The dinner experience at La Cigale is reminiscent of the nonfiction TV show, The Mind of a Chef. The kitchen feels like chef Joseph Magidow’s playground — a place where diners can watch Magidow working the central wood-fired hearth — though the menu isn’t
necessarily all about the char. The restaurant’s menu delves into southern France’s Occitan region. Magidow, who worked at restaurants Delfina and now-closed Tawla, demonstrates his knowledge and care for ingredients as he chats with guests. With the proteins, for instance, the chef told our dinner group that he butchers whole animals, rather than ordering specific cuts, and makes sure nothing goes to waste. A small, efficient team serves wine around the centralized dinner counter, clears plates, and otherwise lets Magidow run the show.
With just 14 stools total and two dinner services a night, La Cigale fosters an intimacy that allows for more natural interactions between diner and chef, and the exploration of mutual curiosities like a varietal of strawberry, or what gives lamb its gamey flavor. Whether you’re familiar with Occitan food or not — this is not a steak frites-type of French place — food nerds will enjoy the food and experience.
The vibe
The restaurant feels laidback and rustic, anchored by the hearth dominating the back of the kitchen and the surrounding, horseshoe-shaped cypress wood counter. Servers handle the water and drink orders, as Magidow approaches each party, taking his time to explain the menu and supplements. As visual aids, he had two chalkboards in tow with the dinner clearly laid out by the course, outlining the choices diners will have to make for the multi-course meal.
It’s easy to get distracted by the kitchen as Magidow rockets between the hearth and counter, fire crackling, herbs drying overhead, pans hanging across the industrial hood, and a gorgeous metallic slicer at one corner of the counter. At certain points, Magidow will bring elements of the hearth to diners; he took a fire-heated, spatula-shaped tool to the counter to sear nectarine slices at the start of the meal, and later brought out a flambadou, a metal funnel that seemed to drip flames onto plates of food. It’s entertaining without being unnecessarily showy.
What to order
- The food changes with the seasons, so I’ll give an overview of my dinner from late July. The three-course meal is $140 per person (meaning no tips or fees), with the option to add on other plates — “Les extras!” the smaller, tinier chalkboard sign declares. Each course comes with accompaniments, and plates are served family style per group. Dine in a group of four, and you’ll be able to eat across the menu and have more options.
- The cotes de mais, or grilled corn, spins forward your perceived notion of barbecued corn. Charred corn ribs on skewers arrive on a plate, and Magidow shaves thin ribbons of fig leaf butter over it, leaving it to melt over the warmed corn. Some ribs might look more charred than expected, but try a bite with the butter anyway; you might be surprised by it, as I was.
- The poulet a la broche en salmis is a spit-roasted heritage chicken, dressed simply in an Armagnac sauce. It’s a juicy and tender bird, one made all the better with flattened, crisp potatoes that have a pleasing char on them. You’ll want to push those potatoes through that sauce to reach true enlightenment.
- The carpaccio de thon is a carpaccio’d bluefin tuna caught, as Magidow shares, in the San Francisco Bay. Even if you’re tired of carpaccio, you’d be remiss not to order this if it appears on the extras menu. The tuna came thinly sliced and dressed in orange peels and green plums, with a brown butter sauce poured over top. Definitely not your standard-grade carpaccio.
The drinks
There aren’t cocktails to speak of, but there is a hearty French wine list that accompanies the meal. As the menu mentions, the wines focus on Occitanie, available by the glass or bottle. (The most expensive glass goes for $45, while the most affordable option was $15 during my visit; bottles, meanwhile, start at $60 and balloon to $185, and there is what I’ll call a “special occasion list” of rarer bottles upon request.) There are maybe five cider and beer options, and for nonalcoholic drinks, at the time of visit, there was a fig leaf and sorrel lemonade ($12); thyme, nepitella, and verjus tisane ($12); and hibiscus and lavender spritz ($12).
Insider tip
There is one fun, charming surprise at the restaurant that I won’t give away here, but if you trust me in any sort of way, bring a small trinket with you that you won’t mind leaving behind. Smaller is better (anything bigger than a deck of cards would be too big, I’d say), and I’m saving you from the disappointment of digging through your bag and discovering nothing to give.
The takeaway
If you want a thought-provoking dinner with food that is hard to find elsewhere, La Cigale is one to add to your list. By the end of the meal, we discussed why tuna is being caught closer to San Francisco, for instance (spoiler alert, it’s global warming!), and why lamb tastes gamey (lanolin is to blame). But for the deep dives into provenance and origins of ingredients, the restaurant doesn’t come off heady or showy, but instead comfortable and well-versed in all things food and cooking. If that sounds dreamy, head to La Cigale soon.
