Pedro Alejandro Verdin
This is a list of bars I like.
Edinburgh Castle Pub, Tenderloin, San Francisco, CA
I have a lot to say about this bar and it might take the largest portion of this text so we should get it over with early on. Edinburgh Castle is located in the Tenderloin neighborhood of San Francisco. I lived a block away while I was going to Art School. This bar for better or for worse (in some ways for better, but in many ways for worse) shaped me. It seeped into my skin and altered my genes. It took a small boy and turned him into a little lad.
My first visit to the castle was under the name Justin Truong. My first fake ID which I think I got from the actual Justin Truong, but it’s been so long I can’t remember if I actually knew him or found the ID on the street. I spent most of my freshmen and sophomore year walking by it and looking in from the street. You couldn’t make out too much from the window since it was covered with scribes and tags. The bar had a pretty well known night called Candy Rain, R & B and early 2000’s hip hop. It was a big hit until someone got shot one night. Anyways, I finally built up the courage to take Justin out for the night and we made it in. I was 20, actually a week away from turning 21. I had mainly used the ID at this point to buy tall cans, so I felt I owed it to him to actually use it at a bar.
I was greeted by a lax bouncer who spent a second looking at his untied shoes instead of my fake I.D. and let me right through. I made it in. The dim light, tall ceilings, and moldy furniture welcomed me. I walked straight to the bar and asked for a recovery special (a PBR tall can & shot of low shelf whiskey). The bartender looked at me and asked for my I.D. Just like that, Justin and I were sent packing.
The following week I returned. Now 21 and able to be the real me, I walked in and asked for a recovery special. I got it.
I ended up going there every other day. I lived so close to it that it served as a second living room. At the time I lived in a two-bedroom apartment in the Tenderloin. I shared a room with my friend Connor and a cat named Jerry. The other room was taken up by our friend Henry. We’d usually have dinner with one another and then head to Edinburgh, except for Henry. He had a girlfriend. I don’t know what he did.
After staking my place as a regular at Edinburgh I developed a friendship with the bartender, Allan. A stern Scottish man with a heavy accent and a deep love for plaid shirts. As I’m writing this it’s really sinking in that he was a Scottish bartender at a Scottish themed bar.
He wasn’t very talkative at first and spent most of his time staring at everyone and then casually walking over to a nook behind the bar to text. Slowly he began to crack. He’d talk to me about growing up in Scotland and being a Suede head and then becoming a total party boy and taking trips to Germany to rave.
Edinburgh was very unique in the way that all of the people who went there on the regular had distinct roles in its ecosystems. Aside from Allan there was a bartender named Miranda who was a lovely person and a total freak. In the best way possible. There was another bartender whose name I can’t remember, but he was a total dick. His name might have been Richard, so we’ll just call him Dick. The roster of players also included a mysterious man who showed up every day and wrote in his moleskin. I never had a conversation with him, and I never saw him speak to anyone. He would just stare and write. I would kill to see whats in that damn journal.
Other regulars included BUCKFIFTY (RIP) who owned a knife shop right next door which would only be open from 11 PM - 3 AM, X a local drug dealer who had a heart of gold, my buddy Christopher who was an older Irish Man that had written for XLR8R and would always pop in after he finished yoga and a weird older dude who would always complain about the music.
The space is filled with old tales from the past 50 years. I was told that in the 90’s Liam Gallagher of Oasis went missing in the middle of a tour and ended up in San Francisco with some girl he had met. He was in Edinburgh drinking and doing speed for two months.
If you find yourself in the Tenderloin stop by the castle. Order fish and chips (which are made at Piccadilly around the corner) get a G & T and racer 5.
Hawaii West, Chinatown, San Francisco, CA
Some bars are small, cluttered, dark, and poorly decorated. I like that. Hawaii West is that type of place.
Located on the edge of Chinatown across from the police station is an unassuming bar that has nothing more than a couple small café tables and a grim pool table. The bar is led by a cavalry of women bartenders who light the space up.
