Mandarin Oriental
      San Francisco

Cocooned in a coral and sea foam-green loveseat, the tranquility of a tropical afternoon seeps in with my first sip of silver jasmine tea; I look up and San Francisco, bridge to bridge, is before me. This is the Mandarin Oriental—exquisite details of the Orient juxtaposed against beautifully-bold San Francisco.

One minute I float dreamily above the clouds contemplating the point of the Transamerica Building and the next I watch sailboats racing on the Bay. By night, the lights of the city mesmerize me. At the Mandarin Oriental, San Francisco (MO to its fans) all the rooms are on top—the top eleven stories of the city’s third tallest building to be precise. Every one has a drop dead view, but they don’t all face the Bay. Thoughtfully, the MO supplies binoculars—the sailing races are exciting, but the boardrooms of the financial district make for pretty boring peeping.

Peeping inside my room—a Bayview King—understated elegance and luxurious quietude prevails. Originally built as a condominium, it is spacious with generously-sized baths and closets. A sitting area—with the aforementioned loveseat—includes a tub chair that swivels from view to conversation and a lounge chair complete with ottoman and good reading lamp. Soft coral and sea colors accented by stronger pumpkins and jades enrich the silk and brocade fabrics. A terrific chintz bedspread stages scenes from the Orient. A good working desk and its data ports sit unused, ditto the up-to-the-minute TV movies and video games as I continue my watch.

Terra-cotta and cream-colored marble makes the bathroom gorgeous. A large European soaking tub, separate shower and good lighting make it functional. I love the delicate orchids, big milled soaps and lush towels and am secretly relieved the scale doesn’t work. Someday I will splurge for a Mandarin King room where I will while away hours in the tub scanning the horizon beyond it’s picture windows.

Slipping on my MO black-silk slippers, I choose the terrycloth bathrobe over the cotton one and return to my jasmine tea and nectarine (MO’s beau geste to ease my arrival) and begin to plan my stay.

I’m in San Francisco’s financial district and just a short walk or cab ride from the main shopping areas, theaters and museums. Unlike some, this financial district does not close down on weekends. With the concierge’s help, I discover an all-bistro alley (Belden Alley) where I can eat my way through Southern Europe. I settle in Spain for mussels, spicy shrimp and flan saving—France, Italy and Greece for another outing.

The area’s best meal, however, is just down the elevator from my room. Silk’s, the Mandarin Oriental’s own restaurant, is quite special. I fully describe it—well OK, rave about it—in my review.

The place for just a nosh or two is the Mandarin Lounge. Each morning I settle into the plump and tasseled silk pillows of a banquette. Then I sip my coffee and scan the paper as I nibble my way through the breakfast buffet—a few ripe strawberries, a buttery croissant and a taste of pungent yogurt. Throughout the day, Bistro food such as Mandarin Chicken Salad and Beef Tenderloin with Portobello Mushroom Sandwich is available. Afternoon tea? But of course, and with a Mandarin twist: a bento box of canapés such as Thai Curried Beef and Shiitake Triangles accompanies teas like Earl Gold and Chrysanthemint.

The Mandarin Lounge is on the first floor just off the three-marble lobby. A dramatic wood carving of Guan Yin, the Chinese Goddess of Mercy, presides. The Lounge is full of nooks and crannies so numerous small groups or individuals can gather here without intruding upon each other. The décor sets silk and velvets against leathers in comfortable chairs and loveseats. A wood and brass bar delivers drinks, a pianist makes music and a small orchid-covered kiosk sells sundries.

Musing, however, is best done on the MO’s skywalk, a corridor of floor-to-ceiling windows that is the passageway from the elevator to my 41st floor room. Each passing finds me gazing out at the city with my imagination flying. Were Mandarins wise and noble or avaricious and vicious?…How did they live?…Would an earthquake throw me to the floor where desperately grasping the carpet I slide inevitably towards the widening crack in the glass?

Ever ready to serve, the MO provides a small, but sharp 3+ quake that very night. I don’t even wake up. The building sways with, rather than shakes and breaks in a quake—how very oriental of it! I discover these high ranking Chinese Empire officials gave modern China its national dialect, but the concierge is fresh out of Mandarins for me to meet. I do, however, glimpse their lifestyle: it’s like living at The Mandarin Oriental—without the data ports, of course.

Kate Crawford         April 2001

LINKS WITH ATTITUDE

Here is the Mandarin Oriental's web site where find out about their Summer Choices special rates and make a reservation. 

I like Zagat's for finding restaurants and SFStation for theater and  goings-on around town.