fresh meat: The Alembic

I stopped eating in the Upper Haight a long time ago—my twenties ended, and so that was it. Meeting up with friends at Cha Cha Cha, Kan Zaman, and El Balazo (man, can their staff be icy—I had to boycott them years ago) went the way of Bruno at Aub Zam Zam (rest in peace, old guy—SF's original martini Nazi). Yes, the food at Magnolia can offer a safe haven, and breakfast at the Pork Store can function like a SWAT team on your hangover, but otherwise, the only thing that could get me to saddle up and head on over to this neck of the panhandling trustafarian woods would be the promise of bourbon and some bites at ~THE ALEMBIC~.

The Alembic is a second project for Dave McLean, who is the kind owner behind Magnolia Pub and Brewery just down the street at Masonic—he also brought on Chef Eddie Blyden to oversee both kitchens (Blyden was formerly at 21st Amendment and Sneaky Tiki). Eddie is one friendly chef—he likes to say hi and hang out with his customers (this man needs an exhibition kitchen!), and since he's lived all over the world, he always has some good stories.

I also think Eddie is hell-bent on getting you fat since the menu is an unabashed paean to cheese and pork (bacon, pork belly, you get the picture). Or perhaps he just has your best interests at heart, because he knows you'll be in need of some fat molecules in your system to counterbalance the booze you are about to consume.

Not just any booze, mind you: small-batch, artisanal, crafted booze. Hello bourbon. Yes, whiskey, I am winking at you. Hey, it's time for a cocktail. Take your pick from classics like old-fashioneds and sazeracs and Manhattans, or "new school" numbers, like a redux of the daiquiri, the mint julep, and then there's "the bone," reportedly a turn-of-the-century gambler's drink. (All are $9.) Like Bourbon & Branch, this is not the place to order a cosmo.

Suds are well represented, including some of Magnolia's brews on tap, some independent Cali breweries, and bottled Belgians. Plus a pleasing selection of wines by the glass for those who prefer the grape. And there's also sake. Oh heck, if there's something you like to drink you'll probably find it here. (Unless it's Budweiser, then they simply can't help you.)

The joint is small: the bar has room for ten or so, and there's also a bar rail up against the wall where you can sit, plus some tables in the front and back of the space. It used to be Sweet Heat and then Maroc, so for those of you who remember, yes, the place is petite. Think boîte. Don't come here with a pile of friends because you'll just get frustrated, which is not the idea. This place is about hanging out. The bartenders are happy to educate, and however long your cash (or liver) can sustain you, you'll want to kick it at the bar and continue earning credits toward your alcohol higher education.

Some highlights on the Southern-gastropub small plates menu: the jerk-lacquered chicken wings ($9) come in a pile (like six or seven), and pack some kick, almost like they're a little mad at you. Which is where the cool yogurt dipping sauce comes in. The tender lamb sliders ($10) with harissa aioli and tapenade are quite tasty—my sole regret about them is you only get two. (Some guys might also say this about breasts.)

Meanwhile, the spaetzle ($13) comes loaded with braised rabbit, Hobbs' bacon, corn, and while a bit under-salted on two visits, it's a hearty serving that's good enough for three to share. (Unless you're a big starving drunk boy who is totally hangry.)

You ready to turn that richness dial to 11? Let's do it. How about barbecued pork belly and deviled duck eggs nestled in a bath of grits ($15)? The temp on this (rather messy) dish wasn't quite hot enough despite the presentation in the Staub cast iron dish, and I actually wanted the eggs to be runny instead of deviled, but it still has appeal in its own funky little way.

Lancaster County "Cheesesteak" ($15) shows Blyden at his most sinister: oxtails are slow-braised in porter and burgundy, and served up as a two-cheese Welsh rarebit (with cheddar and Gruyere), plus thick-cut toast to sop it all up. Mwah hah hah! Pure evil.

Eddie is committed to the local/sustainable/organic trinity, so yes, the price-points are a little more than some will want to spend on small plates, especially any post-millennial hippies. Vegetarians can take their pick from goat cheese fritters ($9) to start, plus a vegetable "stack" ($9/sporting more goat cheese), and a cassoulet ($13) made with vegetables instead of the classic meat-fest. Stewed mixed greens ($6) tasted a little thin and not gutsy enough—perhaps the Niman bacon is what they needed.

I haven't made it in for the lunch/brunch service on the weekend (12pm-4pm), but the list of "prosecco pick-me-ups" (try all four, I will!) and seeing a Ramos gin fizz on there make me happy. Also seeing Daniel/Danny/Dan Hyatt (whatever you personally call him) behind the bar makes me happy too—he was formerly at Winterland, where came up with the best drink names ever, like "I Lost My Necktie." Yes, he understands.

The space has an old school and almost East Coast vibe (pressed tin ceiling, wood floors made from reclaimed food from a barn in Pennsylvania, mustard walls, suspended Edison light bulbs over the bar) and there are also some thoughtful touches, like hooks under the bar (bless), super-padded barstools for your bum, and individual hand towels (yes, real towels) in the bathroom. I love the late-night hours—it's a cozy and cool spot to hang out at after 10pm, when you just might get lucky and score a couple seats at the bar.

A small point of trivia about the bar: it's actually made from bleachers from Kezar Stadium. Oh, and trivia point number two: if you are wondering what the hell an alembic is, it's the original distilling apparatus that dates back to Persia from 800 or so—some small-batch distillers use one to this day. Feel free to impress a date with these random factoids, you can thank me later.

At the end of the night, when it's no longer allowable to serve you anything, the bartender will lower the massive chalkboard that lists all the spirits (it's rigged up with wheels and a line)—it then obscures the beautiful glimmering shelves o' spirits, like the curtain dropping at the end of a performance. Clap clap!

The Alembic
1725 Haight St.
Cross: Cole St.
San Francisco, CA 94117

415-666-0822
website

Daily 4pm-2am
Kitchen closes at 12am
Lunch Sat-Sun 12pm-4pm

Apps $5-$9
Small plates $6-$15
Desserts $7