Earthquakes and looting: terrible scourges on today’s society.
Earthquakes and looting in 1906 that led to a bar opening in 2011: let’s drink...
Presenting Reed & Greenough, an upscale cocktail sanctuary inspired by a sign looted during the 1906 quake and stocked with all the classic underpinnings of a swank Pacific Heights mansion game room, opening Monday in the Marina.
While the decor leans heavily in the direction of thick leather-bound books, dark mahogany and the worn tufted leather sofas of a gentlemen’s club, there are also two pool tables, a regulation shuffleboard and dartboards, so you won’t be frowned upon if you show up ascot-less.
Look for the aforementioned old wood plank facade sign that was looted from a nearby vodka and gin distillery after the 1906 earthquake, and if that doesn’t produce Pavlovian conditioning for a martini, just wait until you walk inside. Then, you’ll be lulled toward the long copper-topped bar to retrieve said martini.
Armed with your drink, you can move to the sofas in the elevated lounge across from the bar, or pass through the library to the back game room to hold court on the shuffleboard table.
And if you’re looking to duck in for a quick beer, they’ve got 10 high-powered, stadium-grade taps—each equipped to fill a glass in less than two seconds.
But you’d settle for two seconds.
Earthquakes and looting in 1906 that led to a bar opening in 2011: let’s drink...
Presenting Reed & Greenough, an upscale cocktail sanctuary inspired by a sign looted during the 1906 quake and stocked with all the classic underpinnings of a swank Pacific Heights mansion game room, opening Monday in the Marina.
While the decor leans heavily in the direction of thick leather-bound books, dark mahogany and the worn tufted leather sofas of a gentlemen’s club, there are also two pool tables, a regulation shuffleboard and dartboards, so you won’t be frowned upon if you show up ascot-less.
Look for the aforementioned old wood plank facade sign that was looted from a nearby vodka and gin distillery after the 1906 earthquake, and if that doesn’t produce Pavlovian conditioning for a martini, just wait until you walk inside. Then, you’ll be lulled toward the long copper-topped bar to retrieve said martini.
Armed with your drink, you can move to the sofas in the elevated lounge across from the bar, or pass through the library to the back game room to hold court on the shuffleboard table.
And if you’re looking to duck in for a quick beer, they’ve got 10 high-powered, stadium-grade taps—each equipped to fill a glass in less than two seconds.
But you’d settle for two seconds.
