
It used to be a clubhouse for S.F.'s literati. Now it's the city's most mysterious restaurant
What is it, indeed, and is it even open? Lillie Coit's website offers this description: 'Before Lillie Coit's makes its grand opening, we're inviting our neighbors, friends, and in-the-know San Franciscans to experience Petite Lil's— a neighborhood preview while we are still building.' According to its Instagram, Petite Lil's launched over two years ago, and the full restaurant, Lillie Coit's, will 'be opened when we're Ready!'
When I visited in May, the French-leaning restaurant seemed to be making incremental progress toward Readiness. The walls were swatched with paint. There was a sawhorse in the back corner, and the workman who had been manning that sawhorse was drinking at the bar. My party of four squeezed into the alcove that will someday become the Willie Brown booth, but which at the time consisted of two mismatched bar tables pushed together.
A restaurant in a vague state of openness with a years-long build-out might not be noteworthy were it not for Lillie Coit's location. It occupies 1707 Powell St., the North Beach building that formerly housed the legendary Washington Square Bar & Grill, known to a generation of Herb Caen readers as the Washbag.
In 2017, the Chronicle reported that Nick Floulis, the owner of Hole in the Wall Coffee (itself located on the site of another historic San Francisco institution, the Paper Doll Club), hoped to have Lillie Coit's up and running by the following year, so it seems unwise to make any firm predictions about when the restaurant may or may not open. But no matter — Petite Lil's is currently receiving guests and is worth a visit in its own right. The somewhat limited menu is plenty enticing and definitely quirky. For an additional $9, you can add a 'green Chartreuse luge' to your $18 order of bone marrow, and when you buy a $99 bone-in tomahawk 'booth steak' and a $18 French omelet, you get a shot of house amaro (it's Montenegro) gratis.
We did just that, and both the omelet and the 32-ounce steak — served with herb or anchovy butter, or, in our case, both — were superb. For dessert, there was a slice of fanciful St. Honoré cake ($12), walked all the way across Columbus from Victoria Pastry Company. It's a classic for a reason.
We departed before 10 p.m., but had we stayed, we surely would have partaken in oyster happy hour, which runs until 1 a.m. The purchase of six oysters ($23) gets you six more free. According to a white board dangling over the bar, someone by the name of Nathan Lane allegedly consumed 120 oysters in a single eve. Nathan, you doing OK, bud?
On a Thursday evening, the majority of the bar seats were occupied, and Floulis, who appeared to be holding down the fort with the help of one other bartender, seemed to know most everyone. Lillie Coit's might be mysterious to most San Franciscans, but to North Beach locals and industry folk, the secret is out.
Petite Lil's at Lillie Coit's. 1707 Powell St., San Francisco. lilliecoits.com
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


New York Post
an hour ago
- New York Post
Cooked: Celebrated Chef exits new venture after allegedly balking at free food for influencer because she wasn't famous enough
A prominent San Francisco chef threw in the apron at his newly opened cafe after allegedly belittling a TikTok influencer during a tense exchange over her follower count aired out in a viral video. The incident unfolded Wednesday at Kis Cafe in Hayes Valley, when 'micro-influencer' @itskarlabb described how she had pre-arranged a collab with the restaurant's team and showed up early to film content, according to a video she posted to her platform. 3 Influencer @itskarlabb was allegedly belittled by top chef Luke Sung over her supposedly low follower count, leaving her running from his new California restaurant in tears. itskarlabb/tiktok The influencer, known as Karla, claimed that a man — later identified as celebrated James Beard Award-nominated chef and co-owner Luke Sung — questioned her 15,000-follower count and told staff it was a 'mistake' to invite an influencer so small. 'I know they're talking about me, because I can hear them saying 'TikTok, views, followers' ,' she said in a later video, which has racked up more than 20 million views. The influencer said that when she introduced herself, Sung grilled her over whether she had researched the restaurant, a wine bar serving small bites. She insisted she knew the menu and the vibe, but Sung disagreed and began scrolling through her TikTok feed at full volume within earshot, the influencer said. 'After scrolling like, two times, he says to me that he doesn't think my videos are at the level which he wants his restaurant represented,' she recalled. 'It seemed like he was insinuating that my followers would not be able to afford to eat at this restaurant.' 3 Sung couldn't take the heat after the pair's alleged exchange went viral and left his new venture. San Francisco Chronicle via Getty Images Sung then reportedly asked, 'Do you know who I am?' and told Karla he was a two-time James Beard Award finalist and that his daughter is Big Apple vlogger, Isa Sung, who has 600,000 TikTok followers. He also dismissed the influencer's cooking videos she posted to her platform, dissing them as 'homey,' Karla said. The belittling exchange left her in tears, she said. 'I told him I felt disrespected and didn't want to collaborate anymore,' the influencer said. Karla's follower count has since skyrocketed to more than 350,000 since she shared the story on TikTok. The influencer said she wants to 'be an advocate for micro influencers' who don't receive as many handouts. 'You don't need to have a million followers to be respected or feel like you're making a difference,' she said. 3 Kis Cafe, which opened in May, announced that Sung had left as chef and co-owner. FOX By Friday, Kis Cafe's was getting cooked on Yelp, where its rating plunged from four to five stars to just over two stars, and reviews for 'Isa '– a 'pioneering' Cal-French restaurant that Sung previously opened and named after his influencer daughter — grew with haters lambasting the chef for his behavior. Kis Cafe, which opened in May, soon announced that Sung had left as a chef and co-owner, later clarifying he had done so of his 'own accord' and was not technically fired. 'Our chef's behavior was unacceptable, and he is no longer a part of the team,' Kis Cafe wrote in an Instagram post Thursday. The restaurant said it has now temporarily closed to 'restructure.' 'We want to create a space that's welcoming and respectful to everyone. In this instance, we failed to do so,' Kis Cafe said in a statement.

