State Bird Provisions is Far From Clueless

So, okay, I don’t want to be a traitor to my generation and all, but I don’t get how restaurants get hipster cred today. I mean, come on, it’s like they just fell out of bed and put on some baggy pants and take their greasy hair ew, and cover it up with a backwards cap and like, we’re expected to swoon? 

“I don’t think so!” is my typical response.  While I simultaneously check out a menu on my iPhone5…with envy.  The truth is, if SF Weekly and 7x7 and Bold Italic are covering a restaurant [and my friends are subsequently tweeting and posting and commenting “I want to eat all of the food” on said articles, which is how they make it into my frame of reference] then I want to eat there.  I don’t want to stamp my foodie passport or wait in line with potentially famous people.  I want to put it in my mouth and experience the bliss of rarest umami without worrying about the bill or the calories.

And how often is it the case that a rave review elicits the same ecstasy the writer experienced (as they were likely being carried in on a golden throne by hunky tuxedo-clad waiters and provided tasting bites of every single delicious morsel as the Chef triple-checks and plates the dishes himself)?  Not often, right?  Because inevitably, the hostess is annoyed or the wait is over an hour even with a reservation or the corkage fee is exorbitant or you’re too close to the service area/bathroom/bar/door. 

So, okay, State Bird Provisions is different.

Open for about 18 months and still impossible to book, State Bird keeps a third of tables for walk-ins, one of which I was lucky enough to nab.  The menu is a simple affair with pancakes, Commandables (mains) and desserts for order.  But about as quick as you can decide you want to try everything on the menu, the first dim sum-style tray of goodies arrives to hawk at your table.  In our case, he had duck liver mousse with tiny, beautiful almond biscuits; a familiar flavor combination delivered with an unusually pleasant texture, that of a fine scone and clotted cream.  It was the perfect beginning.

Next: Heirloom tomato salad with eggplant prepared like a cousin to baba ghanoush with expertly applied virgin olive oil and the crunch of sea salt flakes.  Then: Steak tartare with Romesco sauce and extra crispy potato chips.  Again, none of these dishes were particularly divergent from their normal-restaurant counterparts, but each was absolutely transcendent.  Spicy, nutty, smoky Romesco sauce was a lovely departure from traditional Dijon mustard and the steak got to be the hero instead of usually-overpowering capers and raw onion.

At this point, our sweet corn and Mt. Tam shortstack of mini-pancakes arrived off the menu.  Presumably fashioned as a take off of scallion pancakes, these were so gooey and savory-sweet that I found myself taking micro-bites.  (You know, when you go to take a bite but become worried you’re eating such a masterpiece too quickly so you cut it in half and then repeat this until what’s left on your fork is literally a corn kernel.)

Our next three plates of provisions arrived in quick succession: Salmon tartare prepared with a crunchy vegetable somewhere between onion and celery over crisp cucumbers with baked sesame quinoa crumbled over the top.  Roasted balsamic figs tenderly resting in a pool of creamy Wagon Wheel fondue.  And raw Belle Soleil oysters with pickled kohlrabi and spicy chili oil, topped by sesame seeds.  Each dish was just big enough for a party of four to share and get a few delicious bites, but (equally importantly) small enough to order lots!

Off the Commandables menu, our pork spare ribs and CA state bird were served.  The ribs were so eager to fall off the bone, they had to be carefully delivered to each plate.  Not overly salty or sticky or spicy, these ribs demanded your full attention to their succulent balance of tender and crispy.  The state bird (quail) was buttermilk fried over an aged hard cheese sliced impossibly thin.  Quails are not large birds, so each bite was delicate yet approachable.  For the first time in my life, I understand the desire for a bucket of such fried poultry.

At this point, the wine was flowing and my recollection of the specifics of each plate was diminishing, but we ate: grilled, deliciously tender octopus with chickpeas; deep-friend garlic bread (yep, you read that right) smothered in burrata; ever-so-lightly-fried crispy pork hock salad with mint and jalapeno; rainbow quinoa and sweet corn salad with ricotta; an impressively thick “slab” of nori cooked to be just crunchy enough to break simply, topped with buttery raw albacore, dollops of citrusy-avocado mousse and elegant herbs.  One of the highlights (among highlights) were the fried green tomatoes over more eggplant deliciousness with oily fried padron peppers and basil leaves, pimento aioli and the sweetest of cherry tomatoes.

You would think we could be rolled out of the restaurant at this point.  We only said no to two proposed provisions: the rabbit with boiled potatoes and the cooked salmon.  Only because our table was too full to make room for the plates.

And then we ordered dessert.  The menu was just obscure enough, actually, make that completely obscure.  “Birdseed bittersweet chocolate crunch, caramel cloud cream, blueberries” is actually what’s on the menu.  We needed help.  Our waitress recommended the birdseed which was a really different texture combo of creamy sweet custard with Nestle Crunch-esque chunks of unsweetened chocolate.  Also, an extremely minty ice cream sandwich and a light-as-air coconut tapioca topped with strawberry and Indian blood peach (a wild plum and white peach hybrid none other than Thomas Jefferson invented) grantia and drizzled caramelized honey.  So sweet yet nothing overpowering. 

Every dish was worth savoring.  I enjoyed State Bird so much more than I have many other restaurants in San Francisco.  Specializing in slightly Asian plates with decadent ingredients in bite-sized portions for maximum access to layers upon layers of flavor, I would brave crowds of hipsters, lines filled with exasperated Important People and even a bill to match my excess.  Guys, there's a reason this place is so in demand.  Grab your skinny jeans, comb your beard, order another pair of plaid Warby Parkers and get in line.  

Complete list of (my) provisions on August 8, 2013:

·      Duck liver mousse with almond biscuits

·      Heirloom tomato salad with eggplant

·      Steak tartare with potato chips and Romesco sauce

·      Sweet corn & Mt. Tam short stack pancakes

·      Salmon tartare over cucumbers with sesame quinoa crumble

·      Raw oyster with pickled kohlrabi

·      Roasted balsamic fig over Wagon Wheel fondue

·      Pork spare ribs glazed in their own juices

·      CA State bird with provisions (buttermilk fried)

·      Grilled octopus over chickpeas and tomato sauce

·      Garlic fried bread with burrata

·      Pork belly salad with jalapeño and mint

·      Fried green tomatoes, eggplant & padrons with pimenton aioli

·      Quinoa with sweet corn and ricotta

·      Nori with albacore and avocado cream

·      Mint ‘ice cream’ sandwich, chocolate plum coulis, pistachios

·      Birdseed bittersweet chocolate crunch, caramel cloud cream, blueberries

·      Strawberry & indian blood peach granite, coconut tapioca, caramelized honey