"Tex Mex" conjures up many images — electrified fences frying human flesh, ZZ Top members getting their beards caught in a fan belt, and... More >>

The bar at Chow is my own private Idaho. It also offers many escape hatches from my little fiefdom in the form of the F, the J, various buses,... More >>

Three cheers for San Francisco wine bars that don't look like San Francisco wine bars! There is nothing sleek about Blush, nothing mixed-media,... More >>

Nobody is called a "hobo" anymore. If you carry all your possessions with you and roam from place to place, you are simply "homeless." I suppose... More >>

"Where are the clowns?" I asked the bartender. Before you curse me for putting "Send in the Clowns" in your head, let me explain. I recently... More >>

Buddhism is really the only religion that makes any sense, and that is because there is nothing too inherently kooky about it. No burning bush in... More >>

I've never really been drawn to the Beats, never really had a Bukowski period, never really liked the feel of a turtleneck on my throat. Don't... More >>

Someone should write a book about places in S.F. that are good for lone diners and imbibers. You could give it a clever name, like Table for One,... More >>

You have to hand it to the proprietors of Bourbon & Branch and Rickhouse. They are the Ken Burnses of booze; they take events in American history... More >>

One must approach Chinatown with a certain cognitive dissonance. I realized this when I spent the night there recently. I left my friend's... More >>