Maybeck’s opened in 2016 in the Marina as essentially a renamed Spaghetti Bros. restaurant, going for modern “red sauce” Italian food. I still remember their spumoni ice cream. The restaurant wasn’t exactly worth crossing neighborhoods for but it was solid, and has been closed in pandemic not just for a refresh but a complete rebirth and ownership change, despite keeping the name.
I was excited to see it moving hands to Lori Baker and Jeffrey (Jeff) Banker of the former Baker & Banker (one of my top 10 openings of 2010 and a place I still miss). They partnered with Maybeck’s chef-owner Aaron Toensing and gifted chef de cuisine Glen Schwartz (most recently at Copas but also killed it at The Douglas Room, which I also miss). Toensing worked with Bruce Hill restaurants from Fog City to the great Bix (where he met Baker and, in fact, introduced her to Jeff Banker!) Banker has cooked from LA to Venezuela, and for over two decades in SF.
Reopening June 30, 2022, Maybeck’s bones are the same but the feel is totally different. In soothing, cool blues and greens, banquettes, a pressed tin ceiling and separate sections of the dining room are centered by a dramatic horseshoe bar with copper bar top. On a Tuesday night, the space exuded warm neighborhood feels with numerous guests lingering well over two hours, a couple celebrating a birthday and a chill vibe all around. I can imagine weekends it could get that Marina party buzz, especially around the long bar, but on a Tuesday it was a welcome respite after a long day of deadlines.
A 90s soundtrack transported me to my KROQ-laced SoCal youth when Sublime, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Third Eye Blind ruled the airwaves. As we wove from White Town’s “Your Woman” to Semisonic’s “Closing Time,” I felt like a teen — but with far elevated food — from my OC years, dreaming of beef Wellington (only on Wednesdays), the tradition they’re thankfully keeping from the original Maybeck’s.
Maybeck’s is otherwise reborn, especially on the plate, with an upcoming wine shop in the restaurant and sommelier Carl Grubbs just starting the night we dined, who will eventually put his stamp on the wine selection. He comes from a storied list of SF restaurants, including Shanghai 1930, Orson and Incanto historically, to more recently Eight Tables at China Live, to opening Local Kitchen & Wine Merchant and then Les Clos (how I miss those perfect French-style omelets!) with Mark Bright, sommelier/co-owner of Saison. It will be fun to see how the list evolves. For now, we breezed through the likes of a sparkling Ostro Pinot Nero from Friuli, Italy, to a floral 2020 Domaine de Gramandiere muscat from France’s Loire Valley.
Only trying two cocktails from the mostly straightforward menu, the happy combo in Final Note of Saison Rum, Xila 7-Notas Mezcal Liqueur, Green Chartreuse, lime and a dehydrated pineapple garnish, somehow didn’t congeal or sing as well as it should have with that pleasing line up of ingredients. A more straightforward, but gently rolled (rather than shaken) tableside Palace Martini of olive oil-washed vodka, manzanilla sherry and an olive hit the spot more in terms of balance.
Lori Baker is a master of desserts and breads for the better part of my 21 years in SF. She’s worked everywhere from Bix to the long gone (but great) Fifth Floor, and most recently was dessert queen at Bluestem Brasserie. When her fluffy loaf of charred scallion monkey bread with nori butter arrived, my husband Dan (The Renaissance Man) and I dove into the nurturing comfort of her dreamy bread. Our meal had begun in earnest.
The bread was a happy sopping companion to a bright muhammara spread (red pepper, walnut and pomegranate Middle Eastern dip), doused in olive oil and a fava bean and nuts crumble. Crudité (romanesco, radishes, bell pepper, broccolini, etc…) on ice showcased California’s pitch-perfect produce. Between the veggies and bread, the dip was gone in moments.
Even I should be weary of crudo by now, but thousands of versions later, I cannot tire of fresh, silky, raw fish perfectly dressed in creative ingredients. Here, it’s hamachi (Japanese amberjack or yellowtail) dotted with preserved tangerine, shiso and sea beans over sticky rice doused in house ponzu sauce. Shaved mandarin zest makes the dish pop with Cali citrus aromatics.
A grilled Brokaw avocado filled with hijiki seaweed salad was a stellar example of a grilled avocado dish, the California avo’s already lush lushness extra silky in olive oil with a kick of chili spice, vegetal micro-cilantro and the crunch of puffed rice. A salad of mixed baby lettuces was tossed with shaved fennel, three-seed brittle, nectarines and shaved goat gouda in a Banyuls red wine vinaigrette, light and easy like summer.
Salt Spring mussels escabeche on olive oil-soaked grilled bread sang with fresh mussels, vivid in paprika and garlic. It tasted like Spain by way of California. Going rich and comforting, a small dish of Korean fried potatoes in gochujang, shavings of bulgogi beef and creamy cheese, was — despite how it sounds — a touch subtle. It’s decadent with restraint, feeling like the dish you could go broke for (meaning get full and fatty over), but surprisingly, do not.
Chef Schwartz brought out a dish they’ve been working on: larb-style beef tartare. It recalls Thailand, redolent of fish sauce, lemongrass and fried garlic. With house shrimp chips to scoop it up, it’s a winning variation on ubiquitous beef tartare.
Ricotta-black pepper gnudi are by turns hefty and fluffy, a dish we had to take home as we were getting full, but one we craved just as much the next morning. Laced with confit porcinis and sunflower seed crumble in spring onion soubise, it tasted like Italy in springtime, exemplifying the words “comfort food” with a gourmet hand.
You could easily make a meal of any and all of these small plates (many of them quite medium or generous), but both entrees I tried were worth considering. Liberty Duck sliced up over duck fat fried rice laced with peas, was partnered with baby bok choy and duck eggs, accented by chile crisp and preserved black bean-chili sauce. Some bites ran heavily salty but when it all came together, the melange of duck, egg, greens and chile tasted like an ideal breakfast.
Seared local black cod over corn and miso pudding with shishito peppers in roasted tomato dashi was the more delicate entree. The cod was a beautiful medium-rare, melding with the corn and miso as effortlessly as if they were born together.
Too full to even think meant trying three of Baker’s desserts and taking home what we could. Her Brooklyn Blackout Cake — a dark chocolate cake layered in chocolate pudding and chocolate stout egg cream — plays off her signature cakes from Baker & Banker to Bluestem.
I fell for her matcha almond petit four cake, its jammy strawberry center, accompanying roasted strawberries and lush black sesame ice cream holds the spirit of PB&J. I’ve often found black sesame ice cream quite peanut-buttery and Lori’s version is especially so, nutty and luxuriant, playing nicely with the strawberry and matcha.
I may have fallen even harder for the “Root Beer Float,” except that I am so not a fan of white chocolate excess sweetness. But there was salty-sweet balance in her salted white chocolate chunk root beer ice cream. Laced with cream soda and teeming in malted vanilla marshmallow fluff, it was black licorice mochi that provided the “wow” contrast of licorice warmth to the root beer’s sarsaparilla goodness. No doubt Baker, Banker, Toensing and Schwartz are showing their longtime “chops” in this welcome new neighborhood iteration of Maybeck’s. But they are showing them as true pros do: without pomp, with comfort and ease coming through in the space and on the plate. Consider this a standout new neighborhood restaurant.
// 3213 Scott Street, www.maybecks.com
