Bellota captures bold flavors of Spain.
Spain is celebrated at the Absinthe team’s latest San Francisco hot spot, Bellota.
The black vestibule at Bellota has a tunnel-like feel, dramatically framing the kitchen at the top of the stairs. It’s like entering the narthex of a culinary cathedral, with all the expected symbolism and symmetry. The expansive open kitchen is sequestered behind a brass altar, with workstations on either side and a center island lined with terra-cotta pots. The flicker of flames from the wood oven produces a dappled glow over the entire space.
In a church you’d probably see a cross on the front of the altar; at Bellota, it’s an acorn and a leaf. Instead of flowers on either side, there’s a haunch of Iberico ham, famous for its flavor because the pigs eat acorns.
There’s little doubt this 2-month-old restaurant is designed to celebrate Spanish cuisine in a very vibrant way. Designed by Sagan Piechota Architecture, Bellota (”acorn” in Spanish) is the latest restaurant by the Absinthe Group, which owns five other properties including Absinthe, the Boxing Room and Comstock Saloon.
Bellota is the Absinthe Group’s most ambitious project, and its best.
Paella is the specialty, and chef Ryan McIlwraith prepares four varieties, including a takeoff on Rice-A-Roni ($40), the “San Francisco treat,” made with both noodles and rice. Similarities end there. The rice is black from squid ink and brightened with asparagus, shrimp, squid and wellseared scallops.
For anyone who appreciates the caramelized crust at the bottom of the pan, called soccarat, Bellota is the pinnacle. At most places, it tastes as if the rice is spooned into the pan, and if there’s any caramelization, it’s only around the edges. Not at Bellota; instead of a spoon, McIlwraith serves paella with a spatula, so diners can pry up the crust that extends from the edges to the center. The rice on top is still moist and firm, a perfect contrast to what’s on bottom. My favorite version features chunks of Iberico pork shoulder, garbanzo beans, corn and squash blossoms ($45). There’s also one with braised chicken, chorizo, cauliflower, padron peppers and tomato ($38); and a vegetarian option ($40) with chanterelles, corn, cherry tomato, piquillo peppers and garlic.
Diners also have the option of ordering two in one pan. I was skeptical about this — until I tried it on my final visit. They use a pan with a metal divider down the center so flavors remain separate. All paellas at Bellota have one thing in common, however: A perfectly caramelized rice crust.
From most vantage points in the 120-seat dining room, guests can observe the kitchen, outfitted with a special paella grill and a wood-fired plancha and oven.
To the right of the entrance to the historic four-story building is a horseshoeshaped bar that seats 24; there’s also a 26-seat lounge in front of a wall of blackframed warehouse windows. On the opposite side of the kitchen is the dining room, highlighted with booths distinguished by tufted leather walls and bay laurel tables. Similar floor-to-ceiling paned windows overlook the emerging neighborhood on Brannan Street.
Every element seems to have been considered in the design: The drops in ceiling height are framed with soffits with lacelike cutouts lit from behind to give a Moorish feel; similar patterns are subtly painted on the massive cement support columns. Then there’s the smooth, powdery feel of the bar as you glide your hand across the expanse; the comfortable blue leather chairs in the dining room; the polished concrete floors as shiny as marble; and even the noise level where the ceiling is outfitted with acoustical tiles. It may not look as beautiful as a raw open ceiling, but it’s music to my ears. There’s still a lively buzz but the distracting notes are softened — much like noisecanceling headphones — so diners can carry on a conversation. It also helps to create good acoustics for the live music that plays in the bar on many nights.
Jonny Raglin, the Absinthe Group’s director of bars, serves an impressive “gin tonic” where diners can choose from a selection of spirits and mixers. The waiters bring a bottle of tonic, a carafe of the chosen gin and a bulbous glass filled with ice and a big corsage of herbs — thyme, rosemary, orange twists and other aromatics, depending on the combination. The beverages overseen by Michael Goss include 29 Sherries, and a 200-strong Spanish wine list separated by region. Truly there’s something for everyone.
The food offerings are as extensive as the spirit offerings, rejecting the trend of truncated menus featured at most new restaurants.
Aside from paella, Bellota seriously stars in charcuterie, visible not only in the haunches that flank the front counter but also at the end of the impressive bar, where a glass locker holds dozens more in reserve. The restau-
rant features a charcuterie platter ($40) with a selection of meat, cheese and pan con tomate, the tomato bread found in every tapas bar in Spain.
A land-and-sea tower ($50 for two) presents five offerings at different levels: poached surf clams with pimento and potatoes; silken sablefish with trout roe, orange and romesco sauce; Pacific oysters brightened with Cava, apple and a hint of espelette; grass-fed beef tartare blended with oysters; and steamed octopus. Each is available individually for $11 and worth considering before the main event, the paella.
The 10 tapas include familiar items such as bravas ($9), squares of potatoes that are crisp and light as if pumped with air, or Little Gem lettuce salad ($12) with blistered corn, stone fruit, almonds and basil vinaigrette.
While these dishes hit the right notes, other classics feel like generic background music. I could pass on the yogurt-braised chicken meatballs ($16) that were bland and a little mushy. Same with the shrimp-stuffed cannelloni ($16), where the pasta fell apart with the lightest touch of the fork, and the tortilla Espanola, which barely held together and needed a boost of seasoning.
However, anything kissed by flames is fully realized. McIlwraith, who was the chef de cuisine at Coqueta on the Embarcadero, has perfected the four dishes from the hearth section, all designed to be served family style. Whole roast sea bass ($38) is mostly boned and splayed on a platter with shelling beans, ham and preserved lemon. The other three dishes are available in two sizes: white bean and chorizo stew ($22/$42) with pork belly, octopus and charred and fermented cabbage; slow-roasted slices of lamb ($20/$38) served with crisp, blistered flatbread and pudding-like ember-roasted eggplant; and grilled T-bone steak ($50/$100) with Basque chimichurri and bone-marrow hollandaise.
The hearth also adds smoky luster to four side dishes ($10), including grilled spring onions on Catalan tomato sauce blanketed with Idiazabal cheese; and roasted broccoli with walnuts and kumquats.
There’s so much to see in the 5,400-square-foot space that on my first visit to Bellota, we didn’t save room for the pintxos cart that travels around the dining room with snacks: olives, almonds, cheese cubes, and skewers of olives, peppers and anchovies. They are all fine, but I hope that eventually they will expand and offer more interesting items.
Part of the problem is that the cart service lags. Ideally it should roll by as diners order their first cocktail. However, it’s one of the few issues that needs to be resolved in terms of service. General manager Tracy Smyth worked for many years at Foreign Cinema and knows her way around the dining room. At times, servers, clad in long aprons with red straps crossed at the back, can become a little too enthusiastic — and come across as pushy — but conversely they are generally there when needed. It’s a fine balance that still hasn’t quite found its equilibrium.
Reservations are already hard to nab, and as good as the food is now, it will likely continue to improve over time. Owner Bill RussellShapiro has created a restaurant where everyone can convert to the church of the acorn.