everyone needs a vacay, so i decided to pack up the fernet wagon and take this show on the road. seattle is but a drop in the apertif ocean, so i headed down to the american capitol of fernet: san francisco. some say that fernet’s american resurrection started back in 2005 with the sf weekly article, “the myth of fernet“, or you can date as far back as bill cosby’s 1973 fat albert recollection of how fernet saved him from a certain sparrow. either way, there’s truth in numbers at r bar in san francisco’s nob hill precinct. despite grossing the highest fernet sales in the country, i was surprised by its demure exterior. when i saw the eagle bar mats and a ledge of fernet bottles spanning the storefront, i knew i was home. the night only got better from there: 12 drinks later, i asked the friendly (and not to mention easy on the eyes) bartender for our bill. he looked at me, furrowed his brow, and then pointed at me as he said, “$30”. now, im not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but my conscience was screaming when i replied, “no, for all of us”. he remained steadfast in his original quote, and to this day, im not sure if he honestly managed to overlook the slew of drinks he served us, but i have a feeling that r bar would be out of business by now if that was the case. i guess there is truth in numbers, no matter how far off they are.