It was a rainy night in San Francisco, but we made it to San Ho Won. Unfortunately, the host at the door was not very welcoming, and to make matters worse, once we sat down, she served tea containing gluten to my guest, who is intolerant. Not paying attention and not seeming to care.
Luckily, our server noticed, but by that point it was already too late — my guest had already drunk one cup. “I am really sorry about that,” he said, apologising profusely.
“Well, hopefully he will be ok — it’s a good job it wasn’t coeliac,” I remarked.
For a one‑star restaurant, they really ought to take this more seriously.
After we got over that fiasco, it was time to decide what to eat. The spotlight shone on the barbecue, and for our first visit I chose the prime beef short rib, while my guest opted for the beef cap (which was gluten‑free). Our server was helpful throughout, regularly checking in on us and clearly outlining everything that didn’t have gluten. He managed to turn a bad start into a much better continuation.
At Michelin‑star level, I was expecting the short ribs to be more refined — with the bones removed for easier eating and wrapping in salad leaves. Some parts near the bone were tough, and if they want to be exact, this needs tightening up. I don’t know why, but Chef Alex Dilling suddenly popped into my head while eating, thinking about his insane sense of discipline. They could move in the same direction — on the road to elevation.
I also found the chopsticks uncomfortable to hold. They were an awkward shape at the top, which made my hand ache while trying to pull the meat from the bone and avoid the less tender parts. In the end, I gave up and used my hands. Obviously, the cut and its provenance play a part, but for star‑level short ribs, more detail should be implemented. Nevertheless, I did enjoy them.
The beef cap was tender, though it could have benefited from slightly more cooking. Nobody asked how we wanted it cooked — Americans really love to serve meat rare, no matter the cut. This doesn’t work for every piece of beef on the planet.
The desserts, however, were delicious — a surprise. The clementine sorbet and milk ice cream were outstanding. When I saw the huge mountain of soft serve arriving, I thought, “We are never going to eat all of that,” but lo and behold, none was left. It was sneakily addictive: one hit of sorbet led you back to the ice cream, then back again, repeating until it was all gone. I couldn’t put my spoon down.
For a Monday night, this restaurant is perfect. If you’ve had a long day and just want to turn up and eat without any fuss or frills, this fits the narrative. This was the first acceptable meal for me within the San Francisco star system so far on this trip, and I relished it — not knowing if or when it might happen again!
