To the naked eye, San Francisco is not as much of a Yucatecan stronghold as Middlefield Road in Redwood City is for Michoacanos, or Fruitvale is for immigrants from Jalisco. Over the past five years, a few Yucatecan restaurants have sprung up near 16th and Mission Streets, and the occasional Tenderloin greasy spoon has mujeres burning chilies for the region’s traditional black mole, marinating pork in naranja agria (sour-orange) juice, and whirring batches of black beans into a creamy purée. But though these restaurants lack the cohesive geography of their brethren in the East and South Bays, the Yucatecan presence behind the scenes in San Francisco is unmistakable. Ever since Oxkutzcab native Tomás Bermejo, who moved to California in the ’50s as part of the bracero program, opened the still busy Tommy’s Mexican in the Outer Richmond in 1965, the connection between Yucatán and San Francisco has been secure. Now there are approximately 15,000 Yuca­tecos in San Francisco (and another 10,000 in San Rafael). Most of them—thanks to their experience in the hospitality industry in the Mayan Riviera of Cancún and Cozumel—work in the city’s top hotels and fine-dining kitchens. With that kind of background, it could be only a matter of time before banana leaves and achiote paste become as common here as chiles rellenos and guacamole.

POC CHUC
Biografía: Carlos and Delmy Ruiz (he’s from Durango, she’s from Yucatán) met while cooking at a La Salsa taquería in the Castro. They married, and now, at Poc Chuc, they’re capital­izing on Delmy’s Yucatecan home cooking and three years behind the stoves at the très Gallic Bistro Clovis.
Atmósfera: Yellow pendant lights hang over the kitchen counter, the color scheme is a sophisticated red and green-gold, and mirrors line the walls. Diners range from intrepid Missionites to just-off-work Yucatecos.
Especialidades: The namesake dish is a mound of pork that’s been marinated in sour-orange juice and spices, then grilled. Washed with charred habanero salsa and eaten with the region’s signature black-bean purée, it’s about as iconic a Yucatecan meal as you can find in the city. But Poc Chuc also has fancier leanings. In honor of Delmy’s time spent cooking in fine-dining kitchens, there’s a lamb stew suffused with red wine, and a seared duck breast scattered over wilted Napa cabbage salad. Both are served with a dollop of creamy mashed potatoes—good luck finding those at any other Yucatecan restaurant. 2886 16th St. (bet. Shotwell st. and S. Van Ness Ave.), S.F., 415-558-1583

COMIDA YUCATAN AND CITY PIZZA
Biografía: Pakistani owner Mohammed Nadeem poached Adelina Cham from an underground restaurant in the Mission. Now, in the heart of the Tenderloin, Cham is turning out precisely the sort of food she prepared in her hometown of Tecax.
Atmósfera: Outside is one of the seediest corners of the ’Loin. Inside this combination pizza shack and Yucatecan diner, the lighting is bright, the walls are painted a cheesy shade of pink, and the service is usually kind and attentive.
Especialidades: Above the counter hangs a menu placard nearly as wide as the room. On its left are the Yucatecan dishes, including just-cooked empanadas and tortas with a choice of carne molido (ground pork), carnitas, cochinita (spiced pork), or pollo. The three types of tamales (oven-baked horneados, thin torteados, and tender colados) are cooked in banana leaves, topped with tomato sauce, and difficult to find elsewhere. Sopa de coditos is a Yucatecan madre’s take on chicken-noodle soup, with macaroni, turkey, avocado, and a flurry of black pepper. Best of all are the daily specials, particularly the Jueves-only entomatado, a homey stew of tomato and pork served with puréed black beans and steaming-hot housemade tortillas. 294 Turk St. (at Leavenworth St.), S.F., 415-931-4200

MI LINDO YUCATAN I
Biografía: After quitting his job as a courier for Bank of Ame­rica and letting go of his ownership of a downtown taquería, Morelos-born Benny Huerta (along with business partner Jorge Gongora) opened one of the city’s first strictly Yucatecan restaurants. Huerta’s chef of seven years, Marinel Y, once sold panuchos on the streets of Oxkutzcab.
Atmósfera: Out front, a collection of Mayan gods—including, appropriately, Ek Chuah (the god of business)—greets diners. Inside, shades of lime and sea green keep the mood light. Faux-lantern sconces flicker above tables painted with images of Mayan deities and commoners at work, and the Virgin of Guadalupe stands guard in back.
Especialidades: The appetizer menu features some of the harder-to-find masa-based Yucatecan antojitos, like chilindrinas, pockets laced with spinach, stuffed with egg and pepitas, and fried; cylindrical polcanes look like pigs in a blanket but are filled with lima beans and steamed. In escabeche de pavo, turkey is rubbed with allspice, two kinds of pepper, and cinnamon, braised, then served with pickled red onions. Perhaps the national bird’s finest moment is in Mi Lindo’s relleno negro. Made with chilies that are toasted until they’re burnt, plus tender white and dark meat swimming in ink-black broth, the dish is so flavorful and so complex, it could reduce a sauce-proud French chef to tears. 401 Valencia St. (at 15th St.), S.F., 415-861-4935

MI LINDO YUCATAN II
Biografía: Husband-and-wife owners Jorge Gongora and Soledad Pacheco are both natives of Oxkutzcab. In 1984, Gongora began cooking at the now defunct Julie’s Supper Club. After 20 years in other people’s kitchens, he got one of his own when he and Benny Huerta opened this Noe Valley branch of Mi Lindo Yucatan in 2004.
Atmósfera: The posh Noe Valley offshoot looks like its Mission progenitor after an appointment with a personal shopper. Fiesta-ware bowls and plates mimic the restaurant’s bright fuchsia-and-blue palette, and a sculpture of a Mayan ruin sits on the counter. This being Noe Valley, count on plenty of strollers.
Especialidades: Yucatán’s breakfast of champions, huevos motuleños—tostadas slathered with whole black beans, then topped with fried eggs and a mix of ham, tomato, and peas—is a menu staple. Fixtures also include such classic dishes as panuchos, puffed-up tortillas filled with black beans and topped with lettuce, avocado, and a choice of chicken, turkey, or pork; and cochinita pibil, a flavorful braise of pork cooked with banana leaves and achiote paste. Pay attention to the specials, as Gongora is unafraid to tweak tradition: His blueberry tamal with chili-infused cream sauce has been known to draw diners back multiple times in a single week. 4042 24th St. (bet. Castro and Noe Sts.), S.F., 415-826-3942