This Michelin-starred S.F. restaurant's quirky format made it famous. Now it's just distracting
State Bird Provisions is always packed. The San Francisco restaurant is famous for its unconventional use of dim sum carts. (Santiago Mejia/S.F. Chronicle)
For one glorious summer, my grandma bought season passes to Universal Studios Hollywood for my cousins and me. I became close associates with the "E.T." - nice guy - and visited every attraction multiple times. But that much exposure to a good thing brings downsides: The surprises of the grounds tour no longer moved me, the "Back to the Future" ride became a high-tech arcade game. The illusion was shattered.
When it opened on New Year's Eve in 2011, State Bird set a new standard of creativity for Bay Area restaurants. Chefs Nicole Krasinski and Stuart Brioza introduced a novel dim sum-style presentation of small plates, emulsifying California's bounty with French, Italian, Japanese and Chinese flavors and technique. It earned State Bird nearly every national honor: Bon Appétit's Best New Restaurant in America, multiple James Beard awards, a Michelin star.
The staff, carrying trays or pushing carts, pirouette through the dining room, tempting tables with tiny salads, gleaming riblets and potato chips with aerated dip. Steamy siu mai? Not in this building.
This spirited exhibition was fun and endearing on my first visit. Now, it's my least favorite thing about the restaurant.
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Dueling reviews
San Francisco Chronicle critics MacKenzie Chung Fegan and Cesar Hernandez are dueling this week over one restaurant: State Bird Provisions. Don't miss Fegan's response on Friday - sign up for the Chronicle Food newsletter to make sure it lands in your inbox.
The dim sum schtick feels more customary than essential, more cute than efficient, more showy than delicious.
The dim sum plates can feel like a roller coaster on a day where the weather won't make up its mind; sunny and thrilling one moment, gray and dull the next. I gleefully gnawed on immaculate ribs, lacquered in a fiery, tart passion fruit sauce ($16), then puzzled over a bland wedge salad of yellowing golf ball-sized lettuces ($6). Avocados in Caesar dressing ($8), wearing a fuzzy fur coat of cheese curls, failed to delight like the cherries accompanied by a cloud of savory-sweet whipped cheese ($10). Egg tofu custard ($9)? Beautifully silky. But the burrata-capped garlic bread ($13) was dense enough to give your mandibles a workout.
This aspect of the experience may be the initial draw, but it does not actually represent the restaurant's best efforts. Instead, State Bird's spoils are on the printed dinner menu. If the roving snacks are a jam session, built on and stymied by improvisation, the standard menu dishes are albums: expressive, precise, fleshed-out thoughts.
The mushroom, tofu and bean donabe is one of the standout large-format dishes on the written menu at State Bird Provisions. (Santiago Mejia/S.F. Chronicle)
Toothsome, hand-cut noodles ($30) come doused in a peppery pumpkin seed salsa macha, with an egg on top that melts into pudding. A treasure chest of a donabe ($30) contained chewy tofu cubes, ready-to-burst beans and springy mushrooms in a slightly viscous, unctuous green broth; each sip felt like a massage for my soul. The restaurant's namesake specialty is always on the dinner menu: juicy fried quail (half for $24) lording over lemony, stewed onions. These entrees are in the major leagues. The small plates are playing varsity.
On one visit, I had my eye on roti with lentil hummus off the printed menu. But I abandoned that plot for a couple of dim sum bites with lower price tags. The next outing, I ordered the flaky flatbread, and I realized the gravity of my mistake.
Brown butter roti is served with morel mushrooms and lentil hummus at State Bird Provisions. The dish is located on the "pancakes and toast" section of the written menu. (Santiago Mejia/S.F. Chronicle)
I was constantly in this conundrum of choice, where the implied ephemeral state of the dim sum compelled me to act fast or miss out like a loser. When I rejected the servers' edible propositions, I saw a flicker of defeat on their faces, and felt as though I was letting them down.
Not to Penn & Teller the magic trick, but the appetizer scarcity is artificial, as you can order the dim sum items a la carte. In fact, there's a printed version of the menu, if you want to skip the tableside advertising and cherry-pick your snacks.
The dining room - a veritable vortex of hors d'oeuvres - is constantly animated, if a bit chaotic. The cart and tray circulation contributes to the commotion. The lanes between tables are already tight, and traffic is stalled by servers giving neighboring tables their best Don Draper sales pitch. If you visit the facilities, be prepared to play human Tetris to get back your seat. The staff is well-informed on the menu, but their ample responsibilities can impact service: the occasional forgotten drink, a tardy entree, tables crowded with empty plates.
While hordes of patrons no longer camp outside of State Bird, as they did for years, demand is still high. Prime time reservations evaporate swiftly. If you don't book weeks in advance, you're likely to only find slots past 8 p.m. Or you can try showing up early: The bar is reserved for walk-ins.
I don't question State Bird's aptitude for brilliant cooking. I'm interested in seeing State Bird evolve. While the dim sum-style presentation brought the restaurant glory, today it seems to be an albatross, an inescapable presence, an unskippable ad.
Some might argue the format is the soul of the restaurant. But remove it, and what could State Bird look like? An even better restaurant.
State Bird Provisions
Hours: 5:30- 10 p.m. Sunday-Thursday, 5:30-10:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday
Accessibility: All on one floor. Wheelchair accessible tables.
Noise level: Loud.
Meal for two, without drinks: $75-$150
What to order: Fried quail (half for $24), pork ribs ($16)
Meat-free options: Donabe ($30), roti ($32), tofu-egg custard ($9), noodles with salsa macha ($30), pancakes ($15)
Drinks: Beer and wine. Exceptional house-made non-alcoholic drinks like shiso-yuzu soda ($9) and Raspberry Julius ($10).
Best practices: Skip the dim sum-style plates. Instead, order a starter on the dinner menu like roti or pancakes and an entree like donabe or quail. Peanut milk ($4) is non-negotiable.
