My Labor Day weekend had very little to do with labor, and everything to do with long days of wandering, writing, and eating. Three lethargic days showing inquisitive and delightful Anthony around the city, and time elevating my knee, cursing my clumsiness, and trying not to cry whenever the thought of not being able to run the marathon crept into my mind. On Saturday morning, I tripped and fell while running, landed directly on my knee, and it hasn’t been reacting well. It doesn’t really bend. I can’t stand for a long period of time, so going to the grocery store or cooking hasn’t sounded like much fun. A good excuse to eat out. A lot. So on Saturday morning (post-pavement encounter), Linnea, Anthony and I all piled into the car and headed over to the Dogpatch, fast becoming my new favorite neighborhood in SF. It was once the industrial center of town (if you could call it a “center” of anything), and much industry still remains. It’s gritty, it’s often sunny when the rest of the city isn’t, there are big deserted lots, sweet hidden galleries, independent jewelers and furniture designers, and lunch windows serving out of loading docks. It’s got spunk. And it’s got Serpentine, a corner restaurant on 3rd, touting “honest food and classic cocktails.” And a damn fine brunch.

Serpentine is truly light and airy. It seems these days people use those words to describe virtually every restaurant with large windows and an open floor plan. But it’s the real deal here. With its high ceilings and sea-glass fixtures, it feels more like a magical city loft than a fully functioning restaurant. In addition, much of the typical restaurant din (clanking spoons, steaming milk, martini shakers) is strangely absent. And not because the place was empty (in the photo above, it was…but we closed the place down). Serpentine is quiet and serene, the perfect spot to roll out of bed and stumble into. It almost welcomes you with open arms.

But if all of this were true and the food was lousy, none of it would matter. Such is not the case. The food is thoughtful: each component selected to complement the others in terms of taste, color, and texture. The best part about going out with a few open-minded friends is sharing everything. So begins our eating pilgrimage: we ordered the Alaskan sockeye salmon benedict ($13.50) with fried green tomatoes, pickled red onion, and lemon cumber. Truthfully it was a little heavy on the potatoes and the fried green tomatoes were noticeably absent. But the salmon was cooked perfectly and the hollandaise sauce was surprisingly light and creamy. It was a beautifully layered dish–I just would’ve loved to see the tomatoes amongst the mix.

Next we shared the “red flannel hash,” the best brunch dish I’ve had in quite some time. It consisted of chunks of perfectly roasted beets, potatoes, Prather Ranch beef brisket, two poached eggs, and spinach ($13.50). It was filling but not in a ‘stack of pancakes’ kind of way. More in a fresh, balanced, satiated way. I love the combination of runny eggs on top of beets and perfectly tender brisket. My chubby sixth grade self reared her ugly head, and I had a little trouble sharing this one.

We also ordered a few smaller dishes: the housemade granola with blossom bluff peaches ($4.50) and the buckwheat pancake with strawberries, walnuts, and whipped cream ($5.50). The granola wasn’t anything special. It was lovely, with thinly sliced, perfectly ripe peaches. But something I could (and do) put together at home.
The pancake, however, I would order again. There were actually strawberries baked inside and on top, and the maple syrup was the most buttery I have ever tasted. With a little black coffee, this would be all you’d really need on a foggy morning with nothing much on the agenda.

All in all, the food was seasonal, conscious, and well-executed. This is a true neighborhood restaurant. It’s tucked away, so you have to seek it out. But once you find it, you’ll be back. This may be my new favorite brunch spot as it seems the usual mid-day weekend crowd hasn’t yet descended, so there isn’t an obscenely long wait and you don’t feel guilty lingering over numerous cups of coffee. Which is exactly what we did.

Serpentine: 2495 3rd St. (between 20th and 22nd St.) (415) 252-2000