April 2008 | Healthy Living :: Tastebuds

Dine Outside the Box

Tinderbox restaurant dishes up discovery in Bernal Heights

By Alastair Bland

Behind the benignly attractive façade of 803 Cortland, past the deejay and the cozy dining room, through the kitchen and out in back, lives the saddest garbage dumpster in all of San Francisco. Neglected, malnourished and virtually forgotten, this thwarted orphan met its lonesome fate through the knowing intent of two men — chefs Blair Warsham and Ryan Russell.

The duo opened Tinderbox restaurant in August in Bernal Heights, immediately wooing the neighborhood with artful, perplexing cuisine that defied definition. Within a warm environment of salvaged wood and non-toxic paints, Russell and Warsham have since kept up the good impressions while following a strict code of eco-sensible ethics; they employ local organic artisans, partner with Bay Area farmers, receive surprise visits from wild mushroom hunters and send all their used kitchen oil away as biodiesel. They use truly sustainable ingredients and cook entirely from scratch, with no packaging allowed on the premises, all scraps composted and all else recycled.

And they do it all while proudly, willfully depriving their dumpster — a noble commitment in an industry notorious for wasteful excess. Anyway, it’s just a dumpster. Let it eat cake.

Speaking of which, one of the most exciting desserts in the city comes from Tinderbox — a much-discussed dark chocolate cake bursting with molten blue cheese ($9). And that’s not the only startling flavor combo on the menu; there’s also a shrimp and “cheez gritz” ($12) in a vanilla dressing; smoked potato salad ($9); and basil panna cotta ($8). Plates of various shapes, sizes and slants carry these modern works of art from kitchen to table. The food is too dazzling to be rustic and too global to be Mediterranean. When pressed for an answer, Russell and Warsham will call it “New Melting Pot-American.”

When I visited Tinderbox in late February with a friend, we sat in the upper rear room and looked down upon the vibrant kitchen. Munching a basket of sesame-spiced popcorn and tippling glasses of black pepper-pear libations, we watched busy hands trade about homemade sauces, slice artisan sausages, decorate dishes with reductions, slice brilliant red fillets of Arctic char and spread dollops of curry mayonnaise over halved artichokes and sizzling endives. Nothing stirs up an appetite like watching chefs prepare delicious-looking food you know isn’t yours, but we were in good shape; orders for the potato salad and the feijoada franciscana ($10), an unusual clam soup, were waiting their turn in the Wednesday night lineup.

We shared a creamy-topped Old Rasputin Imperial Stout ($6) as we ate. We’d been recommended the fried game hen with plantain crust ($23), which Russell dreamed up on a park bench in Thailand while eating hot bananas and fried chicken, but I opted for the Arctic “char-char” ($24) and she for the candied, grilled tri-tip ($27). From the five-dish dessert list, we chose the cheezy date ($8) of Medjools intermingled with frozen piave vecchio and burnt balsamic, and the intriguing basil panna cotta (pictured in the montage above).

A handful of noble microbrews are served only on draft at Tinderbox; bottles are eschewed as unnecessary packaging. But for wine and sake, Russell and Warsham chucked their principles to the wind to build a formidable list. There’s no other way to get it but in bottles, explains Russell.

Fair enough. None of us are perfect — though some restaurants come pretty close.