November, 2008
v1.0
If there is one town that exemplifies the current zeitgeist of the cocktail revival, it is San Francisco. Yes, even more so than New York. This town has a handful of great cocktail bars, and a slew of restaurants that are paying close attention to their cocktail programs. The Snob’s dream of good drinks becoming the norm instead of the exception is closer to being a realty in San Francisco than just about anywhere else. We still have a long way to go, but the bay area is making a good start.
Here are a few places that we visited on a recent expedition out west:
| All right, let me get this part out of the way
right off the bat: I can
do without the whole “speakeasy” thing. I don’t know if the point
is
to keep the riff raff out, or if it is some sort of elitism, or if they
just think it is cute, but I am over it. I love this bar, oh man,
do I
love this bar, but having to make reservations via a web site before
going over there just kills any sort of spontaneity and adds another
layer of complexity to my chrome plated and aerodynamically streamlined
life. As Bob Dobbs would say: “this shit is taking up my slack”. No one takes up my slack, see? But other than that: yay. Really. Yay! This place really gets it. Thirty seconds after I bellied up to the bar, Bourbon and Branch skyrocketed into the top five of the Cocktail Snob’s greatest hits chart. The vibe is dark, warm, woody, and potentially romantic. I like the fresh roses at either end of the bar, the vintage-style tin ceiling, the brick backbar, the velvet wallpaper, the friendly hostesses (particularly the helpful Jessica), the 1930s jazz records playing just loud enough to be audible, and the cloth cocktail napkins (oops, I wrote on one before I realized it wasn’t just paper - sorry!). The main bar area is in the front, and contains cast iron stools and a series of small booths. Up a few stairs are further booths. A reserved-seating balcony overlooks the main bar area. I know I said the speakeasy thing was gimmicky, but I did kinda like how the so-called cigar room (named for its former status as a cigar store; no stogies are consumed these days) is hidden behind a secret door, and the Book Room (a large standing-room space) is also hidden. The Book Room is held aside to corral those without reservations, and is far less interesting a place than the main bar. I was told, firmly, that the place to sit was at the bar, and for this, no arm-twisting was needed: that’s always my preferred spot. The bartender wasn’t initially as warm as the hostesses had been, but after a few minutes we were speaking the same language, and the magic began to happen: Casino Royale was invented by Owen, one of the bartenders. It is a take on the classic Casino and also the classic the Aviation, made with Plymouth sloe gin and orange bitters. Good stuff. I went with a classic next, the Last Word, which was served exactly as expected. Perfect. |
|
The Rudy Boy
was borrowed from Trailer Happiness in London, and consists of Appleton
rum, Campari, Cointreau, lime, grapefruit bitters, and a teeny splash
of soda water, served tall over ice. Refreshing, a great summer
drink, but I could see upgrading the rum selection.Well, the conversation soon turned next to Chartreuse, and VEP in particular. I sorta had to try a VEP Last Word, so I violated one of my cardinal rules and had the same drink twice in a night. A VEP Last Word is... well, I think I cried.
Four drinks in one sitting is a little intense, even for me, so it was time to move on. I’ll be back to work my way through the rest of the menu as soon as I can. Speaking of which, the exhaustive tippler’s tome contains a good balance of classics, variations of classics, new creations, and individual liquors. I was impressed by a whole page devoted to the oh-so-precious Havana Club rum. That stuff is hard to source in the United States.
All of my drinks were $11 each plus tax.
This place is cool.
What I like about it is that - similar to Weegee’s in Chicago - the people who run it apparently realize that they can serve great cocktails in a casual and unpretentious environment. I like good drinks, but I don’t like feeling like I am unwelcome in a bar if the valet didn’t just take my Bentley off to be washed for me, ya’ know? Save the fancy stuff for people sober enough to care.
Of course, you’re not going to find anything too fancy-pants on Haight Street, ground zero for worldwide hippie culture. Alembic is by no means a hippie bar, and it does a nice job of bringing a somewhat less stinky vibe to the Haight without feeling like it is spoiling the neighborhood's uniquely grubby atmosphere. The mood of a bar, like the cocktails and like life, is all about balance.
Gal Friday Night and I were served
by a man named Buffalo, as follows:Vieux Carre (a fine rendition of the classic).
Bee’s Knees (a fine rendition of the classic).
Clover Club (gin, lemon, raspberry syrup and egg white) featuring locally made raspberry syrup; apparently the people who make it will be bottling it for sale soon.
And finally...
A nameless creation featuring Batavia Arraks (as well as lemon, lime, creme de peche, Peychaud’s bitters, and a splash of simple syrup). Buffalo shook it up with a mint sprig in the shaker, and strained the beverage into a glass.
