San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
The seafood at S.F.’s new Michelin-starred restaurant might change your life
Mystery, skeletons and the dark ocean play key roles at Aphotic, which opened earlier this year
I was captivated and haunted by the visual of glowing, spindly fish skeletons hanging over a hearth flame when I first sat down at San Francisco’s Aphotic. Lined in a row, the fish carcasses’ mouths were agape, with a hook through the center, and engulfed by smoke as if they were swimming upstream.
This ghoulish scene set the tone for the restaurant’s dark abyss-like setting, and it wouldn’t be the last I saw of the skeletons.
Aphotic, a dramatically dark seafood restaurant named after the substrate of the ocean that gets a meager percentage of light, opened earlier this year and has already earned a Michelin star. It’s easy to imagine chef Peter Hemsley’s previous restaurant in this SoMa space, the bright blue Palette, get swallowed by the ocean and darkened to an imposing black. The exposed wood ceiling looks like the inner ribs of a ship. Light pierces from high-up windows, making you feel submerged in a moody world. The only glow comes from dry-aging fridges and the dining room’s centerpiece: a radiant wood grill and oven.
This is special-occasion dining, eventful in every sense of the word, that you’ll spend the trip home trying to unpack. At this drowned temple in the dark ocean, you revel in groundbreaking seafood all night — everything from the initial bites to the cocktails and even the desserts nod to the sea.
Like a few other Californian restaurants, Hemsley has taken up dry-aging fish. He uses controlled chambers (the very same used for dry-aged steaks) to extract moisture from almost every fish on the menu, resulting in superior texture and richness. There’s an obvious Japanese influence throughout the menu, which makes sense when you consider the culture’s indelible impact on the art of seafood. Only, Hemsley isn’t making sushi, nor is he highlighting Japanese fish. Instead, he sources directly from fishers and aquaculture farms — many of which are in California.
There are two restaurant experiences inside of Aphotic: a 10-course tasting menu ($165) and an a la carte bar menu. They feel completely separate from each other, but no matter what route you choose, you’re in for one hell of an aquatic excursion.
On a recent visit, the tasting menu wasted no time with a flame-kissed trout rice ball that was crisp on the outside with a fudgy, mochi-like center. It was shortly followed by supple, bouncy rockfish slices with a fermented fish sauce known as garum.
One of the most impressive dry-aged items was undoubtedly the bar menu special: a massive, limitedsupply tuna collar ($65), which was generously priced for its imposing size. Nearly a weeklong stint in the dry-ager made it unbelievably tender and gelatinous. It was grilled, lacquered with a fish sauce caramel and served with sushi rice, ponzu and lemon wedges. It’s the sort of food, with juicy meat hidden throughout its many nooks and crannies, that activates a primal part of the brain.
While dry-aged fish is a high point, this oceanic chapel excels at all the sea’s pleasures.
Some dishes are more straightforward, like the tasting menu’s melty, sweet and raw spot prawns around caviar or the shiny, cloud-like milk bun with a crab hollandaise. Meanwhile, the bar’s notably meaty oysters ($22) needed nothing more than a few drops of lemon to excite, and the seaweed salad ($15), with a shiso sorbet dressing, delivered an unwavering crunch.
Other items are unexpected, like the bar’s wonderful seafood charcuterie. The shrimp mortadella ($22) had a similar umami to shrimp chips only in a juicy bologna form, while the tuna saucisson ($16), a toothpick filled with sausage slices and pickled peppers, had a bolder, salamilike profile.
Then there’s the complete subversion of the desserts: a surprising but delightful oyster ice cream — served on a half shell with tart mignonette foam — and the bar’s ultra creamy uni ice cream ($13) served in a spiky sea urchin.
Aphotic has thousands of wine bottles on offer — the wine pairing for the tasting menu runs for $110 — as well as a phenomenal cocktail program characterized by homemade distillates. Trevin Hutchins, the bar director and head distiller, uses a single botanical per spirit to create more precisely flavored gin. That’s on full display with the cocktail pairing ($95), exclusive to the bar — and available by appointment only.
The ambience might be gothic in tone, but the service is marked by a remarkably cozy hospitality. If you’re a nosy diner (like me), this is the right place for you. Each inquiry is met with a Cheshire Cat grin, giddy to share the lore of the restaurant.
One such question might be: What’s the deal with the skeletons?
The tasting menu answered with a crescendoing main course: a buttery skate wing served with a verdant green garlic sauce and a smoked nage — a reduced fish stock mimicking a meat sauce. The latter is where the ghastly fish remains make it to the plate. The bones that hung over the open flame are the very same ones used in the nage, distilled down to an inky gravy along with smoked fish.
Seated on the counter in front of the hearth (arguably the best seat in the house), the realization hit me. It’s a version of the murder-mystery climax where it’s revealed that the killer was among us all along. A fish version of Chekhov’s gun.
Many have tried to pull off the all-seafood concept but few have been able to execute it as graciously, or as theatrically, as Aphotic.