A few months ago I went with a couple friends on a cocktail tour. We started the night (okay, who am I kidding, more like the late afternoon) at Nopa, whose cocktails are tremendous in their own right. We had ambition, but our itinerary was vague and open to spontaneous revision, as any properly executed cocktail tour should be. So when the bartender at Nopa heard we were on a cocktail tour, he used persuasive speech to convince us that we had to try Alembic, on Haight Street.

Haight Street. Ugh. For the first four years I lived in San Francisco, I lived blocks away from it, and in the sleepy panhandle where my apartment was, Haight St. was pretty much it for staples. I had my first legal drink (Old Granddad) at a bar on Haight St., 75% of my dinners out, and certainly I had to trudge behind gawking tourists every single time I wanted to do any of it. And not just any tourists. Whatever sort of actual counterculture may have dwelt in the vicinity is beyond long gone—there’s not even a memory. It’s like Disneyland for middle class wannabe gutter punk / hippies and Kansans with a fantasy. Anyway, I was dubious.

In a way, though, despite the fact that Alembic is an amazing place, it doesn’t feel like it should be on Haight St. Alli and I say this to each other every time we go. I don’t know where it should be, except that I would continually lobby for a Mission branch out of selfish desire.

There’s a lot I could say about it: the bar snacks and actual dinner menu are exciting, the décor is charming, etc. But the real draw? The drinks. That first night I had a cocktail (no longer on the menu, sadly!) with whiskey and pine needle liqueur. Pine needle liqueur. It started with earth and oak and ended up literally with forest floor. Fantastic.

We went Saturday night and split two drinks. The first was a special, again, not on the regular menu. It featured an aged tequila, bitters, and smoked maple syrup. A terrific thing about Alembic is that by paying attention to their menu and combinations you can really learn a lot about complementary flavors with spirits. A standard on their menu combines a smoky element with tequila, and it really shone again here. For our second drink, we were pressed for time and decided to try one of the 15-20 gins they have on their menu. I told the bartender that I enjoyed floral, aromatic gins like Hendrick’s. He suggested we try Miller’s. A revelation! Impeccably smooth, with a bouquet of pure cucumber. Wonderful.

But after several visits, there is one drink that tops them all, and that is the Southern Exposure. The first time Alli and I had one, all other cocktails crumbled. It touched all the taste zones, and the savoriness and weirdness of the celery makes it 1) eminently drinkable (dangerous)! but 2) probably the most hunger-inducing cocktail possible. The recipe was printed in the newspaper, so I feel okay reproducing it here. We’ve tried it a couple of times with imperfect results—but even the imperfect version of this cocktail is a thing of beauty.

Southern Exposure

Makes 1 drink

• 1 1/2 ounces Junipero gin
• -- Juice of half lime
• 3/4 ounce simple syrup
• 3/4 ounce fresh celery juice
• 7 or 8 mint leaves

Instructions: Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass with ice, shake vigorously for 20 seconds in sixteenth-note triplets. Double strain into chilled cocktail glass, wash your shaker and glass, garnish with single mint leaf, wipe sweaty brow, smile.