When I first dreamt up Heart, about four years ago now, I envisioned a tiny, carefully curated wine shop with a few wines available by the glass and some snacks. My friends could come hang out there, and I’d play Wu-Tang on the stereo as we shot the shit and maybe I sold some bottles of wine every now and then.

After I spent a while learning about San Francisco’s archaic alcoholic beverage license laws, I realized that Heart would have to be more of a restaurant if I wanted to open it in the Mission. And the Mission was the only place I would consider opening it. My favorite street to walk in San Francisco (or perhaps any city for that matter) is 24^th Street. The smell of bacon-wrapped hot dogs and fresh tortillas mingling with that of freshly-ground espresso beans, the cacophony of sounds in different languages, the colors of the murals on the buildings. That was the community I wanted for Heart.

So, I came up with my take on an Italian osteria, a place where you could “have a simple meal” and “drink a glass of unique wine made by a quirky European family,” according to the letter I sent to everyone who lived within 500 feet of Heart on October 2, 2009. That was a nice idea. My quaint, European wine bar cum restaurant.

But it wasn’t totally me. And as tends to happen with kids, or pets, or businesses, Heart took on a bit more of my character than I originally intended. From day one, it became a chaotic, fun, stubborn, intense place with a serious, sometimes detrimental contrarian streak. And it hasn’t changed since. It’s like I built a train, and that train found its track, and since then I’ve been riding on the roof, holding on for dear life.

I’ll never forget our soft opening, which was on Saturday, January 23. I sent private invitations to about 100 people or so, told them there would be a little party with free wine and food. Over 600 people showed up for the party, the place was like a fucking sardine can, and we ended up giving away over $5,000 of inventory that night, which took a serious chunk out of our opening wine list. Kitchenette must have made hundreds of those little meatballs they do (delicious), and I didn’t even get to try a single one.

We only had one bartender the whole night – Robbie Adams, Heart’s current General Manager and longest-serving employee. Robbie and our two other newly minted servers somehow served every single person in the crowd that night. I was amazed when they didn’t all quit the next day.

Since then, we’ve gone through a lot of changes, but the basic idea has stayed the same. Heart is unyielding and controversial. That’s probably taken a chunk of money out of my pocket, opportunity cost speaking. But it’s also why I love this place so damn much. I’m the kind of person where everything is black or white, love or hate, the best or the worst.  Moderation bores me. When I realized that almost everyone either loved or hated Heart, I knew it was a success, at least to me. So many restaurants and bars are carbon copies of carbon copies of concepts, just palimpsests of someone else’s idea, and all I really wanted to create was something unique, with a real sense of character. And for better or worse, I think we did that.

I know a lot of people wished that we served all our wine in stems and didn’t make you ask for them, had seating along the gallery wall, accepted reservations and wrote normal wine descriptions that included flavor descriptors like “jammy” instead of something resembling Dadaism. But the point of Heart was never to please everyone. And I’m glad we never did.

As many of you already know, Heart will be closing on December 10. The reason for this is a selfish personal decision. After four years in San Francisco, I will be moving back to New York in the spring. Partly it’s because my girlfriend and I want to be closer to our families and friends and East Coast roots. And partly it’s because Heart has accomplished all the goals that I had for it, and I’m ready for new challenges.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about this, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also incredibly sad. The process of opening and running Heart has been the most challenging, maddening, enjoyable, rich experience I have ever had, and I am going to miss it immensely. Most of all, I am going to miss all of you. The people who love Heart, who bought into this crazy idea of mine, have always been the best part of this business for me. There is nothing more inspiring than watching people get behind something you created.

So, the point of this letter is for me to say one thing: thank you. I couldn’t have done any of this without you, and I won’t ever forget that. Heart is nothing without all of you.

Thank you.

Please come say goodbye sometime over the next two weeks. The last week will be pretty much a non-stop farewell party, and we’d love to see you there.

