San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
At S.F.’s buzziest Asian American eatery, the best dishes might surprise you
At energetic Piglet, the vegetables can offer as much punch as the meat dishes
If you look around the new Mission District restaurant Piglet & Co., you’ll see faces with mouths agape staring at the exchange of blows plastered on the tube. Kung fu movies play on loop to the sounds of lo-fi hip-hop beats; over the course of a meal, you’ll intimately get to know Jackie Chan’s clumsy but graceful fight choreography.
It’s just one form of comfort served at Piglet, which draws inspiration from Taiwanese night markets but serves a broader menu of Asian comfort food. Opened by chef Chris Yang and partner Marcelle Gonzales Yang in early January, it has already attracted some national buzz: Yang, formerly the chef de cuisine of modern, now-shuttered Hawaiian restaurant Aina in Dogpatch, has grown a following over the years for his two popups, the casual street food-focused El Chino Grande and the modern Taiwanese Henzhi.
At Piglet, the night market inspiration mostly comes through the setting: The red and blue neon glow of lights gives the dark room a neo-noir feeling, like a leftover set from a “John Wick” flick. If you’ve visited Asian American bar Viridian in Oakland, Piglet will feel familiar, but moodier. A painting of a pig watches over the dining room as if it were ripped out of a page from “Lord of the Flies.”
In spite of the pig idolatry, the most captivating parts of the restaurant are the sharply executed vegetables. They emphasize how veggies should comfort as much as any meat; they’re less showy but far more thrilling here.
The most remarkable is the side of luxuriously smoky potatoes ($10). These starchy orbs are coated in egg yolk mayo and garnished with finely chopped fermented cabbage. The interior of each smoked potato is as soft as a cloud, and the bold taste feels like cozying up to a crackling wood-burning furnace.
The vegetable spectacle continues with the cabbage ($19). The cruciferous wedge is charred just shy of incineration then cooked in lard for supreme decadence. Chimichurri and a thick moss-green sauce made of taro leaves brighten up the blackened ordeal. To take things further, order two oilbased sauces on the side: mala sauce ($4) and ginger scallion relish ($4), one for spice and the other for aromatics.
Both of those sauces make it into the seductive rice porridge ($12). The creamy congee is improved with smoked, velvety egg yolk, which melts into the starchy slurry. Even though the rice is cooked for a long time, the grains still possess a bit of their chewiness.
In all likelihood, it’s the flashy items that bring most diners through Piglet’s doors. Perhaps it’s the honey walnut shrimp toast ($18), a reincarnation of the Chinese classic presented over Japanese milk bread. Or maybe it’s the tediously sauced mala ribs ($22), where the four bones are bejeweled with dots of koji mayo, pickled onions and crunchy rice pearls.
These dishes, while undoubtedly creative, aren’t nearly as compelling as the meatless options. The toast comes off as a food portmanteau, combining a shrimp toast and honey walnut shrimp, but the sum doesn’t reach the heights of either dish. Though the ribs are tender, the flavors are somewhat muted. I got better results by spooning the aforementioned side of mala sauce over every bone.
Then there’s the Korean-inspired items like sticky-sweet wings ($25) and pork belly framed as bossam ($25-$35), pork served with banchan and lettuce to enjoy as wraps. Ultimately, they aren’t convincing enough to order here over a traditional Korean joint. In general, they could use more spice.
The steamed fish ($65) was so oily I considered whether it was part of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC). Draped over a whole trout is a bushel of greens slick with burnt-tasting oil, completely distracting from the silky fish. Even the side sauces couldn’t save it, as they only add more oil.
Sundays at Piglet are dedicated to a three-course brunch menu ($45) — an appetizer, rice bowl and dessert. The small tasting menu also has a vegetarian option, and once again, vegetables are more engaging than the meat. The gochujang-slathered cauliflower has an attractive heft, and the wood ear mushrooms and Chinese greens marinated in tare — sweet and salty Japanese marinade — are simply delightful.
That said, there are some exceptions to the order-vegetables rule. The elegant kampachi crudo ($19), for example, is a serene pond of melty fish slivers, citrus, charred avocado, and fried fish skin soaking in ponzu. The collection of complex smoky, citrusy flavors, and disparate crisp and creamy textures, reminded me of a Peruvian ceviche.
There is one problem that could be solved soon: The moody, cool space combined with rich, spiced food begs for booze, but Piglet is still waiting for its alcohol license. Much of the menu feels like bar food — what is chimek (Korean wings and beer) without the beer? The alcohol-free cocktails, unfortunately, don’t cut it; the CBD-infused drinks are canned and feel more in line with a soda.
What’s undeniable about the space is its enthusiastic energy, and it already has the look down. I suspect with some menu tinkering and its future cocktail program, the restaurant will emerge victorious like Bruce Lee in “The Big Boss.”