Delfina

3621 18th St, San Francisco, CA

Start with the spaghetti pomodoro. It’s like Delfina’s handshake. Straightforward, confident, no frills. Tomatoes, pasta, al dente bite. Nothing showy, nothing that needs explaining. Just proof that simplicity, done right, still kicks the crap out of most of the overwrought nonsense being plated elsewhere.

The grill is all swagger: lamb chops, pork, whole fish, whatever’s on the board that night. Fire, smoke, salt. It’s food you want to tear into, maybe with your hands, maybe with a second glass of red before you’ve finished the first. Pizzas? To die for. We order from their pizzeria on every visit to The Bay.

And dessert? Sure, there’s panna cotta, crostata, gelato—but the poached pear is the unforgettable sleeper. It doesn’t strut; it winks. Soft, perfumed, giving way at the touch of a spoon. It’s the little surprise at the end that makes you grin and think, “Yeah, they still got it.”

Delfina isn’t trying to reinvent itself. It doesn’t need to. It’s the Mission’s old reliable, the place you keep coming back to because, like any good friend, it makes you feel at home and a little bit spoiled all at once.