Is it fair to judge a restaurant a mere two weeks after opening and post a negative review on a public blog? Probably not. But then, District doesn't bill itself as a restaurant, and this review is only marginally about the food selection.
It is, however, a review of a poorly designed (but beautiful) space, paired with inadequate service (from beautiful people), to serve the needs of a burgeoning ("beautiful-people") population South of Market. Are you seeing a pattern?
District's space is stunning -- high ceilings, exposed beams and brick, gorgeous lighting and artwork. Unfortunately, this is an acoustic nightmare once you pack a couple hundred people in, and only made worse by the thumping sounds of Om Records ricocheting off every surface.
Logistically, too, there is little to love. A large ovalish bar sits just about in the center of the cavernous space, which wouldn't be a problem in and-of-itself. It's just that, once people are two and three deep against it, all the pathways to the far sides of the room are nearly impassable. We were lucky enough to score two seats at the bar, and rarely were we left "unbumped" for more than two minutes. That makes it hard to maintain your "beautiful-people" look, you know?
Now, had there been a host at the front door, helping people find their way either to one of the many "niches" or to an appropriate section of the bar, most of this headache might have been avoidable. There is something about walking into a space that's neither bar nor restaurant nor lounge that can be disconcerting, and this one pretty much demands a host or hostess.
Once we were finally seated with a glass of Schramberg Mirabelle Rose ($10), we took a look at the menu, comprised mostly of small plates and a few desserts. We settled on three choices, placed our order, and requested a second glass of wine each.
{Seeing as how this is, after all, a wine bar, a few words about the selections would be appropriate. The wine list is eclectic, with something for everyone. A few choices cater to the more mainstream palate, while the more adventuresome will find plenty to try and love. I really enjoyed a stainless-fermented Domaine Stirn Muscat, and an excellent, EXCELLENT Adami Prosecco, both about $10/glass). Plus, they pour Movia's Pinot Nero by the glass, and I admire that chutzpah.}
About five minutes after ordering, we were presented with Beef Carpaccio ($14), slathered in what I can only describe as bottled Caesar-salad dressing. As the bartender set it down, he asked, "Can I get you guys anything else?" I reminded him of our remaining food items, and he said, "Oh, sorry, I didn't get those - it'll be just a few minutes."
OK, no problem! It's loud, and you're busy, and hey, you're so pretty I'm going to forgive and forget!
Five minutes later (right after we nearly had to stab a different bartender as she overzealously tried to sweep away the last of our carpaccio), our Arancini ($10-ish) arrived. Slightly underseasoned, but the arrabiata-style sauce under them was perfection - spicy, savory, tangy, tomatoey goodness. The fried sage leaves rounded everything out nicely, and we polished the three rice balls off lickety-split.
A barback comes along and clears our plates, and we think, "how nice, fresh plates for our Salumi ($12)." Uh-huh. You know where this is going, right?
Pretty bartender comes back to check our glasses and clears our silverware, and I say, "Um, we do have an order of Salumi coming, right?" He responds, "Oh, did you want Salumi, too?"
Now, I don't think three small plates between two people is, you know, excessive. Am I right? So why did he find it so surprising? And why, when I made it clear that we were EXPECTING the salumi, did he have to ask me if I WANTED said salumi? At this point, pretty is becoming something of a liability.
The salumi, when it DID arrive was stunning. Very good prosciutto, yes. But then... then, "Mole" from Salumi Cured Meats, spiced with chocolate, cinnamon, ancho and chipotle peppers. Fra' Mani soppressata, all delicious and moist and sliced paper-thin, as it should be.
While we were making out with this selection of meaty goodness, a party of three standing behind us ordered a bottle of wine. (That logistics thing rears it's ugly head again -- the bar is PACKED at this point, and these folks had nowhere to PUT said bottle of wine. Hardly their fault, as this is, after all, a WINE BAR).
Bartender brings over the wine, opens, pours a taste for the gentleman, awkwardly passing it to him over my head. Gentleman says, "I'm sure it's fine", and they swap glasses and bottle for cash. Bartender counts it out, and says, "This isn't enough."
"Excuse me?", says the gentleman, "I gave you $46." Pretty bartender hands the gentleman a wine list and says, "The bottle is $48. See, right there, it says $48." Gentleman looks at the menu and says, "Noooooo... it SAYS $40."
Bartender looks at the wine list again, looks at the cash in his hand, says, "Oh, I was looking at something else" and unceremoniously turns away.
Seriously? That's it? No, "Whoops, silly me!"? Not a smile, not a soupcon of humor or apology or even something resembling humility? NOTHING? Awful. Shameful. Ick.
So, what's the verdict? The food and the wine are fine -- very good, even. And the space is beautiful. But District has some serious work to do in order to bring service up to snuff, and they really ought to consider placing a hostess stand up front to help guide the flow of traffic. Otherwise, it risks becoming a victim of its "all-things-to-all-(beautiful)-people" mentality.
District-SF
216 Townsend Street
San Francisco
415.896.2120
Tags: Food, Wine, Food & Drink, San Francisco, District, Wine Bar, Restaurants