Business Insider
3 hours ago
- Business Insider
Inside Qatar's Michelin-star revolution led by Alain Ducasse
French culinary legend Alain Ducasse has opened two restaurants in Doha, and one of them, Idam, just earned Qatar's first Michelin star. We take a look at how he's bringing fine dining to the desert.


San Francisco Chronicle
a day ago
- San Francisco Chronicle
We have seen better days, San Francisco
It's the midpoint of a long, cold summer, and San Franciscans are restless. San Francisco seems to have lost its edge. Now is the summer of our discontent, as Shakespeare might say. If Shakespeare were here, he'd be worried, too. The arts are in trouble, community theaters have lost their audiences, museums are closing or cutting staff, the Opera is having problems, and Esa-Pekka Salonen has left the S.F. Symphony. Even the venerable Mountain Play skipped a season on Mount Tamalpais this year for the first time in 80 years. The audience wasn't there. San Francisco's formally fabled nightlife has gone dark. The gloom is widespread: D'Arcy Drollinger, the city's Drag Laureate, plans to close Oasis, a fabled drag club. 'We've been struggling, like a lot of other venues,' he said. 'Our margins are razor-thin.' Ben Bleiman reopened Harrington's, an old school bar in the Financial District, on the theory that the city was on the rebound. 'The fact that we are breaking even is a miracle,' he said. He should know. He's the president of the city's entertainment commission. The main question now is to find someone, or some group, to blame for this situation. The current thinking is that it's the young people — Gen Z, those born starting in 1997 and mostly in their 20s now. They drink tap water and Red Bull instead of craft beer and martinis, according to experts. Or maybe it's Gen X who are to blame for ruining things. Or the millennials, born after 1980, the children of Baby Boomers. They are old enough now to know better. One thing is clear: San Francisco is not what it was. It's those new people. They don't understand. My father used to talk that way, too. He used to say San Francisco was a lot better years ago — it was a golden age, he said. It was only later that I realized it wasn't a golden age for San Francisco so much as it was a golden age for him. It was like what they said about Lefty O'Doul: He was here at a good time, and he had a good time when he was here. You don't know Lefty O'Doul? You must be new in town. I was thinking of those times one day last week when I rode the 1-California bus from an appointment out in the Richmond heading downtown. Through the Western Addition, down California Street, switched to Sacramento Street, over Nob Hill, through Chinatown to Portsmouth Square, through the oldest part of the city. It was remarkably unchanged; the buildings looked the same, and the city had that hard-to-define San Francisco feel, as if something interesting might happen at any time. The city is full of high tech and AI is next, but on Kearny Street near Sacramento, two women were making dumplings by hand in a restaurant window. Enough of the familiar San Francisco. I thought. So I headed south, south of Market, south of the ballpark, to Mission Bay. It's a new city down there, all square glass buildings, not a breath of the old city. I am reminded again of the story Herb Caen told about the San Franciscan who died and went to heaven. 'It's nice,' he said. 'But it's not San Francisco.' I had lunch at Thrive City and watched a lunch hour exercise class, men and women stretching, bending, reaching for the sky outdoors in the plaza. Not the graceful tai chi programs you see at Washington Square in North Beach. Something new. Crowds of people, much younger than the usual city crowd, streamed by. The area around Chase Center is full of new restaurants, new parks and new people. Only a few years ago, this area on the edge of the bay was derelict, like the seacoast of nowhere — the railroad yard was empty, the ships had sailed, and weeds grew wild. A few remnants remain, including a dock where barges carrying freight cars tied up, like an artifact from the industrial past. Next to that is the clubhouse of the Bay View Boat Club, where salty San Franciscans come to drink beer and tell stories about the good times. Lady Gaga played Chase Center that night. A sold-out crowd. She had a show people wanted to see. Maybe all is not lost. So maybe this is the future of San Francisco, a mix of an older city and the new one. All glass and clean living mixed in with the city and a lifestyle we all came to admire. That's the way of cities: Tastes change. The best of the past survives, but something better usually comes along. Old-timers remember the scent of roasting coffee on the Embarcadero, but Hills Bros. could not compete with Starbucks. Maybe Gen Alpha — the only generation to live entirely in the 21st century — will adopt the philosophy of Marine Gen. O.P. Smith, a graduate of UC Berkeley. When asked whether his troops were retreating, he said: 'Retreat, hell! We're just attacking in another direction.'