Sincerely,

Jeff Segal

Who’s ready for Poutine Friday? Yeah, this Friday, all night long. An entire menu of poutine(s). All with wine and beer pairings. You and your arteries better get ready.

Here’s the menu:

okra | tomatoes | green chili chutney | house paneer  $7.-

black mussels | saffron fumet | cherry tomatoes | fromage  $12.-

smoked beef navel | eggplant | lemongrass | turmeric | thai basil | cheese curds  $9.-

pork belly | king trumpet mushrooms | pork & bacon broth | green onions | fresh bean curd   $9.-

See you soon.

- Heart

There will be many more details to come shortly, but for now, expect appearances from Linden Street Brewery, Dying Vines Brewing, Dashe Cellars, El Taco Bike and many more.

510, showing you how it’s done.

If you don’t know what poutine is, read this (from Wikipedia):

Poutine (/puːˈtiːn/; Quebec French pronunciation [putsɪn]) is a dish consisting of French fries topped with fresh cheese curds, covered with brown gravy or sauce and sometimes additional ingredients.

Poutine is a diner staple which originated in Quebec and can now be found across Canada. It is sold by national fast food chains, in small “greasy spoon” type diners (commonly known as “cantines” or “casse-croûtes” in Quebec) and pubs, as well as by roadside chip wagons (commonly known as “Cabanes à Patates”, literally meaning “Potato Shack”). International chains like McDonald’s, A&W, KFC and Burger King also sell mass-produced poutine in Canada. The dish may include additional ingredients such as lobster meat, rabbit confit, caviar, and truffles.

Hell yes, see you soon.  And get ready for some wicked Canadian cultural references.

Alright, well, it’s time.  The Summer of Riesling is upon us.  A newcomer to the West Coast (it’s okay San Francisco, you’re still pretty innovative), Summer of Riesling was started in 2008 by the henchman of New York wine bar Terroir, Paul Grieco.  I still remember that summer well, which is somewhat surprising, considering I spent most of it drinking Riesling at Terroir, which was a block away from my apartment and had better food.

Well, now we get Summer of Riesling ourselves, and we’re going to make the most of it.  Beginning Wednesday, June 22, we’re going to always be pouring at least three Rieslings by the glass.  We’ll have Rieslings from Germany, Austria, Alsace, Australia, New Zealand, New York, Tasmania, and some other places, too.  We’ll have old Riesling and young Riesling.  Bone dry Riesling and grandma sweet Riesling.  And all of it will be happy to see you (and your dinner).

We’re launching Summer of Riesling with a party on Wednesday.  Join us for a literary event, put on by Litquake, that will feature readings from authors Seth Harwood and Anne Marino.  Harwood’s novel, Young Junius, is a gritty, urban crime drama (think an austere, knife-edged, gravelly Austrian Riesling), and Marino’s novel, The Collapsible World, is a postmodern, dysfunctional family epic, with attitude to boot (think a complex, concentrated, spice bomb Mosel Riesling from Knebel).  We’ll also be playing German Expressionist films on our projector all night long.

“You fools, this man is plotting our doom! We die at dawn! He is Caligari!”

Get thirsty.

We were surprised by the 2009 Clos Cibonne Cuvée Spéciale des Vignettes Rosé. It’s one of the best roses we have ever tasted, but, at the same time, it also lives within its own little realm. Made from 100% Tibouren (60 year-old vines on Schist soils), near the Mediterranean coast in Provence, it’s aged under a film of yeast (like Sherry) in 100 year-old barrels. Which helps explain why this wine is so different. The color of pomegranate juice, it smells like fresh roasted almonds, apple juice, and an herb bouquet you’d throw into a chicken roast. And the taste is, well, surprising. It has intense concentration, but stays light on its feet. It’s nutty, salty, spicy, savory and red-fruity, and it combines all those with an effortless grace. It’s the kind of wine that feels wrong to write about, like trying to explain a Rauschenberg piece in a paragraph. So, we’re going to stop now. Just come drink it. We can’t promise you’ll be surprised. But you’ll probably like it.

