Reviews on successive days, May 23rd and 24th, 2024. MacKenzie Chung Fegan's writing style is quite different from those of the Chron's restaurant reviewers over the past 40 years or so. Hers' is a much more bare-knuckled and in-your-face approach. She takes no prisoners, which is fun.

By MacKenzie Chung Fegan, Restaurant Critic May 24, 2024 - San Francisco Chronicle

It may not be S.F.’s oldest restaurant, but this 60-year-old institution is still a classic

“Of course, you don’t need to be crunched there. And I’ll bring you more bread and butter.”

The couple appears to be on a date, and their server is happy to oblige their request to switch tables. They’ve pointed to one with a view — a prized perch intended for a larger party — and although they haven’t asked for more bread, the server has clocked the empty plate.

Yesterday I wrote about Tadich Grill and why, despite its undisputed status as the doyen of San Francisco restaurants, I cannot recommend it. I can hear the sound of the counterarguments ricocheting around my inbox. It’s an institution, an icon of the city! Don’t legacy restaurants deserve some slack? Maybe, but even if I were grading on a curve, there is another old-school establishment that proves it’s possible to maintain high standards over the course of decades — and perhaps more importantly, not to take customers’ loyalty for granted. 

It’s Scoma’s.

It may not be S.F.’s oldest restaurant, but this 60-year-old institution is still a classic

And

By MacKenzie Chung Fegan, Restaurant Critic May 23, 2024 - San Francisco Chronicle

The problem with San Francisco’s oldest restaurant

“Tell that asshole to shut up and sit down.” 

The bar at Tadich Grill, the oldest of San Francisco’s old school restaurants, is right in the middle of the action. If privacy is what you seek as you’re making deals over oysters Rockefeller, that’s what the semi-enclosed booths along the left wall of the dining room are for. But the long, J-shaped lunch counter is where you sit if you want to shoot the breeze with your white-jacketed bartender as he mixes your Manhattan or trade tips about the market with the guy sitting next to you. It’s where I’m seated when I hear two staff members griping about a problem customer.

The asshole in question, besuited in plaid and inebriated, is propping up the end of the bar closest to the door, and he will neither shut up nor sit down. Pity the couple he’s buttonholed next to him. I can hear the words “Biden” and “terrorist” despite the fact that I’m a good 25 feet away. I’m initially taken aback by the server’s pointed language, but he has a point. This guy sucks.

About 20 minutes later, the family of three next to me pays their bill and gets up to leave. My server and I have been cordially chatting throughout the evening, so I’m not surprised when he leans over the counter to dish. I am surprised by what comes out of his mouth next. “The fat slob,” he says, showing me the less than 10% tip the customer left. “He comes in here, eats cioppino and tips like this? How can he sleep at night?”

I don’t think a 10% tip is acceptable. But, and I hope this goes without saying, I also don’t think that type of pejorative language is acceptable. Not on a playground, not in a locker room, and definitely not in a restaurant where patrons are spending their hard-earned money. It is clear to me that there’s a culture problem at Tadich Grill. If it’s common practice to speak coarsely and contemptuously about guests in front of and to other guests, what are they saying about us when we’re out of earshot?

The problem with San Francisco’s oldest restaurant

Greg