Most Recent Update: Apparently, a pretty nasty family feud has caused the closure, Caleb Pershan at the Chronicle reports. But according to owner John Munguia, it should be reopening in a few weeks after some renovations. Fingers crossed. Update: A former employee wrote in saying “a reliable source within the

The Richmond District is a sleepy stretch of San Francisco that’s easy to think of as the edge of the world. It’s cold, windy, foggy, and thanks to our beaches and two major parks, has a quieter than usual feel than other SF neighborhoods. The Richmond is not a traditionally

I’ve got some awesome news! We received a grant from the Civic Joy Fund to put out a literary magazine celebrating SF and acting to counter the stupid “Doom Loop” narrative. It’s a gift to the people of San Francisco. And after months of working on this project it’s now available

The best tiki bar I’ve ever been to is Smith’s Union Bar in Honolulu’s Chinatown. It’s a shitty little tiki dive bar with even shittier karaoke. It’s also the oldest bar on the island. The night I was there it was is was full of Navy dudes, punk chicks, gay guys, and a big hulking, transgendered Pacific Islander.

The first time I went to a Tiki Bar, I didn’t expect to love it, but I did. I loved it A LOT. I tend to like experiences and things that aren’t about taking yourself seriously, that are just about having a good time: this is Tiki Bars in a nutshell. Tiki Bars combine elements of old school kitsch, immersive escapism, and unapologetic tackiness in a way that I just find really mood-lifting (and until people start opening ghost bars in San Francisco, they’re your best bet for an immersive alcoholic experience).

There are hundreds of fake grape clusters hanging from the ceilings, red and white checkered tablecloths, “That’s Amore” playing loudly in the background. Wine is served in huge quantities. Paunchy, beaming waiters slide steaming pizzas in front of their patrons. Gaspare’s, I’ve realized, is pretty much exactly where I would

Okay, so this hilarious title refers to the fact that every time I used to walk by The Nags Head on Geary before 10pm, the only people I could see inside (and it’s not a big place, mind you) were REALLY old.  I mean like one-leg-in-the-c0ffin old.  But you know