This was his attempt to do something useful with the Arraks, an ingredient that has been popping up all over the place recently, but which most people seem stumped as to what to do with. I have found similarity befuddled bartenders at In Fine Spirits in Chicago and at other places recently too. Someone make a good drink with this stuff, please?
Alembic has a huge whiskey selection, Broker’s is the house gin, and drinks are priced at around $10 (including tax).
Absinthe is a restaurant as well as a bar. The bar half is more or less the opposite of Alembic; the vibe is rather elegant, the prices are higher, and the bartenders had no interest in conversation. I did discover that Absinthe has been open since 1998, but they have really ramped up their cocktail program in the last three to five years. Now that absinthe (the drink) is legal again in the United States, it would be cool to see Absinthe (the bar) begin carrying a nice cross section of all the new North American absinthes to go with their name (and their vaguely belle epoch decor).
As it stands now, I wasn’t too fond
of the slightly stuffy staff or the crowd that seemed like they were
there more to be seen than to enjoy something excellent from behind the
bar. I am not sure I’d be in a hurry to rush back there (as long
as Bourbon and Branch or Alembic remain open), but I did discover some
nice drinks:High Cotton (rye, Pimms, Doubonnet Rouge, peach bitters, mint bitters, with a lemon peel and a mint leaf for a garnish). This one comes off as the southern cousin to a Negroni, with rye replacing gin and Pimms replacing Campari. As the name implies, it conjures up images of Antebellum porches on hot Georgia afternoons. Good stuff.
Real Maria (celery and pepper corn infused tequila, fresh heirloom tomato juice, and peppered sherry gastrique, garnished with a pair of olives). As the High Cotton is to the Negroni, so is the Real Maria to the Bloody Mary. A spicy, tomatoey beverage with a tequila bite. I wasn’t a huge fan of this one, but Bloody Mary fans might find it to be an interesting alternative.
Lawhill (rye, dry vermouth, absinthe, maraschino, Angostura bitters, garnished with a flamed orange peel). Bitter, orangey, and layered. Absinthe reveals itself as the drink progresses. A nice one.
Sacred Heart (La Pinta pomegranate tequila, absinthe, Limoncello, splash of lemon or lime, twist of lemon). Pommy, but also crisp.
Camino is a restaurant that uses only sustainable and more or less locally produced ingredients for their food and drinks. I stopped in with the world famous gadfly known as The Jab for a light meal and some drinks. We had a nice ragu of lamb (basically lamb stew) and some good bread.
Our server was named Carlie, a recent Bay Area transplant from New York. Not only was she super cool, but her boyfriend (sorry fellas!) is opening a new bar in the Bay Area (hooray, fellas!), soon.
But back to Camino’s drinks.
Interestingly, none of their
libations has a name. They rotate the drink menu as ingredients
come in and out of season, and they list their drinks based on the
primary liquor. So, in early October of 2008, choices were: gin,
Armagnac, gin (again), rum, and “pisco-style brandy”.We went for the gin (with spatlese Riesling, peach, hibiscus bitters, and three tiny wine grapes on the stem at the bottom of the glass) the Armagnac (chateau de pellehaut, gum syrup, absinthe, house made bitters, and a fat twist of lemon peel), and the pisco (pisco from the local Marion Farms, lemon, house made vermouth, raspberry, and a bay leaf garnish).
The gin drink was strong if nothing else, but I am never quite convinced by Riesling is a cocktail. No exception here. The Armagnac tipple was a stronger offering (both in quality and in potency), with a carefully achieved balance. The pisco cocktail used the vermouth very subtly, and the raspberry even more so. So it was more like a pisco sour, sans egg, with some vague hints of a few new flavors.
These drinks were all just fine, but nothing spectacular. Prices were $9, $10, and $10 respectively. They’re making the effort, drink wise. The food was limited in scope and a hair pricey but very good, and there was a friendly vibe at Camino.
If you’re too sloshed to make it over the bridge to Bourbon and Branch, or over the other, closer bridge to Forbidden Island, Camino is a good bet.
Or better still, bring your date here for dinner and warm-ups, and then head over to Forbidden Island to seal the deal.
