Before my last diner date, I decided to go for a jog and it thoroughly increased my appetite and enjoyment of the meal. So before today’s date, I decide to join my friend C at a morning workout class. She was coincidentally one of the friends who'd be accompanying me to today's diner, Art's Cafe.
After the workout (which was terrible in the moment, but had the same wonderful hunger-inducing effect as last week's jog), we called a car to San Francisco's Inner Sunset district.
The Uber dropped us off and we could spot our other diner date, A, standing in what appears to be a rather haphazard line expanding from the front door of the cafe. She was dressed in a brown knit sweater and black pants and, despite the chaotic appearans of the line, appeared to know what she was doing.
I, on the other hand, felt immediately stressed out. I've never felt comfortable trying to snag a table at a particularly popular or crowded restaurant, so I was very happy that A was doing it for us. She always seems to have a subdued sense of calm about these things.
After ten minutes or so, a few names were called by a hardworking host dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt, black track pants, and a black apron. Once the groups were seated, he wiped away names from the whiteboard that was placed on the side of the wall near the door. This opened up space for us to add our own names to the list, and A jots down her name plus a note that it's for a group of three. She then joined us off to the side to wait for our turn.
The estimated wait time was around 30-40 minutes.
We didn't dare leave from our spot just a couple of feet from the entrance. We were quick to learn that once your name was called, you only had a few minutes to show up before the host crossed you off and moved onto the next group on the list. This made the process move more efficiently and quickly, but it also meant we needed to be ready for our names to be called.
It was slightly chilly that morning but I felt a sense of joy at being back out in this neighborhood. I'd moved away from the Avenues (Sunset and Richmond districts) five years ago. It had felt too sleepy for me then, but now, I appreciate the community-feel of this side of the city. Families strolled by and trendy couples waited with us for a spot at Art’s Cafe.
Though it was certainly more suburb than my current downtown neighborhood, the trio of eccentrics across the street reminded us that we were still definitely in SF. They hyped each other up, one man with no shirt smoking a cigarette and making circles around his bike while chatting up another man in a wheelchair. The third man bopped around near the edge of the sidewalk looking both lost and completely at home where he stood.
After about twenty minutes, I caught sight of the host bringing a large ceramic mug to a few people who were also waiting to be called. This, of course, filled me with envy. As you all know, I love nothing more than a cup of black diner coffee, and I was suddenly desperate to get my hands on a mug of my own.
My anxiety played up a bit—I wondered if these other people knew the host personally—but the desire for coffee was too strong and I finally worked up the courage to chirp out, “could I get a cup of coffee as well?”
“Yes,” the host replied rapidly, “cream and sugar?”
“No, thanks.”
“Okay, just a moment.”
Then he skittered back inside and looked over a few things, rant out a few orders, then returned, handing me a cup filled with hot coffee (the perfect accessory for the chilly morning).
It was not long after that our group was called and we were ushered inside (to our delight as we'd all been hoping to get counter seats rather than a table in the parklet, though this would have sufficed as well).
Art’s Cafe
The interior of the diner was narrow with only counter seating available. This created an intimate and cozy atmosphere that I like in my diners, but I could also understand why they restaurant kept the parklet outside for additional seating.
We took our seats toward the end of the counter next to the door. There was a stack of local Sunset District newspapers to my right, which made me smile. I love that this has such a neighborhood feel. The counter surface was also unique, made from a collage of various postcards.
In front of us was the owner Hae Ryong Youn. He seemed to be working double time, rotating between smashing shaved potatoes onto the griddle surface, cracking eggs and flipping them with veggies, pressing down onto a metal scraper to clean off the surface. To his right, Sarah (his wife), soaked bread in egg and scooped up white rice onto shiny ceramic plates.
Above him, plastic bottles of oil that I'd come to expect near diner griddles are lined up, ready for action when they'll splash across the surface so that sandwiches can be pressed (with those cast-iron presses) and eggs can be flipped.
A waitress with what I believe was a Russian accent took our order and we each decided on something different. I made sure to order Cinnamon French toast for the table, because why the heck not?
A opted for one of the specialty hash brown bulgogi breakfast sandwiches, inspired by Korean flavors. The hash brown sandwiches consist of all the fixings inside a folded, thin, and crispy sheet of fried potatoes. The only critique for this delicious diner specialty is that the hash brown exteriors aren’t flattened on the griddle, so the cheese isn’t totally melted inside. C got a breakfast plate with avocado and toast, and I ordered a vegetarian breakfast sandwich on an English muffin.
I was pleased to see that hot sauces, ketchup, and salt and pepper were set up along the long counter, available for anyone who might need them. We were also provided with those classic jelly containers (strawberry and grape) for our sourdough toast.
Hot Takes and Hot Plates
We dug into each of our meals, the sizzling of the griddle in front of us adding to the ambiance as we ate. I cut into our shared French toast, and then pulled out my phone, opened my notes app, and started asking my diner date questions.
As they answered, I took another sip of my freshly refilled coffee in its glossy white ceramic mug. Frequent and free coffee refills are a must in my diner book.
Ans so the interview began.
First, I needed to know how both of my dates felt about diners in general.
The answer: Neither C nor A seek-out diners but enjoy them whenever they do end up at one.
Growing up, A’s dad would cook diner-style Saturday breakfasts. Recently, her sister’s partner had the brilliant idea to plan diner stops on a road trip up north on the East Coast. There were a few great ones with some memorable onion rings.
Go-To Diner Meal:
A - corn beef hash
C - corn beef hash or something with hamburger steak like a loco moco. Both C and I grew up in Hawaii, so there’s something heartwarming and nostalgic about a simple, hearty meal like a loco moco. If you don’t know this is a plate of rice, hamburger steak covered in gravy with a side of macaroni salad.
Coffee Preferences:
Neither C nor A are big coffee drinkers, but A will sometimes opt for a latte while C goes for a hot chocolate.
Booth or Counter Preference:
A - prefers a counter seat. She loves being close to the action, watching everything getting made.
C - if there are more than two people, she prefers a booth. “I like to watch everything at the counter, but I want to be able to look at the people I’m with,” she explains. Considering how we’re positioned at the counter, I’ve hardly gotten to catch up with her at all, so I see her point.
Potato Preference:
Both prefer hash browns over any other type of diner potato, but while A prefers hers to be flattened fried potatoes, C loves those classic hash brown patties.
Art’s Cafe Ratings
Overall, I’d rate Art’s Cafe an 8.1/10 (+2 promoter points)
Coffee: 7.5/10
Atmosphere: 8/10
Food: 8.5/10
Owners: 8.5/10
Promoter points -
Coffee while you wait to be seated: +2
Unique Menu Options: +1
Detractor points:
Wait time: -1
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