A Night Out at Liholiho Yacht Club & Louie’s Gen-Gen Room

Marcus Carnero
Nov 7 · 13 min read

By Marcus Carnero

There is an old Chinese proverb that goes, “With true friends even water drunk together is sweet enough.”

Well my friends like to drink rum. And so do I.

So every now and then I’m fortunate enough to get a small group together. In what is usually an excuse to celebrate a birthday is more often than not a bonding of intoxication. A brotherhood of whiskey and libation. Or simply put, an excuse to try something new.

And this time, this time it was Angelo’s birthday…again. Angelo, the yin to my yang. My work wife. One of my oldest friends from work was going to be used as a vessel this evening. A reason for celebration.

Angelo…

Tonight is your night, old sport.

We left from the Antioch BART around 5pm. The plan was to meet up at the park and ride and to take it all the way to San Francisco. And since we were heading to the city and since we would be on Sutter street, it was only appropriate that we stopped by PCH.

Pacific Cocktail Haven is, for lack of a better word, exceptional. It’s everything that is right in bar. It’s crowded. It’s dimly lit. It’s wonderful. And it happens to be owned in part by my dear friend, Kevin Diedrich.

Kevin is to San Francisco Bartending what DiMaggio must be to the Yankees. Anyone in touch with the local bar culture in the city knows that if Kevin and his team at Sidecar Hospitality are behind it, it is absolutely going to be original.

During the holidays I’m even lucky enough to call it my home on cold city nights. The Miracle at PCH Christmas program is a huge attraction every December. And if you’re ever in town you should come by and spread some cheer.

But for the 11 other months, Pacific Cocktail Haven is known for its innovative menu. A nice escape from the madness that is Union Square, this bar knows how to play the hits. An infusion of Asian flavors and Kevin’s travels around the world, you’re not going to have a Jack and Coke in this place.

We were lucky enough to have my friends Rhys and Sarah behind the bar, with Chris and Kevin working on the floor. We were also able to secure a table in the back with ease, something impossible during the holidays. We were even greeted by the man himself. It was pure coincidence that we weren’t a burden. So we just played it cool. Because if there is one thing businesses love, it’s walk-in groups of seven men.

Lucky this place was kind enough to have us. Kevin with a warm greeting proclaimed, “alright, let’s slam Rhys.” I assured him we were under no time constraint and that were out celebrating our friends birthday. He wished us well on our journey and reminded us that he could have been our eighth guest for the Ohana table. He took our drink order and our night had officially begun.

We made it.

In honor of Angelo’s birthday, Kevin even brought out some shooters in miniature golden pineapples. I asked him if he could join us but said he had an early day tomorrow. Modest as always, Kevin failed to mention that his thing in the morning would be a meetings at City Hall where his closest friends and him would be petitioning the city for building rights for his new venture coming soon, Night Market Bar.

He also didn’t mention his own birthday would be in just a few days. Humble is an understatement. This is man who signs of his work emails to us as “janitor”.

The shooters were daiquiris and they were delicious…

And there were more drinks on the way.

We made our way through three rounds and found we had obtained that perfect balance. Buzzed but not twisted. My friends were I for a treat I couldn’t planned myself, for there was Kevin giving us a personal tour of his masterpiece of a menu.

So many of the drinks stood-out. My buddy Eric, who also happens to be my bar manager, noted flavors of calamansi and black sesame.

But the star of the show was the Kinako Sidecar. A brilliant mixture of anko infused Bertoux Brandy, Licor 43, coconut, citrus, and kinako dust.

This drink pays homage to the classic well infusing a new world elegance at its finish.

If you’re ever in that area, I highly recommend it. The second one is even better.

We were properly hydrated and ready to make our fifteen minute walk.

The great thing about Nob Hill is, you really are at the center of things. Known for its luxurious hotels and historic mansions, this area of San Francisco overloads you with culture in every direction you look.

The day was setting and we could not contain our excitement to not be at work. The only thing in our near future was pork belly and tequila.

What first appeared to us as a faint blue beacon in the distance was actually our destination.

We had made it…

Liholiho was our dinner reservation but we had intentionally arrived early to check out the lower level of the restaurant. The historically cool, Louie’s Gen-Gen Room.

Located in the basement and serving as a pub, Louie’s is so much more.

All we had to do was check in. But first, I had to get my Aloha Floor Selfie.

