the Nice region that I always love to find – with tuna, cucumbers, olives, anchovies, peppers, egg, and mixed greens; as well as a satisfying roasted eggplant and mozzarella combination with roasted peppers, pistou (garlic, fresh basil, and olive oil) and olive tapenade (a spread of olive oil, capers, black olives and anchovies).
Snake River American Kobe beef tartare ($10) has a nice bite mixed with the traditional Dijon mustard, capers, shallots, and garlic and topped with a raw quail egg; buttery pastry cradles caramelized Cipollini onions, goat cheese, pistou, arugula, and pinenuts in a warm tart ($8); half moon-shaped pasta discs filled with butternut squash also benefit from edges caramelized in the decadent brown butter, sage and Parmesan sauce ($10); Dungeness crab salad gets an upscale twist with mango, piquillo pepper coulis, and shaved celery ($12).
A pile of tender mussels ($14) soaks in a bath of saffron, tarragon, piment d’Espelette (a mild ground chili from the Labourd province of France), and pastis (a French licorice-flavored liqueur).
While I appreciated the haricots vert (small, slender green beans) and the lovely Meyer lemon beurre blanc, I found the pan-seared bluenose bass ($17) overcooked and dry – it was the only miss of my three visits.
The expanded starter menu at dinner includes rosy pink grilled lamb chops with a nicely done ratatouille (a stew of tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, peppers and onions), herbs de Provence, and a sprinkle of lavender salt ($16); foie gras two ways ($21) – seared with apples and Bayuls reduction and in a terrine with quince – as well as a selection of the day’s charcuterie ($14); and three artisanal cheeses with huckleberry compote and walnut bread ($14).
There are so many wonderful starters that it’s easy to make a meal sharing, but there are worthy entrées, too, such as the fragrant “bouillabaisse fumet” with roasted monkfish ($24), with La Ratte potatoes (a small, nutty, smooth French potato), clams, prawns, and calamari. The staff pours the fumet, a concentration of liquid used to enhance the body of a sauce, over the ingredients and presents a small dish of bold garlic and chili infused rouille and toast points. We smeared the rouille on the toast and dipped it into the broth (lots of eyes rolling to the backs of our heads in gastronomic ecstasy).
Cubes of lamb braised with Chateauneuf-du-Pape, a wine known for matching well with lamb ($22), fall apart with just enough resistance in the daube (classic French stew). The meat melts into root vegetables and rich gravy drizzled with rosemary oil – the perfect dish for a rainy winter’s night.
Beautifully charred grilled New York steak ($24) gets a classic béarnaise sauce with herbs de Provence, accompanied by thin, crisp french fries and aioli.
I love the fact the team at Chez Papa “gets it” – in a tough economy, they’ve lowered prices about 20-percent to accommodate nervous diners who have watched their 401Ks become $101Ks, and they also offer a three course prix fixe dinner for $34.95 that isn’t just for early birds like many prix fixes.
They recently debuted a monthly changing themed four-course excursion at $50 per person – February brings a “Celebration of California Citrus” that stars a delectable butter poached Maine lobster with leek fondue, haricots vert and Meyer lemon emulsion; and a decadent Liberty Farms duck confit with celery root, Clementine oranges and Grand Marnier.
Desserts are good, ranging from cocoa nib profiteroles with French vanilla gelato and warm chocolate sauce ($8) to a refreshing orange blossom panna cotta ($8).
Wine director George Aknin has compiled a distinctive list with over 150 selections, of which 23 are available by the glass. He focuses on food compatible wines (think Syrah and Riesling). There is also a full bar cranking out creative cocktails (some of the best I’ve seen in this mixology crazed city) like the Lady MacBeth – champagne topped with port. Chez Papa also offers pastis service – water with a spirit in a suggested ratio of 1 to 5 with a few ice cubes on the side – and Absinthe, a strong herbal liquor made with wormwood banned in the U.S. since 1912 and reintroduced several years ago (thanks to local master distiller Lance Winters).
