Like so many of our San Francisco rabble, I’m picky and take pride in our sustainable “locals only” approach to noshing. The body, the temple — the co-op veggie box, the parish? Though I do admit, some days my body feels like a temple built over an ancient burial ground (hello, hangover!), I want to do right by my body. I love freshness, feel awakened and clean, if only psychosomatically, by verdant, leafy things at the farmers markets. I geek out over the deep and dusky blush of an enormous heirloom tomato and am charmed by the beads of bramble fruits. Oh, the romance!
This past summer, cradling lil’ bitty baskets of fruits lovingly, I plopped golden raspberries, strawberries, and yellow peach slices into a white wine sangria for my birthday and scattered rosemary over the bowl. Admiring my work, and thinking, “Well, isn’t this just adorable?” I couldn’t stop adding to the mix: red raspberries, nectarines, oranges. The sangria bowl turned into an alcoholic fruit salad, and I was totally into it.
That was the beginning of my love affair with farm fresh ingredients and booze. And of late, it’s progressed into an unhealthy obsession that I hope is circling back to healthy on account of all the organic produce I’m consuming. That’s how it works, right? As the cold months creep and the heirloom tomato crops dwindle from the booths, I’ve been scampering to discover bars that follow a farm-to-bar philosophy.
Next to the SFMOMA, XYZ in the W Hotel encapsulates an entirely San Franciscan take in its bar: modern design and sustainable ingredients. The “eco-licious” menu caters to these nominal farm-to-bar virtues: local farmers are supported, and bars are getting fresher, higher-quality ingredients delivered. Not that anyone’s blind to the handy dandy convenience that saying something’s “green” and “eco” on your menu is also a marketing hook, but it’s a pretty decent way to eagerly (and socially) support regional food growers. Happy to find the heirloom here, I tried one drink made with my beloved tomato, Corzo Reposado tequila, basil, and salt. Like a softened, polished Bloody Mary, the drink is so savory it’s almost meaty. Other botanically edgy drinks make use of jalapeno with red Cara cara oranges or fresh pear with ginger liqueur — fig jam with orange bitters.
Two blocks away on 1st St. is 83 Proof, a bar that takes cocktails very seriously. Alchemist savants, the bartenders are a crazy fountain of bar knowledge. You tell them what flavors you like, and they’ll build a cocktail to match. They like to spend about ten minutes, if time permits, with each customer, throwing some muscle into making the drink, working the pestle to mash up fresh ingredients like strawberries and jalapenos for a vodka mix: my favorite. Each bartender has his or her specialty; some are rum folk, some whiskey or scotch. These are bartenders who love what they do, spending time to explain the flavors as well as the bar’s history. My guy, Mike, said that 83 Proof has a bit of SF notoriety tied to it as it had been closed down for more than a decade after a violent shootout when it was a Chinese triad bar. And prior to that it was a long shoreman’s bar (back when the shore came up to Howard Street) with the original 1936 flooring.
Now it’s not recommended to make a meal out of a cocktail, but should you skip dinner and go straight to the booze, Mr. Smith’s, at 7th and Market, should sate that savory tooth. The fresh ingredients — the basil, cilantro, sage, house marmalades, berry jams, or jalapeno peppers for instance — mean no margarita mixes here. They really juice the limes for their 7th Street Gimlet, a medley of gin, basil, lime, agave, and chipotle. For the Cilantro Smash, the bartender will slice your jalapeno made to order; and will halve the lemon before your eyes for the Sage Lady, made with Veev, an acai liqueur, and Chartreuse. Bottled in mason jars, the herbs, fruits, and preserves capture this homestead feel to an otherwise white-collar bar.
As we near winter, I’ll be interested to see how these sustainable menus change, how the boons of summer and fall farmers markets will drop out of sight and bartenders will have to continue to be creative with their ingredients. What might they do with the citrus or carrot, celery or fennel?
