Upon entering the establishment, I took an immediate liking to the place. A rather modern place, with a few stylistic old world elements (think along the lines of Hendrick's imagery) to enhance the venue's character and lend a nod to the era of when bourbon and gin cocktails reigned supreme. A somewhat narrow space, with concrete-gray colored walls; a few high-boy bistro tables in either window; an industrial, metal table towards the right of the entrance surrounded with an octet of institutional chairs, and an orange leather booth that ran along the left side of a pair of long, narrow, raw wood, high tables with matching institutional stools.
The bar itself was made of a heavy, dark wood, and had an antique appearance (also lined with institutional metal stools.) Suspended above the bar was a row of exposed tungsten bulbs dangling at various lengths and intervals--hmmm... notice a trend recently? (I must confess, upon my latest relocation to Midtown, I myself, installed exposed tungsten bulbs in my bathroom.) Adding even more length and vertical movement to the space, the ceiling was covered in slender boards of unfinished wood, wood that very much complimented the tables.
Blackbird's drink menu, written in black magic marker on rather large pieces of brown butcher paper (another charming touch) is hung against a perpendicular wall entirely decoupaged with old newspapers. Listed are about a dozen house cocktails, (which appear pretty impressive at first glance-until realizing about a third of them are vodka based) accompanied by a decent selection of beer and wine. (Upon a subsequent visit, I discovered they have very friendly happy hour prices as well.)
Slightly further into the space, another booth of orange leather, this time much lower and much longer, a row of square, raw wood tables and (surprise, surprise,) a bundle of industrial metal chairs. Toward the back lay a much used pool table and an ever slightly used photo booth, as well as the restrooms.
For my first drink I was torn between the Batida, which featured real coconut milk or the Dutch Courage which contained egg white. I went for the liquid courage: Bols Genever, maple syrup, egg white, lemon juice, lime juice, a dash of orange flower water and served with a sprig of mint. I was pleased at Blackbird that they measured their pours and squeezed fresh fruit for every order. Unfortunately they don't use fresh eggs, they use egg whites from a carton and I immediately could tell the difference. The yummy, creamy, frothy, milkshake-like texture I am so fond of, was just not there.
For round two I asked for a custom cocktail and my bartender was at a bit of a loss. (I'm so thankful such a situation seldom happens to me in the Emerald City.) I attempted to guide her through a beverage I had enjoyed recently at Vessel and was able to recall most, if not all, of the ingredients. She did her best, but the result was not quite exactly what I was hoping for.
The mediocrity of my cocktail mattered little for the people-watching here was spectacular. I sat at the lower booth, facing the bar, on my right, were two married European couples and to my left, a table of assorted Hipsters--boys and girls. I would watch people as they filed in; the Pretty People, the B-Gays, the Lipstick Lesbonics, the Bears, the Cubs, the Cougars, the Yuppies (yes, they still do exist,) the Daddies, the Bridge-and-Tunnel crowd (think Tavern Law on a Saturday night,) and the tourists (myself included.) I found it a bit fascinating seeing such an array of people flocking to the same watering hole, and they all were actually interacting with one another. That is something we seldom see in the Emerald City.
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A few days later I brought in my friend who was the impetus of my whole SF trip, she had just finished Nursing School at the prestigious University of San Francisco. I flew down, along with her sister, to keep her company on the drive back to the Emerald City. That day we discovered Blackbird's great happy hour. Wine $4, Beer $3 and Wells $3. She had a vodka with soda. I had a cocktail, which is not on special (High Maintenance? Maybe, but hey, I was on vacation.) This time I went with the house Negroni: Blue Coat Gin, Aperol, Lillet Rouge served with an orange twist. It worked. I have a friend in the Emerald City who loves Negronis and I know he'd take a liking to the Blackbird Negroni.
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My last venture to Blackbird I went to meet up with my DJ friend (did I mention he's recently engaged?) It was a Wednesday night, around 8 o'clock and I was a bit early. The bar was the most crowded I had ever seen. After patiently waiting to place an order I was informed they were sold out of their house specialty, The Martinez. So I just went with a whiskey sour. $3. I didn't realize it was still happy hour. Perhaps that explained why it was so crowded?
It took awhile for me to secure seating, but I was in no rush. One of the long wooden tables near the door was eventually vacated after which, I slid into the high booth and just drank in the scenery while sipping on my sour. My friend arrived, sporting a new haircut and took a seat beside me. That wasn't the only thing new he wore. He had a ring on his left hand. I was so excited! Turns out it's a Teno.
For the sake of old times, my friend ordered us a pair of Last Words and we plotted our plans for the night, where we might go for dinner and further drinks and where we'd end up for some dancing. Well, our plans evolved as we met some lost couch surfers. My friend told them of a nearby hill, Corona Heights, where you can hike up and take in a fantastic view of the city. I was feeling a bit adventurous so after filling ourselves with some burgers nearby we stopped off at the corner store and grabbed a bottle of Maker's (and a can of coconut water,) and set off for the hill.
Though pretty steep, especially for an urban hike, the climb wasn't bad at all and well worth it. Once we reached the pinnacle we were able to take in an amazing view of the entire city. We found a boulder to perch upon and broke open our bottle of Bourbon. As the hours went by, the more we revealed to one another: we spoke of love, lost and found; of family; of life, past and present and the possible future; all the while we watched the city slowly become shrouded in layers of fog and mist until we found ourselves at a loss for last words, surrounded by a sea of glowing brume and an empty bottle of whiskey.
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