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Lunch
at Rumpus Jennie Yabroff |
 
Rumpus1 Tillman Place San Francisco, CA 415.421.2300
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I was waiting for my friend in San Francisco's Union Square when a woman with a very tight ponytail walked by. She was wearing the most enormous, complicated coat I've ever seen: Most of it was made of a ski pant-type material, but it also had bits of fur, tassels, a belt, and a long swooping hood. The woman inside the coat was tiny and ferocious-looking. She strode by importantly, carrying a large number of brightly laquered bags with soft rope handles. Imagine my surprise when, two hours later, I found myself at the table next to her for lunch at Rumpus. |
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It was 1:30 on a Thursday, and the restaurant was packed. We had a drink at the bar while waiting for a table, and watched as the man next to us sent back his Mahi Mahi sandwich on sundried tomato bread ($9.95), pronouncing it "abysmal." It looked to us as if he had already eaten half of it, but the bartender didn't mention this and neither did we. The man seemed mollified by the soup of the day ($3.95), but he had been so grumpy before we were afraid to ask him what it was. It appeared to involve tomatoes and curry, and smelled pretty good. |
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Once seated in the long noisy dining room, we immediately began eavesdropping on our tightly ponytailed neigbor (who had deposited the miraculous coat on the seat next to her) and her friend. They both wore tight black turtlenecks, and discussed a certain health spa Ponytail had been to recently. "They completely take care of you," she told her friend, and they decided to split the pear and gorgonzola salad ($4.95/$8.95) and the Rumpus burger ($7.95) with a double order of fries. | |
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Taking their cue (obviously these ladies knew how to lunch), we decided to share the Caesar ($4.95/$8.95) and the risotto with chanterelle and oyster mushrooms and marscapone cheese. Our waiter, who was friendly without being adorable, suggested we get the small salad, as the risotto was very rich. Since our absolute most-hated waiter trick is insisting on a larger portion when the small will do nicely, we were quite impressed with his consideration and honesty. |
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The salad arrived quickly, and our waiter had been right; it was plenty. The dressing was a bit lighter and more lemony than a traditional Caesar dressing, but the chef's light touch with the garlic made it a nice appetizer stimulant without overwhelming our palates. Next to us, Ponytail and Friend's salads looked good, but Friend was saddened by the amount of cheese on her salad (it is called the pear and gorgonzola salad for a reason) and gave most of it to Ponytail. Friendly Waiter came by several times to refill our ice teas but didn't take our salad plates till we were good and done; we liked him even more for this. | |
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The tables were filled with men and women in business suits and men and women with shopping bags; only a few of each group chose to answer cellular phones at the table. The main dining room was narrow and bright, with some rather odd paintings on the wall (one involving a goat and a flashlight; some symbolism neither of us understood) and fashionable lighting fixtures. The maître d' was quite casually dressed in a colorful cotton polo shirt, and came over to chat with Ponytail about dieticians, promising to call her with the number of a woman who was "just fabulous, very spiritual." By this time Ponytail and Friend were well into their Rumpus burger halves, which looked delicious, as did the fries. |
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Our waiter had split our risotto into two bowls for us, and it didn't look like much until we tried a bite and realized how rich it was. The mushrooms were tender and flavorful, with just the right amount of firmness, and the plump risotto was a perfect textural counterpoint. The aromatic brown sauce was redolent of wine and italian parsley, and the marscapone cheese gave the dish weight and complexity. We liked it lots. |
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Too full to order dessert, we reclined in our chairs and sipped our waters while Ponytail and Friend collected their bags and breezed out. "Gosh, sorry, I have so many packages and this coat is so big," Ponytail apologized, nearly sweeping our glasses off our table as she passed. "Not a problem," we murmured, and signaled for the check. |
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