Less than a month after opening, Ama, the new Japanese-Italian restaurant by celebrity chef Brad Kilgore in Transamerica Redwood Park, should be saturating your social media feeds with big plates of koji-dry-aged wagyu beef and housemade pasta.
It’s not—and that’s no accident.
Instead of relying on foodies and influencers to spread the word about the new restaurant, Ama is kicking it old-school, letting word of mouth do the work. Phones aren’t exactly outlawed in the swanky new space in the Pyramid’s shadow, but they are actively discouraged. Ama is meant to be experienced in person, not via scrolling.
It’s a nod to the pre-digital world in which the Transamerica Pyramid was built, an homage echoed throughout Ama’s design.
Yakitori-grilled diver scallops with warm nduja vinaigrette and whipped potato scented with smoked cheese at Ama(Joseph Weaver)
From the entrance, the restaurant appears to be a sophisticated Japanophile jewel box—an intimate, 18-seat dining room with a chic copper-wrapped bar and just enough traditional art to enhance, but not overwhelm, its dimly-lit vibe.
But behind the “Copper Room” hides a sultrier second space orchestrated by Kevin Klein Design. The “Social Club” is a direct descendant of retro ‘70s cool, part teenager’s basement hangout, part Studio 54-style club. Like a mid-century sunken living room, its center is anchored by a plush circular rug and overstuffed, brown-toned couches, with an oculus light dome overhead. An analog music booth faces the setup, a place both for DJs late night on Fridays and Saturdays and a “tiny desk” for live musicians on Thursdays.
One side of the room sports densely packed tables and a couple of vintage pinball machines, while the other has a collection of generous, semi-circular green leather booths. A mini library of architecture and design books are subtle reminders of the brutalist landmark outside.
From one of those half-moon alcoves, I have an unobstructed view of the entire “Social Club,” as it transitions from early evening to night. Those who are here for dinner have reserved a seat at the tables, while those here for cocktails only can drop in without an advance booking to sit in the central seating area (as long as it’s not already at capacity).
The Social Club at Ama(Yoshihiro Makino)
On both the food and drinks menu, Ama—which is both the Japanese word for mermaids and women pearl divers, and an Italian expression for love and devotion—does its name justice. Both juxtapose Kilgore’s affinity for Japanese technique and umami flavors with Italian soul and heritage.
In crudo form, this means slices of raw otoro with roasted garlic dashi topped with green olive granita, which delivers a surprising combination of textures and temperatures; with main dishes, it’s wagyu striploin with brown butter-miso or yakitori-grilled diver scallops with warm nduja vinaigrette and whipped potato scented with smoked cheese.
With his appetizers, Kilgore hits it out of the park. The bluefin tuna carpaccio, shaved ultra-thin and draped over a crispy rice ball like an elegant derby hat, progresses from delicate to spicy to comfortingly crunchy in a single bite. The arancini liquido, which has its own graceful “hat,” has a creamy filling of fontina, 18-month-aged gouda, and shiitake mushroom.
Bluefin tuna carpaccio at Ama(Joseph Weaver)
The soft egg—the dish that first made the chef a sensation in Miami—is delightfully decadent with a sea scallop and Gruyère espuma and an optional dollop of Osetra caviar. Paired with the Fuji-san brioche—a melt-in-your-mouth loaf with a tomato-miso glaze on top—it is an absolute must.
The pasta and rice department is staffed by goodies like uni puttanesca and a risotto made with prosciutto dashi, pickled hijiki, and black truffle chawanmushi. I choose the lumache diavolo, which has a light tomato-vodka sauce, a kick of Calabrian kosho, and a cooling dollop of yuzu whipped cream. The dish, which leans more Mediterranean than Japanese, can be upgraded with a whole Maine lobster finished tableside for dramatic flair.
And then there’s the meatball, a baseball-sized matrix of wagyu beef and salsiccia on a bed of umami pomodoro sauce dripping with caramelized fondue. It’s dense and rich and adeptly sidesteps common meatball complaints like overcooking and dryness.
Ama’s soft egg with caviar(Joseph Weaver)
Cocktails—which include the herbaceous cilantro and ume with sour apple, dill oil, and umeboshi bubbles, and the smoke-kissed tomato hana with toasted rice shochu, tomato-miso shrub, and yuzu vinegar—tend more toward the savory than the sweet, pairing well with the shifting meal. Desserts are, at least at this point, limited—though Kilgore’s version of tiramisu, the tira-miso with butterscotch miso and espresso cream, is said to be delicious (it was unavailable the night I visited).
To see what else Ama’s cooking up, you’ll have to put down your phone and get your own seat at the table.
// Ama is open Tuesday through Thursday from 5:30pm to 10pm and Friday through Saturday from 5:30pm to 11:30pm; 545 Sansome St. (FiDi), instagram.com/ama_bybradkilgore
Dining and Cooking