Ritual Meals
Same night, same order
WRITER Flora Tsapovsky
This year, instead of crossing a new country off my list, I went to Mexico City for the third time, bringing along my mom—a first-time visitor. There was something rebellious about that; returning to a place rather than seeking someplace new was not only relaxing and comforting, but it also allowed for a deeper, more nuanced experience. The same thing can be said about ritualistic, repeat dining, an idea Bay Area restaurants are all too happy to embrace this year. Picture this: same meal, same concept, recurring monthly or weekly.
It becomes a peg in your routine, you morph into a regular. You bring friends—once familiar with an experience, it’s particularly nice to share it with someone new, as I learned from my last trip—and settle into the rhythm of things. Around the Bay, five restaurants execute the art of the ritual especially well. Here’s all you need to know to become a regular.
The Party: Spill The Tea at Jaji
Last Thursday of every month. Jaji, 422 24th St., Oakland.
Casually branded as a monthly lady’s night, Spill the Tea turns the already-popping Afghan restaurant in Oakland into a night out, complete with a belly dancer, henna tattoos, and music. Spirits are high as some guests shake their hips alongside the dancer, while others “confess” their digressions to a fake priest behind the bar. For a city big on tasting menus but slim on this type of immersive, vibey nights, the evening feels positively electric.
“Spill the Tea adds a little something so that we’re doing something more special than just getting dinner,” Caroline Mejia, a teacher from Berkeley, told me. Attending with a mixed group of friends who all had matching henna tattoos, Mejia had also come in February, to celebrate Galentine’s Day. “It feels like a community event,” she said, “coming back to the same type of event and meal is special and familiar.”
The Neighborhood Night: Burger Wednesday at Outerlands
Every Wednesday. Outerlands, 4001 Judah St., San Francisco.
Between the wood accents, the iconic status and its hold on the Avenues, Outerlands lends itself perfectly to the concept of a weekly neighborhood ritual. On a chilly Wednesday night, the charming Outer Sunset spot was especially packed, with families and friend groups happily munching on the excellent menu highlight: a crispy, juicy burger on a fluffy potato brioche, available only on that day of the week. Biting into mine, I looked around and realized sharing the very same meal with everyone else in the space had intensified my sense of belonging, though I don’t live in the neighborhood.
Jeana Loraine, seated solo at the bar, does, however—and she’s at Burger Night every week. An artist and community organizer at the nearby gathering space Sealevel, she frequents for the “perfect” burger, but also for community. “It feels nice to come to a place where you know everyone,” she said between messy, joyful bites. “It becomes a thing on your calendar—a routine you look forward to.”
The After-hours Hang: Mermaid Meal at Bar Maritime
Tuesday–Thursday 4–6 pm and 9–10 pm. Bar Maritime, 417 Stockton St., San Francisco.
Tucked away inside Palihotel downtown, whimsical Bar Maritime is the type of place you can show up to alone, perch up on the bar, and embrace the brooding pose of a lone sailor. Would a modern-day sailor order a $25 Mermaid Meal consisting of a radicchio Caesar, french fries and a Martini? Of course they would. Especially fun after a long day, this offering was visibly popular around the space at the time of my late-evening visit, balancing virtue and vice.
“It’s our play on the “girl dinner” trend that offers highly comforting, accessible dishes alongside a customizable martini,” Chef Felix Santos told me. “It’s all about creating a ritual for our guests. When work is overwhelming or the news cycle gets heavy, we want this meal to be a reliable source of comfort and joy.” Legendary bartender Larry Piaskowy loves the concept, too, and sees it thrive; the other day, he said, “We’ve been open an hour today and have already sold four.”
The Tiny Happy Hour: Mini Meal at Holbrook House
Monday–Friday 4–6 pm. Holbrook House, 1 Sansome St., San Francisco.
The dirty martini was large and strong, so no wonder what followed made me giggle and take a photo or two: the tiniest hamburger, elegantly skewered and topped with a cornichon, and an even tinier hash brown, dramatically crowned with a dollop of caviar. This is Hollbrook House’s viral “mini meal”: a $25 weekday Happy Hour deal that pairs the drink with comically small accompanying bites.
I wasn’t the only one to enjoy the whimsy of the situation. At 5:30 pm, several patrons at the grand, chic restaurant were properly imbibed and entertained by the mini meal, including Saralyn Sheehy, a local hospitality expert who had brought her teenage daughter—who enjoyed a ginger ale—and an East Coast transplant friend who’s moving to Sausalito, to enjoy the tiny bites. “I told my friend, ‘Come meet me for a burger,’ and we had a good laugh,” she says. “We also joked that if we invited our other friend, she’d take the bun off! We will be back.”
The Family Meal: Weekend Feast at Barcha
Every Friday and Saturday night. Barcha, 425 Market St., San Francisco.
Dramatic tagines cover the tables. Small mezze plates—labneh, muhammara, baba ganoush—are scattered throughout, ready to be destroyed by pita chunks. The DJ is playing soft, vaguely Mediterranean beats. Welcome to Barcha’s weekend feast, a long-overdue hosting format that, for $55 a head, invites guests to partake in a leisurely, generous meal. On a Friday night, the atmosphere and food signaled that the week was over—a welcome feeling, well-paired with a steaming lamb tagine and vibrant crossover of falafel and shakshuka.
Many guests, our server told me, return here with bigger and bigger groups, convincing everyone to participate. “Tagines play a key role,” noted General Manager Brigid Huntoon. “They’re designed for sharing, with a beautiful presentation, and allow us to cook slowly and with care. The format appeals to both our regular guests and a new weekend audience looking for something generous, flavorful, and communal.”