What can be best described as New American bar bites and island inspired cocktails. Louie’s offers a breezy chill vibe. As they like to say, “it’s like a cocktail party at a friends house.” Except this friend has an amazing personal chef and a collection of classic hip-hip spinning at all times.

We made our way down the stairs.

Eric noted right away the playlist. The ambiance of a cruise ships lower level. The retro teal paint. The classic red-brick architecture.

He proclaiming right away, “I could do something this and be fine.” Bursting into spontaneous dance, I could totally relate to his sentiment.

We sat down at an aqua banquette table and ordered as many possible things as they could suggest. There were many of us. And we were all men. And I’m sure, a little annoying. We also had no reservation, which is apparently recommend but we were fortunate. The staff was polite and they seemed to have seen this playbook before so we just played along and gave our best manners.

I noted right then that the bar top was marble like ours at work but with my white tones. It felt like Miami. Though I’ve never been to be Miami.

The boys were having fun and that’s all that mattered. It’s times like these you forget you’re only allowed a certain amount of time to escape. That the line between escapism and overindulgence is a fine one.

But we were fantastic. As my kids would say, the turn up was real.

Who am I kidding? I say that shit too.

I ordered the El Niño. A casual mix of arette tequila, guava, amaro nonino and lime.

It was nine o’clock at night and I was having a swizzle. But it didn’t matter. Because it was damn good and I was fine.

The highlight of the food was the Bone Marrow Butter Waffle. A dish topped with smoked sturgeon and avocado green goddess dressing.

My inner stoner was humming at first bite. It’s not for everyone but it’s definitely for me.

A tip of the hat to the Chef on this one.

On any given night, on any given street there is someone potentially doing the exact same thing as you. Our group wasn’t unique. We definitely weren’t locals. But moments of down-time offer individuals a chance to get to know each other. The chances of us ever being in that exact same place with the same seven of us are our slim. We knew very well that where as our group may not have been unique the collective experience for us personally was.

Joel and Henson — San Francisco, CA (2019)

I can’t recall what lies I was telling that night. But I’m sure they were good. And probably better than any of my truths. Well waiting to be seated I managed to get stoned, ripped and twisted. The great thing about just drinking and not mixing is you know what you’re in for. As much as I had spent the evening chase a high, the fact that I wasn’t mixing any hard drugs or even trying to obtain a feeling as such made my spirits that much more lifted. I’m not like most people in that, I really do have to compensate for my introverted tendencies.

But the great thing about real friends is you never run out of material. I was in no rush to impress them and they were obliged to the same. We were allowing the night to run it’s course and the excitement that was our original plan was about to commence.

Eric Tisoy Parcasio (2019)

For all of its grandstanding, for all of its flare, Liholiho at its heart is family restaurant. Everything from its ohana style tables to its intimate bar seating allows you to be reminded that while you may be in one of the busiest cities in the world, at the moment, you are in anything but in a hurry. The fact the it was nearly ten o’clock at night and we were barely being seated didn’t seem to bother the staff or the kitchen. Which is unheard of in the service industry. It was all smiles.

I don’t think of myself particularly as an organizer but recalling my mood from that specific walk to the table I remember feeling accomplished. We had done it. We talked about and we made it happen. Not everything in life happens in such a desired sequence. But this had. There was no reason to fight it and no reason not to let go. Being open to change and variety can affect your environment. I’ve spent many years doing exactly this. And now here I was with a core group of friends allowing myself the same freedoms and hopefully, if anything, inspiring them to do the same.

If anything is good it’s probably loud. And what I noticed on the way to our table was that they were playing The Clash. I liked the place already. You have to remember that I’m writing from memory and photos. The things that stand out are few but specific. Not for any lack of excitement. Just my general bad recollection…

I know that I noted right away that the first thing I noticed on the menu was “Brentwood corn” and that’s kind of a big deal because our group is from Brentwood and we all work in a restaurant that never seems to utilize the descriptor of “Brentwood” for its corn.

It was a simple salad too. The fact that we ignore its namesake is beyond me. But even when I say “we” I know that I’m not even speaking for myself. What I mean is, it’s a same I don’t have the power to control the menu more where I work because if I did I would utilize what we take for granted and turn it into a thing to be proud of. Brentwood isn’t known for a lot. But as far as farming and agriculture it’s nice to see its roots extend into the city even if it is just one key ingredient in many.

