I like any Spanish word ending in -ita. Chiquita, frutita, amorcita, mamacita…I could go on. Adding -ita to the end of a word basically makes it a smaller version of itself. Fruta = fruit. Frutita = little fruit. Make sense? The word frutita will always evoke flashbacks as I can vividly hear my Spanish Madre saying, “Candela, come más frutita.” It was usually followed by laughter since we both knew she was just trying to fatten me up (which she really didn’t need to do at that point in my life). Saying I wasn’t hungry was often times followed by Nani grabbing her gut shaking her extra “pesa” at me. Nani pronounced “pesa” (meaning weight) as [pe-sha]. It’s taught to be pronounced [pay-sah]. So now do I not only think of Nani every time I heard a word ending in -ita/ito but I always hear pesa pronounced with a Cádiz southern drawl.
Some things just stay with you. When I heard Mamacita was opening a sister restaurant in Cole Valley called Padrecito it immediately shot to the top of my eating docket. I knew this would be an enjoyable meal with the name alone evoking such memories. Pair that with dinner with two of my favorite eating partners, Max and Jeremy, it was sure to be a great evening.
It was a Tuesday at 6pm, early by SF standards but filled to the brim. We waited a bit which left ample time to take in the interior. The exposed wood, unconventional use of metal pipes, unique “Dia de los muertos-inspired” art and very trendy blue walls were right up my alley. You can always count on San Francisco to use cool materials and colors in restaurant decor but this was especially nice. Thoughtful but not stuffy.
We started with “Padrecitos”, the house margaritas, and chips with guacamole. To quote Max, “I like my chips to leave grease stains at the bottom of the bowl.” You and I both, Max. The appetizers were nothing special but in my mind it’s hard to screw up chips and guac. Dinner was another story – delicious. Just know this is not a place for the “fair-of-meat.” We shared a few tacos, braised pork belly with smashed chorizo beans, goat barbacoa with avocado and brocolini and pork carnitas with habanero-cabbage slaw. I think it would be hard to choose poorly on the taco front. The chicken, duck and arctic char all looked amazing.
We probably could have filled our stomachs with just tacos but were in a sampling mood so we ordered not one but two enchilada dishes. The roasted chicken with mole amarillo, jack cheese and roasted garlic crema definitely made me want to test out my skills making mole in my own kitchen. In true wannabe Jewish mother fashion, the braised briskette enchiladas was my favorite dish. Served with rainbow chard, salsa quemada, cheddar and queso oaxaca I was in heaven.
Too full to finish our dishes but not ready to leave, we ordered another round of cocktails. The pasa tiempo (like a gin gimlet) was as tasty as it looked off the cleverly designed cocktail menu. Clearly enjoying ourselves, my only complaint would be the service. One of the reasons I was probably a horrible waitress in college was because I never wanted to interrupt conversation or make guests feel rushed, two things we felt at Padrecito. While the service wasn’t great, it wasn’t bad enough to to make me think twice before returning. If you’re looking for a meaty meal, Padrecito will not disappoint.
Padrecito, 901 Cole Street, San Francisco, CA (415) 742-5505, http://www.padrecitosf.com/, Tuesday-Sunday 5:30 pm – 1:00 am. Closed Mondays. Reservations recommended.