Ex-yaya chef brings Jannah fresh flavor
It’s been a road well traveled for Yahya Salih and his inimitable brand of Middle Eastern food.
The pioneering Iraqborn chef opened his first restaurant, Yaya Cuisine, in 1988 in San Francisco’s South of Market district, and over the next two decades, moved more than a halfdozen times, first to the Sunset, then the Financial District, then the Van Ness corridor, even down to Burlingame.
Three years ago, the chef with the happy feet landed back in San Francisco with Jannah, his newest take on Middle Eastern/California cuisine. Set on the edge of Western Addition and NoPa, in a former brothel, of all places, Jannah carries on the unique flavor combinations that made Salih one of the city’s most popular chefs in the 1990s.
Is there a more intriguing way to start — or end — a meal than with kelecha ($4), datestuffed ravioli blanketed in thick yogurt sauce with walnuts and Parmesan cheese?
Jarring at first bite — it’s a bit like a Fig Newton ravioli — the sweetness soon gives way to sheer appreciation for the unique. It’s also served as a dessert, minus the Parmesan cheese.
Salih also reinvents the classic falafel with his safeehat version ($7). He flattens the garbanzo patty into a crust and bakes it, then tops the crust with the likes of pesto, roasted eggplant, tomatoes and feta. The result is a pizza falafel of sorts, on the oily side, yes, but interesting nonetheless.
So, too, is his mezze platter ($12), which goes beyond the usual hummus and baba ghanoush with options like zuzu ghanoush, a sweet, bright orange puree of carrots and tamarind; and the even sweeter hudhud ghanoush with turnips and dates.
Fans of Salih’s phyllo dishes like the perdaplow ($16.50) and kuzi ($16.50) — large savory pastries in a pool of almost too-sweet fruit sauce — will be happy to know that they’re still delighting diners at Jannah.
But while many of Salih’s dishes are beautifully layered in presentation and flavor — salmon tajeen ($16.50) is a decadent deck of sumacmarinated onions, salmon, eggplant, tomato, and cabbage cooked in a rich tahini sauce — his simplest entrees can fall flat.
Tikka kebabs ($16.50), featuring grilled chunks of meats and salmon, were generally overcooked, and the sides — a choice of hummus, rice, vegetables or salad — were underwhelming. The steamed vegetables, in particular, reminded me of the cauliflower, broccoli and carrot mixes that come in frozen bags.
Dessert was hit-ormiss. The baklava ($4) was fine, but the accompanying rice pudding, more of a thin pool of liquid, was out of place. Better to go with the kahi ($5), a pair of phyllocrusted triangles filled with silky cream and drizzled with berry sauce.
Service was solid, with the staff offering menu suggestions that were knowledgeable and thoughtful; plates were changed during courses as necessary.
And so we come to the conundrum that is Jannah. The food is good, even excellent at times. And yet, the restaurant is too often empty. In three visits, we twice started dinner as the only guests in the main dining room (there’s also a patio in the back).
As nice as it is to have quiet date-night spot or guaranteed table for prime-time dining, I’d be lying if I said the lack of ambience wasn’t a little disconcerting.
And that’s a shame. For all that San Francisco dining has to offer, Jannah still manages to bring something different to the table, wherever in the city Salih may be.