Editor Pick
Bacar
- May 5, 2007
- Rated 5 of 5 by
callen60 from Ozarks, Missouri
My sister-in-law, who lives in the Bay Area, teased us about our chichi dinner spot. Evidently Bacar currently enjoys a high reputation in San Francisco, so—especially since I was a guest—I was looking forward to dinner on my first evening in town.
The idea here is to match food and wine well, pairing wines from all over the world with a seasonal menu featuring fresh, local ingredients. They claim that over 1,400 wines are available by the bottle, and at any one time, over 50 are available by the glass. Obviously, California wines are a part, but the list I saw drew liberally from wineries all over the world.
An oenophile’s paradise, this brick building on Brannan features high windows and three levels. The stairs just inside lead up to the high-ceiling first floor with bar and dining area, or down to the more intimate lower level, which—although I have a hard time pointing to anything specific—continually suggests a pleasant, open wine cellar.
The entire west side is a wine rack, with bottles aligned horizontally and parallel to the wall, the labels only barely and occasionally visible through streaked, bubbly glass. The menu outside—as we examined it later—is concise but interesting. It was also irrelevant, since we were among the 40 guests of a vendor, seated on the lower level and provided with a set menu. Everything was selected except the entrée, with one red and one white wine to accompany the meal. Both were terrific, but without my notebook handy, my memory fails me in recalling what they were.
Three appetizers arrived first, the best of which was a smoked ahi tuna that I could have eaten all night. The meal continued with a salad, enlivened by beets, candied walnuts, and chevre mousseline (much of which ended on my plate, as I was the happy beneficiary of others’ dislike). The entrée choices were an Australian rack of lamb or a Mesquite grilled ribeye. I picked the beef, one of the best ribeye steaks I’ve had—perfectly grilled with geometrically ideal diamond-shaped grill marks; just short of crispy on the outside and juicy within. It was served with fingerling potatoes and steamed fresh asparagus. The bread was, of course, sourdough, with a lightly sweetened butter that fit well. The wait staff kept the breadbasket (and our wineglasses) full, although I had to beg for my red wine glass to be returned after opting for a first glass of the chardonnay that was served.
The meal began near sunset, and the street-level windows added a little extra ambience around the draped curtains at the room's end. By the time the chocolate mousse arrived, it was truly nighttime, about as dark as my chocolate and my coffee. The food, setting and service were all terrific, and I’d love to eat here again. Doing so on my own dime, however, would set me back—salad, entrée, dessert, and wine would easily run $100 per person. (You could economize, I suppose, or come for the three-course lunch on Fridays for $21.95).
From journal Back to the Bay