Despite our bastardization of the croissant and lack of wrought iron towers, San Francisco was once nicknamed the “Paris of the West.” We owe that in big part to the city’s early French immigrants, who gave us our own—admittedly tiny—French Quarter in Belden Place and an iconic sourdough obsession that still runs deep. And while some of SF’s oldest French restaurants are gone, many excellent ones remain, joined by a new wave of spots serving escargot, cassoulet, and enough butter to start a side hustle in dairy.
