St. Francis Fountain
2801 24th St.
San Francisco, CA
This innovative city on the cutting edge that first introduced the world to taxpayer funded sex changes and “needle exchange programs” is now considering handing out free crack pipes to its drug addicted welfare dependents.
Since, in the minds of Left Coast leftists, shooting heroine and smoking crack are not character flaws but rather agnostic lifestyle choices, you and I have an obligation to pay for our neighbors’ vices.
But they will ship you off to San Quinten if you so much as light up a cigarette or utter a disparaging word about Ellen DeGeneres.
The day California slides into the Pacific Ocean can’t come soon enough for me.
But even I have to admit these liberal creative types can concoct a good idea every once in a while.
Holy guacamole! Where has this idea been my entire life?
I’ve always likened Guinness to drinking alcoholic chocolate milk.
Since Guinness is nitrogenated rather than carbonated, the Irish beverage of choice lends a silky, creamy mouthfeel that goes down as smooth as milk.
The roasted dark malt and low alcohol content lends a touch of sweetness.
So pouring a freshly opened nitrogenated can of Guinness over some homemade vanilla ice cream might just be the best idea Californians have come up with since they decided to recall Governor Gray Davis.
Witnessing the chemical reaction as the nitrogen interacted with the ice cream was more entertaining than a Tenderloin District sex show.
A swirl of twirling ice cream, frothing black liquid, hissing nitrogen and foaming tan head tantalized my senses.
Impatiently I waited for the show to settle before dipping my straw into the cauldron.
The first few gulps yielded a bracing alcohol kick. Like the kind of jolt you get when your mind is expecting one thing -- but gets something very different.
I think my eyes were fully expecting the sweetness of a milk shake but my taste buds got a beer instead.
The bitterness of the beer flavored ice cream morphed as it melted into ice cream flavored beer.
I thoroughly enjoyed the transformation from bitter ice cream to sweet creamy beer.
With a buzz.
There’s not much alcohol in a 14 ounce can of Guinness, but my brain was so mixed up I think the confusion heightened the buzz.
Of course slurping all that deliciousness through a thick straw in six minutes flat might have been a contributing factor also.
Fortunately, St. Francis Fountain offers real sustenance in addition to ice cream and Guinness floats.
I definitely needed it considering my beverage/dessert of choice.
The Baltimore BLT offered a Left Coast twist on the lunch counter standby -- fresh avocado squeezed between the thick bacon and lettuce and tomato.
The avocado quickly morphed into a messy slippery guacamole condiment after a few bites.
I have absolutely no clue why a BLT with avocado served in San Francisco would be named after a city in Maryland.
The homemade macaroni and cheese on the side was much more interesting. Big goops of gooey cheese were sweetened by onion.
This stuff puts mom’s Kraft-from-the-box mac and cheese to shame.
Good simple comfort food is what you would expect -- and what you get -- at this nearly century old neighborhood sofa fountain where local Mission District hipsters wander in for a taste of home or of nostalgia -- or of reality -- something in desperately short supply in this city.
They don’t sell clean needles or crack pipes at St. Francis Fountain. But they do sell the collector’s cards of your childhood by the front door.
A pack of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” cards, anyone?
How about some of those rare “Welcome Back, Kotter” cards?
St. Francis Fountain is all the pleasures of childhood in one tiny shop.
Plus Guinness floats.
Sometimes you have to grow up to discover the best pleasures of all.
Rating: Seriously Thought About Buying Shirt