On a chilly Monday afternoon, chef Sean Quan fills an electric kettle for tea behind the counter of Bazaar Sonoma, aka BaSo, the rural Forestville restaurant he co-owns with his wife, Jenny Phan.
It’s the couple’s only day off from running their increasingly busy operation, and as Quan waits for the water to boil, he walks around the space, grabbing sturdy teacups, pouring sunflower seeds into a dish, and filling the pot with roasted corn kernels, which make a surprisingly delicious brew. Last week’s menu sits nearby, with most of the dim sum dishes crossed out, signifying they were sold out. Bags of roasted chicken wing and crayfish-flavored Lays potato chips dangle temptingly from a hook above the cash register.
“Asians have a great snack game,” says Quan.
For the past three years, the couple, who moved to Sonoma County from Chicago for Quan to take a position at SingleThread, have created a series of adventurous (and often very secretive) pop-up dinners: fried chicken, through their late-night Second Staff restaurant takeovers; dim sum, with the high-low concept FNCY + PNTS; and traditional Chinese cuisine “with untraditional values” at The Matriarch.

Now, just a few months after taking over the perfectly imperfect space that’s been home to a nostalgic lineup of restaurants, including Backyard and Brew, Quan and Phan have embraced an unapologetic and ambitious menu of regional Chinese cuisine based heavily on Sichuan recipes. Creating their own restaurant on their terms is the goal, says Quan. “BaSo needs to be exciting and show that it’s different. There’s power in being the underdog.”
Not in their kitchen
Quan and Phan met in law school in Chicago before they both were absorbed into the world of high-end restaurants — Quan in the kitchen and Phan working front of house (and in the kitchen as needed). At Chicago’s Alinea, considered one of the best restaurants in the world, Quan’s first chef mentor was a tough but wise “Mr. Miyagi” type who guided him through the nearly unendurable quest for perfection.
Later, Quan took a position at a restaurant populated with fine dining “refugees” battered by abusive chefs, then was on the opening staff of a celebrity-fronted Los Angeles restaurant overly obsessed with stars. He ultimately became disillusioned with the situation.
“It’s easy to create a place people want to eat, but hard to create a place where people want to work at,” says Quan.
He cringes at the memory of watching a fellow cook kicked to the ground by an executive chef and stepped over. The horror stories are plentiful, especially at high-end restaurants where the pressure for perfection is crushing.
“It can be such an abusive environment,” he says. “I would never let something like that happen in my kitchen.”


In Sonoma, Quan and Phan realized they could create the culture they longed for and explore a variety of concepts. Initially, they wanted to fry chicken for their industry friends who worked long, late hours. They cooked at breweries, cafes closed in the evening, wherever they could find a spot. It was all promoted by word of mouth and Instagram posts.
The pop-ups were purposefully tricky to find, says Quan, and the hours were confusing. “We wanted to see who would actually make it. The Second Staff was for locals, not people who were coming as a ‘bucket list’ thing to do. We wanted a restaurant that punishes you for being a tourist and not a local,” he says.
It’s not exactly exclusivity — more natural selection — and Quan insists there’s a logic to it. Growing the business organically and with community input allows BaSo the ability to adapt and grow. “There’s an opportunity to be playful, irreverent and candid.”
Out of the comfort zone
During the pandemic, Quan and Phan spent time in small, family-run Chinese and Korean restaurants in the suburbs of Los Angeles. Mostly tucked into strip malls, they’re aimed at local communities rather than food tourists.
“They’re not meant to be comfortable or user-friendly, and you’re lucky to taste that food — to be part of it for just one day,” he said. “Going out of your comfort zone is what makes it good.”
And that is also the idea of BaSo.
“We don’t want you to plan your whole day around coming here. It’s not a destination restaurant. I mean, if you do, we’re flattered… But we’re not trying to create some narrative-driven experience,” he explains.
And while BaSo’s menu of blazing-hot mapo tofu and handmade dumplings seems “authentic,” especially when there is a dearth of Chinese food in Sonoma County that hasn’t been Americanized, Quan shies away from the description.
“It’s more about being unapologetic. In China, they don’t make concessions to people’s comfort with the food. There are bones and gristle. You pick it out. That makes the food feel real.” Though you won’t find any gristly bits on his menu, Quan says Bazaar Sonoma is not about making things more palatable for a larger audience. “We respect your palate and your adventurousness,” he explains.

