Charles Phan’s fresh sandwich shop, Chuck’s Takeaway, is a rare gastronomic treat in the city
Slanted Door was a cherished part of my initial years in San Francisco. I moved here in 2001 and Charles Phan’s modern Vietnamese restaurant opened 1995. Living near Precita Park on the southeast side of the Mission (pretty sketchy near the freeway 20 years ago), I’d often walk to Valencia Street for lunch to Slanted Door’s lofty dining room — the space now houses ChezChez — filling up on catfish claypot and shaking beef. These dishes transported me to the then-recent month I spent across Vietnam in 1999, from Hanoi to Saigon, Da Nang to the lush, rice paddy-lined countryside. From rounds of bánh mì to pho, people to scenery, Vietnam made a huge impact on me.
While I celebrated Slanted Door’s major move to the Ferry Building in 2004, along with its growing cocktail program under Erik Adkins, it lost the neighborhood intimacy of the original space, giving way to long lines of tourists at the Ferry Building. Granted, I dined much less at Slanted Door post-move, but I regularly hit up Phan’s restaurants and bars the past two decades, including my beloved Heaven’s Dog, Wo Hing General Store, more casual Out the Door, short-lived The Coachman and whiskey/New Orleans haven, Hard Water, which I included on numerous best bar lists — thankfully reopening, along with Slanted Door SF, this Spring and Fall.
But it’s not Phan’s restaurants/bars that left the biggest mark, although Slanted Door Group has been one of the more rewarding restaurant groups born out of SF. It’s his contribution to modern Vietnamese food, progressing love for and understanding of Vietnamese cuisine, that has made him such an important chef.
His influence is confirmed by cookbooks and James Beard awards (including Best Chef in America 2004; I conducted an interview with him in 2014 as Slanted Door won Outstanding Restaurant in the nation during my tenure as Zagat editor, but Zagat took down all historic articles, including over 1000 I wrote, or I’d share Charles’ thoughts after that major win).
Since the 1990s, Phan spurred a movement in upscale-but-authentic Vietnamese, inspiring restaurants like SF’s excellent Bong Su, opened (and sadly closed) years ago by founders of Tamarine in Palo Alto (going strong since 2002). They showcased Vietnamese cuisine beyond amazing bánh mì sandwiches, vermicelli noodle bowls or pho. But not with the slick, showy French-Vietnamese angle of hot spots I hit up as a young food lover, like Indochine in NYC or Don Johnson and Cheech Marin’s dramatic Ana Mandara.
At Slanted Door, Phan did for Vietnamese cuisine what other trailblazers have done for misunderstood cuisines in the Western world that often get relegated to “mom and pop shops” (which we love, adore and need, but every cuisine also needs chefs to play with its range in all levels of dining). He brought global respect to a cuisine that can be as elegant and complex as any.
So it’s interesting that his first new opening in awhile is Chuck’s Takeaway, a sandwich shop which opened February 7th in the Mission. No, it’s not a bánh mì shop, although you will see that influence on the signature CP №3 sandwich, as well as house baguettes, milk bread and sourdough boules, perfected in proper French-Vietnamese style, made with organic, non-GMO grains.
A chef of this caliber opening a sandwich shop could be a reflection of pandemic times, of shifting to simplicity. But exploring the 10,000-square-foot building housing Chuck’s — which has long been the commissary kitchen for his restaurants — there’s nothing simple about this operation. On a recent summer-y February day, Phan toured me from the airy sandwich counter, lined with paintings of dogs, through an impressive round of kitchens and food storage rooms, even a liquor library, on to his brother’s shop next-door. Charles employs a big team, each busy prepping elements of his restaurants. Key family members still live around the shop.
This is the Phan I remember from the beginning: deeply rooted in the Mission and SF, with staff that have been with him for years. In fact, two different employees recognized me from Heaven’s Dog and past Phan restaurants/bars, saying hello. This kind of longevity speaks volumes of a chef and company that has evolved and pivoted through nearly three decades of change.
Phan has worked for years to perfect his Vietnam-worthy rolls, showcasing range in the tight list of six sandwiches, which he created with Korean-born chef Dong Choi, who has cooked with Phan for years, including as chef de cuisine at Slanted Door San Ramon. Choi also cooked with (other) legendary chefs — Michael Mina and Daniel Patterson — and in Japan and Singapore.
C.P.’s №3 (sandwiches are $16 each, with every element housemade) feels signature already, one of the best on the menu and most banh mi-esque. It’s a Vietnamese baguette layered in house pâté, pork cha, chicken liver pâté, shallot mayo, herbs, cucumber, jalapeños. It’s meaty, clean, rich yet not heavy, and gratifying (yes, there’s a veggie version with mushroom pâté).
“Tuna by design” is olive oil-soaked tuna on a sourdough boule. The tuna is so fresh and bright, texture-wise it’s almost like eating plump crab legs, laced with pickled shallots and wild arugula. I hear rumors of a sardine sandwich to come. Sardine banh mi being my favorite of all banh mi sandos besides maybe catfish, I sure hope it’s true. But I wouldn’t want to lose that tuna.
Jo Jo’s bollito tributes Joseph Manzare (of former SF industry favorite, Globe) on a round, toasted bun. Packed with braised beef belly and salsa verde, it’s just the right hit of spicy, although the offal-like chew of some bits may not appeal to all.
But my #1 has to be Chuck’s egg salad on fluffy house milk bread. The fabulously creamy sandwich is eggs, mustard-y mayo, celery, chives, recalling Japanese tamago sandwiches but in egg salad form. Choi smartly dusts the the crust-less sandwiches with chives to keep them from overwhelming the filling. It’s already one of the best egg salad sandwiches in town.
Phan likes his pickles on the side, so you’ll get pickled seasonal vegetables accompanying most sandos. You can add into a sandwich or it’s a palate cleanser between bites. Housemade fruit sodas (think Italian soda but with fresh purees, like a lovely passionfruit soda), Vietnamese iced or hot coffee, espresso drinks and coffee from SF great Saint Frank round out the menu, alongside a few cookies.
Shelves to the right as you enter the shop offer cookbooks, local ceramics, select Vietnamese (and beyond) groceries, including Phan’s new condiments line (think crunchy chile oil, hoisin, house Sriracha): Wo Hing General Store, named after a small grocery his father and owned in Vietnam — and his aforementioned restaurant.
Between friendly staff, brother Phan running his shop next door, family living in surrounding blocks and Phan’s Mission High School days a few blocks away, Chuck’s feels like a familial affair. The focused menu is rustic and simple as it is gourmet and thoughtful. It sparks heartwarming remembrance of happy memories at Phan restaurants over the years, and renewed gratefulness that Hard Water and Slanted Door Ferry Building are coming back. This is the chef and team that brought greater understanding of and love for Vietnamese cuisine, and beyond. Phan is also quintessential SF. Cheers, Chuck.
// 3332 18th Street, www.chuckstakeaway.com
