Sophisticated Italian in a Neighborhood Setting
2931 16th St., San Francisco
Mission District
PH: 415.701.VINO (8466)
Open Tue.–Thu., 11 a.m.–11 p.m.; Fri., Sat., 11 a.m.–midnight; and Sun., 5–10 p.m.
Reservations, major credit cards accepted
www.barbambino.com
You know how a restaurant opens up and gets so extremely popular and then you can’t get around to going to it so a few years pass and then when you check it out it’s like a totally new restaurant to you? Well, that’s how I felt walking into Bar Bambino for the first time recently.
Bar Bambino is a tiny Italian-style restaurant that opened in 2007 in the opposite end of the Mission neighborhood, away from more bustling spots along Valencia and Guerrero Streets. When it opened, it attracted the hip crowd with its sleek interiors and the food styling of Chef Elizabeth Binder. Like all hot spots, they didn’t take reservations so people had to wait and create more buzz in the front.
When I arrived a couple of weeks ago, the place was quiet and it was like I was entering some undiscovered neighborhood gem. Despite being open a few years, everything looked sparkling new.
I met my friend David for an early dinner, and I told him about the patio seating and how it would be cool to check it out. Apparently, it’s so cool that you need a reservation to eat outdoors in the back of the restaurant. We didn’t think we needed reservations when dining so early, but David was able to convince them to seat him in the patio before I arrived.
The patio is a pretty large space with warm wood panels running across the walls and a plastic covering, which makes it a usable space any time of the year. Unfortunately, the day we dined in the patio was when we had the heat spell in the Bay Area (we’ve had some funky weather lately) so the plastic covering acted like a greenhouse effect. (I’ll explain how this affected dinner later.)
We were greeted by our server, who was enthusiastic—both in the way he greeted us and his apparent love and knowledge of the wine and food menus. It was clear that he had a deep knowledge of Bar Bambino’s eclectic all-Italian wine list and how diners should properly appreciate its Italian-inspired menu.
While at times I found our server’s “enthusiasm” a bit like being lectured on the proper way to dine at Bar Bambino, I did appreciate how accommodating he was in helping me select a wine by letting me have a few tastes. And later when I inquired about the oddity of having an olive oil tasting with dinner (you pay to try different Italian olive oils), he brought out some trays of olive oil for me to understand the experience.
As for the food, David and I shared a few dishes. We started with the Fava Bean and Pea Tendril Salad ($8), which was this bright and beautiful ode to spring. The pea tendrils mixed with the truffled pecorino and were brightened by the honey vinaigrette that had a welcomed tartness for balance. It was like an extra zing in the salad. The fava beans all ended up at the bottom of the plate, but there were enough of them to enjoy the freshness of this seasonal ingredient.
Next came the Egg Bruschette ($11.50), which was two pieces of grilled bread topped with soft-poached eggs and Parmigiano-Regianno. I liked the fact that there was a slight acidic taste in the bruschette, which really helped to cut into the egg and cheese. But the poached egg was inconsistent in texture. One egg was nearly hard boiled and the second was more like soft boiled. (I ate both because David avoided the egg yolk and stuck with the whites.)
After our starters, we ordered some pasta. David really wanted to try the pasta with broccoli rabe because he makes this a lot at home and wanted to see if a restaurant version could be any better. I was dying to try the rabbit sugo because I love rabbit and anything slow cooked. So we ordered both.
Bar Bambino’s pasta dishes are on the small side, so it’s the perfect portion if you decide to have a pasta course before your entrée. (I wouldn’t recommend just the pasta as an entrée since 1) that’s not how they do it in Italy and 2) it’s not large enough to fill you up unless you order a bunch of other small dishes.)
The Pappardelle with Sugo di Coniglio ($14.50) was full of flavor and well worth trying. The house-made pasta draped the braised rabbit ragout so well, acting both as a complement to the meat and a vehicle to carry it on your fork.
