Mister Jiu's

Mister Jiu’s was the hottest destination in town for fancy Chinese food when it opened in 2016, and was one of our site’s highest-rated restaurants. Since then, things have changed. Namely, the format—they switched to a $125, five-course tasting menu. So gone are the a la carte salt-baked fish, cheong fun topped with silky uni, and perfect, plump potstickers that made us fall in love with this place. Each table is now also required to add on one of four family-style entrées, ranging from $35 mu shu mushrooms to a $150 whole Peking duck. Unfortunately, the new experience doesn’t consistently deliver enough wow factor to justify the higher price tag. 

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

Still, the dining room is top five in the city. Gold lotus chandeliers dangle overhead, and a hive of staff meticulously tweeze and plate in the open kitchen under spotlights. All this sexy lighting will make you want to turn to your table mate and impersonate the heart-eyes emoji. Adding to the “I love San Francisco” fuzzies you feel during a meal here are the high-up views overlooking the glowy Chinatown lanterns.

All this to say, we wish the seasonally changing tasting menu, a blend of Californian farmer’s market hauls and traditional Chinese dishes, lived up to the room’s grandiosity. The too-mild crab and soy “burrata,” and the buckwheat honey walnut prawn that’s overwhelmed by condensed milk, just fall flat. But the next course, maybe a butter-soft tuna crudo or supreme broth with grilled sticky rice and female ginseng, might inspire you to mutter an awed expletive. For what you’re paying, it’s not ideal to gamble on whether you’ll leave completely satisfied. 

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

The night's high point is that mandatory entrée, which comes before dessert. They change up often, but always impress. For example, the whole Peking duck alone will set your fowl bar high for the foreseeable future. Slices of roast duck, with skin sparklier than an ABBA-themed nightclub, are fanned out on a circular platter, accompanied by a dream supporting cast of hoisin, liver mousse, and pancakes. Another home run is the crispy Hong Kong-style noodles saturated in an umami-rich oyster gravy, and methodically mixed tableside by friendly staff who excel in the art of the soft smile. 

There is a hack to spend less money while ensuring you eat dishes full of in your face flavor: walk up to the bar or reserve a two-person high-top, and order from the short a la carte menu. It includes some of Mister Jiu’s standout, pre-tasting menu dishes like the cheong fun, sourdough scallion pancake, and that Peking duck. You’ll experience less of the dining room allure, but you’ll still get to chat it up with a tattooed bartender, admire the fish tanks behind them, and drink a cocktail that perfectly nails the whole not-too-sweet thing.

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

There’s no denying the impact this place has had over the last decade—and the fact that it’s been the perennial backdrop to countless ball-out dinners, our own included. Is Mister Jiu’s still an SF legend to cross off your bucket list? Yes, in a way. The menu we love just happens to live at the bar. Until the next iteration, for now, just slide into a seat there.

Food Rundown

photo credit: Carly Hackbarth

Stemple Creek Beef With Hong Kong Noodles

If this shared entrée is on the menu, order it. The razor thin noodles retain the ideal crispy-chewy texture ever after the oyster gravy is mixed in. The wok-fried choy sum adds more of a welcome crunch.

Sourdough Scallion Pancake

A constant on the bar menu, and one dish we never leave here without ordering. The tangy, puffed-up pancake is dusted with dehydrated scallion and served with a side of caviar and decadent crème fraîche.

photo credit: Susie Lacocque

Cheong Fun

Another go-to off the bar menu. One day it’ll be filled with shrimp, and clams or mushrooms the next. Always count on the rice noodles to be thick and bouncy.

Liberty Farm Peking-Style Roast Duck

If you’re with a group, the Peking duck ($150) is the way to go. It’s a fixture on both the bar and tasting menu. The heap of roast meat and glistening skin is enough to feed the Warriors bench, and then some. What sets this duck apart is all the fixings: thin pancakes, peanut butter hoisin, and velvety duck liver mousse.

Char Siu Iberico Pork Chow Fun

The noodles in this add-on entrée have the right smoky char to them, but the Iberico char siu is hit or miss—some pieces are too tough to bite, which is a bummer considering this dish runs $42. We’d be bigger fans if they used a different type of meat.