The bar isn’t known for any type of specific drink. I’d usually just order beer and maybe some shots of tequila here and there. After one-night of spending most of the money my mom had sent me for food I found myself about to call it quits when I glanced over to the entrance. The bartender who had been pouring me shots and passionately singing along to Pat Benitar all night walked to the door and locked it. She lit her cigarette and turned off the lights. Me and four other friends were still there. We could see the officers coming in and out of the police station across the street. No one seemed phased by it. Another bartender came out from the back with pigs in a blanket and small bags of doritos. They took care of us.
On another night my friend N. who at the time was my professor took the class out to Hawaii west. My friend S. had a recent birthday and nate was feeling generous and asked her how old she was. She said she had just turned 22 and Nate turned to the bartender and asked for 22 dollar shot. There was a bit of confusion since I don’t think they had any shot worth 22 dollars. The bartender just pulled some dusty bottle from the back and poured her that.
My friend Dicky told me when he went to school in the 90’s in SF that Hawaii west was a bro bar and was super shitty. I’m glad I never saw it like that. It was just a good bar run by good people who had good snacks.
Bar C, Little Tokyo, Los Angeles, CA
L.A. is a tough place for good bars to exist for a number of reasons. You can’t walk home from a lot of them which prevent you from really letting loose, most places are burnt out, it takes more than 20 minutes to get a drink, and a lot of the bars are owned by the same person or company so they feel pretty monopolized. The dusty ass spots with lots of charm are still pretty gnarly, so much so you feel a bit intimidated by people in there.
One bar that I was really into when I first moved back down was Bar C. It’s across the street from the Office Depot in Little Tokyo in a strip mall. The facade of the bar is covered by the parking lot so it’s easy to overlook it. Inside you were greeted by fuzzy walls covered in what felt like a larger angora sweater. The rest of the décor felt like a random assortment of wall paper and furniture.
Adding to the ambience of the space were maid outfits that the bartender/waitress wore. I wasn’t expecting it and as someone on yelp wrote “The weird French maid costume by the bartender lady must be enjoyable for some kinky men?! I don't know...” but it for sure added more flare to the whole experience.
They had a large selection of drinks including some type of alcohol made with prunes. It wasn’t terrible and I would gladly slam a couple more if they were still open.
Big Jim’s, Sun Valley, CA
This place is a gem in the San Fernando Valley. Located on the corner of a busy street in Sun Valley, this western themed Bar and Grill is a perfect watering hole for those who want to hide away from the world. You’ll never run into anyone there and if you do happen to run into someone there, it might be a good moment to reevaluate who you’re talking to.
The bar is located in the back of the restaurant which is beautifully decorated in a southwest theme including airbrush ceilings depicting arizona landscapes, cowboy spurs scattered throughout, and fish tanks that all seem to be missing fish.
I’ve had a handful of nights here ending with a wobbly walk to the lyft. I don’t know why I keep ordering Tequila Sunrises here but I just feel like they make them a little bit more special then anywhere else.
If you find yourself in a hole or in Sun Valley head to Big Jims.
The Brown Jug, Tenderloin, San Francisco, Ca
Dirty. Crusty. Smelly. Angry. Loud. Empty. Hopeless. Belligerent. Infested. Decerped.
Brown Jug was a filth pit in Tenderloin which itself is also a filth pit. It opened in 1941 and closed in 2016. Not a place for everyone, but a place everyone needed to see at least once in their life to get some much-needed perspective.
In this bar I’ve seen roaches run across the counter and get smashed by the bartender with his bare hands. I’ve seen two people fight and choke each other before passionately jumping into a make out sesh. I’ve even seen someone walkout of the bar at 9 am, piss on the side and go back in. Like other bars on this list this one is no longer with us.
One of the first times I went there I remember seeing a DJ set up in the back on top of the pool table. One of the regulars began screaming “Turn that fucking shit off Bitch!” while three other regulars grinded up on a group of 20 something year olds. Outside 10 people watched as a kid smashed a car window with his skateboard. There were no rules and that’s why this spot has made it onto my list. It was free for all.
The demise of this place was documented by SFist which wrote “The ABC conducted its independent investigation over the course of five months. The agency's undercover agent allegedly sold the "stolen" liquor to multiple bartenders' and staff and reportedly involved the bar's owner, too. Samson Christopher Eric Baker of San Francisco, one bartender, allegedly facilitated the sale of cocaine, connecting the undercover agent with another patron. He was arrested when the ABC contacted SFPD on June 2.”.
