Walking San Francisco

Beat Generation landmark Vesuvio specializes in stiff drinks and tattered memorabilia.

PARKING: Driving is a bad idea if you plan to imbibe, but there’s a parking lot on Vallejo between Columbus and Mason.

North Beach is one of San Francisco’s best neighborhoods for barhopping, simply because the district is awash in a variety of fine watering holes within a small, walkable area. The offerings range from rowdy local taverns to historic beatnik dives to urban hipster lounges, and the crowds tend to be a diverse mix of local denizens, sozzled poets, and chatty tourists. While it would be irresponsible to drink in every bar on this tour, your throat is liable to be a bit dry at some point during your walk, and you’ll be following in the steps of raucous pirates, boundary-pushing writers, and community-minded Italians by bellying up to the bar for a drink and conversation.

The best time to hit the bars in North Beach is the latter half of the week, when things are on the upswing. The weekends can be crowded when the bridge-and-tunnel crowd invades the neighborhood, but they also offer more occasion for live music to spill onto the street. Late afternoon or early evening can be quite nice, if you’re inclined toward enjoying a drink or two before a meal.

Walk Description

Mario’s Bohemian Cigar Store, on the corner of Columbus Avenue and Union Street, is always a good place to start for its central location and its early hours. But mostly because Mario’s represents what so many are seeking when they come to North Beach: authenticity, family legacy, deep Italian roots, and unpretentious warmth. Mario’s is a friendly joint with a limited menu, and the toasted-focaccia sandwiches are excellent. Their bread comes from nearby Liguria Bakery, who has been perfecting the craft since 1911. A retired cop from Trieste, Italy, Mario Crismani opened the place in 1972, and his son took it over when he died. You’ll spot photos of Mario and his family above the bar. Signore Mario also served as president of the city’s bocce association. The bar once really did sell cigars, and it was originally a hangout for older Italian gents. These days, the crowd is younger and more mixed, and of course there’s no smoking. Other than that, the place hasn’t changed a bit.

After departing Mario’s, saunter east on down Union Street to Stockton Street and turn right. Midway up the block is a classy little joint called

Tony Nik’s. The sign above the door, one of the oldest in North Beach, is a throwback to when food needed to be served with alcohol. Tony Nik’s flung open its doors immediately following the repeal of Prohibition in 1933, and the retro vibe is the real deal. Wood paneling, a starburst clock, and bartenders you can trust to mix excellent old-school cocktails ensure that Don Draper would feel comfortable tossing a few back here. There’s a small lounge in the rear with intimate tables, and the best time to come is for happy hour (4–7 p.m.).

At Green Street, hook left, and in less than a block you’ll reach

Gino and Carlo, one of North Beach’s enduring neighborhood bars. This place is purely local in the best possible way: it’s nothing fancy but always lively, and newcomers will feel welcome. It has some history too. Long ago, hard-drinking Chronicle columnist Charles McCabe—known as the Fearless Spectator—regularly penned his daily column from a table here. And Janis Joplin reputedly frequented the bar in the 1960s. In an interview with Hoodline, beloved bartender and co-owner Frank Colla (who retired in 2015) fondly recalls when Francis Ford Coppola brought the whole crew from Apocalypse Now in to quench their thirst. The drinks are relatively cheap, there’s a pool table and pinball machine, and there’s usually a game playing on TV.

Devil’s Acre has the booze-based cure for what ails you, as well as a speakeasy-style basement bar.

At Grant Avenue, turn right and head for the

Saloon, just past Vallejo Street. It’s the oldest bar in San Francisco, having opened its doors in 1861. Originally called Wagner’s Beer Hall, it’s a true survivor—it has endured the demise of the Barbary Coast, the 1906 quake, the Prohibition era, and the 1960s. The Saloon, bless it, is no model of gentrification. It’s dusty, sagging, and peeling. The faded painted ladies over the bar lack Victorian propriety. But the overall vibe is good and welcoming. At night, the Saloon features live blues bands—good ones, usually.

Head up narrow Fresno Street and then right on Romolo Place.

15 Romolo is the address and name of a sultry little hideaway that opened in the late 1990s. Formerly a Basque restaurant, it’s a stylish watering hole without pretense. The barkeeps are keeping up with the current renaissance in mixology, and the drink list regularly introduces original concoctions and seasonal cocktails along with updated classics. They also serve upscale pub food and a cocktail brunch.

Romolo Place leads to Broadway; turn right and make your way back to Columbus. Immediately upon turning, the apothecary-themed

Devil’s Acre beckons with aproned “pharmacists” who mix drinks designed by an in-house herbalist. The moniker comes from the nickname of a particularly tawdry stretch of Barbary Coast bars and brothels, and the proprietors have gone heavy on the vintage medicinal theme, creating an atmospheric bar with top-notch cocktails. But the real treat lies in the candlelit basement gin mill, Remedie, found by descending stairs at the back of the bar.

We hope you’ve still got your sea legs beneath you, because we’ve saved three of the biggest heavy hitters for last. Turn left on the squib of a street called William Saroyan Place (named after the author) to make your way to

Specs’ Twelve Adler Museum, one of North Beach’s most storied watering holes. Specs’ is a little grotto that oozes atmosphere without trying too much. The place is a dark and dusty museum of the best possible sort, filled with the lurid and the arcane, much of which has been sent from bar loyalists on their travels. The crowd is a jovial mix of juiced philosophers and loosened-tie types, and Specs himself (né Richard Simmons and nicknamed because of his Coke-bottle glasses) saw it as a place for people to swap stories about their lives.

Just beyond William Saroyan Place is

Tosca Cafe, a North Beach staple with Italian arias on the jukebox, red-leather booths, and brandy-laced house cappuccinos (that don’t actually have any coffee in them). Rumors about the place abound: Did Bono really jump on the bar at 4 a.m. and sing along with a Pavarotti record? Did Dennis Quaid really apprehend a purse snatcher here? Did Sean Penn really once blow a hole through the wall to stop Kid Rock from playing music? Jeanette Etheredge presided over the bar’s most colorful period, and her lips are mostly sealed. But despite the patron’s list being a who’s who of creative giants, Tosca remains a welcoming, dignified place. When Etheredge handed over the keys in 2013, the new owners promised to honor the history and style of the place. Take a seat and see if they’ve succeeded. On the opposite side of Columbus Avenue, two Beat landmarks,

Vesuvio Cafe and City Lights bookstore, flank narrow Jack Kerouac Alley. They don’t serve drinks at City Lights, so make your way to Vesuvio Cafe, where faux stained glass, Beat Generation memorabilia, and art covers every inch of the walls. Opened in 1948, the place has its own native eccentricity and a place in North Beach history. When in town, writers such as Kerouac and poet Dylan Thomas drank and told fish stories here. Owner Henri Lenoir traded in on the beatnik craze by marketing a kit that included a beret, sandals, black turtleneck sweater, and false goatee. Vesuvio still has the beatnik spirit. Sit downstairs to soak in the bar’s history or at an upstairs window to watch Columbus Avenue flow by.

Farther down on Columbus, the

Comstock Saloon and

Cafe Zoetrope are both mentioned in our Jackson Square and North Beach walks (see the previous two walks, respectively). Try a Barbary Coast cocktail at the former and a great Coppola wine at the latter.