Tyler Florence gets his redemption — and a shot at legend status

Eat Here Now is a first look at some of the newest, hottest restaurants around — the ones we think are worth visiting. We dine once, serve forth our thoughts, and let you take it from there.

Do not go to Wayfare Tavern 2.0 looking for novelty or an epicurean thrill. 

However, if you’re a middle manager in charge of finding a suitable dinner option for a diverse group of coworkers, then you’ve found a winner.  

Last month, Wayfare Tavern ended a 14-year run at its original location and made a long-awaited move to a grand space three blocks away at 201 Pine St. But fans of the restaurant since it opened in 2010 can rest easy knowing that many things feel comfortingly familiar. The dining room still feels like an upscale tavern decorated by a wealthy hunting enthusiast. Your meal will still start with pillowy popovers. You may even recognize some of the staff. 

But don’t mistake the lack of change for a lack of ambition. Celebrity chef and owner Tyler Florence knows that consistency — not creativity — is how classics get made. And he’s out to make Wayfare Tavern the next great San Francisco restaurant. 

“We want Wayfare Tavern to sit shoulder to shoulder with legacy giants of the city like Tadich and Sam’s,” Florence says. “We’ve built this restaurant to be here for 50 years.”

Like most things that are built to last, Wayfare’s menu doesn’t take big, risky swings. This is a restaurant intended for mass appeal in a part of town not known for culinary prowess, and Florence knows it. At nearly 10,000 square feet, it is quite literally a big investment in downtown San Francisco. But even after being both held up as a key driver of the area’s recovery, then accused of abandoning it, Florence is more than a little bullish about where he’s planting his flag. “Why would you think that we would want to go anywhere else?” he counters when asked why he didn’t consider a move to somewhere of the moment; say, Chestnut Street, among heavy hitters like the new Little Original Joe’s, or Jackson Square. “This is definitely a downtown restaurant. I think it’s perfect for downtown.” 

There are oysters on the half shell (a chef’s selection from both coasts) and a serviceable shrimp cocktail served with Fresno chile sauce that offers only the gentlest whisper of heat. For anyone who’s had the all-American pleasure of a cheese ball hors d’oeuvre, the tuna dip — a ball of smoked fish that’s rolled in fines herbs — will be a nostalgic delight, complete with a side of saltines. One of the most out-of-the-box dishes is the wagyu bavette, which achieves new heights of richness thanks to a heady combination of truffle, bone marrow, and bordelaise and gets rolled into a tight pinwheel before being showered in crispy shallots. 

The prime beef tartare remains almost exactly the same as when it first appeared on the menu, which was “day one,” Florence says. It’s an unctuous blend of hand-cut filet mignon and Dijonnaise adorned with crispy capers and shallots and delicate microherbs. At its center sits a golden egg yolk that begs to be broken before you scoop bites onto salty, house-made Kennebec potato chips. 

“Michael Bauer called it a masterpiece,” Florence says, referencing a nearly 15-year-old article by the Chronicle’s former chief critic. (Apparently, Thomas Keller isn’t the only chef who has critics’ words permanently ringing in his ears.) 

Securing a place on San Francisco’s restaurant Mount Rushmore is no small dream. But Wayfare’s imposing new home is appropriately sized to accommodate it. It now spans four dining rooms, each one just cramped enough that you feel cozy and tucked away no matter where you sit.  

A trio of glassy-eyed deer heads peer out over the snug bar, and a mounted goose, wings outstretched like it’s ready to soar out the door, points its beak toward the front dining room, which is crowded with low-slung tables and plush banquettes. The “green room,” Florence’s favorite, has a row of booths that offer a front-row view of the action in the kitchen. Down a dimly lit hallway, a wine room has overflow seating for when everything else is full — which happens often, according to the chef. Upstairs there’s even more space for events. 

In a city full of restaurants that dive deep into uncommon cuisines and menus that change with the seasons, there’s something remarkable about a place that’s unabashedly the same. In fact, if Florence has his way, it’ll stay that way for the next half a century. “You build a legacy restaurant,” he says. “And this restaurant’s not going anywhere.”