Food & Drink
By Santiago Melli-Huber
I would never have gone to Rendezvous at Lombard and Fillmore on my own.
I am not the type who treks out to the Marina on a Wednesday night — or any night, honestly. But The Bold Italic asked if I’d drink out of a toilet-shaped shotglass and sip cocktails with rubber duckies floating in them. So why not?
The sign at Rendezvous simply says “Bar.” I walked in past a sign with lips making the “shh” gesture and a caption that reads, “Here for a good time, not a long time.”
My mind flooded with images of January 6, weekly COVID deaths still in four figures, and trigger-happy Walgreens security guards, and I realize I have never agreed with a sign more. It’s shortly after 4 p.m., and I — recently laid-off with no kids — have nothing better to do on a Wednesday then try a bunch of kitschy cocktails.
I’m greeted by a bartender who asks how I’m doing and, unprompted, immediately pours me a glass of water from a bottle that reads, “Stay hydrated.”
I know nothing about mixology. Over the years, I learned to look at the garnishes: If a drink has either mint or basil, I’ll usually like it. But it’s a challenge in a bar where drinks are served in bongs, and the garnishes are things like popcorn and rubber duckies.
So I ordered three drinks, and my boyfriend Benjamin joined so I could try his, too; because while I wouldn’t normally trek to the Marina, I’d happily black out there. My first cocktail is the Pea Flower: snap peas, flower water, gin, citrus, whey, and cane sugar.
It tasted floral and smoky — is smoky a word used to describe a drink? On a wine tasting trip in my early 20s, I described a glass of wine as having “grapey undertones,” and the sommelier agreed without a hint of irony. Since then, I assumed everyone was making shit up when describing flavors beyond the basic sweet, salty, sour, or spicy.
This cocktail was fine enough to finish drinking it but not to bother ordering it ever again. Benjamin thought it was “very tasty.” Next we tried the #DuckieRosé — a rosé sangria — partly because I know he likes sangrias, and partly because I wanted to see a drink garnished with a rubber duckie.
I don’t usually love sangrias, but that one was a winner. Also, it may have just been the way the duck’s butt was positioned against the edge of the glass floating in the wine, but when I tilted the glass up towards my mouth, the duck’s head went down beneath the surface, as if it were taking a drink, too. It was cute.
I was kidding earlier about wanting to black out, or at least it wasn’t on the agenda tonight, so we ordered food: bacon-wrapped wieners and pretzel bread. The bread was hot and delicious and served with a spicy mustard. The wieners were covered in some kind of maple glaze. Boyfriend stuffed a bacon-wrapped wiener inside a slice of pretzel bread, saying, “I’m excited for this abomination.”
Someone at the bar was drinking a white slushie out of what looked like a bear-shaped honey bottle. Another person who ordered the duckie sangria was drinking it out of what looked like an enormous red fist he had his hand inside, as if the Hulk had a bad sunburn.
For our next drinks:
The “Netflix & Chill” (how original)
Tamarind, elderflower soda, Amaro, butter-washed bourbon, garnished with popcorn and served in a popcorn bucket.
The Jasmine
Jasmine tea, strawberries, pineapple, rum, Falnerum, and cane sugar.
The Jasmine was both our favorites, and it had a mint leaf, which gave me yet another data point to validate my cocktail garnish strategy.
The “Netflix & Chill” was overly sweet; I needed to eat some popcorn between sips to balance it out. I quickly realized that it’s meant to taste like a soda and popcorn. A person behind the bar, Shai, confirmed it’s meant to taste like a Coke. I tasted something closer to Dr Pepper, but the vibe was certainly on point.
Benjamin was wearing a floral hoodie. Shai says to him, “I like your flower shirt. You’re ready to work here.” Shai and the other bartender are both wearing long-sleeve floral print button-downs.
At one point, Shai calls Benjamin and I over and gives us shots, which he calls “Pee-no Grigio.” It’s literally just pinot grigio that gets pissed out of a statue and into toilet-shaped shot glasses.
Save it for Folsom, Shai.
Finally, it’s time for the last drink: the Secreto Cocktail, whose description just says “your heart’s desire.” I go back to the bar and ask Shai, “Can I get the Secreto Cocktail?”
Shai says, “I don’t know. Maybe.”
I respond, “Okay, take my money or don’t, that’s on you.” Shai laughed. These people can take a joke.
To know what to make, Shai asked me what I usually go for. I said I usually drink red wine but that I don’t know fuck all about mixology. I explain my garnish thing. Then he asked: “Sweet or sour?”
I could go either way. Just not smoky, and no tequila. As a good Jersey boy, I drank my fair share of tequila in college. She and I are no longer on speaking terms.
Eventually, Shai presents me with a Southside, describing it as a mojito made with gin. Perfect. I like both gin and mojitos.
Shai says, “Not every bar will serve you a Southside in a hippo.” That’s probably true, but God help the next bartender who makes me a Southside and doesn’t serve it with a pink flamingo krazy straw.
This one’s my favorite one of the night. it just tasted like a regular mojito, but at this point I’m three drinks into the evening and I can’t tell the difference. Bravo to Shai for asking a couple of basic questions and truly serving me, as the description read, my heart’s desire.
Before leaving, I went to the bathroom, which has my favorite bathroom setup possible: a series of fully enclosed, single-occupant, gender-neutral stalls and a communal sink area. Maximum efficiency, maximum privacy.
I close my tab, have a minor heart attack looking at the bill, and leave.
I don’t see myself coming back, mostly because I am never in the Marina and there are plenty of lovely cocktail bars near me. However, if you live near there, spend any time there, or you have family in town who want to see nearby Fisherman’s Wharf, I recommend stopping in. It’s a cute space with a fun vibe and friendly staff.
I didn’t get whichever drink comes served in a bong, but how funny would it be to see your abuelita drinking out of one of them?
Santiago Melli-Huber is a San Francisco-based writer.
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