After sampling the citrus menu a few nights ago, I asked Yannick (our server for two of the three visits) how you would say “love at first bite” in the south of France. He thought about it out loud – it had to do with lightning – and then said, “coup de foudre gustatif.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Chez Papa: 4 Mint Plaza (formerly Jessie Street) between Mission Street and Market near the Fifth Street Garage. Lunch Monday through Saturday from 11.30 am to 2:30 pm (until 3:00 pm on Saturday). Dinner Monday through Wednesday from 5:30 to 10:00 pm, and Thursday through Saturday from 5:30 to 11:00 pm. Reservations can be made through
OpenTable, by visiting www.chezpapasf.com, or by calling 415-546-4134.
AMBIANCE A memorable meal in the middle of Provence.
SOUND LEVEL Dropped, floated ceilings help to absorb some of the sound. At lunchtime it can be quiet enough for an intimate conversation, at dinner occasionally boisterous but manageable compared to most restaurants today.
LIGHT LEVEL Bring your Mini Maglite – it’s dark and the typeface on the menu is small.
NOT TO MISS DISHES Coppa and prosciutto tartine; lentil soup; mussels; fumet bouillabaisse; lavender-salted lamb chops; California Citrus Celebration prix fixe menu (February only).
WHAT THE DIAMONDS MEAN
Yummy ratings range from zero to four diamonds and reflect food, atmosphere and service, taking price range and style of the restaurant into consideration.
OUR REVIEW POLICY We conduct multiple visits anonymously and pay our own tab.
Dishing with Chef… Jeremiah Tower By Susan Dyer Reynolds
Jeremiah Tower’s 2003 autobiography, California Dish: What I Saw (and Cooked) at the American Culinary Revolution, so incensed then-San FranciscoChronicle columnist Kim Severson that, in her review of the book, she wrote: “To make it through former superstar chef Jeremiah Tower's memoir, the reader has to suspend disbelief and accept three basic premises: 1. Everything was his idea. 2. Any culinary and financial reversals weren't his fault. 3. Everyone wanted to sleep with him.”
Severson was mostly angry that Tower dished on his love-affair-gone-sour with Alice Waters, stating that it was simply a grudge he couldn’t let go of and accusing him of painting Waters as a coquettish control freak who was a bigger publicity hound than Donald Trump. While you have to take Severson’s wrath with a grain of Malden salt because of her friendship with Waters, California Dish inspired similar barbs from others and distracted from the most important thing about the book: Tower’s importance in the history of California cuisine.
Without any formal culinary training, Tower took over the kitchen at Waters’s landmark Berkeley restaurant, Chez Panisse, in the early 1970s. His daily-changing menu emphasized locally grown, seasonal ingredients and let the food speak for itself. At his own landmark San Francisco restaurant, Stars, he continued his crusade for local/seasonal cookery and is considered my many to be the father of California regional cuisine (though he jokes that today he is more “the grandfather”).
Tower left the restaurant business and his superstar chef toque behind for a quieter life in Merida, a city in southeastern Mexico on the Yucatan Peninsula, where he spends time remodeling and flipping haciendas. A while back, I caught up with him on a diving excursion in Cozumel and found him to be every bit as pithy and candid as ever.
What is your first memory of cooking?
When I was five years old: I had just caught a barracuda on Australia's Great Barrier Reef, and I grilled it over a wood fire on the beach with my aborigine pal.
Who or what inspired you to become a chef? I had always cooked for relaxation and entertaining, cooking though Escoffier’s Ma Cuisine when I was in college and graduate school [Harvard University]. I then became professional in California out of dire financial need and not being good at anything else.
What is your proudest cooking, food or restaurant moment? My proudest moment was surviving the opening of my Peak Café in Hong Kong, and then seeing it become the most successful 100-seat restaurant in the world.
What is the biggest misconception about chef Jeremiah Tower? That I am a chef.
What is your favorite ingredient? Fresh black truffles with Chateau d'Yquem.
What is your least favorite ingredient? Any corporate American fast-food-chain slop.
What do you think is your most important contribution to California cuisine as we know it today?
Educated sound bites that encouraged the U.S. press to write about me and the new California philosophy of cooking, and then to continue to write about it until all the world was aware and inspired.
Your memoir, California Dish: What I Saw (and Cooked) at the American Culinary Revolution, still has tongues wagging. Are you surprised at the controversy it caused, especially regarding Alice Waters and Chez Panisse? There is always controversy when impassioned lies collide with passionate truth.
