Chatting with a friend about his upcoming trip to San Francisco, I found he didn’t know two things about the wharf side of town. 1. The sea lions have left. After years of barking at tourists, photo ops and being a general nuisance to the port they just picked up and left. No one knows why. I’m thinking…will they be missed?
And 2. He’d never been to the Buena Vista. Home to a very famous Irish Coffee and across the street from the main cable car stop. Something he shouldn’t have missed.
So, I’m enlightening him, and you all, today.
Pictured here is “
Their story is that he invented the popular drink of fresh brewed coffee, two cocktail sugar cubes, their own label of Irish Whiskey and topped with lightly whipped cream. I don’t want to paraphrase their story but you can find it here: http://thebuenavista.com/irishcoffee.html
My hubby loves San Francisco. Lombardi street, Coit tower, Ghirardelli Square, shopping at Union Plaza, Alcatraz, Chinatown to Little Italy. At the wharf it’s all about Boudin’s bread topped with Havarti cheese chased with steaming clam chowder in a bread bowl, then over to the pier for shrimp cocktail…and cocktails at one of the Grotto restaurants.
No trip is ever complete without a stop at the Buena Vista. Bar/Coffee Shop/Hangout we tend to squeeze in at night or slip into a table mid-day. Sometimes it’s just for the Irish Coffee, sometimes we have a meal. I do recall the meals being homey and nice. But nothing warms up my frozen fingers like their personalized drink.
I can have one, but prefer two or three if I have time to linger over it. I like watching the bartender line up all of the glasses at once to make dozens at a time. I like watching the waiters pile up their trays and weave through the crowds. I like knowing that one of those drinks is mine.
Now, knowing me you must realize that I’ve had my fair share of coffee drinks over the years. I spend a few with Baileys, Frangelico and Sambuca. But haven’t had them for years. My palate graduated away from sweet flavors. And an Irish Coffee, only at the Buena Vista, is only sweet in my mind’s memory. And thankfully not in the glass.