An episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous featuring 1980s superstar chef Jeremiah Tower is what inspired Michael Mina to cook. But instead of pursuing the hyper-visible, rich-and-famous trajectory like so many other celebrity chefs, he remained in the kitchen, building one of the biggest empires in the American culinary landscape, with at least 20 restaurants to the Michael Mina Group's name, and a reputation for continual refinement.
If not Mina's flagship — that would be the eponymous restaurant at 252 California Street — RN74 is still a cornerstone. A few months after chef Adam Sobel left for Middle'terranea, the company's pop-up test kitchen in the Marina, Michael Lee Rafidi has taken over the kitchen, putting out a menu of inspired French dishes that keep one foot in maître d'-free, 21st-century dining and another in Larousse Gastronomique. Although I don't like griping about constraints — lest I sound self-pitying about my job duties — it was tougher to stay under budget at RN74 than at any other restaurant I've reviewed thus far. (Sadly, no $120 roasted crown of duck for this table.) But to better contextualize my meal, I'll present it first in terms of negative space: We did not get the Lobster Thermidor, the red snapper, or the $100 caviar donut with fromage blanc, speck, and uni. And we skipped the $3100 methuselah of Bouchard Volnay "Caillerets" Cuvee Ancienne Carnot 1996.
What we did eat was uniformly precise. If the idea of dining at the mercy of a chef who cooks with wild abandon sounds abhorrent to you, RN74 might be your place. It's clear that Mina's core principle might be summed up as: "Across 20 restaurants, we are only as good as our worst dish." Peppery and nicely portioned, the fried cauliflower with uni aioli, duck fat bread crumbs, and chili flakes ($12) embodied this philosophy. That it looked more like a plate of cerebral cortices than cauliflower didn't matter at all; Rafidi's deft hand let the once-humble cruciferous vegetable support the duck fat and uni without being engulfed by them.
Even better was the foie gras parfait ($21), a smear of quince, pumpkin seed granola, and duck skin crackling that looked as if it had teleported onto the table from a mid-20th-century holiday cookbook. (This is a presentation method that needs to be judicious. Overdo it, like Millennium does with a number of dishes, and the effect is lost.) Studded with clear and opaque cubes of quince paste, this parfait was divine on the two fat slices of toast, but at least one forkful needs to be eaten on its own to appreciate the foie's subtleties. Let it melt on the tongue unimpeded by something as quotidian as bread.
Like high-end garlic knots, the Burgundy escargot croissants ($18) had enough pesto to overpower the taste and texture of the escargot. That could cut both ways: Me, I'm always slightly disappointed when I can't discern the snailiness. But they were tasty, there were nine of them, and I always appreciate a nasturtium on top.
While the entrees were similarly meticulous, their comparatively larger size made them harder to appreciate. The contents of the late-summer ratatouille tart with a grilled patty pan squash, burrata, tomato jam, and olive ($26) seemed to have been roasted or otherwise prepared individually before the final assembly, but the dish lacked an element to tie them together. Meanwhile, the butter-roasted Mary's chicken (with truffle farfalle and trumpet royale mushrooms, $32) was perfectly cooked and very flavorful, although I can recommend a dozen chicken dishes that are just as good for a lot less money.
Dessert upheld the same standards of thoroughness. The fresh crullers ($11), light and eggy, came straight from the fryer with strawberry-rhubarb jam. I would have preferred it to be a little more tart and a little less sweet, but at an hour when most of the time zone's doughnuts are already stale, a 2-minute-old pastry is a great note to end on.
From the kitchen, exactitude spills into the dining room, where specials are advertised on a repurposed train station arrival board, and onto the website, which is part of michaelmina.net and not a standalone url — and has no fewer than 10 separate menus, including a differentiation between the wine list and the wine bar. And the house spelling of "aïoli" doesn't omit the umlaut.
RN74 epitomizes the intersection between casual and upscale that characterizes mid-2010s San Francisco. The menu is anything but modest, and this is one of the rare S.F. restaurants where patrons might wear neckties but the vibe isn't stuffy. I'm always conflicted about cheering on restaurants that are well above the median price range; as with Napa Cabernets, where the cost can go up and up, there's no cap on the entrees here (although, to be fair, all the cocktails are $12 and all the desserts are $11). In spite of my caveat about the price and how it handicaps a comprehensive sampling of what RN74 can do, it is possible to eat well for $75 a person (if you don't look at anybody else's table and aren't afflicted with Biblical-strength covetousness). Then again, confronted with this bounty, why would you ever want to try?
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