How did you wind up in Mexico and what are you doing there? I was compelled to look further into the obvious, if often repudiated, connections between all of my favorite places: Egypt, Puglia, Havana, New Orleans, and the Yucatan peninsula. Also because the National Geographic Society will find Atlantis off Cabo de San Antonio [between the Yucatan and Cuba] this year, once and for all proving that the ancient Egyptians ‘discovered’ the Americas and not that slave-trader Columbus.
Are there any plans for another restaurant from Jeremiah Tower in the near future, stateside or otherwise?
Never say 'never,' but I can see in my restaurant future only an American bar in Havana.
301 W. St. John St. (near Julian), San Jose 408-295-5414
Henry’s is one of those great old barbecue and brew kind of joints where you place your order when you walk in the door and your salad is waiting in a wooden bowl on a scalloped paper placemat when you’re seated. It’s a historic landmark right around the corner from where the Sharks play, so if you’re heading over for a game, stop in for a pile of sweet, tangy, gooey baby back ribs cooked in the old brick oven. The filet mignon is tender and juicy — and under $30 with a giant spud overflowing with butter and the aforementioned salad. Fridays and Saturdays they have prime rib — 12 ounces for $19.95 or, for big appetites, 16 ounces for $24.95 (get there early — it sells out fast!). Henry’s is an institution, and it’s still one of the best deals in the Bay area for quality steakhouse fare at reasonable prices.
Contrary to my Italian heritage, I am not a bread person. Despite the fact that restaurants in the Bay Area, San Francisco in particular, serve some of the best doughy starters in the country, I usually skip them all together (yes, even the fabulously fresh sourdough). But there are a few starter doughs that I can’t resist. Her are five of my favorites:
5. Wood-toasted garlic bread:
Andy's Bar-B-Que
2367 El Camino Real, (near San Tomas Expressway), Santa Clara, 408-549-1597
When developers came calling, Andy’s had to move from its cozy Campbell location to a spot on El Camino. I don’t like the ambiance as much, but the award-winning barbecue is still some of the best in the South Bay. The garlic toast — slices of soft French bread mopped with butter and grilled over the oak wood fire — is addictive. (Be sure to ask them to make it “extra brown and crispy.”)
Best hunks of meat” category in Northside San Francisco’s “Best of Food & Wine” issue four years running. While you’re sipping a perfect martini and drooling over the hunk of meat to come, enjoy the whole loaf of fresh sourdough brought to every table. Saw through the crunchy brown crust to find a warm, soft center dotted with bits of black olive and oozing with garlicky butter.
http://www.northsidesf.com/feb09/pets_jasminestails01.html) (and that’s big). Decadent strawberry butter slathered on these poofs of eggy delight seals the deal. You’ll also receive a demitasse of chicken consommé (clear, perfectly seasoned, and some of the best I’ve had — including my mom’s) with a gougère, a light savory pastry with cheese mixed in the batter, for soaking it up. The Maine lobster club is almost a letdown after this tantalizing start — and it nearly made my list of five favorite sandwiches last week.
Let’s just say that if Brenda’s fluffy out-of-the-oven biscuits were a man, by now they would find me creepy-obsessive and be saying, “It’s not you, it’s me …” These southern buttermilk beauties match everything else at Brenda’s wonderful restaurant — simply yummy.
1. Focaccia:
Da Flora
701 Columbus Ave. (at Filbert), San Francisco, 415-981-4664
Flora Gaspar’s Venetian-inspired Da Flora is a North Beach treasure. Baked goods guru Mary Beth Marks had me at “Hello” with her fresh, olive oil-soaked, sea salt-sprinkled, light and airy focaccia. Though it’s tempting, don’t fill up on it — save room for stellar dishes from chef Jen McMahon like the roast asparagus with quail egg salad.
– S. Reynolds
Volume 1 Issue 2 
They’re known as the “pearls of central France;” one of the most prized legumes in the world: Lentilles Vertes du Puy. They are so prized that they have been anointed with an Appellation d’Origine Contrôleé (AOC). Farmers in the Auvergne, France’s best-known lentil-producing region, wait through the long and difficult growing season and sweat profusely during the folie de la moisson, or “harvest fever,” because lentils picked too soon aren’t mature and won’t make it to market. 
