— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Prior to walking into Mission Hill Saloon for the first time, I didn't even know you could buy The Binge Drinker's Light Beer in the Mission. And at two bucks a can, it's certainly more expensive than I remember. But if you have a thirst for the swill you drank behind the 7/11 dumpster when you were 15, MHS has you covered.
(Oh, and their bathroom works of art are mightly nice too)
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Michael Bay and his spectacular car chase special effects are bullshit; not a single fiery hot dog flew through the air.
Seriously, the scene was so pathetic that a cop turned on his lights, stopped, and couldn't even be bothered to get out of his car before driving off.
Myth busted.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Soul Groove has been selling their famed chicken and waffle sandos for the last few months in various neighborhood pop-ups, pumping drunk Mission Street insomniacs with the calories their bellies crave. Over the summer they were at The Corner, but then that pop-up venue went bust. Then they moved into Duc Loi deli counter, but who really wants limit their Chicken and Waffle intake to the daylight hours? Well, thankfully, they're now dishing out fried chicken stuffed between two buttery waffles right out of Boogaloo's back window.
It's only six bucks, they're open realllll late (I took this photo around 1:30 and it seemed as though they had only just started packing up), and they even have a vegan version for the health conscious chicken and waffle eaters amongst us. Sadly, the city's boring open container laws will likely prevent you from taking advantage of the Modelo situation, but don't let that prevent you from passing them a water bottle with a wink and a few bucks for the trouble.
[Follow 'em on Twitter to keep apprised of their scheduled Boogaloo's appearances]
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Against my better judgement, I went to Valencia's bougie taco and margarita upstart Tacolicious/Mosto the other night. Mistake!
My friends and I arrived at 7pm and were informed it would be about a 35 to 45 minute wait for a table, which seemed a little high for a slow weekday night. But they have a bar/holding cell attached to the restaurant, so we figured we'd guzzle some drinks and stand out like a group of broke hipsters in a room full of beautiful people in sports coats.
The initial conversation at the bar went something like this:
“How much for a house margarita?”
“Eleven bucks.”
”Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh do you have something for a guy who clearly can't afford a haircut?”
“Tecates are three.”
“Sick brah.”
Then a Tecate in a wine glass was put in front of my face. Took one sip. It was skunked.
Now, I think I've only had Tecate from anything besides an aluminum can once, so I assumed that was how cheap beer in a wine glass was supposed to taste. But it was awful. I could feel the muscles in my face wrenching with every sip. So after conferring on the taste of this atrocity in a glass with my Mission compatriots, I did the unthinkable: I sent the drink back to the bar.
The bartender was apologetic and poured a new Tecate in a pint glass, and the manager even came over to make make reparations in the form of a complimentary margarita. The margarita sure was tasty, but the new Tecate was just as shitty as the first one. But not being one for spit in my food, I foraged for a handful of limes at the bar and drank it anyway.
Now, after a couple more drinks, we realized it was already eight fucking thirty. For those of you who aren't good at math, that means our 35 to 45 minute wait had been crawling along for 90 minutes. As we were heading out the door to go to Cancun to drink fresh Budweiser and eat tacos like normal people, the hostess grabbed us and let us know our table was ready.
I won't bore you with the details of my admittedly tasty food, but let it suffice to say that I paid $13 for two tacos and complimentary chips and salsa.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
I'm not really sure why you'd want to eat a burrito like a salad in the first place, but if you are so inclined, Taqueria Cancún's 6th and Market outpost has just the thing for you: The Wetback Burrito. It's just like the wet burrito you're accustomed too, only sprinkled with language rarely used outside of Texas.
So, how are the well-to-do Caucasian clientele supposed to order such a thing without getting a black eye? DIVE Food (a blog that sadly no longer sees updates) gives us a peak into what ordering a wetback in 2006 looked like:
Something about asking for a “wetback burrito” from a taqueria worker who may or may not have once dipped his gams in the Rio Bravo del Norte is a little unsettling, especially to a fragile, politically-correct gabacho like myself.
For a second, I thought about ordering the “er, uh, the you know, ahem, w-e-t back burrito”, but I just bucked up and said what I wanted, wetback and all. At that point, the guy behind the counter, apparently not amused with my reluctance, gave me a look so cold it could freeze blood.
