Iyow - in your own words

I’ve been meaning to go to Nopa for months. My husband and I saw it one day when we were driving though his old neighborhood. “That used to be my laundromat!” he exclaimed.

In fact, this is just one of numerous changes I’ve witnessed since we started dating eight years ago. As this “North of the Panhandle Area” continues to gentrify, it is now harder to find parking here than SF’s popular Castro district and easier to find foodie gems.

But I digress. I feel like I’ve read about Nopa in every food magazine – Gourmet, Bon Appétit, Food & Wine. The last straw was seeing it described as one of San Francisco’s “cool” restaurants in O Magazine (a gift from my mom, OK?). Wondering how much longer it would be cool, now was the time to make it happen. I was determined to get reservations on Saturday night.

Now, that might not sound difficult, but this is San Francisco. In this food-obsessed town, I knew I would have my work cut out for me. Yes, I could go during the week. But I like going out on weekends too… just like people from out of town. So, I braced myself. I’d read on Chowhound that this could be an ordeal. As I cleaned my closet, I continued to press redial. I felt like I was trying to win tickets to a sold-out concert. I told myself that I would only do it for 15 minutes. Then, five more minutes. Out of nowhere, the moment of truth – a woman’s voice on the other end of the line! I was given the option of 6:45 or 9 p.m. – I choose the later. Then I proceeded to dance around the house like I had found Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket.

From the start, we decided that we would take a taxi. Again, luck was on our side. Somehow, we quickly found a cab on the Saturday night before Halloween in the Inner Richmond. As we passed Borat and other Halloween revelers, I was anxious to reach our destination. We arrived at 9 p.m. on the dot. The space was beautiful with high ceilings. I was hoping to sit upstairs and take in the view. After a short five-minute wait, we were whisked to the second floor. I had a fabulous view of the restaurant, the great neighborhood mural – and could even look down on the kitchen. The only drawback was the bleach smell of the dishwasher.

To begin the evening, I ordered the Wash Board cocktail per the waiter’s recommendation. It was a delicious concoction of vodka and basil that was a vibrant bright green. Easy drinkin’. Then, after perusing the menu and getting more input from our waiter, we decided to start with the little gem salad with creamy dressing and the flatbread with bacon, gruyère and grilled radicchio. And, since I wanted dessert (and potatoes!), we decided to share the pork chop entrée and side of super creamy mashed potatoes.

I didn’t know what to expect. This restaurant had been hyped so much. But, surprisingly, it lived up to the hype. I was oohing and ahhing over every bite. I think the surprise of the evening was the cabbage that accompanied the pork. I was expecting something rather bland – does anyone love cabbage? – but I LOVED this cabbage. Life is full of surprises.

The check arrived clutched in a wooden clothespin – a nod to the restaurant’s previous life. As the neighborhood continues to change, I can’t help but admire Nopa’s soul. Instead of erasing the past, it honors it by making it part of the restaurant – from the mural to the cocktails to the final check.

So if you want to dine at the most soulful restaurant in San Francisco – call Nopa at 2 p.m. the day you want reservations. Or stop by during the week, and eat at the bar. You may find me there trying the grass-fed hamburger with fries and harissa aioli.