Never having penetrated San Francisco beyond the Powell Street BART station, I put my directional ineptitude to the test trying to navigate my way to Firefly. I ventured in the wrong direction twice before realizing I would have to trek up a Sisyphean slope. Firefly is located in a neighborhood that bellows tranquility. Inside the restaurant, though, spirited confabs emanated from every table - except mine, of course.
The meal commenced with a warm loaf alongside a spread, replacing bread's quintessential accoutrement, butter.
The meal commenced with a warm loaf alongside a spread, replacing bread's quintessential accoutrement, butter.
I hope the photo sufficiently conveys their seared surface, for each bite let off an audible crunch.
On to my carrot eating friend, the rabbit. It seems every time I order rabbit, carrots accompany it, which instinctively evokes images of Bugs Bunny cartoons. Alas, this photo fails to spotlight my favorite feature of this dish - undulating tarragon dumplings that were as soft and delicate as temper-pedic pillows.
Grilled rabbit loin and mustard braised leg with tarragon dumplings, arugula and grilled torpedo onions
With each bite, the bulbous huckleberries burst with tartness, providing a perfect balance to the ice cream's emollience; the cookie's moist consistency coupled with the ripe plum slices were equally tasty.
Firefly's prix fixe - three courses for $35 - remains one of the best deals I have come across. Inviting and efficient service made for a comfortable ethos that I would not mind revisiting.
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