Presidio Social Club promises “All the comforts of a club without the dues.” In this restaurant’s case, those comforts include tables, chairs, a bar, and a porch, to which you are granted entry by purchasing drinks or a meal here. There is no open bar, steam room, or snack stand doling out Firecrackers and Fudgsicles. Unfortunately.
There is, however, a solid menu that mixes 1950s dishes: a meatloaf with liver and onions, with food from this decade: tuna poke, kale, and farro. The crowd matches the juxtaposition too - you’ll find lots of actual grown ups wining and dining, mixed in with a younger set of humans freely imbibing the strong cocktails, oysters, and clinically insane ribeye for two. It’s like the Tony Bennett - Lady Gaga CD: it sounds horribly strange and uncomfortable, but somehow it works.
Housed in an old military barracks in the Presidio, the restaurant is huge, with pretty lights, a nice long bar, and an open, airy feel. Brunch is generally an insane clusterf*ck and since it’s sort of in the middle of nowhere, you can’t just roll to the next spot, which means you need to be very committed and down to inhale a few Bloodys while you wait. Dinner is the better of the meals here anyways, and you can almost always get a reservation without a problem. We dig it. Even if there aren’t any Fudgsicles.
The serving plates are straight out of your Grandmother’s house, so a pile of sesame-tinged tuna with gourmet potato chips looks out of place. But the crispy chips contrast perfectly with the raw poke and the flavors are a killer complement. Grandma wants you to order this.
Crisp, refreshing, light, and delicious. Great dressing.
Described to us as “just like kettle corn,” these were in fact nothing like kettle corn. They were deep fried, slightly sweet, and just OK.
Perhaps two... mountain lions. This thing is gargantuan and comes with what we’ve deemed Fry Mountain. The steak is excellent, and the truffle fries are strong as well. Oh, and it comes with a kale salad that is entirely unmentioned on the menu. Mountain lions need veggies too.
This was sold to us hard, and it was not good. When she said “Baked Alaska…” we were pumped. Blow torches are always a welcome addition, but then it was fish and it was bland and overcooked.
Turns out, sugo is Italian for large pieces of tender pork. Ok Google Translate says “gravy”. Whatever. The pasta comes with a gravy heavy on the meat over the sauce ratio, and it is very good. Surprise win of the night.