The joys of Swan Oyster Depot Locals and tourists flock to stand in line at San Francisco’s most famous seafood counter. It’s still worth the wait. Here’s why.

The joys of Swan Oyster Depot Locals and tourists flock to stand in line at San Francisco’s most famous seafood counter. It’s still worth the wait. Here’s why.

By the hour mark on my first visit to Swan Oyster Depot, not long after the Polk Street institution became a finalist for a James Beard Foundation Award for Outstanding Service, my knees started to ache as I stood in line outside, waiting for one of the 18 seats at the counter. The dopamine rush from refreshing my Twitter feed had since lost its potency. Bright scraps of sidewalk trash that had attracted my eye were familiar as friends at that point. But for the whole hour and thirty-eight minutes I stood there, I kept dreaming: about luscious yellow crab tomalley on sourdough; plump jumbo prawns dipped in tangy and rich Louie sauce; and the taste of oysters, like tripping into an ocean wave and gulping a mouthful of seawater. Unlike so many other things we wait in line for, the Swan Oyster Depot experience is worth the inconvenience — and I’d do it all again, happily.

In line, conversations tend to shuffle toward the fact of being in line. “How long have we been waiting?” “Should we stick it out?” Then there’s the futility of discussing your order when you have a sinking feeling that there is still quite a long way to go until you actually get to look at the menu. When some peel off in search of oysters elsewhere, the ones left behind exhale and shuffle up, one foot closer to our goal. Eventful interludes, like a man yelling profanities at the queue, are received like shot glasses of water in a desert, refreshing the discourse for a blessed 10 minutes or so. (In Tokyo, where queuing up for food seems like a hobby for many locals, the lines don’t involve half as much chatter.)

Steve Sancimino, left, and Kevin Sancimino work behind the counter at Swan Oyster Depot in San Francisco, Calif. on Tuesday, April 2, 2019. Steve Sancimino, left, and Kevin Sancimino work behind the counter at Swan Oyster Depot in San Francisco, Calif. on Tuesday, April 2, 2019. Photo: Stephen Lam, Special To The Chronicle Photo: Stephen Lam, Special To The Chronicle Image 1 of / 8 Caption Close An ode to San Francisco’s famous Swan Oyster Depot, where the service makes it worth the wait 1 / 8 Back to Gallery

So what makes Swan Oyster Depot worth it all? At the end of the line is a vision of the San Francisco that was: a celebration of local seafood married with blue-collar graciousness that lays on you like a warm face towel after a day in the salt mines. We queue up for hours (and pay a hefty price — in cash!) to catch a glimpse of something that defies the fashions of the day, a time capsule that allays our fears of how quickly the city is changing. The generously portioned menu of fresh seafood is executed with care and the kind of finesse one should expect from specialists who have found their lane and memorized every inch of it.

“What can I get you, darling?” When you finally grab a stool at the white marble counter, you’re greeted by one of the gang of super-butch dudes in white aprons and T-shirts who take orders, crack crabs and lay slices of smoked salmon on bread gently, as one would a blanket on a sleeping infant. I ordered the combination salad ($25.50): boiled bay shrimp, jumbo prawns and Dungeness crabmeat heaped on shredded iceberg lettuce. The hefty and fat prawns snapped like grilled sausages. I didn’t love the lettuce and mainly found it extraneous to my enjoyment of the rest of the salad, but in theory I can read the statement it makes, this vegetable-in-name-only, in a scene full of tender Little Gems and dazzling radicchios. If you’re not a fan of iceberg, just get the cocktail version, which also comes with briny-sweet clam meat ($15).

Curious about the rest of the menu but strapped on physical cash, I scanned the menu on the wall, covered in illustrations of shellfish and snarky notes about extra charges for “whining,” and asked a server about the crab backs ($6).

In response, he grabbed my sliced sourdough with practiced hands and pulled off a tiny bit of heel. He returned it to me with a glistening mound of yellow gunk on its edge. “Let it rest under the roof of your mouth first, so it warms up.” Like wine, the flavor shifted as the temperature rose, evolving into something akin to salted butter infused with ocean kelp. (Imagine if the bread was soaked in the stuff and broiled with pimentón!)

I ordered the full thing, a Dungeness crab body served upside-down and full of fat and tomalley (the guts, including liver and pancreas), and got halfway through when he told me to throw a few dashes of red wine vinegar inside to turn it into a vinaigrette. I almost wanted to dump my salad into the crab carcass and swirl it around — luckily, the staff keeps a recycled mustard jug full of the stuff already mixed if you want to skip the shell.

Swan is full of secrets like this, the stuff you’ll learn from coming back and enduring that line again: Next time, you can go deeper into the menu and dare to have what the regulars order. Swan’s hidden menu is well-documented and includes delights like the Sicilian sashimi ($20/$30/$40), a raw scallop sashimi called a Dozen Eggs ($20/$30/$40) and the formidable Crabsanthemum ($20/$39), a plateful of flaky Dungeness crab leg meat arranged like a grotesque yet stunning flower. The Dozen Eggs in particular is a beautiful preparation that highlights the creaminess of the sea scallops, sliced against the grain so that they melt under the lightest pressure. A dot of Sriracha sauce on each pale round brings to mind the elegance of nai wong bao, the Chinese steamed custard buns. All of these items can be ordered in various sizes.

Swan Oyster Depot Location: 1517 Polk St., San Francisco Hours: 10:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m. Monday-Saturday, though the counter service winds down at 4:45 p.m. Accessibility: Counter is too high for a wheelchair user and all seats are stools. No steps. Noise level: Low, punctuated by the cracking of crabs. Meal for two, sans drinks: $45-$100 (cash only) What to order: Combination salad with crab vinaigrette, half cracked crab ($22), a Dozen Eggs, clams on the half shell ($14 for six) Plant-based options: You’re out of luck here! Drinks: Beer (Anchor Steam and Stella Artois) and wine. Transportation: Difficult street parking. On 1-California and 19-Polk Muni routes. On the California cable car route. Best practices: Show up at 10 a.m. and, odds are, you’ll be able to get into the first seating at 10:30 a.m. Go alone and bring a book. You can generally order the off-menu dishes in small, medium and large sizes.

These dishes are grand peacocks compared to the homely and just-a-touch-watered-down clam chowder ($2.75 for a cup), which, in any other restaurant, would seem perfectly fine. But here there’s too much competition. Show up enough and you’ll learn that the ultimate scam is to not wait in line at all but to grab a carryout order of the combination salad packed into a hollowed-out sourdough baguette ($25.50).

Still, it’s the hospitality that keeps me coming back. The servers at Swan are patient, with a gentle condescension that makes them seem less like gatekeepers than preschool teachers whose ultimate joy is to teach the uninitiated. They’re confident in their expertise, as they should be, yet they fall over themselves to make sure you’re taken care of.

On one visit, the server taking care of me announced that he’d be going on a lunch break; shortly after, two other servers swung by to repeat that fact and let me know that they’d be happy to assist with anything I needed. Simply just watching them work and shift between each other in that cramped space is a mesmerizing snapshot of how a well-tuned and healthy kitchen can seem like an organism unto itself. One would almost think that they breathe in unison as well.

The vibe in the restaurant is such an abrupt change from the feeling of waiting in line on the sidewalk as you wonder if you’re a fool for doing it. But don’t let your resolve flag: Swan Oyster Depot remains a joy to inhabit, time after time.

Soleil Ho is The San Francisco Chronicle restaurant critic. Email: soleil.ho@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @hooleil