The wine, winter salad, and hearty pappardelle, made with heart — and tangled in a 10-hour bolognese of veal, pork, dry-aged beef, and prosciutto, showered in a heap of parmesan — was well worth the trip ... We watched an empty cable car rumble by. Our server promised to send us his awkward senior-year photo. And as we strolled back to our car, past the Bay Bridge twinkling through a narrow sliver of a steep street, I felt a San Francisco surge, of a different kind. — Rachel Levin, freelance writer and former Eater SF restaurant critic