Charles Phan, chef who elevated Vietnamese cuisine with San Francisco’s Slanted Door, dies at 62

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This article was published 22/01/2025 (623 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Charles Phan, the San Francisco chef credited as an innovator for bringing Vietnamese food to fine dining at his Slanted Door restaurant, has died.

The restaurant announced his death from cardiac arrest in an Instagram post on Tuesday, calling it “heartbreaking” and “unexpected.” Phan was 62.

“Charles was more than a chef. He was one of the most generous humans,” the restaurant stated. “Our hearts are heavy with this tremendous loss.”

The James Beard Award-winning restaurateur is known for growing the Slanted Door into a globally recognized fixture with two other Bay Area locations in Napa, San Ramon and one in France. The flagship location — which had been at San Francisco’s Ferry Building but closed in 2020 due to the pandemic — was set to reopen in its original location in the Mission neighborhood this spring. It remains unclear how Phan’s death might impact those plans.

Chefs and others in the culinary world have been paying tribute to Phan on social media. It’s no surprise as Phan always made himself available to dole out advice, said Carolyn Jung, a longtime food and wine writer in the San Francisco Bay Area.

“I think a lot of them feel a debt to him” said Jung, who interviewed Phan multiple times over the past 20 years. “Because he definitely paved the way for a lot of Asian and other minority chefs, showing them there might not be a huge understanding or even outward demand for your cuisine right now. But if you do it right, you do it with passion, you do it with care and respect, you will find an audience and they will embrace it.”

Hunter Lewis, Food & Wine magazine’s editor-in-chief, still remembers the shaking beef he ate at Slanted Door in 2007. It was “one of those touchstone meals” that distinguished Phan as a “pathbreaker” who really broke out from the regional culinary scene.

“We can’t understate the influence of Slanted Door first as a San Francisco institution and as one of the busiest restaurants on the West Coast,” Lewis said.

Now, Vietnamese food and flavors like fish sauce are much more common in the U.S. dining landscape. But, Phan came up at a time when it wasn’t, Lewis added.

“I think we took for granted when Slanted Door became popular that these ingredients were not ubiquitous. He was really instrumental in that.”

Born in Vietnam in 1962, Phan grew up in a home with no refrigerator. So to enjoy a bowl of pho — classic Vietnamese noodle soup — his family would often go to a cafe next door, according to Jung. But Phan, the oldest of six children, also learned to cook from his mother and aunt. His entire family left Vietnam for the U.S. when he was 13, the restaurant said in the Instagram post. Phan ended up picking up Western cooking techniques by watching television.

Phan eventually wanted to open a restaurant in San Francisco but was told there were too many Vietnamese eateries. He ended up finding a space in his own neighborhood in the Mission.

The Slanted Door officially opened its door in 1995. It was seen as a “hot, happening” restaurant that was hard to get into, Jung recalled. He used organic ingredients and higher-end meats like filet mignon — almost unheard of in Asian cuisine in the U.S.

“Up until that time, you had very few Vietnamese restaurants that took it beyond the level of the sort of mom-and-pop hole-in-the-wall,” Jung said. “And here he came with his love of architecture and created this very cool, contemporary space and introduced people to Vietnamese food made with really thoughtful ingredients.”

Phan maintained his culinary prowess while also staying inventive. Phan thought to add a cocktail bar and meal kits for people to duplicate some dishes at home. He garnered several awards over the years including James Beard recognition as “Best Chef: California” and “Outstanding Restaurant in America.” He also authored two cookbooks. He had a reputation for being honest, direct and steadfast about certain standards.

“He told me that even now, diners would say ‘Why don’t you serve this (pho) at dinner time?’” said Jung, who last spoke with him in August. “He said ‘No, that’s like ordering French toast at night.’”

The restaurant urged people to keep Phan’s spirit alive by simply sharing a meal “family style.” The staff has made no mention of services and asked for privacy.