City That Never Sleeps

Globe dishes out superior, lusty fare until the late-for-S.F. hour of 1 a.m.

Entirely swell, however, is the supper Anita, Peter, Stewart, and I enjoy at Globe after catching City That Never Sleeps at Noir City. I'm surprised that none of them has ever been here before; they're surprised, I can tell, at the delicious food that issues, at somewhat irregular intervals, from the kitchen. We start with a superb pizza, the puffy, thin crust topped with melty mozzarella, excellent soppressata, and the benediction of two sunny side up eggs with still-soft yolks. (I devour three pieces, helplessly, despite knowing that a lot more food is coming.) When the tuna tartare turns out to be finished for the night, we order outstanding salads, one made of large chunks of radicchio with sliced Bosc pears, lightly candied pecans, and a maple-and-balsamic vinaigrette, the other, somewhat daintier, sparkling with shaved fennel and black radishes with ruby grapefruit. These are joined by a baker's dozen of freshly shucked Hog Island Sweetwater oysters, so briny and sweet that I find the accompanying mignonette unnecessary.

The mains really shine. These foodies are happy -- with their pale-green house-made nettle linguine and garlic topped with salty, fishy botarga di tonno (dried tuna fish roe); with a lovely piece of rosy wild salmon nestled under a lively, freshly chopped salsa verde on top of house-made boccacino (fat, spaghettilike tube pasta) in aglio e olio, plus strands of bright green rapini; and with an exciting stew of tender pieces of monkfish, clams, and mussels still in the shell, in a fiery tomato broth, all three dishes appetizingly served in different ceramic bowls from which waft wonderful aromas. But the star is my thick Niman Ranch pork "porterhouse," a big grilled chop still pink and juicy. It's amazingly flavorful, and sided with baby turnips and mustard greens faintly sweet from caramelized onions. This is what pig should taste like, and rarely does.

Global Warming: The décor is generic, yet 
the food is anything but.
James Sanders
Global Warming: The décor is generic, yet the food is anything but.

Location Info



290 Pacific
San Francisco, CA 94111

Category: Restaurant > California

Region: Embarcadero


Pork sausage in iron skillet $8

Grilled lamb riblettes $11

Pizza with soppressata and eggs $14

Baker's dozen oysters $23

Nettles linguine $16

Monkfish with clams and mussels in broth $23

Pork "porterhouse" $23


Open Monday through Friday for lunch from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m., and for dinner from 6 p.m. to 1 a.m.; open Saturday for dinner from 6 p.m. to 1 a.m., Sunday until 11:30 p.m.

Reservations accepted

Bathrooms not wheelchair accessible

Parking: difficult

Muni: 10, 12

Noise level: high

290 Pacific (at Battery)

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No one is as thrilled with dessert: a resilient lemon upside-down cake that's startlingly sour, an undercooked apple tart redeemed somewhat by house-made thyme ice cream, and the best of the lot, a creamy crème brûlée darkened (if not noticeably flavored) with Guinness. But we exit glowing from the good food, which would be delightful at any hour but is especially welcome after midnight.

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