Revisiting My Old Drinking Haunt Sober
The place looks the same. The coffee was as delicious as always. It’s me who’s different.
It dawned on me the other day that the most interesting thing about moving back to San Francisco after living here 25 years ago is that I never spent much time in this city sober.
I moved here in my early twenties to live with four of my friends from Miami in a flat in the Mission. We were all either unemployed or chronically underemployed, so we had a lot of free time on our hands. Most of that time was spent sitting around our kitchen table watching old Golden Girls episodes, drinking vodka tonics, and then going out to nightclubs where we drank and danced til 2 a.m.
A year after I moved here, I met my first real boyfriend. We met at a martini bar on Haight Street that I went to after work one day with a few new co-workers. I hadn’t yet ventured into the world of martinis, as I still preferred a splash of grenadine or juice in the V&Ts I consumed. But the new boyfriend introduced me to a world of booze straight up, and pretty soon my drink of choice became vodka martinis with three olives or Maker’s neat.
When I left the Mission and moved to my own apartment in the Tenderloin, it was an easy jaunt to North Beach. There, the new boyfriend and I would yuck it up at Vesuvius and occasionally Mario’s Cigar Store, where we’d drink the night away, then get into some random trouble like scaling a building via their fire escapes on our way back to my place. I remember one particular boozy evening where we stumbled into an underground Mah Jong den in Chinatown, much to the horrified looks from the patrons. Booze made me brave. Straight-up booze made me invincible.
Fast forward to my new life. My husband and I moved to San Francisco from New York City in May of 2025. We moved so he could start his new dream job in Silicon Valley. His commuting so we could live in the city was the trade-off. I wasn’t going for Silicon Suburbia, so we settled in our place here, which is about ten times more expensive than my last San Francisco pad in the Tenderloin.
Last weekend, we went on an adventure to North Beach. It was only the second or third time I’d been in my old stomping ground since I moved back. Though the hot Italian butcher that I always flirted with, who used to man the counter, had probably retired, Molinari’s remains the same. It looks the same, smells the same, and still has a line snaking through the store filled with hungry people eyeing the gorgeous deli counter, chomping at the bit for their sky-high sandwiches. We started to wait, but the new me hates lines, so we decided to go grab coffee somewhere.
We ended up going to Mario’s. Another place that is steeped in time. The same old photos adorn the walls, the same crack is still in the tile floor near the table I often grabbed. The bar is slightly more patinated with age.
We ordered lattes and shared a panini. There, it hit me. This was the first time I had ever been to this spot sober. The place looks the same, the coffee was as delicious as always, and North Beach itself looks pretty much as it was, save for some stores gone, and some new joints reopened.
It’s me who’s different. It’s not just that I’d aged a lot since my last voyage there. Or that now I was wearing jeans and my new hat, which we had just scored for free at Grafeo Coffee, instead of something short and sparkly. It was that I was clear-headed and fully present. I was sober in North Beach, having a fabulous time in the light of day, completely and authentically. I wasn’t going to stumble home after this round or feel the need to climb a fire escape illegally to feel alive. I already felt alive. And the best part about the day is that the next day I’d wake up sober, and remember everything.
What’s it been like to revisit old places sober? We’d love to hear in the comments.
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Candi Cane Canncel is a creative from Miami Beach. She traveled the world working on cruise ships teaching cooking classes and hosting seminars on entertaining. Her writing has appeared in Club Sandwich and The Inquisitive Eater, and she’s been featured as an expert on TLC, HGTV, and the DIY Network. You can find her website here and her newsletter at Fab Living & Design.
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I love this, Candi. I still remember my first sober vacation and suddenly realizing: wait - I actually feel really good without alcohol!
My very first sober vacation is coming up in 2 days. I'm nervous but reading this helps. Thank you for sharing.