2241 Chestnut ~ (415) 931-8529
4:30pm Saturday 26 January 2008
Prologue: ‘Aye, another Irish pub. This town is riddled with them, apparently. Hell, I just celebrated Martin Luther King, Jr. day in one (not on our list) with Nora Charles (the pre-cocktail hour cocktails actually being her idea — brilliant Irish lass that she is). Well, let’s see how this one compares, shall we? Come and weigh in on whether or not “The Bars That Are Irish Pubs” ought to be a feature The Hostess tracks for you. Just please try not to fall off your bar stool in shock: I’ve switched to Manhattans for duration of this frosty cold spell … (at least until I can find a bartender who knows how to make a Sazerac without asking me what is in one, although it suddenly occurs to me that Michael might be just such a bartender — and he works not that far from Delaney’s — should their own bartenders fail to satisfy this Sazerac Attack by which I have been quite, if inexplicably, seized recently). And speaking of brown-hued drinks, The Hostess has finally come across a “w—pedia” version she can actually endorse. I’m reserving the right to be skeptical as to the site’s authoritativeness, but I applaud their concept. Enjoy!
Ms Olive Says:
January 25, 2008 at 3:31 am edit
- Ugh! I am going to Blackwells to taste wines from the Rhone! Can’t we make it Sunday? Sorry i don’t mean to winnnne but somebody has got to leave some comments.
Unfortunately, no, Ms Olive. The Hostess has to go investigate a new San Francisco live music venue on Sunday with her tragically un-hip, smooth-jazz friends. (Someone has to go along to add some semblance of classiness to this jaunt!) Enjoy your wine-tasting, though, dear. I’ll make sure the Barflies intrepid enough to brave the downpour (& the Marina zip code) on Saturday drink a toast to you…
Afterword: Wow. As a fine fellow named Dave who spends a lot of time at Delaney’s Bar pointed out, it’s a very un-Marina Bar that just happens to be located smack dab in the middle of the Marina. We got ourselves a new Barfly (hi, Malvolio!). There was much merriment and copious drinking. There was free popcorn. And then The Hostess noticed the brass pole inexplicably extending from the floor to the ceiling at a corner opposite the bar. If you weren’t there, you’ll just have to wait to hear exactly what happened next, but if you are among those who have heard the rumor about The Hostess’ days as a certain kind of dancer in Tucson, you can probably guess what ensued …
Bars By The Book 
Thank you that warms the cockels (i did look up the spelling of this word but alas it was not in my ancient dictionary) of my heart! Enjoy you drinks!
Ms Olive,
See cockles of the heart.
If I am willing to sit through “The Bruges” just to lust after those hot Irish boys Colin Farrell and Ralph Fiennes, I can easily handle parking my ass on a barstool before 5pm!
Yes, there was a fair amount of ensuing. And there was free popcorn.
But except for that and a cheerfully obese beagle that was bird-dogging for dropped popcorn (and of course, the charming but temporary presence of the other Barflies), no, Delaney’s struck me as an entirely typical Marina bar and I was not a bit disappointed when we decide to repair en masse to another establishment, the City Tavern, which although tragically bereft of chubby hounds and shiny brass stripper poles, does have a fireplace and more important, food.
Barfly Scotty (apparently a regular at the Tavern, as he was warmly greeted by all and sundry) praised the house hamburgers to the sky, but he was noted to order a small pizza for himself. I of course had filled up on the free popcorn at Delaney’s and so contented myself with liquid refreshment and chatting with the other Barflies.
OK, Malvolio, you’re new here, so I’ll leave your response as is — this time. You should know, however, that comments which are blatantly contradictory in nature (i.e. claiming that a Bar is a particular kind of Bar The Hostess has categorically assured readers that it is not) will generally not be long for this world, so to speak. And really, if you think about it, which one of us is the expert on Bars and drinking, after all? (If we have any questions about your proclivities, we’ll let you know.)
I forgot to mention that Malvolio and Scotty were perfect examples of the chivalrous Barflies, of which the world is woefully in short supply. Thank you Malvolio for escorting me home after the weather turned Seattle-esque, and thank you Scotty for the burgers and drinks after the popcorn would no longer suffice.
Also, I’d like it noted that Nora Charles spent no time on the brass stripper pole. I’d rather lick the entire MUNI fleet down than grind myself against a public, pubic-coated pole in a Marina drinking establishment. Miss Grenadine somehow didn’t mind and looked acrobatic, but let’s just say that I was saving myself for a trip to Kauai.