By Frank Sabatini Jr.
Unmarked and somewhat hidden from sight is an open-air dining area incorporated into RoofTop600 at Andaz San Diego, which operates mainly as a sun deck, evening bar lounge and special-events venue. Yet for those ascending to the hotel’s seventh floor for breakfast, lunch or weekend brunch, some lovable culinary surprises await.
Heading the kitchen is Chef Laura De Martin Fabbro, a northern-Italian transplant who worked previously at nearby Sally’s Seafood on the Water. Her rooftop fare, constructed with elegant sauces and wholesome ingredients, is deserving of the sweeping urban views that come with it.
Conversely, star-quality dishes like Jidori chicken hash accented by chili-lime Hollandaise or “green omelets” laced with kale and spinach puree are served within a section of the roof that doesn’t quite feel like a restaurant.
The makeshift arrangement of tables is fronted by linen-draped couches resembling king-size beds, with no partitions separating sun worshippers from diners. A wall behind the dining area bluntly conceals the kitchen, except for a small row of windows looking in. And there is no host station or signage indicating that you’ve arrived to an establishment serving food when disembarking from the elevator.
Wandering accidentally over to the pool at first, a friend and I came for breakfast, which is served daily from 6:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. on weekdays. (A similar brunch menu is available until 2:30 p.m. on weekends.) We began with muesli, a dish we would have likely skipped until learning that it’s house-made.
The bowl of goodness featured steel-cut oats roasted with cocoa, brown sugar and maple syrup. Almonds and malt powder are also used in the recipe, qualifying it as one of the least vapid and darkest-color versions of muesli I’ve ever crunched through. It comes with plain Greek yogurt or milk. We chose the former, which added the perfect tang, although when dousing it later with milk, its gravel-y texture softened more to my liking.
The chef does wonders with eggs and potatoes. My companion’s “So-Cal” Benedict featured two jiggly poached eggs set atop avocado, smoked turkey and English muffins. A draping of creamy chili-spiked Hollandaise, garnished with micro purple basil, raised the dish to superior status.
An oh-my-God moment ensued when my friend took his first bite into a couple of small Yukon Gold potatoes that came alongside. For good reason, he insisted I taste them immediately.
The chef roasts the spuds in herb oil, salt and pepper, and then partially breaks their skins before giving them a fast deep-fry. Served plainly, they tasted better than any baked potato loaded with butter and sour cream.
Juicy and flavorful Jidori chicken that is raised free-range on deluxe vegetarian diets was a bonus in the hash I ordered. The pulled meat teamed up with diced cuts of the aforementioned potatoes, fresh soft-cooked kale and two poached eggs crowned with spicy lime Hollandaise sauce. The medley was further propelled by mushrooms that many chefs tend to avoid because of their expense: shimejis, oysters and criminis. This was breakfast hash at its earthiest.
Blueberry buttermilk pancakes with chia seeds were also stellar, leading us to believe at first that the ultra-fluffy disks contained some type of rising agent. But apparently not, as the chef later explained that it boils down to methodically mixing the ingredients together until the batter is smooth and glossy – an art that I’ve yet to master in my own kitchen.
Other items on the breakfast menu include “eggs in a pot” with kale, bacon and smoky tomato puree; a carnivore’s omelet with turkey chorizo, chicken and bacon; and a tempting version of huevos rancheros elevated by avocado and tomato-chili sauce.
Lunch patrons are afforded such choices as goat cheese terrine with roasted beets, shrimp mac-and-cheese with Poblano chilies and seared local halibut served with a fried egg, roasted corn and quinoa.
While meal service on this rooftop remains relatively unknown, it serves as an affordable and secret alternative to other breakfast spots on the streets below, provided you don’t mind the occasional waft of suntan oil crossing your table.
—Frank Sabatini Jr. is the author of “Secret San Diego” (ECW Press), and began writing about food two decades ago as a staffer for the former San Diego Tribune. You can reach him at [email protected].