Alfred’s Steakhouse — Where Old-World Meets New World
Flames tableside at the landmark Alfred’s in San Francisco.
Walking into Alfred’s Steakhouse in San Francisco is like stepping back into another era.
To a time when dining rooms weren’t cloaked in reclaimed wood and Edison lights, but in crimson walls, sparkling chandeliers and oxblood-hued, tufted leather booths; when cell phones didn’t exist (as there actually isn’t cell service available there now); and when people actually dressed for dinner (save for the table of tourists decked out in shorts that night, not realizing summer in isn’t all that in San Francisco).
The venerable restaurant, which opened in 1928, still exudes classic bygone mores, and that’s a testament to Chef Daniel Patterson, whose Alta Group took it over in 2015. He spiffed it up, but wisely kept the cherished old-school atmosphere.
It’s a place you walk into thinking: They don’t make ’em like this anymore. And thank goodness it’s still around.
Located on a side street in the Financial District on the edge of Chinatown and North Beach.
The old-world dining room.
At least that’s what I felt when I visited recently as a guest of the restaurant. Even though I’m a native San Franciscan, I’m embarrassed to admit this was my first time at the restaurant.
As we slid into the roomy booth in the old worldly elegant dining room, my husband, who normally orders a glass of wine or a beer at dinner, declared out of the blue, “I’m having a martini!”
Because these surroundings just inspire a thirst for that.
The House Martini ($14), a blend of Gordon’s Gin, Noilly Extra Dry, and orange and lemon bitters, arrived unadorned but alongside its shaker that held extra. It was truly the perfect drink for the occasion.
A martini is definitely in order here.
The Mezzaluna.
I was set to order a Negroni when the server suggested instead the Mezzaluna ($14), and I’m so glad he did. It’s Alfred’s riff on a Negroni, made with mezcal and Nola Coffee Liqueur, of all things. I had my doubts, but the smokiness of the mezcal really was nicely accentuated by the bitter hit of the coffee. The cocktail still possessed that lovely bitter orange I love, too.
Bread comes to the table with butter — shaped into a rose. When’s the last time you saw that?
Note the butter design.
Tater tots on vintage plateware.
The tater tots ($18) look more like mini potato pancakes. Topped with creme fraiche and smoked trout roe, they are just the palate awakener made to go with a good cocktail. The oxtail-foie gras croquettes ($13) are deeply golden on the outside and super meaty within. They are stuffed with shredded oxtail meat with a molten center of foie, and pretty hard to resist.
Croquettes with an indulgent filling.
Celery Victor.
Ever had Celery Victor ($11)? Neither had I. This iconic dish, first created at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco, is almost like a Caesar salad, but with celery instead of romaine. Alfred’s includes anchovies for a proper jolt of briny saltiness.
The restaurant is known for its steaks, which are now sourced from San Francisco’s Bryan Flannery, which specializes in grass-fed, grain-finished beef that’s dry-aged. My husband opted for the namesake Alfred’s Cut ($75), a 28-ounce bone-in rib eye that the restaurant is famed for. It arrived medium-rare, just as he requested, seared until crusty outside and juicy within. Although the steak usually comes with your choice of one sauce, our server brought out all six for us to try: brown butter bernaise, whipped horseradish, three-peppercorn, giardiniera, lemon-caper butter, and oxtail bordelaise. My favorites were probably the bernaise, because how you can never go wrong with brown butter, and the oxtail bordelaise because the beefy sauce amplified the taste of the steak even more.
The Alfred’s Cut.
A selection of steak sauces.
A side of onion rings ($8) came with house-made spicy ketchup. And a side of maitake mushrooms ($12) were redolent of sherry and thyme.
A regal stack of onion rings.
Meaty maitakes.
In a nod to its Italian origins, Alfred’s recently started offering house-made pastas. Being a carb lover, I tried two of them in half-size portions ($13 each): buccatini loaded with Manila clams, garlic and parsley in a silky brothy sauce that clung to the toothsome noodles; and strozzapreti, hand-rolled pasta enveloped in a rich, thick, spicy tomato-vodka sauce.
House-made pasta with clams.
Vegetarian — with a spicy kick.
The restaurant offers five desserts. But the one you’re there for is the bananas Foster ($14). After all, in a setting like this, a little table-side flambe is just the throwback required.
The server rolled the cart next to our table and got the pyrotechnics started, first melting butter and sugar together for the caramel sauce before adding bananas and igniting the rum to spark the flames.
The warm bananas are garnished with brioche croutons and a big scoop of vanilla frozen custard.
Who can resist?
As we happily dug our spoons in, time seemed to stand still. If but for a moment. Besides the stellar food, that was a most welcome gift in and of itself.
More: A Visit to Daniel Patterson’s Coi
So glad old-school establishments like these are still around!
Meat Boy must have been in heaven! Great that these type of old world charm places are being preserved. I’m generally not a big steakhouse person since I don’t eat red meat often, but that martini sure is calling me!