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By J.Ho, December 7, 2008 6:04 pm

Part One … San Francisco is by far the favorite of the vastly geographically separated trinity of metropolitan areas I call home. Last September I left the wicked awesome confines of Boston to embark on a business trip to the City by the Bay. This business trip turned out to be all pleasure.

So my plane lands on an early Saturday afternoon. I was to stay with the JilliBean at her crash pad on Sutter & Jones for a few days and then check into the Grand Hyatt for the remainder of my stay. My post-sortie ingress plan was to take the BART from the airport into downtown San Francisco, meet up with the JilliBean, drop my gear off at her pad and cruise the city. I’m never one for plans anyway.

I get off the BART at the Powell station and the first things I notice are how many more bums were around than usual and the awesome weather. I mean awesome weather. You know, the perfect kind that only San Francisco can provide. The kind of weather that has something for everyone. Warm, sunny and a slight breeze mixed in with extreme cold, wind and gloomy fog. A paradox like no other.

So I step over my quota of bums and call the JilliBean. No answer. I call again. No answer. I call one last time. Beat. Luckily, I had accounted for this contingency in my ingress plan. So I’m on my own in downtown San Francisco for a while, where do I go to kill some time? The Gold Dust Lounge, that’s where!

Where else would you go if you were a busted ass kid like me wandering around the shopping mecca/tourist trap that is Union Square? A bar! Not really a bar, more of a saloon. Near the southwest corner of Geary & Powell, the Gold Dust Lounge is a throwback to the old San Francisco days which existed way before I was probably born. High-back chairs and benches accented with gaudy red velvet padding and model airplane paint gold trim. Totally worn out wood paneling, old smoky mirrors, wicked tarnished brass lamps and cherubs painted (or probably wallpapered) on the ceiling. The second you walk in you’ll notice the smell. It’s a kind of like stale beer, ass, piss and a hint of vomit smell. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Pssssst … it’s the smell that keeps the tourists out.

If you’re lucky, you can score the table immediately to the left when you walk through the entrance. It’s a small round table that juts out a bit towards the sidewalk behind a semi-circular window with small red velvet padded brass stools. There is no better spot in the city for people-watching while sipping your suds in peace. I walk in and my table was taken. Beat! So I waddle up to the bar with my extremely heavy woodland MARPAT duffel bag, desert MARPAT backpack, Targus laptop bag and Lowepro camera bag. I had that look as if I just traveled 3000 miles and I need a beer! I order a Stella draft with a Wild Turkey on the side. You know, the J.Ho Combo. At last, I’m home.

I score my drinks, sit down and absorb the fact that I’m back in San Francisco wishing it was to stay. I used to sit at the same bar while my former better half and her friends would go shopping in Union Square. I’ve stumbled in and out of cabs while coming and going from this place. I miss it. I never really missed the bathroom though. I give it only one star. I had to go wizzle, so I walk towards the back and hold my breath as I walk in the tiny bathroom. What was the first thing I saw? What was the perfect San Francisco greeting? I had to take a quick picture.

Indeed, I’m home. No town in the world does obscene bathroom wall literature better than San Francisco. Just to the left this shot someone wrote, “Michael Savage for President.” Then someone had crossed out the Michael part and wrote in Dan. This is just a taste of how polarizing the political landscape can be in this fine city. Actually, I believe Michael Savage and Dan Savage are equally irrelevant.

The next fine example of San Francisco bathroom wall literature was one of the most timeliest I’ve ever experienced. See below …

I had to adjust my flash a bit from when I took the first shot. It says, “100 years till the next one! Go home Bostonian! Don’t like home? Women are ugly? Weather is awful? California … priceless!”

Interesting comment. I assumed they were talking about the Red Sox winning another World Series. The funny thing is about six weeks later, the Sox did just that! The rest of the writing is spot on, though. Trust me. I’ve lived both places. Trust me, San Francisco is in no place to say another city has ugly women. We’ll save that topic for another rant.

After several J.Ho Combos and many, many tall tales shared with the bartenders, it was time for me to continue on my travels. I didn’t get to stop by the Gold Dust again during my trip, but the short time to water up and reminisce was all I needed. The two pictures below are a shot of the Gold Dust entrance taken from my hotel room and a picture of the J.Ho Combo.

Check out the Gold Dust if you’re in the area. Live jazz almost every night.

Too be continued …

Yankees suck! Giants too. Both Giants.

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By J.Ho, January 21, 2008 1:10 pm

WICKED GOOD! You know, for $16, I don’t think you’ll find a better bottle of Spanish white. I picked up a bottle of Pazo de Señorans Albariño last week at a random packie. I’ve never heard of this brand before and I rarely turn towards Spanish wineries for a inexpensive white. Live and learn I guess. I’m hooked now. Like big time. And it was only $16.

First off, let me tell you … this wine is clean, fresh and fruity. I’ve been more or a merlot guy lately, but I needed a good strange white. I figured an Albariño would fit the bill. The Albariño variety of wines isn’t all that well known here in the states. Read more about them here.

Light gold-colored, it’s nose displays apple, pear, peach and mineral. It reminded me a lot of an Alsace Riesling. Bone dry, crisp and smooth with superb balance and length. The finish is long with notable citrus flavors. It’s an excellent wine for paring New England style seafood. We had this with some amazing baked haddock.

