Funnily enough, there's a Salt House back in Northwich, England. My family, most recently my lovely mum used to live in Northwich. I'm pretty sure it's not my family mentioned in the Domesday Book, when salt-making in the town was first mentioned in 1086.
That would all be interesting and relevant if that was where we were dining last night, but it isn't and it wasn't. The Salt House in San Francisco has nothing to do with salt, except maybe its spruced-up warehouse / loft building used to store salt? I don't know.
We've only eaten there a couple times before. Usually it's impossible to get, or stay comfortable anywhere near the bar and island thing, as there's waaaay too much noise and customers and staff are always trying to get past you.
Try and get a table near the back of the restaurant, where the noise is toned down a bit and you can concentrate on the excellent food.
We snacked on olives and nuts with our wine while waiting for the appetizers (Pork Confit for her, Pork Belly for me) and then our entrees (Salmon and New York Strip). Every mouthful zinged with flavor, and it was only the noise from everyone competing to get heard that stopped it from being a perfect meal.
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