I know he was thinking “Oh yeah? A wetback huh? Let's see who's a wetback after I bitch-slap your punk ass.”I just know it. [link]
Ouch.
Is this thing just a joke put on the menu so the cashier can watch customers stammer and squirm as white guilt takes over? Perhaps just a way to see if people are shitty enough to actually order something with “wetback” in its name?
No matter what the reason, don't hesitate while ordering, unless you want your punk ass bitch-slapped.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
The Pickleback, as seen in its native habitat at the Bushwick Country Club.
You've heard of picklebacks, right? A shot of whiskey immediately followed by a shot of pickle juice. It sounds nasty. Oh so nasty. Hell, some people can barely keep their faces from contorting into an unsightly mess after the pairing:
But it's really not that bad. Wikipedia claims “the pickle brine works to neutralize both the taste of the whiskey and the burn of the alcohol.” Which, sure, sounds possible. But as someone who thoroughly enjoys the taste of pickles and puts up with the taste of well whiskey, I can assure you the combo just works.
What's the point of all this, you ask? Well, Broke-Ass Stuart, whose been tending bar at 16th and Harrison newcomer Dear Mom, is bringing the pickleback to the Mission this and every Wednesday night:
I'm bringing an East Coast classic to the Mission: The Pickle Back! It's a shot of whiskey with a shot of pickle juice as a chaser. I'm doing it with Dickle Whiskey, so it's gonna be Dickel and a pickle back for $4. Plus the best part is that it's gourmet pickle juice: I'm getting my pickle juice from the guys who do the Wise Sons food truck and will be soon doing the Wise Sons deli on 24th St.
Do yourself a favor and give this a try. Just, please, never wear this hat while slamming them back.
[First photo by Muppitz, Second by Trecarious]
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Details on what is to come are still a bit sketchy, but according to SFist, 20th Street's Force of Habit Records (which hasn't been seen open by this blogger in quite some time) is set to formerly close up shop and become some sort of restaurant/cafe joint called “20 Spot”:
Another small, independent record shop bites the dust. Force of Habit, the little punk shop at 3565 20th Street (at Lexington) appears to be on its way to closing as SFist finds that a new restaurant/café wants to move in called 20 Spot. Force of Habit owner “Braindead” Dave Devereaux died last July at the age of 41 of unexplained causes. At the time, his family said they hoped to sell the shop and the online record business to someone who would keep it open, and a Save Force of Habit campaign launched to aid the effort. But it seems that was not meant to be.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Hater Tuesday brings word of 911wasaninsidejob.org's campaign to bring a doughnut shop to the Lower Haight. And what a worthwhile campaign it is: the 'hood has most of the major food groups people care about covered (pizza, ice cream, sausage, sandos, beer), but when it comes to fried pastries that you can dunk in your Irish coffee, you're shit outta luck.
9/11 Was An Inside Job's Google Map of area doughnut spots really nails the point home.
Of course, if this campaign will ultimately be successfully is anyone's guess, but I think we can all agree that it's refreshing to see our city's Ron Paul fanboys moving onto more important issues.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
The old Valencia St. KFC location (which, I guess was also this place called “Spork” for a few years) has a nice new all-black finish and, as of tonight, is host to a brand-new pop-up rice bowl spot. Inside Scoop reports:
Starting tonight, Spork partner Neil Jorgensen will reopen the restaurant space as a short-term concept named Rice Broker.
The crux of the menu will be rice bowls, and it will just be Jorgensen cooking with a few other staffers. He’s redone the interior and given it a new look, too.
“I’ve always loved Asian ingredients, so I’m doing this as an inexpensive fun experiment,” says Jorgensen, who adds he’s looking forward to get back in the kitchen. Even though he’s been running front-of-house operations in recent years at Spork and Thermidor, he once cooked at places like Manresa, Range and Bar Tartine.
That sounds nice and all, but the real selling point is that they have eight (eight!) asian beers on tap. And their menu, which you can read in full at Inside Scoop, is mostly around ten bucks.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Great, one less thing we get to tell our LA friends is better about SF.
(Also, hats off to Phil for liking just about EVERY SINGLE ONE of the 276 comments)