I’m sure I won’t be able to tell you about everything we had. Nor will I tell you about everything that actually happened. It’s just simpler that way. Some times the truth outweighs a good story. And other times none of it really matters. What matters is that we had scallops and we had pork belly. And we were even treated to what some would say is the holiest of comfort foods, …we also had Bao.

For every skeptic that isn’t sure if this is something they would like, Bao is basically along the lines of a steamed bun or dumpling. Known also as Baozi, it comes it many forms but is always a mixture of flour, yeast, sugar, baking powder, milk and oil. I was already three bites in when it was mentioned that this particular Bao was made with beef tongue.

This to me in particular is where executive chef Ravi Kapur shined the most. Not a complicated dish and certainly not something a first timer to beef tongue would order. But presently beautifully with house-made pickles, miso aioli and kimchi the whole thing comes together seamlessly. The meat is incredibly tender and it is something that I wish to have again with a very cold beer in hand.

It was around then I noted that besides Joel, the only other Latino there, I had surrounded myself with all my Filipino brethren. I had even sold the whole night as what I believed to be a dive into South Pacific food. But there was so much more. So many Asian inspired dishes with Hawaiian style flavors that I had lost my need for trying to define what we were actually experiencing.

We had turned into animals. Ray was now eating a whole Maine lobster that had been preserved in black bean sauce with his bare hands. Joel had without me knowing ordered yet another round of drinks and I can recall thinking it a very good thing that my car was nowhere in site of my current location.

And that’s when the plate hit. What the whole evening had originally been constructed around was a picture I had seen of a bowl of spam and rice. Little did I know the spam was house made and even more so that the chef in charge had orchestrated this all with this exact intention. If everything we ate had felt like something that could be found at a block party or with feeding a crowed in mind it’s because Chef Kapur did it on purpose. Learning that the name derives from Ravi’s uncles who use to throw pop-up” parties to pay for their racing supplies back in Hawaii. They would go to the beach, fire up the grill, ice down the beer, and get a band to play. Apparently this all would happen on Liholiho Street. And so spawned the modern LYC.

I’m almost ashamed to admit how much furikake I put on my rice. And it’s okay if that made you chuckle a little because I know how it sounds. But finally I had found a place that loves it as a seasoning as much as I do. Furikake is a dry Japanese used with rice, vegetables, and fish. It typically consists of dried fish, sesame seeds, chopped seaweed, sugar, salt, and monosodium glutamate…it’s amazing. And there’s that Brentwood corn again!

At some point I had tried to switch to wine but was only now pouring it down to was away the saltiness of the dish. I had accomplished my mission and was feeling quite pleased with myself. Because it was then I had remembered that when I called I had mentioned it was going to be a birthday. The friendly staff at LYC had assured me that they would be sure to make note of it. I forgot to tell them that it was going to be a birthday dinner for the most modest man ever.

Even when I pitched Angelo the evening as a birthday dinner for him one of his only questions was, “they’re not going to put sparklers on a cake or something are they”?

To which I responded, “what? Sparklers? On cake? That’s ridiculous.

Well, Angelo. As I promised. No sparklers on cake. You didn’t say anything about not wanting sparklers on some Baked Hawaiian.

If you’ve never had it, it’s in-sane.

It’s a take on a baked Alaska, that comes with caramelized pineapple ice cream and vanilla chiffon.

Congrats, Buddy. I got you.

******************************************

Looking back now as I lay here in bed at home, eating a no-thrills turkey sandwich for dinner, I’m called back to that night. By the food, the friends, the lights, the smells, and the music. It’s November now which for me means the busiest time of year. Which means no fun city trips for food. And no time for family or friends. All in an effort to afford to give a pleasant Christmas and to show how important time is with my family and friends. The holidays are a lot of things. They’re brutal. They’re long. And they’re cold. But Christmas for me is still something enjoyed immensely and I look forward to sharing with you all soon what the madness of December is like for me.

In closing, this is where I shout out my people. Shout out, Sherm. Shout out young Ray. Should out Eric, shout out Henny-do. Shout out Gelo. Shout out to Joel, what up though?

Shout out to the entire Gen-Gen bar and kitchen staff. You were all amazing.

To the wonderful crew that is Liholiho Yacht Club we salute you. We are much obliged and cannot thank you enough for everything.

I’ll be telling everyone…

#getjag

#getgengen

Peace out. Same squad!

-xoxo

10/25/19

    Written by

    Bay Area, CA

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