Take the couple’s Zhong dumplings, a popular street snack in Chengdu, a city in central Sichuan province. This classic Sichuanese water dumpling filled with pork is all about the sauce. “It’s what cooks would call a perfect dish — it has everything, but it’s so simple,” said Quan. For the sauce, he mixes three kinds of soy sauce, brown sugar, garlic, a collection of Chinese spices and Bazaar Sonoma’s chili crunch into an unctuous, gravy-like consistency. Poured over the soft dumplings, it is an intoxicatingly sweet, spicy, savory mess that surprises with each bite.
“Every shop makes it a little different, depending on what they put in their chili crunch, spices, meats, but it’s irresistible … once you get it in your brain, you love it,” he says.
The Toyota rule
For Chinese New Year, celebrated in late January, the couple plans to serve a buffet of regional Chinese dishes, possibly on paper plates. Stressing their staff during the holiday just isn’t the point. Quan and Phan call it the Toyota Rule. If you ignore everything else, it’s easy to be perfect — to make a remarkably fast car like a Lamborghini, for example. But long-term sustainability and comfort are more nuanced — like a Toyota, made to last the duration.
Quan and Phan want to be that Toyota.
“What’s important is that you’re at a pace to keep you engaged but not strained,” says Quan. The couple strive to find that balance for their staff and create a safe, creative environment.

The couple and their team continue to innovate. Later this winter, Quan and Phan plan to flesh out a new concept called Ugly Dumpling, where diners can bring frozen dumplings home or send them to the kitchen to be steamed onsite. Ultimately, they hope the restaurant will become a “third space” for the community.
It’s a new-old idea gaining more traction among restaurateurs who want their restaurants to serve more than just a meal. Instead, patrons are encouraged to linger, to stop by for tea or a snack, and to be in a place that isn’t home or work, but acts as a cozy alternative to both.
Sipping the last of his tea, Quan turns on color-changing LED chandeliers that bathe the restaurant in blue, red, purple and back to blue. The dining room glows, as an undulating green mural of west county hillsides and vineyards reflects the light.
“Come back for some tea sometime,” says Quan warmly, as dusk settles over the restaurant.
Standout dishes

Hot and Sour Potato Stir-Fry: Though made with the simplest of ingredients — grated potatoes and carrots, garlic, vinegar, salt and a bit of sugar — this dish is complex in a way that’s hard to explain. Potatoes are quickly wok-fried but left with a bit of crunch, then served cold, like a salad.
Silken Egg and Tomato: Stewed tomatoes sit atop a soft egg custard, like a savory flan. No chewing necessary.
Sizzling Black Cod for Two: Quan pours boiling oil over gently steamed fish and greens, adding intensity to the soy-ginger broth beneath — outstanding.
Toothpick Beef: Small bites of beef encrusted with cumin, fennel, sesame seeds, dried Chinese chiles, roasted brown sugar and a dusting of peanuts, served on tiny skewers for a nutty, slightly sweet, spicy punch.

Mapo Tofu: If spicy is your thing, this roiling pot of silken tofu with broad beans, eggplant and chili is a thrill. Pair with jasmine rice to cool down the heat.
Old Beijing Noodles: Starchy noodles are topped with pork and sweet bean “Bolognese” sauce for an uncomplicated street food dish that bursts with flavor.
Wonton Noodle Soup: Light pork and shrimp dumplings and egg noodles in perfumed broth are a loving tribute to Jenny Phan’s father.
Read dining editor Heather Irwin’s first review of Bazaar Sonoma here.
Bazaar Sonoma Restaurant & Konbini, 6566 Front St., Forestville. 707-614-8056, bazaar-sonoma.com