Although we’re way late to the party here, we absolutely must briefly chime in about this one. It was a special request of our very own Rabbi Hedda LaCasa, you see, and how could Yolanda say nay to a request from her Rabbi? How, indeed. So let’s begin our quick run-by touring.
The late, great Robin Williams did some of his best acting work in this very house. This is, of course, the property prominently featured in 1993’s classic Mrs. Doubtfire, one of Yolanda’s favorite films. Though the real estate listing and several publications identified the home’s architecture as Victoria, our Rabbi helpfully pointed out that the place is definitely not Victorian — it is Queen Anne in style. And indeed it is. But even an old lady like Yolanda gets these mixed up sometimes, so it’s all good.
Records and listing information both reveal the tri-level house was originally built in 1893. It has, by the looks of things, been meticulously well maintained.
The seller of the home was one Douglas Ousterhout, M.D., a prominent craniofacial surgeon who is widely considered the top facial feminization surgeon in the United States. To put it, er, bluntly, Dr. Ousterhout has helped many trans women (and men) with their transition to the other gender.
The good Doc — who owned Mrs. Doubtfire’s house for nearly 20 years — was perhaps a bit shaken last year when one of his former patients rather rudely attempted to burn the house down. Yikes! Listen, disgruntled former patient, there are plenty of better ways to get even in a violent way, if you must. Torching Mrs. Doubtfire’s house? So not cool.
Like many properties in San Francisco, the house sits on a steeply-sloped street, right on the corner of Steiner Street and pricey Broadway in the hoity-toity Pacific Heights neighborhood, where many of the city’s most expensive homes are located. The lot is a downright paltry — but typical for tightly-packed SF — 2,378 square feet. That’s barely .05 of an acre, by Yolanda’s calculations.
A red brick staircase leads to an itsy-bitsy covered front porch. The old-timey front door with its leaded glass swings open to what is quite obviously a neutral (and/or staged) interior with gleaming honey-brown wood floors. Yolanda finds the entire interior motif a bit too whitewashed for our liking, but it is clean. It’s the sort of place where we expect the air is tinged with the sweet smell of Glade Clean Linen freshener.
Plantation shutters lend a comfortable touch to the turreted main living and family rooms.
Could that be the same table from the infamous petting zoo birthday?
The kitchen looks to have undergone a welcome renovation since the film, although that range still looks likely to cause hot flashes.
At 3,300 square feet with 4 beds/3.5 baths, the house is spacious but still a manageable size.
Although it’s not nearly as large as those in some of the other mansions we’ve recently featured on this blog, the master suite has city (and fog) views and a soaking tub in the bathroom.
Somehow the .05-acre lot packs in a charming patio outfitted like a micro-tropical-jungle of some sort. And it may seem utterly ridiculous to those of us living in sprawl-central LA, but in SF a car lift like this is sometimes an absolute necessity. Almost looks like these two vehicles are conducting some dirty business, eh? Let’s leave ’em be.
Property records reveal the new owners are a couple named Nick & Janet Bijur. Our Mr. Bijur is a former investment banker and currently toils as a VP at Pacific Gas & Energy Corporation. Of note, Mr. Bijur happens to be the grandson of the late Hollywood producer Armand Deutsch, who was himself an heir to the Sears fortune through his own grandfather. It’s a good bet that Mr. & Mrs. Bijur are very, very wealthy.
Yolanda and The Rabbi say Mazel Tov to the couple on their historic new home. And we pray the new owners do not experience any arson. Or any run-by fruitings.
Listing agent: Steven Gothelf, Pacific Union International Inc.
Buyer’s agent: Ted Bartlett, Pacific Union International Inc.