Tartine rises to the occasion
In setting and concept, the Manufactory takes next step in dining evolution
The Manufactory seems like a curious name for a restaurant until you step into the new Tartine production facility and are confronted with several thousand pounds of organic flour stacked on a palette in 50-pound bags. They sit in front of a room enclosed by windows revealing a cadre of white-clad bakers portioning and proofing the celebrated loaves of bread.
Yet that’s only part of what’s going on in the 5,000-squarefoot warehouse space next to the Heath Ceramics showroom and studio. There’s coffee roasting, ice cream manufacturing, an open kitchen and an expansive dining room lit by dozens of parchment balls dangling from the open-trussed ceiling. Tables fill two sides of the 95seat space, which includes a bar surrounded by wine bottles.
I always wondered what the next iteration of the exhibition kitchen would be, and this must be it. Here you see just about every step of the production process. Yet the warehouse setting created by Tartine’s Elisabeth Prueitt and Chad Robertson is far from depressing or drab; the interior is sleekly designed so diners have the benefit of the side shows but still feel like they are dining. With paned warehousestyle windows on two sides, light floods in, and even on gloomy days the dining room feels open and airy.
Much has been written about the Manufactory, and the lines have been long for breakfast and lunch; oftentimes there are about as many people waiting outside as there are seats inside. On at least three occasions I drove by with the intention of stopping, but even with the lure of the fabulous pastries, I couldn’t abide the lines and the prospect of scrambling for a seat inside.
In November, three months after opening, all that changed when the owners added dinner hours, offering both reservations and full table service. It’s a godsend for those of us who refuse to stand in line.
Diners get some of the benefits from breakfast (OK, you’ll miss out on the morning buns) and lunch, but without the hassle. At breakfast, the nowfamous porchetta sandwich is topped with an egg. At lunch and dinner, it doesn’t have the egg and is stacked with arugula, juicy pork and a salsa verde that cuts the grease.
Dinner, in fact, is much more relaxing and elaborate. A meal might start with dishes that include bread, such as stracciatella and bottarga smørrebrød on Danish rye ($8), and a flawless marriage of tangy toasted sourdough ($16) stacked high with cool local crab salad.
Bread is a prime component throughout the menu. Chef Sam Goinsalvos, who came from one of my favorite restaurants in New York, Il Buco Alimentari, is a masterful fit for the space, and the rusticity implicit in the dinner menu.
I’m still mentally debating whether I like the chicken and pork bone broth ($10) more than the toast that accompanied it. In this world of rankings and top 10 lists, it almost seems mandatory to decide, but I’ll declare a tie. Besides, they are better together than either one is individually, the mark of a truly great dish. The rich broth, topped with a slick of fat, is accompanied by thin slices of jalapeño, a pile of cilantro and a wedge of lime, and has an intensity that belies the lightness of the clarified liquid. Whether you add the chiles and herbs or sip it plain, it’s one of the most restorative starters around.
While just about everything at the Manufactory is better with bread, there are a few exceptions. The toasted crumbs scattered on the puntarelle salad ($14) came across as gritty, while the steeliness of the greens and the funk of the dressing made it feel as if I were grazing in a pasture. The Little Gem salad ($14) had the opposite effect and was as fresh as air after a gentle rain. The small leaves of lettuce blended with tender sprigs of herbs, coins of radishes, half-moons of apples and a triad of citrus, with undercurrents of sweetness and spice from the yuzu-kosho dressing.
The earthiness I remember from Il Buco marries perfectly with the West Coast’s contribution of petrale sole ($34), salt-baked and served whole on the platter with preserved lemon
and pickled onions.
This style of peasant cooking also works admirably in other dishes: shelling beans and pancetta in a mushroom broth ($10); a grain porridge with roasted mushrooms and Parmesan ($15); and roasted carrot salad ($10) with Castelventrano olive and herb salsa.
The staff — who is more efficient and pleasant than staff at other new restaurants — is quick to point out that dishes are meant to be shared. As is often the case, the words don’t always follow actions. While we got two bowls to share the bone broth, I saw that at another table, the bowl and two spoons were placed in the center of the table, making it a shared pot.
A nightly special of prime rib ($38) rivals what you’ll get at House of Prime Rib and included au gratin potatoes on one visit and smashed and fried whole potatoes on another. However, on one visit the waiter brought two saucers that were too small for the thick cut of meat. We asked for larger plates and were quickly accommodated.
As might be expected given the reputation of Tartine’s pastries, dessert is a highlight — but not because of the baked goods. The creamy, smooth ice cream always stole the show. The star, which is also available for takeout in the restaurant’s adjacent ice cream shop, is Rocky Road ice cream pie with house-made marshmallows, pecans and warm caramel. It’s $18, but is rich enough to serve four.
There’s also rice pudding ($10) and pavlova ($12), where the meringue is topped with vanilla ice cream and surrounded by satsuma and passion fruit.
At any time of day, the Manufactory projects a special, bustling vibe. It lures diners into a fully functioning work space that moves the San Francisco dining scene forward in a unique, delicious way.