Bocadillos

Two weeks or so ago, I had a very interesting night that started off with a great meal at Bocadillos, Gerald Hirigoyen's tapas bar. Considering it was a Friday night, it wasn't too crowded so we waited around at the bar for 10 minutes.


Manila mango with naval orange and crispy shittake

The salad was light and refreshing, with a generous amount of mango. The best part were the the crispy mushrooms, which were aromatic and addictive. They had similar texture to fried bacon; a wonderful addition to any salad.

Lamb loin chops with pear-apple chutney

The lamb was juicy, tender, and done perfectly medium-rare. It was a bit unevenly salted, but the majority of my piece had the right amount. The chutney was delicious and helped balance the saltier areas of my piece.


Baby back ribs with honey and sherry glaze

The ribs were tender and the glaze was delicious, almost resembling the sweet hoisin sauce inside Chinese barbequed pork buns. I liked these just as much as the smokier and spicier traditional BBQ ribs from Everett and Jones.

Service throughout the night was pretty bad; we had to flag down our server from afar, since she never came by, except to drop off our food. Though we were still hungry and wanted dessert (arm of a gypsy), we decided to pass since we didn't want to wait for a rare sighting of our server. Also, there was an obnoxious Marina whore yelling about her promiscuous escapades at the next table; it was quite vexing and repelling, to say the least.

As we left the restaurant, we got lured into the Church of Scientology across the street. All I really knew about Scientology was that it involved a volcano, aliens, and Tom Cruise; I just couldn't resist. Inside, the decor is tacky, busy, and clashing: very Vegas-casino-lobby, but more so the Golden Nugget than the Venetian. The area to the left consists of several wooden desks, giving off the vibe of a loan office more so than a church. The rest of the space consists of giant posters mounted on wooden panels describing the founder and the roots of Scientology. There is also a mysterious circular area bordered off by posters describing the philosophy and teachings; in front of this area is a podium and a tacky bust sculpture of the founder. Behind are huge speakers playing some cheesy beats, sort of like really bad easy listening with an overzealous singer. Anyway, as we roamed around, we were approached every five minutes by the creepy guy who stood in front and lured us in. He exuded the mannerisms of a used car salesman, and he was convinced we were as passionate as he. The guy was absolutely made for this job. The church is open late (it was around 10 when we went), I assume to attract and convert the nightlife crowd. Oh, they also have a cheese platter in the back, but it was unfortunately empty when we got there.

I urge you to check the place out, and of course have a meal at Bocadillos.

Bocadillos
710 Montgomery Street,
San Francisco, CA 94111