The type of person you’d like to be on a date with:
Hungry for pork belly. Admires 1940s gas station lights. Immediately orders beer called This Is the Sh*t That Killed Elvis.
The place you’d like to take this date:
Stones Throw, a new tavern of meat, barrel-aged beers and poignant glances out windows, opening tonight in Russian Hill from some Michael Mina and Fat Angel vets.
With exposed rafters, windows facing Hyde and cable-car tracks nearby, they’ve hit the classy-but-not-stuffy sweet spot here, a place you might take somebody new, then soon it becomes your favorite place to eat together, and sometimes you laugh about the farcical misunderstanding you had with the waiter over that weird Elvis beer, but then maybe you drift apart for a while and go back to talk, and while you’re there you decide to split “Da Burga,” a monster burger that comes with baked-potato tots, and you suddenly realize you haven’t explored the “Asking for Trouble” section of the beer menu, which includes potent brews that arrive in brandy glasses just like the Elvis beer once did, and the next morning you wake up together, reminiscing about those baked-potato tots as the morning sun comes in the windows.
Also, you could just go sit at the bar solo for a ribeye and a michelada.
That works, too.
Hungry for pork belly. Admires 1940s gas station lights. Immediately orders beer called This Is the Sh*t That Killed Elvis.
The place you’d like to take this date:
Stones Throw, a new tavern of meat, barrel-aged beers and poignant glances out windows, opening tonight in Russian Hill from some Michael Mina and Fat Angel vets.
With exposed rafters, windows facing Hyde and cable-car tracks nearby, they’ve hit the classy-but-not-stuffy sweet spot here, a place you might take somebody new, then soon it becomes your favorite place to eat together, and sometimes you laugh about the farcical misunderstanding you had with the waiter over that weird Elvis beer, but then maybe you drift apart for a while and go back to talk, and while you’re there you decide to split “Da Burga,” a monster burger that comes with baked-potato tots, and you suddenly realize you haven’t explored the “Asking for Trouble” section of the beer menu, which includes potent brews that arrive in brandy glasses just like the Elvis beer once did, and the next morning you wake up together, reminiscing about those baked-potato tots as the morning sun comes in the windows.
Also, you could just go sit at the bar solo for a ribeye and a michelada.
That works, too.
