"In a restaurant no bigger than my living room, in the Pacific Heights neighborhood on a windy night, I cut into roasted fungus, each bite offering a semblance of home. As an Italian-Mexican American with Celiac disease, it’s not easy to eat dishes from that former national origin. Layer in my proclivity to eat vegan and I am often an inscrutable tiramisu of foodlessness. Not so the case at Jackson Fillmore Trattoria, and, no, it’s not because Dr. Fauci is looking out for patrons’ health. It’s due to the portobello mushroom. Though sold as antipasti, the $16.50 steak-sized serving is filling with its three big T-bone chunks, and exploding with umami. It’s sharply tangy from a balsamic vinaigrette glaze and enormous enough to live up to the price tag. Really, though, it reminded me of Sunday night dinners on the family farm, Nonna making gluten-free taquitos while everyone else ate Nonno’s mole." - Eater Staff
