Saturday, December 26, 2009
Slept in. Usual oatmeal breakfast. Met Melissa, James, and James at Café Floré. Melissa gave me a ride to Smuggler's Cove where I happened upon Rich T (drinking a bombo) and fiancee Humuhumu (drinking a quarantine), met a few of their friends, then met with Romy, Drew, Phil, Nate, psychobauble, and Patrick. Melissa went to activate a phone at Verizon, but stopped in at Smuggler's Cove for a moment on her way to dinner with another friend. Smuggler's Cove is a new bar that opened on December 8, 2009, in the Hayes Valley neighborhood of San Francisco. Rum is the featured indulgence, and the decor is sumptuous and without the cheese/kitsch factor that could easily have reared its head in the design of such a bar. Inside, it's reminscent of Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean ride but with tiki elements. It's very tastefully done, and even sophisticated in its attention to detail. For such a small bar, we had what I felt was a large group (6 with 2 more expected). We initially felt ignored at the entrance-level bar with seemingly only one bartender, so we checked upstairs where there is seating only (no bar)—2 groups already there, and not enough open seats for us. We ducked downstairs past the giant anchor and waterfall, to find another bar a little larger than the first but also many guests who had arrived before us. Way too loud downstairs, so we went back up. We waited a bit on the entrance level and luckily our order of drinks went in around the same time that a group left the upstairs area. Another few minutes of waiting for either the one bartender (on this level) or seats and we probably would have left frustrated and disappointed. We settled in upstairs, and within a few minutes our drinks began to arrive. Romy and psychobauble each had a mai tai. I had a pupule. Drew and Romy shared a sampler. Phil had an El Presidente. Nate had three dots and a dash. A bit later, a large multipassenger drink called scorpion arrived—a large, low mug in the shape of a skull, the beverage on crushed ice holding a slice of lime and a flaming sugar cube, a spectacle. One partakes of the scorpion via extremely long straws—it's fun and useful, no wasting energy hefting a glass. Patrick arrived and had a hot buttered rum. All seemed to agree the cocktails were excellent. Pricey, but worth it. Must return here another time and order a top notch volcano—that looks like even more fun than the scorpion. Patrick will probably enjoy a chadburn—Private Reserve rum, tawny port, pear liqueur, chocolate mole bitters. Later our group walked to Stelline and enjoyed a delicious Italian dinner. I had a margherita pizza, Patrick had a fusilli dish with sun-dried tomatoes, both recommended.