Not the last year of the crazy run...

San Francisco used to be a fun town; SFist.com is absolutely right. Then everyone who used to have fun got older, grumpier, and less enchanted with roving groups of drunk glitter-clad disco queens (or leopard-printed kitty cats, or beer pong cups made from red garbage cans, or folks who are just wholesomely and delightfully naked), and decided to take on a personal mission to put an end to all the festivities. In response, I'm going to take on a personal mission of my own to support all such activities and not bitch when my cokehead neighbors blast disco music at 8 in the morning on a Sunday... because it's the Sunday, and they're entitled.

There is no actual candy at CandyBar, bummer.

I keep putting off my "review" of CandyBar SF in hopes that it'll take the negative cues it's getting from eye-rolling neighbors and patrons alike and leave. Then I wouldn't have to write something negative, which I really don't enjoy doing about a fledgeling business, especially of the around-the-corner nature. But I can't help it. I admit I had some strong preconceived notions about what a dessert lounge would be like in my down-to-earth haven where everyone mellows out once the lights dim in our local haunts, but I really tried to put those aside and enjoy the menu. And you know what? That's not easy to do in this place. As soon as my party and I sat down, a manager told us the kitchen was closing (it was 11:20!) and that we'd have a limited amount of time to drink our $8 beers, followed by an embittered rant about how the permitting process for our neighborhood is so difficult and that CandyBar could only obtain one that lets them stay open until midnight on weekends.

According to their business statement, they aim to be an "after dinner dessert lounge" where folks who aren't satisfied with the limited sweets menus at NOPA, RNM, and Solstice could come after their meal and relax with a night cap. This is a great concept that I would have absolutely welcomed to the 'hood for those nights when you just want to relax with a small circle of friends for a thinktank vs. graduate blog discussion (I am on the grad. blog side, fyi). I envision: comfortable chairs, dim lighting that's easy on the eyes, unusual desserts, and creative cocktails made with soju and sake since they are allowed under a beer/wine license.

Instead you get a cranky crew working under glaring 200-watt lighting, constantly having to apologize for its booze selection and hours; stiff blocky chairs; ultra-industrial decor that reminds me of a pricey bathroom showroom; food you can find anywhere else (Chowhound sites "conflicting elements" when it comes to taste); and subsequentally, you and your friends leaving with an agreed "Let's go get a real drink somewhere."

So go ahead and stay at NOPA, RNM or Solstice for dessert. Nothing about this place is really worth it.

Neighborhood stuff...

Ever since I wrote about Minibar, a barbershop-turned-another-bar on Divisadero (a very appropriate parallel to how the street's changed over the years), I've been on the lookout for something that seems like a perfect new hangout. Well, I guess I haven't been looking that hard, since I keep missing its very unassuming storefront-like location. Is it even open?? I want a beer, already.

Meanwhile, Bar Crudo has applied for some kind of a license. I'm assuming (hoping?) it's to sell booze, but it may be something building-related. Will they let neighbors dine in sweat pants? I hope so.

Taking the place of the corner-staple Bars & Stools, which kindly let neighbors park in its driveways after business hours, is Plant-It Earth, a hydroponic/organic gardening supply company. Sadly, I have a feeling that something with "organic" in its name is going to be less forgiving about our parking shenanigans.

Candy Bar SF ???

On my way to the faraway land of non-metered parking in the Western Addition this morning, I passed a glowing new venue being refitted for - wait for it - yet another beer/wine only bar in the neighborhood (there are two more within a half a block), whose claim to fame is going to be sweet foods. It's a wine and dessert bar with a ridiculously Marina name to match: CandyBar SF. How quippy and adorably Chestnut Street. I'm all for new businesses filling up the empty store fronts in my neighborhood, but I'm really hoping this doesn't attract the Alembic kinda crowd that now overflows into my favorite little low-key Upper Haight bar, ruining it with massive amounts of pretense and douchebaggery.

(edit): In other gastronomically adventurous news, I can't believe I didn't catch this earlier when scanning the EaterSF site, but pricey yet tasty Bar Crudo is opening a brand new location way too close to home, my home that is.

Also coming soon: Minibar (a former barbershop space converted to probably another beer/wine only location) & live jazz cafe On the Corner (I saw the owners exiting after a walk-through this weekend and they say they're expecting to open in a week, but didn't mention the live jazz).

In other news, I've been busy winning Pig & Whistle trivia with my college buddies a eating up the crazy insightful awesomeness that is my favorite COIN blog, which everyone should put on their blog roll immediately. You can not read this stuff anywhere else, ladies and gentlemen. Okay, maybe you can, but the trio that writes for AM does it with so much finesse.

P.S. I ate 30 oysters today and it felt great. Props to human beings for being able to consume entire colonies of other organisms. 5 dozen fresh raw sweetwaters split between 3 hungry friends disappeared like there was a black hole at our table, followed shortly by Manila clams in a wheat beer broth and a grilled cheese sandwich that's still making my mouth water... in short, if you haven't been to Hog Island, you should go.

Divisadero is the new black.

Last night the Progressives joined mayoral candidate Quintin for a some inspirational speeches and a night cap at the very divey Peacock lounge during his victory party. That's right, victory. Over something. I'm, uh, not telling what.
Along with the weakest scotch and soda ever to be made by someone who is not 14, I had a chat with our deep-voiced Supervisor, Ross Mirkadreamy, who told me that a) my street will be repaved soon, so I won't need to be buy that new alarm clock... thanks to 6am construction right outside my windows! and b) that the Divis is the new Mission. I'm also pretty sure he said that the Divis is the cat's pyjamas, but it may have been just what I wanted to hear. Well, anyway, aren't I glad I didn't move to the Mission now? Score 1 for the yuppies, we are ahead of the game. Badass!

photo credit shoutmag @ flickr

Remember the Alamo.

Let's talk about my neighborhood for a minute. Since I want to venture into talking about all things lifestyle and crime related in my 'hood, I think it's only appropriate to describe it, from an insider's point-of-view, first.

My disclaimer here is that I am not an insider insider: I wasn't raised in the Western Addition/Divis/Alamo Square/NOPA neighborhood; I am not a homeowner; I am not raising a family here at the moment; I am not as in touch with the roots of the neighborhood as the majority of the long-term residents are. I am paying rent here, going on 2 years, and slowly taking baby steps towards positively improving my new neighborhood. And when I say baby, I mean infant steps. Witness:

District 5 Porgressive Democratic Club

Earlier this year I participated in the creation of a brand new Democratic Club, aimed at organizing progressive voters in District 5. Though our district has a history of political participation in and outside of the democratic party, I was surprised to learn that it did not have an active Dem club. Why a Dem club? Well, it's a little more efficient than a neighborhood group, if organized right. Additionally, chartered clubs can make recommendations to DCCC, which makes recommendations to the State party. I'd also like to see D5ProgDems pursuing official endorsements as early as next year.

Things I am not surprised by, Part 1.

Plainly put, if I ever want to own a home in my neighborhood (alamo square), I should be prepared to spend upwards of $1 mil. This isn't a surprising figure, but it's a sobering thought. Recently my friend and high school classmate moved back in with her parents because she wants home ownership to be more than just a nice idea and needs to save money, and while I understand this completely, I rather live dreamy-eyed next to these amazing city-view condos now, and hope that a childless, rich old uncle emerges from the trenches and leaves me some much-needed inheritance. This is most likely not going to happen, though, because my mom is the big lender in the family, with no rich uncle in sight so far.

Also disappointing, but also not surprising, it looks like San Francisco will definitely not have a new mayor for the next four years.