Bohemian San Francisco — When the Gringo Came/recipe, Early Italian Impression

When the Gringo Came To its pioneer days much of San Francisco's Bohemian spirit is due.

When the cry of "Gold" rang around the world adventurous wanderers of all lands answered the call, and during the year following Marshall's discovery two thousand ships sailed into San Francisco Bay, many to be abandoned on the beach by the gold-mad throng, and it was in some of these deserted sailing vessels that San Francisco's restaurant life had its inception.

With the immediately succeeding years the horde of gold hunters was augmented by those who brought necessities and luxuries to exchange for the yellow metal given up by the streams flowing from the Mother Lode.

With them also came cooks to prepare delectable dishes for those who had passed the flap-jack stage, and desired the good things of life to repay them for the hardships, privations and dearth of woman's companionship.

As the male human was largely dominant in numbers it was but natural that they should gather together for companionship, and here began the Bohemian spirit that has marked the city for its own to the present day.

These men were all individualists, and their individualism has been transmitted to their offspring together with independence of action.

Hence comes the Bohemianism born of individuality and independence.

It was only natural that the early San Franciscans should foregather where good cheer was to be found, and the old El Dorado House, at Portsmouth Square, was really what may be called the first Bohemian restaurant of the city.

So well was this place patronized and so exorbitant the prices charged that twenty-five thousand dollars a month was not considered an impossible rental.

Next in importance was the most fashionable restaurant of early days, the Iron House.

It was built of heavy sheet iron that had been brought around the Horn in a sailing vessel, and catered well, becoming for several years the most famed restaurant of the city.

Here, in Montgomery street, between Jackson and Pacific, was the rendezvous of pioneers, and here the Society of California Pioneers had its inception, receiving impressions felt to the present day in San Francisco and California history.

Here, also, was first served Chicken in the Shell, the dish from which so many later restaurants gained fame.

The recipe for this as prepared by the Iron House is still extant, and we are indebted to a lady, who was a little girl when that restaurant was waning, whose mother secured the recipe.

It was prepared as follows: Chicken in a Shell Into a kettle containing a quart of water put a young chicken, one sliced onion, a bay leaf, two cloves, a blade of mace and six pepper-corns.

Simmer in the covered kettle for one hour and set aside to cool.

When cool remove the meat from the bones, rejecting the skin.

Cut the meat into small dice.

Mix in a saucepan, over a fire without browning, a tablespoonful of butter, a tablespoonful of flour, then add half a pint of cream.

Stir this constantly until it boils, then add a truffle, two dozen mushrooms chopped fine, a dash of white pepper and then the dice of chicken.

Let the whole stand in a bain marie, or chafing dish, until quite hot.

Add the yolks of two eggs and let cook two minutes.

Stir in half a glass of sherry and serve in cockle shells.

Early Italian Impression Almost coincident with the opening of the Iron House an Italian named Bazzuro took possession of one of the stranded sailing vessels encumbering the Bay, and anchored it out in the water at the point where Davis and Pacific streets now intersect.

He opened a restaurant which immediately attracted attention and gained good reputation for its service and its cooking.

Later, when the land was filled in, Bazzuro built a house at almost the same spot and opened his restaurant there, continuing it up to the time of the great fire in 1906. After the fire one of the earliest restaurants to be established in that part of the city was Bazzuro's, at the same corner, and it is still run by the family, who took charge after the death of the original proprietor.

Here one can get the finest Italian peasant meal in the city, and many of the Italian merchants and bankers still go there for their luncheons every day, preferring it to the more pretentious establishments.

The French peasant style came a little later, beginning in a little dining room opened in Washington street, just above Kearny, by a French woman whose name was a carefully guarded secret.

She was known far and wide as "Ma Tanta" (My Aunt).

Her cooking was considered the best of all in the city, and her patrons sat at a long common table, neat and clean to the last degree.

Peasant style of serving was followed.

First appeared Ma Tanta with a great bowl of salad which she passed around, each patron helping himself.

This was followed by an immense tureen of soup, held aloft in the hands of Ma Tanta, and again each was his own waiter.

Fish, entree, roast, and dessert, were served in the same manner, and with the black coffee Ma Tanta changed from servitor to hostess and sat with her guests and discussed the topics of the day on equal terms.

In California street, just below Dupont, the California House boasted a great chef in the person of John Somali, who in later years opened the Maison Riche, a famous restaurant that went out of existence in the fire of 1906. Gourmets soon discovered that the California House offered something unusual and it became a famed resort.

Somali's specialties were roast turkey, chateaubriand steak and coffee frappe.

It is said of his turkeys that their flavor was of such excellence that one of the gourmands of that day, Michael Reece, would always order two when he gave a dinner--one for his guests and one for himself.

It is also said that our well-beloved Bohemian, Rafael Weill, still holds memories of the old California House, of which he was an habitue, and from whose excellent chef he learned to appreciate the art and science of cooking as evidenced by the breakfasts and dinners with which he regales his guests at the present day.

But many of the hardy pioneers were of English and American stock and preferred the plainer foods of their old homes to the highly seasoned dishes of the Latin chefs, and to cater to this growing demand the Nevada was opened in Pine street between Montgomery and Kearny.

This place became noted for its roast beef and also for its corned beef and cabbage, which was said to be of most excellent flavor.

Most famous of all the old oyster houses was Mannings, at the corner of Pine and Webb streets.

He specialized in oysters and many of his dishes have survived to the present day.

It is said that the style now called "Oysters Kirkpatrick," is but a variant of Manning's "Oyster Salt Roast."

At the corner of California and Sansome streets, where now stands the Bank of California, was the Tehama House, one of the most famous of the city's early hostelries, whose restaurant was famed for its excellence.

The Tehama House was the rendezvous of army and navy officers and high state officials.

Lieutenant John Derby, of the United States Army, one of the most widely known western authors of that day, made it his headquarters.

Derby wrote under the names of "John Phoenix," and "Squibob."

Perini's, in Post street between Grant avenue and Stockton, specialized in pastes and veal risotto, and was much patronized by uptown men.

The original Marchand began business in a little room in Dupont street, between Jackson and Washington, which district at that time had not been given over to the Chinese, and he cooked over a charcoal brazier, in his window, in view of passing people who were attracted by the novelty and retained by the good cooking.

With the extension of his fame he found his room too small and he rented a cottage at Bush and Dupont street, but his business grew so rapidly that he was compelled to move to more commodious quarters at Post and Dupont and later to a much larger place at Geary and Stockton, where he enjoyed good patronage until the fire destroyed his place.

There is now a restaurant in Geary street near Mason which has on its windows in very small letters "Michael, formerly of," and then in bold lettering, "Marchands."

But Michael has neither the art nor the viands that made Marchands famous, and he is content to say that his most famous dish is tripe--just plain, plebeian tripe.

Christian Good, at Washington and Kearny, Big John, at Merchant street between Montgomery and Sansome, Marshall's Chop House, in the old Center Market, and Johnson's Oyster House, in a basement at Clay and Leidesdorff streets, were all noted places and much patronized, the latter laying the foundation of one of San Francisco's "First Families."

Martin's was much patronized by the Old Comstock crowd, and this was the favorite dining place of the late William C. Ralston.

One of the most famous restaurants of the early '70s was the Mint, in Commercial street, between Montgomery and Kearny, where the present restaurant of the same name is located.

It was noted for its Southern cooking and was the favorite resort of W. W.

Foote and other prominent Southerners.

The kitchen was presided over by old Billy Jackson, an old-time Southern darkey, who made a specialty of fried chicken, cream gravy, and corn fritters.