When Ireland native and second-generation bartender John Lillis decided to open a new watering hole to complement his popular Irish Times sports bar, he invoked the history of Irish immigrants who came to San Francisco by way of Australia. Before it was the Barbary Coast, the area at the base of Telegraph Hill was called “Sydney Town,” in reference to residents who emigrated from Australia in the 1800s.
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This is cocktail heaven — a place where there is no menu, just bliss. At Big, cocktail artisans craft drinks based on your mood; your spirit of choice; or what kind of funky goblet, coupe or crystal you’d like it poured into. It’s part art, part science, part telepathy. And it’s a throwback to the glory days behind the stick. “That’s exactly what we’re doing here: pouring what makes people happy,” said bartender Christian Clark.
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It’s rare that a bar’s drink menu completely reflects one bartender’s obsession, but that’s the case at Mum’s, the bar and restaurant attached to Japantown’s Hotel Tomo. “I’m crazy for hamsters,” says bartender Mana Yasuda. That sentiment is reflected in the cocktails she creates, which have names such as Hamster on the Beach, Mexican Hamster, Hamster Sundae and Gloomy Hamster. This zaniness fits in perfectly with Tomo’s expression of hotel as pop culture art object.
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The Palace Hotel has been in the news lately because of its decision to remove the iconic Maxfield Parish mural “The Pied Piper” from the wall behind the bar that bears the painting’s name. But due to public outcry, the painting — which is valued at several million dollars — will soon return to its traditional place. Long before Parish was commissioned to create “The Pied Piper,” the bar was home to the man who wrote the book on bartending — literally. William T.
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Get cozy in one of the ornate rattan booths, and you might feel like you have journeyed back to a 1930s-era tiki lounge. And while the “Star Wars”-themed pinball machine and flat-screen TVs showing sports and Hong Kong action films serve as reminders of the modern era, one look at the tropical drink menu’s prices will convince you that it’s 1995 — the potent Scorpion Bowl, for instance, serves four and costs just $14. And most of the delightful ice cream and liqueur drinks are just $6.50.
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This Mission district spot has received a lot of attention for The Hideout, the “bar within a bar” nestled in its backroom, but there is plenty of action up front at the main bar, where Douglas Stephens plies his trade. He got his start as a bar back at Vertigo in the Tenderloin roughly 10 years ago. When he’s not behind the bar, Stephens enjoys working on his 1968 Chevy El Camino, which has a Darth Vader bobblehead figure sitting atop the gearshift.
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Gold Dust Lounge: After the lease expired last year after 47 years in Union Square, the Gold Dust brought its red-velvet bar, damask wallpaper and Old West chandeliers to a new location at Fisherman’s Wharf. “There wasn’t a dry eye in the place,” bartender Phil Smith said of the Union Square closing in May. On any given day, you will find waves of tourists sipping $3.50 Irish coffees and Wharf restaurant workers diving in for a few during the Gold Dust’s industry happy hour from 10 p.m.
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Public House As the Giants begin playing at AT&T Park today, if you can’t score tickets then the next best place to watch a game is with the throngs of fans at the Public House in Willie Mays Plaza. The huge, open bar serves 24 kinds of beer, in addition to cocktails, and faces the 24 palm trees surrounding the Say Hey Kid’s statue.
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Head up as high as the elevator will take you and you’ll find a Chinatown cocktail secret, a nearly forgotten antique. The pagoda-hooded bar and lounge — decorated with green stools and carpeting — hosts stunning views of Russian Hill, North Beach and the rooftops on Grant Avenue. If you’re lucky, you’ll score the seats closest to Coit Tower around sunset. Faded pictures of 1980s celebrities on the walls recall the heyday of the restaurant and bar.
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Beauty Bar The interior is filled with furniture and equipment scavenged from a Long Island beauty salon. The walls are adorned with 1950s-era glamour shots illustrating various hairstyles. The enormous hair dryer mounted on a chair near the restrooms, modified with colored lights, looks like it might moonlight as one of H.G. Wells’ Martian war machines. And near the entrance, a sign proclaims “Manicurist on Duty.” It’s not a kitschy gag; you really can get your nails done here.
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