Here's something you might be interested in.
Me? Napoleon?
I swear. Strangest things happen at the trolley stop at 5th and B.
Tonight I’m just standing, doing the usual thing of hurry up and wait.
But through the cold, that cozy-lookin’ place at 6th and B calls my name.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36950/
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36951/
“Cross over, come in! Warm, happy hour…”
It’s the Sixth Avenue Bistro (1165 6th Avenue, downtown, 619-239-4194).
Got me at a weak moment. I just missed a Blue Line, and it’s getting dark and shivery out here. I look west down C. No sign of no Blue Line. I cross over Sixth, head up half a block.
Inside, you can see people taking coats off, relaxing, laffing. Looks really snug. A group of guys in white shirt tops settles into a booth. Gal at the bar is wrapping her hands around a huge cup brimming with cream. She holds it and smiles a Cheshire Cat smile.
Now I'm hoisting myself up on a bar stool near the banker-looking fellas.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36958/
“That hot drink,” I say to the bartender, Kimmy...
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36952/
“What is it?”
“That’s a Café Napoleon,” she says. “It’s cappuccino with a 2-ounce shot of cognac, and cream and chocolate syrup on top. Six dollars.”
Ulp. But on the other hand, who can resist? I order one.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36953/
And oh man. Hot, heady, with that slightly winey overtaste, disgustingly delicious with the cream and chocolate on top, gut-heating, and just as important, hand-warming.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36954/
Of course, now, seeing I’m here, start wondering about a snack.
“Happy hour?” I ask Kimmy.
“Till seven,” she says, and moves a little stand-up menu my way.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36955/
Everything’s $5. Pot stickers, carne asada nachos, two street tacos, sweet potato fries, carne asada or chicken quesadilla, and buffalo wings. I go for the nachos. Jack, the owner, turns out, brings them in a few minutes.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36956/
Jack and my nachos
I mean, nachos and Napoleon cawfee ain’t the greatest combo, but they’re certainly generoso and mighty filling, both of them.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36957/
“What you should be having,” says Jamie, one of the financial planner guys in shirtsleeves (hey, we are in the Financial District), “is the gumbo.”
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36959/
Jamie
And wow. Kimmy says Jack, the owner, is from New Orleans. Seems this place has won Best Cajun/Creole restaurant in the en-tire County four years in a row! On the 10 News/A-List rankings. Who knew?
Gotta come back.
More soon in Tin Fork.
Me? Napoleon?
I swear. Strangest things happen at the trolley stop at 5th and B.
Tonight I’m just standing, doing the usual thing of hurry up and wait.
But through the cold, that cozy-lookin’ place at 6th and B calls my name.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36950/
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36951/
“Cross over, come in! Warm, happy hour…”
It’s the Sixth Avenue Bistro (1165 6th Avenue, downtown, 619-239-4194).
Got me at a weak moment. I just missed a Blue Line, and it’s getting dark and shivery out here. I look west down C. No sign of no Blue Line. I cross over Sixth, head up half a block.
Inside, you can see people taking coats off, relaxing, laffing. Looks really snug. A group of guys in white shirt tops settles into a booth. Gal at the bar is wrapping her hands around a huge cup brimming with cream. She holds it and smiles a Cheshire Cat smile.
Now I'm hoisting myself up on a bar stool near the banker-looking fellas.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36958/
“That hot drink,” I say to the bartender, Kimmy...
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36952/
“What is it?”
“That’s a Café Napoleon,” she says. “It’s cappuccino with a 2-ounce shot of cognac, and cream and chocolate syrup on top. Six dollars.”
Ulp. But on the other hand, who can resist? I order one.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36953/
And oh man. Hot, heady, with that slightly winey overtaste, disgustingly delicious with the cream and chocolate on top, gut-heating, and just as important, hand-warming.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36954/
Of course, now, seeing I’m here, start wondering about a snack.
“Happy hour?” I ask Kimmy.
“Till seven,” she says, and moves a little stand-up menu my way.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36955/
Everything’s $5. Pot stickers, carne asada nachos, two street tacos, sweet potato fries, carne asada or chicken quesadilla, and buffalo wings. I go for the nachos. Jack, the owner, turns out, brings them in a few minutes.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36956/
Jack and my nachos
I mean, nachos and Napoleon cawfee ain’t the greatest combo, but they’re certainly generoso and mighty filling, both of them.
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36957/
“What you should be having,” says Jamie, one of the financial planner guys in shirtsleeves (hey, we are in the Financial District), “is the gumbo.”
http://sandiegoreader.com/users/photos/2012/dec/13/36959/
Jamie
And wow. Kimmy says Jack, the owner, is from New Orleans. Seems this place has won Best Cajun/Creole restaurant in the en-tire County four years in a row! On the 10 News/A-List rankings. Who knew?
Gotta come back.
More soon in Tin Fork.