Wow! Am I becoming a wine snob? Maybe I am or maybe I AM!!! I can’t remember the last time I had such a great bottle of wine for so little scratch! I’m not alone in my appreciation for Pazo de Señorans Albariño. Robert Parker rates it a 92. Which is respectable. Very. Believe me.

Yankees suck!

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By J.Ho, January 8, 2008 2:57 pm

This past Christmas my boss gave me a case of assorted Samuel Adams beer. I graciously took the case and chuckled to him, “Kid, didn’t I tell ya I have a life-long boycott on Sam Adams beeeah?” He says no, so I tell him the story …

I’m cutting a lot of the details out and getting to the point. Remember this, I am completely innocent. I was minding my own business as I always do.

It was January 18th, 2006. I remember the date cause it was the same as an important meeting I had in Boston. It’s still on my calendar. A buddy and I were in some bar on Boylston Street in Boston. I don’t remember the name. All inside the bar and all up and down Boylston Street were people walking around wearing a variety of pastel colored Sam Adams baseball caps. It looked kinda stupid, but most corporate function clothing does. As it turns out it was some sort of Boston Brewing Company (Samuel Adams) corporate night out or something. I talked to a few of them. Some were cool and some were tools. A few of the pastel clad Sam Adams guys were near my friend and I at the bar. I ordered a Newcastle and received plenty of dirty looks from the Sammy crowd. Like I freakin care.

Well, one thing leads to another and the next thing I know a drunk Sam Adams goon is in my face slurring his words and saying he was going to kill me, gouge out my eyeballs, stomp my head in, ect… Kindly, I tell the bully to get out my face and leave me alone as I slowly push him away with my left forearm. All the while I’m sitting there with a mug of beer in my right hand waiting for the best moment to crack his skull open.

He gets in my face again and says I’m crazy to push him off since he’s there with 15 other dudes. I blow him a kiss. Then he says that he and his pink and purple hat wearing crew are going to stomp my ass in. So I softly tell this goon that if he wants some action he better round up his boys.

Now, people, I’m from Las Vegas. Vegas is a town where people know how to handle their business. My Vegas training teaches me that if someone is in your face telling you they and their friends are going to kick your ass, they probably aren’t going to do anything. Cause if they were going to do it, it would have already been done. So I knew this guy was running his mouth.

Nothing happens, as I suspected, and a few guys pull this drunk goon away from me. My friend and I finish our beers and leave. Wanna know who the drunk bastard was who was picking a fight with me and almost had a pound or so of crystal beer mug embedded in his dome? None other than the Chairman of the Boston Brewing Company himself, Mr. Jim Koch. I knew it was him from the commercials he does and you can’t miss his gigantic ugly nose. Yeah, the boss of bosses at that company is walking around drunk off his ass and picking fights with guys on Boylston Street.

Boylston Street isn’t the toughest area of town. But then again, Koch was drunk and rolling with about 200 of his employees. I guess it was a power trip for him. Your typical Boylston Street guy is some lawyer or investment banker. Jim Koch probably thinks he can take guys like that. I wonder if he ever stumbles drunk around Dorchester or Lynn. Try starting a random fight in a bar in those towns and you’ll get stabbed real quick.

Anyhoo, the point is that I have vowed to never, ever give that company another dime of my money. EVER!! Freaking goons acting like that. Well, I finally finished off the variety pack of Sam Adams my boss gave me. It took me forever since I didn’t even want to drink the free beer unless I was out of everything else at home. I’m having second thought regarding my boycott. I mean, that beer is freaking good. It’s a shame. Regular Sam Adams Lager and Sam Adams Light taste like ass, but the Winter Lager and other seasonal beers are awesome.

What do I do? Do I give up? Do I march on? Do I concede that a two year boycott was enough? If I were living back on the west coast this would be a non issue. The boycott would continue indefinitely since out there I can get Gordon Biersch beers. Gordon Biersch blows the doors off anything the Sam Adams crew could ever come up with.

Yankees suck!

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By J.Ho, March 10, 2006 12:33 pm

The famous Mr. Boston’s Bartender & Party Guide has nothing on this little app! Talking Panda’s iBar is a database for your iPod that serves up over 1,000 cocktail recipes (some with audio instructions), proper garnishing, liquor lore, mixing maneuvers and bar lingo definitions. It even teaches you how to say “Cheers!” in multiple languages. There’s no better way to combine drinks and tunes. – $29.95

Available at select Apple stores or online at Talking Panda

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By J.Ho, March 8, 2006 11:39 am

The perfect cold autumn cocktail!

2 ounces brandy
½ ounce dark crème de cacao
½ ounce heavy cream
Ground nutmeg

Pour brandy, crème de cacao, and heavy cream into a mixing glass with ice and shake vigorously.  Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and sprinkle nutmeg over top.

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By J.Ho, March 8, 2006 9:57 am

Feelin’ blue? This should help!

1 oz Vodka
1 oz Blue Curacao
1 oz Sour Mix

Shake well with ice and strain in a double martini glass, garnish with a lemon twist.

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By J.Ho, March 8, 2006 9:08 am

Next time you’re in a bar, go up to the bartender and say, “Can I get a WOO WOO !!!” (some of you will get that, some of you won’t)

1 oz. peach schnapps
1 oz. vodka
Splash of cranberry juice

Shake with ice & strain into a chilled cocktail glass or serve on the rocks in a highball glass.