We ate one of our top five brunches EVER in a surprisingly low-fi, uncrowded little nook. The restaurant is called Pomelo and their tagline is “refreshingly global,” which immediately irritated me. It conjures up images of long-haired white guys playing Nepalese mountain music while eating goji berries under a vast open sky. Sick.
At the very least, it sounds like “fusion cuisine,” a laughably overplayed concept. Every Asian restaurant in Queens says they are fusion, because like, they use garlic in their egg rolls. I digress.
The cool thing about Pomelo is that they don’t try to merge disparate cuisines. Rather, their menu has a host of distinctive items from many parts of the world, each one indicating it’s place of origin, using whatever produce is local and in-season. And not just “everything from Colombian to Argentinian” either. This was true diversity.
SK ordered the Eastlake, billed as a Seattle food, which was smoked trout and red potato hash with wild rice and horseradish cream, two poached eggs and “artisinal pugliese toast” (whatever that means). I got the Altamira, a Caracas specialty, which was three crispy white corn buns, one filled with egg, one filled with potato, tomato, and queso fresco, one filled with beef mechada, black beans, fried plantains and grated cheese, served with a spicy avocado salsa.
Our two dishes couldn’t have been more different, but they were equally amazing. This restaurant is a must-try if you visit or live in SF. HOWEVER, only go there for brunch. We were muy disappointed when we returned for dinner several days later.