The weird flaws in the food, too, were easy enough to contain. One dish matched an orange-scented lobster salad with a creamy-centered lobe of sweetbreads resting on a bed of chickpea purée and brushed with a mustard foam ($18). Eaten separately, each component was marvelous; together, the clash of flavors jarred. Seared scallops ($15) took beautifully to the subtle earth of maitake mushrooms and the pepper of nasturtium leaves; I just had to lift each bite away from the bitter, overly floral veal stock in which jasmine tea had been oversteeped.

To me, though, screw-ups like these were worth it for the highs Sons and Daughters produced, such as the mint ice cream accompanying a mousselike chocolate torte ($7), which tasted as if I were chewing on fresh spearmint leaves; or for the squab two ways ($22), served with baby carrots, squab jus, and a celadon purée of fresh peas and tarragon. The squab leg confit came out papery-skinned and succulent — I picked up the spindly, clawed limb and gnawed it when no one seemed to be looking — and the pigeon breast, cooked sous-vide, had the texture of a roasted portobello.

Little Miss Muffet would get a puff of foam on this version of curds and whey.
Lara Hata
Little Miss Muffet would get a puff of foam on this version of curds and whey.

Location Info


Sons and Daughters

708 Bush St.
San Francisco, CA 94108

Category: Restaurant > California

Region: Union Square/ Financial District


Sons and Daughters
708 Bush (at Powell), 391-8311, Breakfast-lunch 8 a.m.-2 p.m. Wed.-Sun. ; dinner 6-10 p.m. Wed. and Sun., 6-11 p.m. Thu.-Sat. Closed Mon.-Tue. Muni: 1, 31, Powell cable cars. Noise level: quiet.

Related Stories

More About

I've been seeing more and more West Coast chefs like Moriarty and McNamara use the avant-garde like a metaphor rather than a manifesto. Their aim doesn't seem to be shock — some high-minded desire to reinvent the way we experience dining — but to avoid clichés, to keep casting about for new ways to present the same local, seasonal ingredients we all hold so dear. There are other ways to celebrate summer than an heirloom tomato salad. Too many chefs don't bother to try.

« Previous Page
My Voice Nation Help
©2014 SF Weekly, LP, All rights reserved.