On the Plate with Wise Sons Jewish Deli

| February 24, 2012 | 1 Comment
  • 1 Comment

Wise Sons Jewish DeliMuch ado has been made of the new permanent home of Wise Sons — the first Jewish deli in the Mission and, arguably, the only Jewish deli in San Francisco worth eating. The powerful but petite eatery’s proprietors, Evan Bloom and Leo Beckerman, have become local media darlings, featured everywhere from a fiery hot chef competition, to blogs, newspapers, and upcoming in Sunset magazine and perhaps on local TV show Dine and Dish. I myself, giddy after finding the long-craved 2nd Avenue Deli-quality eats of my people, gushed about them in this public love letter earlier this year.

But while the excitement of the experience has tongues wagging (mmmm…could we get some tongue on the menu, please?) what has not been fully explored is the uncompromising heritage and quality of the food. “We’re not a factory,” explains Beckerman. “We’re all about education — keeping this food and this culture alive and sharing it. The level of attention and detail we put into our work,” — brining and smoking the meat, baking the rye, preserving the pickles and jams, and making every single thing in-house from scratch or buying from top-quality local purveyors who do so — “this is truly slow food. That’s what people deserve.”

Wise Sons interior. Photo by Stephanie Rosenbaum
Wise Sons interior. Photo by Stephanie Rosenbaum

Bloom and Beckerman grew dissatisfied with their careers in construction management (Bloom) and non-profit medical development (Beckerman), and came together because of their love for food. Through kitchen experimentation and recipe development, the menu is a continuing work in progress. Its influences come from a number of sources — the glossy cookbooks of Joan Nathan and Secrets of a Jewish Baker, as well as spiral-bound DIY cookbooks from synagogues, Jewish community centers, temple sisterhoods and the like, “each featuring six different recipes for Matzo Ball Soup, all slightly different, as well as Mrs. Schmendrick’s Husband’s Favorite Soup,” says Beckerman.

The Wise Sons menu also owes a huge debt to Oliver, a family friend who was monumental in developing the house recipe for bialys (“Ollie’s Bialys,” quips Beckerman), as well as hand-written recipes on 3×5 index cards from Beckerman’s grandmother’s recipe file. “I went through that box with her before she passed away and asked her if I could take the ones I wanted. That was a nice passing on of recipes.”

Nothing served, however, is verbatim of any written formula, family-derived or otherwise. The challah is on the sweet side, and even though Wise Sons is not a kosher eatery, they opt out of butter in the recipe to keep it parve. And because it’s 2012, it’s topped with flaked sea salt just to make it awesome. And while Beckerman, who oversees most of the baking while Bloom takes on the meat and the savories, wanted to make his grandmother’s babke with nuts, raisins, and meringue, they opted for chocolate instead. “We ended up going in a different direction,” says Beckerman. “As soon as you put in nuts and raisins, it narrows down the audience. People have allergies.” Right. This is, after all, San Francisco and not the 1947 Lower East Side.

The brisket for the pastrami and corned beef is cut to Wise Sons’ specifications by Creekstone Farms in Kansas. But why not use what’s local and grass fed? Beckerman unapologetically explains, “The truth is that we found out that grass fed animals are much smaller and too lean, and the pastrami doesn’t come out as nice. There aren’t enough cows in the Bay Area to do what we do,” — which, on an average Tuesday at their Ferry Building kiosk, can easily mean 150-200 lbs. of beef and still a lengthy line-up of customers craving Reubens.

In America You Can Eat Challah Everyday. Photo: Stephanie Rosenbaum
Photo: Stephanie Rosenbaum

Beckerman and Bloom’s brand loyalty for ingredients is unbending. The chicken soup starts with Mary’s or Fulton Valley. The matzo and matzo meal is Streits. The flour is Giusto’s. And, true story: I wanted to buy a whole babke to send to my mother for Chanukah last December, but I was out of luck because the particular Guittard chocolate used in the recipe — E. Guittard 72 percent cacao — wasn’t available. And rather than settle for a chocolate substitute, Beckerman told me, there just wasn’t going to be any. This is the same reason you’ll only find bagels on Saturdays — when Beauty’s can deliver them. “I’d rather serve no bagels than crappy bagels,” he says. “Do you want twice as much of something half as good?” Wise words, indeed.

Wise Sons Jewish Delicatessen
3150 24th St
(415)787-DELI
Hours: Wednesday through Sunday, 9am to 3pm. Closed Monday. Serving Tuesdays at the Ferry Building 10am to 2pm.
Twitter: @WiseSonsDeli
Facebook: Wise Sons Jewish Delicatessen

Related

Explore: , , , , ,

Category: baking and bakeries, bay area, Bay Area Bites Food + Drink, chefs, cookbooks, dessert and chocolate, DIY, foraging, urban homesteading, food history and celebrities, local food businesses, restaurants, bars, cafes, san francisco, sustainability, environment, climate change

About the Author ()

Karen Solomon is the author of Can It, Bottle It, Smoke It and Jam It, Pickle It, Cure It (Ten Speed Press), and the host of the Jam It Salon at 18 Reasons. She has been a well-published food writer for over a decade. Her edible musings on the restaurant scene, sustainable food programs, culinary trends, food history, and recipe development have appeared in Fine Cooking, Prevention, Yoga Journal, Organic Style, the San Francisco Chronicle, San Francisco Magazine, the San Francisco Bay Guardian, Zagat Survey: San Francisco Bay Area Restaurants, and elsewhere, all of which showcase the diversity of her word-wrangling plate. Photo by Stacy Venturea
  • Steve Silberman

    My elderly Jewish mother and I took a cab all the way from the Upper Haight to Wise Sons for lunch the other day at 1pm. When we got there, we were informed that they were out of corned beef, pastrami, bialys, and steelhead, and that they only served the much buzzed-about corned beef hash on weekends. (Believe me, we didn’t take a cab there for the trumpet-mushroom Reuben.) I had a bowl of matzo-ball soup, which was a bowl of decent chicken broth — half the Chinese restaurants in this town make it better than that — with a single slice of carrot and a teaspoon of chicken threads (I’m not exaggerating). No dill, no sparkling globules of schmaltz on the top. Not bad, but it required compiling four recipes to make? My mother had a good smoked trout sandwich, which came with a limp 1/8 of a pickle. To make up for that, we ordered a $5 “pickle plate.” There was not a single pickled cucumber or tomato on it. It was three little mounds of pickled fennel, pickled mustard greens, and pickled radish slices — it looked like the punch line of a Woody Allen movie about a “Jewish deli” in San Francisco or some sort of tide pool. Again, it wasn’t bad, but when Jews hear the words “pickle plate,” they’re not dreaming of a quarter-cup of pickled mustard greens. Meanwhile, the music being played loudly was ’90s thrash. I have nothing against that music, but it sure didn’t help create the atmosphere of a Jewish deli. In other words, despite the endless “love letters” from blogs like this, Wise Sons is not yet ready for prime time. The mention of the 2nd Ave Deli in this post — which, by the way, still exists to offer object-lessons to any deli owner who wants to know what the Real Thing is — made me want to weep.