San Francisco Chronicle

Rubicon's allure remains after decadelong service
New chef brings unusual combos to the table

by Michael Bauer, Chronicle Restaurant Critic

August 20, 2004

Do you judge a dining experience solely on the consistency of the food? How much does a dish that haunts the memory count in the final assessment? If the pacing of the meal is good and the staff is friendly, does it really matter whether the waiter serves from the wrong side or sometimes forgets to remove the salt and pepper shakers before dessert?

These are the questions critics -- and diners -- tackle every time they go out, but the answers were more challenging when I visited Rubicon. The restaurant has plenty to recommend it, including a wine list by superstar sommelier Larry Stone, but some distracting elements left me wondering whether this decade-old restaurant is suffering from a little middle age spread.

I've been to the restaurant many times under several chefs, so my Update visit is like another in a series of snapshots. This time it's of a new chef, Stuart Brioza, who took over the kitchen a couple of months ago. Brioza was chosen one of Food & Wine magazine's best new chefs in America in 2003 when he was cooking at Tapawingo in northern Michigan, and he brings a different sensibility to Rubicon's food.

If I dined on only the clear chicken broth ($12) and halibut ($30), I'd be in heaven; both dishes are among the best I've had all year. For the soup, Brioza layers three ravioli-like dumplings with shards of chicken in a shallow soup bowl. The waiter pours in the smoky, caramel-colored liquid and suggests eating each dumpling in one bite to get the full benefit of the lemon-sage cream within. It's an amazing blend -- the deeply flavored broth could become monotonous, but the dumplings wake up the palate like an invigorating massage.

The secret of the Alaskan halibut is the skewer of cinnamon driven through the middle of the fillet to allow the flavor to gently permeate the white, moist flesh. This ingredient is also key to the rich tapestry the chef weaves with a disparate assortment of ingredients, including cherries, caramelized onions and bits of beefy oxtail. The floury quality of toasted oats underneath the fish at first made me think of a cow grazing in a pasture, but the image was fleeting. In the end I became a convert to this chewy
addition; it clears the palate and adds a substantial textural contrast.

I also loved the blend of seared scallops ($17), smartly steamed in sake along with mussels, shiso and perfect circles of cool melon, adding a subtle sweet note.

One of the best things about importing a chef from a different area is that he or she brings a new perspective to what can become an incestuous dining scene. For example, Brioza combines crispy skate wing ($37) with turnips, soybeans, cashews and Gewurztraminer-ginger butter, an intriguing combination I haven't seen on any other menu. His preparation of duck ($31) is dressed up with corn and foie gras, juxtaposed with jamlike figs and earthy hen of the woods mushrooms.

However, a few dishes seem to lose focus. In lamb carpaccio ($15), the raw meat is nothing more than a blank canvas for the smorgasbord of ingredients. Champagne grapes, pickled red onions, fava beans, tiny crispy bread cubes and manchego cheese add interesting bursts of flavor to the lamb, but in the end seem to muddy its essence.

The rack of lamb ($37) also left me questioning the kitchen. The sweet, aromatic spices that coated the outside of the chops helped to focus attention on the meat, and the quenelle of pureed roasted eggplant alongside it reinforced the Middle Eastern theme, while the triangle of crispy polenta and slices of artichokes acted like neutral foils. But the lamb tongue on one side -- the real reason I ordered the dish -- was as unappealing as an unhappy skunk, and had the flavor of something that had sat in the refrigerator too long.

Desserts included some innovative creations. I loved the idea of combining roasted plums, walnuts and Pecorino Romano cheese with a scoop of olive oil ice cream ($9), and it seemed like the perfect way to finish off a bottle of fruity red wine. Unfortunately, the ice cream was so sweet it obliterated every other flavor. In another dessert, the fig ice cream also dulled the otherwise delicious brown sugar bourbon cake ($9). This type of misstep is minor but kept the desserts from reaching their full potential.

The waiters, too, were a little less professional than I remember from previous visits, as if some of their techniques needed sharpening. However, they still orchestrate the meal nicely, explaining dishes and making it clear that they know and understand the menu.

With its exposed earthquake beams, handsome brick walls and luxurious table tops, Rubicon was one of the restaurants that defined the high-flying 1990s. Since Traci Des Jardins launched her career there, the place has maintained its status under several other chefs. Now it's Brioza's turn to make the restaurant relevant in what has turned out to be a much more somber decade.

In the end, the answers to my questions about Rubicon seem to fall into place. Although not everything was perfect, the restaurant holds up to that morning-after scrutiny.

RUBICON 558 Sacramento St. (at Sansome), San Francisco
(415) 434-4100

Open for lunch 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m. Wednesday, dinner 5:30-10:30 p.m.
Monday-Saturday. Full bar. Reservations and credit cards accepted. Valet $10.

OVERALL: three stars

FOOD: three stars

SERVICE: two and a half stars

ATMOSPHERE: three stars

PRICES: $$$$

NOISE RATING: three bells


RATINGS KEY

FOUR STARS: Extraordinary

THREE STARS: Excellent

TWO STARS: Good

ONE STAR: Fair

$ Inexpensive: entrees $10 and under

$$ Moderate: $11-$17

$$$ Expensive: $18-$24

$$$$ Very Expensive: more than $25

Prices are based on main courses. When entrees fall between these categories, the prices of appetizers help determine the dollar ratings.

ONE BELL: Pleasantly quiet (under 65 decibels)

TWO BELLS: Can talk easily (65-70)

THREE BELLS: Talking normally gets difficult (70-75)

FOUR BELLS: Can only talk in raised voices (75-80)

BOMB: Too noisy for normal conversation (80+)

Chronicle critics make every attempt to remain anonymous. All meals are paid for by the Chronicle. Star ratings are based on a minimum of three visits. Ratings are updated continually based on a least one revisit.

Back to Top of Page