San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Hot trend: S.F.’s hip but chilly rooftop bars.
Everdene in S.F. latest to greet summer with drinks, blankets
The Virgin Hotel’s rooftop bar Everdene opened in April and is drawing long lines despite San Francisco’s notoriously chilly summer weather.
On an unusually pleasant Tuesday in June, I ventured to San Francisco’s newest rooftop bar, Everdene, after work — a completely unoriginal idea. By 5:30 p.m., every seat was already claimed in the 4,000-square-foot space.
When I left, I asked the bouncer how early I’d need to arrive next time to ensure a spot. He said people often start lining up at 4 p.m., a full hour before the bar opens.
“Everybody wants to be on a roof in San Francisco,” he said.
The popularity of rooftop bars in the city is undeniable. And foolish.
Let’s face the facts: Summer nights in San Francisco are almost always chilly and windy. There are few days per year when these bars make any sense. For the most part, these bars feel like fancy crowns atop new hotels, with high price tags and a specific clientele who can afford them.
Everdene, which opened in SoMa in April in the Virgin Hotels San Francisco, might be the city’s most stylish rooftop bar, with lush greenery, vaguely Asian wallpaper and fancy marble floors. It joins 2018’s Rooftop 25 in Mission Bay as well as 2017’s Charmaine’s at MidMarket’s Proper Hotel and Rooftop at VIA in China Basin, though the latter is limited to events and guests at Hotel VIA. Looking ahead, there are plans to convert San Francisco’s historic downtown Hearst Building into a hotel with a rooftop bar.
Before 2017, San Francisco’s rooftop scene was severely lacking — or entirely appropriate, depending on whom you ask — with just one true option in El Techo in the Mission. It’s a much more casual affair, with Latin American food and a no-frills design aesthetic protected by windscreens.
That Tuesday’s journey to Everdene seemed like an ideal scenario for such an outing: blue skies, no wind, a high of 70 degrees. I walked through the hotel lobby to the crowded elevator and, moments later, stepped onto a marble foyer in full view of Salesforce Tower. The posh playground featured a mix of convertible indoor and outdoor spaces, with a 25-foot wraparound bar and wood-paneled ceiling. Colorful mismatched furniture — plush red couches, semitropical wicker chairs, marble-topped high-tops — delivered fancy fun instead of fancy stuffiness. The pounding bass felt essential to the vibe.
But on the 12th floor, reality set in quickly. My cardigan did nothing to protect me from the sporadic gusts, leaving me searching for a walled-off section of the bar. I stood directly under a narrow panel of a heat lamp and gazed out at the city skyline — err, actually the sluggish commute traffic on Interstate 80 heading to the Bay Bridge.
Other bar patrons — those who knew to line up well before 5 p.m., even on a Tuesday — were much more prepared in their leather jackets, scarves and layers of fleece. On a 70-degree day in June.
A few days later, I checked out Rooftop 25, above Mission Bay restaurant Lusk 25, a less opulent but still classy lounge with market lights and wood paneling. Given that it’s just two stories up, I felt optimistic about the weather for a sunny lunch, but this, too, was unwise. As soon as I placed my table number down, it promptly blew over — and it fell over four more times before my food arrived.
At one point, the wind whipped through the retractable cover, which thundered even louder than the pounding club music. It was the same sort of electronica the DJ played at Everdene, which I will now forever describe as “Look-I’m-at-a-rooftop-bar music.” It doesn’t matter if it’s noon or 5 or 10 p.m. — that is the de facto soundtrack to rooftop livin’.
Back at Everdene, I grabbed a drink at the bar, flagged a server for some tuna tostadas and eavesdropped on tech bros talking about their golf game. I wasn’t particularly bothered by Everdene’s $16 cocktails, overuse of edible flowers or gold lamps that resemble ceiling fans — as if you’d ever need a fan up there! It’s the general sense of elitism and entitlement that rooftop bars seem to foster.
At a rooftop bar, you are quite literally above everyone else. You are looking down at the general public. You can be outside without facing the reality of the streets.
Is it a coincidence that this sleek fleet of rooftop bars arrives when the city’s wealth gap is at an alltime high? When many are constantly talking about San Francisco losing its soul?
But really, it’s the weather. And perhaps I’m wrong here, judging by the line of warmly dressed folks outside Everdene’s elevator every day. I’ll continue to mull it over at ground-floor establishments this summer, where I don’t need to pack a winter coat.