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Rickybobby’s Lower Haight Soul Food


Ricky Bobby

Ricky Bobby











Whichever way you say it, either with an outlandish French accent or with an exaggerated southern drawl, the phrase “Rickybobby” will heretofore be music to my ears, being now associated with great comfort food.

It’s rare that I get to a restaurant before either of the two weekly San Francisco rags (S.F Weekly and S.F Guardian) do so.  I was able to avail myself of Rickybobby‘s sublime cuisine ahead of the buzz due to some inside information from a coworker in the industry, for which I’m suitably grateful.  There are, after all, some perks to be enjoyed living and breathing in the cozy purgatory called the restaurant business.

Rickybobby’s is a brimming pot of honey around which I reckon locals and sojourners from other parts alike will swarm to.  It successfully appeals to the caveman core of the being and obliterates rationality or cynicism. I went with a friend and we ordered more than any two people in their right minds should think is manageable in one sitting: a  crawfish meat and shrimp swimming in a rich bowl of grits; lobster mac n cheese, creamy and rich underneath and crispy brown perfection on the surface; two fat chicken drumsticks glazed in some ingenious substance and rolled in what I hazily recollect as being sesame seeds; a generous salad of mache (a mild green), vivid beets and deep fried oysters; and on the side a basket of thin-cut fries.  Added to that were two pints of very good IPA whose name I can’t recall.  All this for about 44 dollars, which for two people is a bargain considering the sweet tune our tastebuds were singing to our brains and the difficulty we had dragging our worldly vessels out of the door and back into the freezing air of Lower Haight.   Even if you think Rickybobby’s cinematic namesake is overrated, don’t make the mistake of conflating that film’s mediocrity with this new eatery.

400 Haight Street (@ Webster)
[Lower Haight]

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Fatt Mink

Fatt Mink

Matt was born into a family of dreamy-eyed bookworms and staunch leftists in downtown San Jose, California. The sperm of the writing arts have long swam in his blood looking for the ovum of inspiration. However, his first love was music rather than literature; in 2002 he moved to San Francisco and studied Music and Italian, graduating in 2007. His move to S.F. coincided with the urgent need to pay his way; thus he joined the teeming ranks of the restaurant industry, where he still slaves away tending bar in the city's finer purveyors of food and grog, giving him a ground-level perspective which informs his writings about the Bay Area's ever-expanding culinary scene.

  • Natalie Hopner

    Concise, flowing writing as usual Fatty Mink. I would only mention that these guys were killing it too at their previous location, the Broken Record, before moving to their own locale. Congrats to them on moving up in the world, and damn we miss them in the Excelsior!

  • anadromy

    Fuck this place. The service is TERRIBLE. Like shockingly, Seinfeld-episode level bad. We ordered a salad and some entrees. The waiter mumbled at us and brought a bowl of grits, placed it in the center of the table with one spoon and walked away. When we asked for some extra silverware and–you know–maybe some plates? he was very dickish and unconcerned, to say the least, with the fact that we might need utensils to eat the food. But when we asked why we wouldn’t get our salad before our entrees, that’s when things turned surreal. The manager–I assume–snobbishly advised us to “read the yelp reviews” in advance before coming so that we would know “that’s how we do things.” Like I said, fuck this place. All my friends, family, friends of friends, strangers on the street will be hearing about this. I hope it shuts down soon.

  • Matt Fink – Fatt Mink

    In response to Anadromy:
    1) Restaurants ought not to be so harshly judged based on one experience; some nights don’t go as well as you’d like. Have some understanding, and perhaps even give it another try (many reviewers go to a restaurant three or four times before they render judgment).
    2) Certain restaurants do have different ways of doing things. The presence of the word “salad” in a dish’s description doesn’t necessarily dictate when it should go out. If you were at Red Lobster, I’d say you’d have a point.
    3) Rickybobby is a very new restaurant and sometimes there are kinks that need ironing out. Try and understand: opening a restaurant is a labor of love with the stress on “labor”, and that shitting all over it because you had a less than stellar experience is in bad taste.
    My experience was far different than Anadromy’s, so if you happened to read his/her comment, please don’t take it as gospel.

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