Home Food & Wine The Hungry Palate The New Franciscan is a good thing, but the New Old Fior d'Italia is a good thing, too

The New Franciscan is a good thing, but the New Old Fior d'Italia is a good thing, too

Written by Susan Dyer Reynolds, Northside Editor

Tuesday, 28 February 2006

"Old San Francisco is dying, one restaurant at a time," a friend of mine and a native San Franciscan lamented as we dined one night at Fior d'Italia. He wasn't talking about "The Fior," which despite its recent move to shiny new digs in the San Remo Hotel on Mason Street, is still serving the same food that has attracted diners to "America's Oldest Italian Restaurant" since 1886. He was talking about the other great oldies but goodies – Doro's, Ernie's, Paoli's, and just this month, the Gold Spike – which have sadly succumbed to the times. Once they were the hottest joints in town, but these days few diners are looking for giant portions of pasta in a family-friendly setting. The new "in" spots are dark and cool, serving little plates of creative, health-conscious Asian-inflected food while a DJ spins downtempo in the lounge and the bartenders pour brightly hued "specialty cocktails." I like the cool, new places, but I also like the old joints – the ones my grandfather loved when he visited because he could speak Italian with the maitre d'. Fior d'Italia, forced from its home at Union and Stockton streets last year by a fire, is still that kind of place at the San Remo. The stellar staff of veterans makes visitors feel like family, and there's something great about relaxing in a cozy booth with a dry martini as you peruse the large menu of Italian standards. The food at The Fior may not be innovative, but it's good and it's honest, and that's what counts with me. Not everything rocks the house, but most of the dishes are reliable and satisfying and a few are outstanding. The fegatini di pollo con funghi is the best I've ever had – the chicken livers are as tender as the oyster and shitake mushrooms, and, when saut&eacuteed together, the flavors marry beautifully. The plump, crunchy prawns wrapped in pancetta with garlic and olive oil are also terrific, as is the pappardelle with shredded oxtail and tomato sauce and the linguine with moist veal meatballs. The one thing that has changed with the times at The Fior is the prices, which are in the $15 to $30 range, but the portions are huge and perfect for sharing family-style, just the way my grandfather liked it then and the way I like it now. Sometimes change at an old joint is actually a good thing, and in the case of The Franciscan Crab Restaurant, it's a very good thing. Situated in one of the Wharf's most prime locations, the Franciscan languished for years with an uninspired menu and interior. Now, the team behind the Stinking Rose restaurants, Bobo's, The Crab House, the Dead Fish and Calzone's has done a multimillion-dollar remodel to match the panoramic views. Executive chef Andrea Froncillo brings his world-famous whole roasted Dungeness crab and other specialties to the party. The Crab Feast – six succulent pounds, each individual crab weighing in at a meaty two pounds or more – is perfect for a group, and the messy garlic butter sauce is chin-dribbling good and plenty addictive. Froncillo also offers six varieties of fresh fish prepared six different ways – have sturgeon with cannellini beans, Italian sausage and escarole, or salmon in a Thai curry broth with mussels, clams and vegetables. Halibut fans can try it sott'olio with butternut squash, fingerling potatoes, rosemary and garlic with a hint of anchovy, or in a spicy tomato conserva with olives, red creamers and squash. Carnivores can choose from four cuts of slow-roasted prime rib cooked to order, and a prime rib dip sandwich that rivals my favorite prime rib dip at Houston's Restaurant. One of the most exciting things on the menu is the first thing you see – the salumi antipasto bar. Owner Jerry Dal Bozzo paid thousands of dollars for a slicer in Italy, and it was worth every penny, producing translucent slices of prosciutto, salame, mortadella and coppa. You can also order mixed cured olives, fresh-cured anchovies, toybox tomatoes or roasted peppers and onions, octopus condito and a number of other items, one for $6 or a sampler of all 12 for $57. The true highlight for me, though, is the artisanal burrata, made in-house every day. Burrata, a soft Italian cheese that originated in Puglia, consists of an outer shell of solid mozzarella and an inside of both mozzarella and cream. In the kitchen, Froncillo and his staff pour near-boiling water onto mozzarella curd, hand-churn and hand-stretch it and then fill it with a combination of ricotta and mascarpone. While burrata is popping up on menus all over The City, the Franciscan is the only place making their own. Most burrata in San Francisco comes from one company – Gioia, in Southern California. Froncillo's is different – creamier and less "stringy" than Gioia's and actually more of a burricotti because of the addition of the ricotta. While he allowed me to watch him make his version of burrata, Froncillo won't reveal his secret sources for mozzarella curd, mascarpone or ricotta. Secret sources aside, it's delicious – I've been back to the Franciscan twice already for the burrata, and if I could live there I would. Dal Bozzo and team have put in the big bucks but also the tender loving care required to breathe new life into the Franciscan. Years from now, let's hope the new Franciscan will be the oldie but goodie Franciscan still enjoyed by locals and visitors alike. And let's hope that other oldies but goodies like Fior d'Italia are still hoppin', too, because it's the great old joints, with or without a new coat of paint, that make San Francisco so unique. Fior d'Italia: 2237 Mason Street (near Francisco). (415) 986-1886. The Franciscan Crab Restaurant: Pier 43 1/2 at Fisherman's Wharf. (415) 362-7733.

Last Updated ( Friday, 24 November 2006 )