Two Ladies on the Loose in San Francisco: Part 1

In pursuit of jazz

View from the Top of the Mark

September 2019 (4 min read)

At the Top of the Mark bar in San Francisco, a chip is not a chip, it’s a crisp, the kind you get in a packet. We were salivating at the thought of the hot fat variety with the truffle dip, but so be it, the panorama is what matters in this stalwart of the San Fran cocktail scene since 1939. If the bar itself is a little shabby, the city spreadeagled below is an elegant mix of architecture, old and new, high and low, round and square. An Art Deco high rise with silvery fan-shaped windows glitters in the late afternoon sun. Shrouded in fog to the south, the Golden Gate Bridge looks mystical, but that could be because we’ve just landed from Sydney. We have 48 hours in this city and there’s no time to waste.

We pass on another generous pour of the peachy Sonoma Cutrer chardonnay and bolt. A short walk down Nob Hill, in the dimly lit confines of The Big 4, we perch on dark-green leather bar stools and gaze at Eric the barman. He has the startled look of a Tawny Frogmouth and, though stern at first, soon responds to my companion. That’s because she’s a Qantas flight attendant non-pareil, aka, Linda the Loquacious, or LL. While Eric sets us up with glasses of the lush Napa Valley Groth Sauvignon Blanc and three cute pork sliders, LL sets to work.

Detail of a window in the Freemason Grand Lodge of California, Nob Hill

Turns out Eric trained as a lawyer but actually working as one made him unhappy so now he’s a full-time barman in the very joint his parents used to bring him as a kid. His family are 5th generation San Franciscans and this is their beat. They were around in the time of the Big 4, a quartet of early tycoons who dominated business this side of the Pacific coast in the late eighteenth century, and to whom the whole feel of the cosy bar is dedicated.

Hmm, says Eric, bringing his owlish attention to our enquiry, if you want to listen to jazz, try the Comstock Saloon in North Beach, or Mr Tipples Recording Studio. The best club is the Black Cat, but you gotta go in an Uber and out again. That’s down in the Tenderloin and it’s rough. He fixes us a gin martini to share while we ponder our options. It’s time for Liholiho, says LL, sliding off the stool. We farewell Eric and head further downhill towards Sutter, and are soon pushing our way through the hip crowd angling for a seat at the Liholiho Yacht Club.

The thing to love about American eateries and bars is their countertops. We squeeze into a space right on the corner and, hey presto, are handed menus and water glasses. The guy in the red-checked shirt next to us is Mike, a dentist from Denver, in town for a convention. Whoa, there are 4,000 dentists on the razz. With his lopsided grin and mop of dark hair, Mike has a charm about him that turns on when I say that I lived in San Francisco 30 odd years ago. “You were 22, huh, not so long ago then”. Give me a Mummy hug says LL, in a nod to the blaring age gap. We order glasses of Irene, a Chablis-style Sonoma Coast Chardonnay, along with share plates. The innovative food at Liholiho is the reason it’s packed every night. That and the vibe. We are well in to our stride by now. This is one fabulous city.

Tuna poke, sesame oil, radish & nori cracker, Liholiho

We totter out the door on our way to the Black Cat, and realise there are very few cabs in San Francisco. Uber is king here, so if you’re not set up for data roaming there’s nothing for it but to walk. It’s only 7 or so blocks West and 5 South. That’s the other thing to love about compact inner-city San Fran: the street grid makes it so easy to get around.

The Tenderloin has always been the grimy end of town and the streets here are full of the homeless, sadly like much of San Fran. But no one takes any notice of two middle-aged ladies in full throttle at midnight. We pass a stationary police car and LL leans in to check on our destination. The amused Latino policemen point us on down the street. We’re nearly there.

But alas the door of the Black Cat is locked. We’re too late. The big bloke out front, an African-American security guard, rouses the management: these ladies are from Australia, man, let them in. It’s a basement cabaret supper bar with booths and tiny cocktail tables facing a small stage and things are wrapping up. The Benny Benack quartet from NYC do a couple more bebop trad jazz numbers and we feel the magic is just for us, as the place has almost emptied out.

LL starts chatting to the manager and we depart on the best of terms, promising to return tomorrow night while knowing this is unlikely. There are too many other gin joints to visit. Out on Eddy St, the drugged up and the drunk are settling down for the night. We trot North in the dusky light of the street lamps. It’s finally time to lay down our own heads: we have another 39 hours left in San Fran. I can’t wait for the morrow to see the city Dylan Thomas thought “incredibly beautiful, all hills and bridges and blinding blue sky”.

EXTRA

The Bars: Top of the Mark is in the Intercontinental on Nob Hill. Go for the cheese plate over the “chips” with truffle dip. https://www.topofthemark.com Reservations are taken only for brunch or for “romance packages”. Rooms at the Intercontinental start at US$209. Sonoma Cutrer make some lovely wines; visit them at https://www.sonomacutrer.com

The Big 4 is on the ground floor of the Scarlet Huntington Hotel on Nob Hill. The hotel has a heated swimming pool and spa on the top floor and rooms start at US$325 per night. We ate at the bar but if you wanted dinner, the Belle Epoque restaurant looks good.  http://www.big4restaurant.com Visit the Groth vineyard at http://www.grothwines.com

The Liholiho is a gem of a restaurant. Without a reservation, it’s best to walk in after 9pm, like we did, or before 5pm.
https://liholihoyachtclub.com The wines on http://www.irene.wine had all sold out when I checked, so try them at Liholiho instead. 

Check out the jazz line up at the Black Cat at https://www.blackcatsf.com
It’s a supper club so try out the meals there too. 

READ

Amateur jazz lovers might like to browse The Complete Quincy Jones which includes all sorts of memorabilia from Quincy’s extraordinary life “the most successful Renaissance man in the history of American popular music”.