The Bucatini with Heirloom Rapini ($12.50) was equally enlightening, but in a different way. The cooked rapini—did you know rapini is the same as broccoli rabe? I just learned that from David—clumped together in a good way so that it could cling to the thick bucatini. This dish was both comforting and hearty.
At this point, David and I were questioning our decision in having two pasta dishes. While both were good, the heat of the hothouse garden made it a bit difficult to have much of an appetite. (In fact, several people came and went because they decided they couldn’t eat in the patio with the heat.) So when our final course of the Puglian-style Braised Lamb Shank ($18.50) arrived, I was ready to stretch out and take a nap.
The lamb shank was very Flintstone-like with the huge bone, and it was served with nocellara olives, which David declared “the best olives I’ve ever tasted.” I don’t know if he was joking or not because the olives were pretty good but then I noticed on the menu that in the description of the dish, the restaurant states that the dish is “finished with the best olives you’ll ever taste.”
Either way, it was pretty darn good, and the lamb shank was fall-off-the-bone tender. Still, I wasn’t blown away with the flavors. Braised in white wine and cinnamon, the tastes were generic to me, like I’ve tasted them in other braised meats before.
We actually took home several parts of our dinner. (We also ordered a side of pan-roasted artichokes, $6.50, which were perfectly cooked with pancetta.) So this meant there really wasn’t any room for dessert.
Despite skipping dessert, our meal at Bar Bambino was very satisfying. I enjoyed the surprise flavors in our pastas and starters, and appreciated the care taken in providing a genuine Italian eating experience. Bar Bambino looks more like a hip Manhattan spot rather than a rustic Italian restaurant, but the food gives it its Italian creds.
Single guy rating: 3.75 stars (California twist to Italian)
Explanation of the single guy's rating system:
1 star = perfect for college students
2 stars = perfect for new diners
3 stars = perfect for foodies
4 stars = perfect for expense accounts
5 stars = perfect for any guy's dream dinner
Summary only...
Last weekend I spotted these young eggplants at a stand at the Civic Center Farmers’ Market in San Francisco. I’m not a fan of the eggplant, which I’ve blogged in the past as the cardboard of the vegetable world. But I have to admit I was intrigued by the color and the slender, elongated shape of these particular eggplants.
Angry Killer Eggplant. This is the real eggplant. Angry. Menacing. With some oddly placed red eyes. Here it is outside a nondescript college campus building, probably plotting how to rescue his fellow eggplants that have been set aside to be made into soggy deep-fried eggplant parmesan.
Eggplant-O-lanterns. Again, the eggplant can be spooky. I’m sure it harbors a lot of jealously for its cousin the pumpkin who always look luscious in autumnal orange. What kid would accept candy from this motley crew?
Some people thought they could fool me by making the eggplant cute like penguins. But I’m on to you, eggplant. You can’t fool me with your shiny skin and elongated neck. You’re still full of mush.
A Delaware County woman on the East Coast was cutting her eggplant (and yes, she was prepping them to be deep fried) when the seeds of one slice seem to spell out the word “God” to her. Divine intervention? More the work of Satan, I say. Don’t succumb to the belief that eating the eggplant will get you through the pearly gates. Ain’t gonna happen.
OK, now I do feel sorry for this eggplant, peeled just partially by the woman behind the food blog Mama’s Taverna for her recipe for Fried Eggplant with Garlicky Tomato-Vinegar sauce. It is sad how we bloggers will treat our food this way, cutting into them and then forcing them to pose for pictures. In this case, for a semi-nude layout! I’m starting to understand the eggplant’s anger.
Further humiliation comes in Israel where an ad agency called this eggplant fat and dressed it in some jacked up bikini just to make a point for a new Magimix XL food processor. (The tag line? “Big Is In.”)
And here’s another beautiful shot of the eggplant (not by me) showcasing again its rich beautiful color and curvaceous body. I give you props, eggplant, that you make a damn good model. But I won’t give in. No, you are not tasty. You may trick others to buy into you, disguising yourself in various shapes and forms. But I’ve got your number.
