A recent wave of out-of-town diners have been singing the praises of spots across the city: the risotto and panna cotta at Frascati, the legendary popovers and Dungeness crab salad at Wayfare Tavern, the superb bone marrow at Bouche, and the exceptional soup dumplings at Hon's Wun Tun House in Chinatown (with a side trip to the nearby fortune cookie factory, naturally). Even a last-minute stumble into Fino yielded an off-the-hook asparagus salad and a beautiful gelato presentation. And Brioche? Divine pastries, full stop.

This is what San Francisco does best. The density of culinary talent packed into 49 square miles is staggering, and it's one of the strongest arguments for why this city — despite everything — remains a place people want to visit and spend money.

But here's where the city's political class finds a way to step on the moment. Those same visitors — and plenty of locals — are increasingly furious about the junk fees restaurants tack onto checks. "SF surcharges," "employee wellness fees," "San Francisco mandates" — call them whatever you want. They're stealth price increases that make the dining experience feel dishonest.

As one local put it bluntly: "When I see this fee, I don't go back. That way employees don't get punished with my reduced tip, and I save 7% myself. Win-win situation if you ask me." Another SF resident was even more direct: "I ain't leaving a 20% tip if there's a 7% employee fee."

They're not wrong. The California legislature had a chance to ban this practice and instead preserved it, leaving restaurants in an awkward position and diners feeling nickel-and-dimed. Just put the real price on the menu. This isn't complicated.

San Francisco's restaurants are doing extraordinary work. The policy environment around them? That's a different story. A city with this much culinary firepower shouldn't need an asterisk on every check.