Well, he hasn’t been to our new Sunday Suppers yet.   We’re working with Isabel Cuadillo’s El Buen Comer, which is putting out some of the best (real) Mexican food there is, anywhere (El Buen Comer’s website).

All of Isabel’s food tastes like home-cooked Mexican, in the best way possible.  Her menu rotates weekly, and every week, it’s awesome.  Below is the menu for this Sunday:

And best of all, we’re there to provide you with wine and beer pairings galore for Isabel’s dishes.  Think wine doesn’t go with Mexican food?  Ask us, and we’ll prove otherwise.  After all, you’re not really living until you’ve had guisado and Riesling before…

See you Sunday.

And what are we doing for beer week? Well, with the help of our good friends The Monk’s Kettle, we’re doing Frickin’ Firkin Tuesday, on Tuesday, February 15th from 5pm until 11pm.

And what’s that, you ask? Well, our boys The Monk’s Kettle will be offering you the chance to experience “real ale,” beer served from casks.  We will have nine firkins (gravity-poured 10-gallon casks that will sit on the bar) from eight different breweries: Ballast Point’s Sculpin, a Bourbon-barrel aged Imperial Stout from Lagunitas, Moonlight Brewing’s Twist of Fate, Moonlight’s newest release Two Weeks Notice , Stillwater’s Existent (on the night of its West Coast release), Rubicon’s Irish Red, Linden Street’s Burning Oak Black Lager, Highwater’s Retribution Imperial IPA, and one TBA by Bear Republic.

Chef Adam Dulye will be preparing a killer menu to be paired with the beers—all food items will be small plates and will cost $5.  All items, both beer and food, will be offered a la carte.  There is no cover charge, but this event is cash-only, dude.

Cool, see you there.

-Heart

So, got big plans for Valentine’s Day? Looking for a quiet, romantic place to take your sweetheart and show him/her how much you truly care? Hunting for candles and rose petals and chocolate cake?

That’s great. We’re happy for you. But don’t come here. We hear they’re still taking reservations at __________.

If, instead, you’re looking to rock out with your quasi-significant other, or meet some random who you hope could one day become significant, we have a party for you…

On Valentine’s Day, also known as Monday, February 14, we’re throwing the Lovers Rock Ball. From 6:00pm to 11:00pm, come and get romanced by our Lovers Rock musical stylings (see here – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lovers_rock), drink some really good wines and beers that ought to put you in a dubby mood, and eat some island-influenced cuisine that will set your tongue on fire (and help you impress your date).

No cover (per usual), no dress code, just come and be happy.

One Love,

Heart.

A year ago today, we opened our doors to the public, and hoped we would at least last long enough to see some better weather. Well, we did (although the weather is debatable).

In the past year, we’ve switched from one type of mason jar to another (sorry, stemlovers), changed our style of service, cycled through a fair number of employees, learned the limits of our Vatican City-sized kitchen and bar, and had our laptop stolen by a senior citizen. We had two customers simultaneously scream at a server, “go get our goat now!” We broke more than a few appliances, many more bottles of wine, and even more glasses. Yes, mason jars break.

But one thing that hasn’t changed is that the reason we open our doors everyday is because our customers are amazing. We love you all. And without a doubt, the best moments of the past year have been the times when we’ve connected with you over some wine, beer, sake, sherry and/or food. Hopefully, all of the above.

So, the point of this E-Mail is to say…thank you.

And, if you so desire, please join us tonight for a little shindig. We’ll be celebrating by resurrecting some menu classics like the original fibrillation and the goat shank, and by drinking copious amounts of wine from magnums of really good stuff. Same place, same time, just a night for us to pay tribute to you.

-Heart

A little more than a year ago.

A wine bar?