Addict Recommends: (Restaurant) The Tennessee Grill, San Francisco, California

I probably eat two thirds of my meals out. And although I love nothing more than an exquisite dining experience, especially in San Francisco – a perfectly medium rare steak at Morton’s, the multi course tasting menu at Coi, the sophistication of Bix – ninety-five percent of the time what I really need is simple fuel to keep my motor running. But let this fact not lead you to believe I am indifferent to what food I’m putting in my body. Rather, I look for restaurants where quality meets value, where the portions are monumental and I’m going to get more than my dollar’s worth.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I please introduce to you the Tennessee Grill. Located at 1128 Taraval Street in San Francisco, the Grill is hands down the best bang for your buck in the City and County. In a town where soaring prices for everything from real estate to parking is the norm, it is almost impossible to fathom that a restaurant like this can continue to exist.

The description that is most used to describe the Grill is the ubiquitous “greasy spoon.” And yes, the phrase most certainly applies. (I know of no better hang over remedy than a prolonged visit to the Grill.) But it is much more than that, offering a selection of traditional diner faire, full dinners, a halfway decent salad bar and an all day breakfast that is hard to beat.

Upon walking in you encounter the definitive reality of the place: there are absolutely, positively no frills. The décor is awful; the interior has obviously not been painted in a decade. (Though a meeting room has been recently added in the back.) But it is just this lack of embellishment that makes the Tennessee Grill what it is. There is a long counter where diners can sit and watch the cooks go to work, as well as a large selection of tables and booths where bigger groups can congregate. Depending on the time of day, there are two or three waitresses working the room. If it’s busy, don’t expect the fastest service in the world, though if you are patient and pleasant you will be treated in kind. (Linda and Elsie are particularly sweet.)

The menu is where the action is. If it’s breakfast you seek, the Lou’s Special (basically a Joe’s special with corned beef) is very popular. And, if chef/part owner Lou is personally manning the grill, the omelets are especially incredible – fluffy and stuffed with ingredients. The pancakes are usually excellent, and you can never go wrong with a traditional bacon or sausage and eggs. All plates include a generous serving of hash browns and toast.

Unless it’s early and I’m drinking coffee, however, I’m more of a lunch/dinner kind of guy. The sandwiches – BLT, chicken breast, club, steak sandwich, hamburger – are all good and will fill you up. But it’s the dinner entrees that truly satisfy my desire. Every entrée includes vegetables of the day (which are admittedly uninspired) and your choice of fries, mashed potatoes or rice, with a starter of your choice of a heaping bowl of soup or salad bar and a generous portion of sourdough bread and butter. The soups are generally very good, with the navy bean and beef barley leading the way. For less than ten dollars you can have pork chops, teriyaki breast of chicken, hamburger steak, chicken tenders, roast beef, turkey or barbeque pork ribs, to name but a few. For $11.25, you can get grilled lamb. And at $13.25, the marinated steak is the most expensive item available.

A couple warnings: the coffee is really bad. I don’t know what brand it is, but it tastes like burnt MJB. I still drink it, but you can’t be blamed if your palate is a bit more discerning. I have witnessed patrons dining unmolested with a Starbucks cup at their table, so maybe that’s the answer. But there is truly no remedying the men’s bathroom. Located up a flight of rickety stairs, it is home to some of the worst atrocities in the human experience. Elderly men often perch themselves up there for half an hour at a time. If you can, do everything in your power to avoid this nightmarish scene.

In my (even more) sordid past, there were many days when I would roll into the Grill at 5:00 in the evening, my head pounding from the previous night’s adventures, my stomach grumbling for satiation and only $15.00 in my wallet. I would gather up what remains of the newspaper were available on the front counter, grab a booth for myself and settle in for my hour long feast. Often, this was the only meal I would consume all day, and I relished every single bite. Sometimes, I’d go through a whole sourdough roll in the process, but the bread kept coming. The waitresses didn’t even look askance at me when I answered them, “no, just ice water will be fine.”

Today, my financial situation is just a little less desperate. But the Grill still reigns supreme in my mind. It kept me functioning in the past and will continue to do so in the future. I’d trade it for Morton’s any day.