Which brings us to:
| I have done a lot of research on Tiki bars,
and I have written about a
lot of Tiki bars. In fact, I wrote a very well received book on the subject. And then another very well received book on the subject.  If there are two
constants present in the one hundred-plus Tiki
locations that I have visited since 1991, the first is that for the
most part, the majority of them serve shitty drinks, complete
bastardizations of what Donn Beach, Ray Buhen, and Victor Bergeron came
up with in the 1930s to 1950s. Yes, there are exceptions, like
Mai Kai
(Fort Lauderdale, FL) and Tiki Ti (Los Angeles, CA), but not
many. The other constant is that none of the owners of modern Tiki revival bars have the sac to do things right, and stick to their guns. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard an owner lament that the neon beer signs, blaring sports television, and hip-hop jukebox are necessary evils in order to keep their Tiki bar doing brisk enough business to stay open. These things are crowd-pleasers for the locals who don’t ‘get’ the Tiki concept, I am told. I am told this a lot. A lot. Forbidden Island smashes both of these sad preconceptions to smithereens. The drinks are amazing, and the Tiki vibe is completely undiluted. As I write this, the bar is barely two years old, but if there is one single modern day Tiki bar that deserves to celebrate its 50th birthday (as Mai Kai did in 2006 and as Los Angeles’ Bamboo Hut is doing this year), it is Forbidden Island. In both atmosphere and cocktail quality, the level of integrity at Forbidden Island is unsurpassed in any Tiki location having opened in the past twenty years. Next time someone makes a dismissive face and tells you that the tropical drink genre is nothing but artificial grenadine and cheap rum mixed with canned pineapple juice, take them to Forbidden Island, order them a Jet Pilot, and watch them shut the hell up and order another one. Fast. Forbidden Island. Hell yeah. |
|
This bar and restaurant was opened by a former Forbidden Island employee named Melanie. Leaving her Tiki past behind completely, Melanie has created - as the name would imply - a trendy and comfortable Spanish eatery with a well stocked bar in front, and the dining area towards the rear.
Our bartender was the impossibly
adorable Megan, but don’t rush over there too quickly, fellas - Megan
is off to Hawaii to study cosmetology and massage therapy. You
might instead want to visit Caroline, who - according to Megan - is a
Chartreuse rep and is “big into making the classics”. Cocktail Snob and Gal Friday Night only had time for one round, before Megan kicked us out (Alameda closes down really early on Sundays!), so we chose a Velloso and an Acquisition ($9 each plus tax).
Velloso (Cazadores tequila, lemon, lime, Galliano, and fresh egg white) is sweet and frothy, but not too sweet; the Galliano is used sparingly with just enough to keep the citrus balanced.
Acquisition (Buffalo Trace bourbon, yellow Chartreuse, agave nectar, muddled basil and lemon, topped with a small splash of Bundaberg ginger beer, a basil leaf and a lemon wedge), is also a well-balanced drink with all of the ingredients present and accounted for but with nothing overwhelming the drink. Overall, I think just barely ruled in favor of the Velloso, and this is coming from someone who isn’t a huge tequila drinker. This by no means counts the Acquisition out... perhaps we’ll have to go back and try them both again before we form a solid opinion.
...and then we’ll try their Damrock Daisy, Golden Gate Manhattan, and listed classics like Last Word and Negroni...
This is by no means the end of a cocktailians guide to the San Francisco bay area.
Our next visit might include stops
at: Beretta (1199 Valencia at 23rd in San Francisco),
Cantina (580 Sutter at Mason in San Francisco), and
Flora (1900 Telegraph at 19th in Oakland).
In addition to these recommended houses of worship, there are a lot of mid-to-upscale restaurants in San Francisco paying more attention to their cocktails than ever before.
For example, I was randomly walking down Sutter Street one fine day, and happened upon the E&O Trading Company (314 Sutter, (415) 693-0303), a Southeast Asian grill with a very cool decor inside, and (if smells may be trusted) some quite good food (I mean, it smelled really, really good in there!). The bartender told us that E&O has been open for eleven years and used to be a microbrewery. They recently pulled all of the beer equipment out, expanded the restaurant seating space, and started a cocktail program. If the 2010s prove to be as popular for craft cocktails as the 1990s were for microbrews, we are in for good times, friends. Gal Friday Night and I didn’t have time to stay at E&O Trading Co. for either food nor drinks, but their cocktail menu looked fairly decent (not amazing), and we’d give the place a shot some time.
I also liked my glimpse of the Parrish bar in the Palace Hotel (2 New Montgomery Street, (415) 512-1111).
The lounge features an original 1909 Maxfield Parrish mural above the bar, depicting the fable of the Pied Piper.
Didn't try the drinks, but the hotel is beautiful and worth a peek... but that's another slippery slope when discussing San Francisco. There are a lot of great buildings, and many of them are hotels. The Fairmont Hotel, for example, is amazing too, and (let's tie this all together) is home to Tonga Room, an astounding-looking example of the Tiki genre in its prime. Their food, drinks, and service are all miserable. Completely miserable. Wretched. Go for the visual (at happy hour, when you won't be charged a cover, and when their almost-decent appetizer buffet is up).
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