The bar opened at 6 am and it closed at 2 am. I stopped for a beer here once at 10 am which was the first and last time I ever drank that early, but I was grateful for the opportunity and like I said earlier grateful for the new life perspective I gained. I don’t have much more to say other than thank you for existing.
Bullet Bar, North Hollywood, Ca
Located on the border of North Hollywood and Burbank is Bullet Bar, a Gay Bar with an outdoor patio, pool table, and tv’s showing gay porn throughout (think more KINK.COM) I went there first with my older cousin I. and really fell hard for this place. Good drinks, friendly folks, and a lot of space to sprawl.
One night in particular I went to get a drink with my girlfriend. We arrived around 4 PM on a summer day. The Valley was HOT. We had a real hankering for some bloody Mary’s and quickly sat down on the back patio after getting them. An older man kept staring and smiling at us. He finally got up and walked to us, sat down and introduced himself. His name was Tim, he was 72. We hit it off immediately. He asked us what we did and we told him we both made art. He told us about how he used to make paintings in the past. One particular painting he seemed extra proud of was called Snow bunnies in which he and his buddies jizzed on white canvas and mixed it with paint. I don’t know if he was telling the truth, but I later googled CANVAS SEMEN PAINTING and found out Andy Warhol made something similar.
One bloody Mary turned into five. As the sun set down more of Tim’s friends showed up. Suddenly we were surrounded by 5 old gay men who kept buying us drinks. At one point I went to the bathroom where I saw Tim, who called me over and told me that my girlfriend had just done a bump. I did one with him on the hand dryer and came back outside. He tricked my girlfriend into doing a bump with the same lie. Sneaky, but generous.
That’s the type of hospitality you’ll find at bullet.
El Nuevo Paraiso Bar, Highland Park, Los Angeles, Ca
I spent a lot of time at this bar from 2017 - 2019. I used to have a dance night here called GOT 2B REAL.
I don’t know what to say other than it’s a space typically reserved for older Mexicans and I might have brought a type of gentrifier vibe to the situation. I don’t know, probably did - oops!
The owner was maybe part of the cartel but also probably not but maybe? He liked to keep us guessing.
They let the music play obnoxiously loud and the beer was only 3 bucks. I once had a studio visit for Made in LA 2018. We invited the curator to the bar where my partner at the time and I were gonna do a performance for her. She came at 2 PM and we had dressed the space up with black lights and fog. There was Pedro (different guy) who was a regular at the counter slumped over and the owner who like I said may or may not be in the cartel. He told her no cameras when she pulled out her phone and glared at her the whole time we did our little disco performance. She didn’t stick around too long and we heard from people at the Hammer that she came back to the office confused and terrified.
Bow Bow, Chinatown, San Francisco
Best karaoke bar ever. Run by Mama Candy this place is perfect for a group outing.
You typically go to bars like this to see your friends or strangers make fools of themselves, but Mama Candy is really the main reason to go here. She has mood swings that can determine whether or not people get to sing. If you do a great job on a song you might get a shot, if you blow it on a song you could bet she’ll come out from around the bar screaming and swiping the mic from your hands.
Don’t go if you can’t take a critique and bring cash or she will charge the wrong card for the wrong bill. This has happened a lot, especially when she starts drinkinig with everyone.
Not much else to say other than 10/10.
MAMA CANDY
High Tide, Tenderloin, San Francisco
Another bar in San Francisco that no longer exsists.
My freshmen dorm was actually right next door. I used to peep and see people in there. There decoration was just dollar bills tapped throughout the space.
The painting above was found over the cash register, I think someone told me the that they heard the bartender had this portrait done when she was younger. I don’t know if it actually is her but I have this image scorched in my memory. I adore the feathers doing such a bad job of covering her, or the best job of exposing her. Very tasteful in my opinion.
It’s a really positive gaze that shes projecting, I think I always felt pretty cheery seeing her. Not in a sexual way, but more in a “Wow, this is a really cool painting. This is a very adult bar” type of way. If that makes sense.
Something about the heavy black background too feels like there must be a wonderful refrence photo, I’d love to see it. I wish I knew where this painting ended up at after they closed.
If anyone has information on it please contact me at pedroalejandroverdin@gmail.com
Thank you for all the memories High Tide.