By Camille Cusumano
A city that has been shaking up its residents since its birth more than two hundred years ago is bound to inspire the phantasmagorical. Some of it might even be based on fact. Make no bones about it, San Francisco sits on shifty ground and, well, some old bones. There are plenty of restless spirits, mostly harmless, if not friendly. Just hear the cry of that foghorn, so human, so mournful. Aside from two historic cemeteries — in the Presidio and Mission Delores, there are no official burial grounds in the city.
Maybe that’s why some old restless souls don’t die, they roam North Beach and drop in to their favorite haunts. That might be your conclusion after a rollicking three-hour North Beach Gourmet Ghost Tour with Stretchypants guide Robert Magee.
Twelve of us hungry ghost seekers met in the 1906 San Remo Hotel on Mason Street. We were seated in the Godfather alcove of the hotel’s Fior d’Italia restaurant. Chilled Italian white and rich red wines were poured into our stemware. A Caesar salad appeared, along with crusty bread and sweet butter, lusty olive oil, followed by sassy gnocchi, and crispy calamari. Perfect entree for what promises “a feast for both the palate and the spirit.”
The “fusion of food and phantoms” was off to a mouth-watering start. And what a perfect setting in the San Remo, which was built in 1906 to house laborers rebuilding the devastated city after the earthquake and fire. If the walls in its Victorian-era rooms could talk, they might explain some of the eerie appearances of a restless spirit of a double homicide in 1911.
It’s a classic story of a jilted lover crashing the bride’s wedding, killing two men enjoying the reception, guests of the newlyweds. Ah, what intrigue! There was a shooter, follow-up reports of animated shadows, and some character known as the “running ghost.” The luscious cuisine eclipsed the spooky details, which anyway are best left to the fascinating narration of our host, Robert.
I was gluttonously eyeing Fior d’Italia’s next dish, herbed shrimp, as Robert regaled us with another resident ghost, the Painted Lady. This brothel madame who died in Room 33 many decades ago has appeared to observant viewers, her ravaged countenance always the same, superimposed on a painting.
Hmmm . . . pass the shrimp, please, I think madame stole one of mine.
Our progressive dinner proceeded up the street to an address on Mason no longer there. The San Francisco Chronicle actually reported on this ghost. You can read an in-depth report on it about the week in 1871 when “San Francisco Went Loopy Over ‘Haunted’ Windows.” To see the ghastly image of the ghost that many saw you’ll have to search the Chronicle’s library archives—or get on Robert Magee’s tour—he’ll produce it on his cell phone. The visage belonged to the husband of the widow who lived at that address. It reminded me of the man in Oscar Wilde’s “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” who makes a Faustian bargain to keep his youth but ends up really creepy looking. Horrible.
In the short Jasper Alley, we heard Barbary Coast tales of kidnapped sailors—and learned that is where the term “shanghaied” comes from. Old salts don’t die, they get spirited away to Shangahi—at least back in those lawless times.
We passed the city’s iconic busty topless dancer Carol Doda’s angelic mural on Columbus Avenue at Via Bufano. Doda made the Condor Club on Broadway (no pun intended) famous. I recalled her sexy promo for a local TV station back in the 1970s. Her bouffant blond head breathlessly would chant “the Perfect 36” — the call number for that UHF (Ultra-High Frequency) channel she represented. I feared I might be the only one who remembers that stone age platform. So I didn’t share that tit-bit (pun intended).
At the Condor Club, we paid homage to Doda who went on to become a respected talk show host. Doda’s famous act involved her being lowered from the ceiling on a hydraulic piano. No one could foresee that piano would, in 1983, be the death of James Ferrozzo—a sort of cautionary tale not included in our tour. Ferrozzo was crushed between the accidentally rising piano and the ceiling while deep in the heat of after-hours sex. As far as we know, Ferrozzo, body and soul, stays put in the beyond. Thankfully.
There were many more pleasant ghost tales and the tour re-ignited my civic pride. Having lived in San Francisco since 1973, I knew many of the standard yarns of the Barbary Coast’s lawless gold-seeking days, Alcatraz’s escapees who were never found, Chinatown’s Tong wars, and the Presidio. I had sat in North Beach cafes, a few still surviving, with now-gone Beat poets and writers. I had read Mark Twain’s Roughing It, Ben Tarnoff’s The Bohemians, and David Talbot’s Season of the Witch. Ghosts of a different color, to be sure, but you could say I was jaded.
Robert Magee had done his due diligence. He assiduously told our group the cold facts as well as that which cannot be scientifically proven—the reported, similarly oft-repeated ghost experiences of people based on the facts. He added many new tales to my “crypt,” about the beyond, updating my staid repertoire of city mythology.
My only regret is having consumed so much of Fior d’Italia’s excellent cuisine. By the time we got to Mario’s Bohemian Cafe, 566 Columbus, I was pretty sated. But I can never resist Mario’s eggplant panini. I have been frequenting the cafe since 1977 when Mario and Liliani Crismani were still alive, occasionally serving. The cafe is still in the Crismani family but I miss Liliani’s fabulous cassata. The foccacia bread is scrumptious as ever. I’m inclined to trust the spirits of the late Mario and Liliana ensure their standards are kept.
At Mona Lisa restaurant, 353 Columbus, ghost tales had ebbed. And my appetite should have too. But the Margherita pizza with thin crust and melty mozzarella served with a deep purple Barolo were too enticing to pass up. From there we strolled, I could say rolled, over to Cavalli’s and although I said no more! to the heavenly tiramisu, one bite followed another. Next thing I knew I was considering licking the plate.
It’s almost Halloween when ghosts and goblins like to take front and center stage. We like to let them. So put on your costume, gather up your ghost-busting paraphernalia and don’t forget to bring a big appetite on a North Beach Gourmet Ghost Tour. Stretchypants’s North Beach: Gourmet Ghost Tour 5:30pm on Thursdays and 4pm on Saturdays.
BATW Member Lisa Alpine gathered quotes from other BATW members who’ve gone on the Stretchy Pants tour:
“I loved the friendly style of the guide. I felt less like I was listening to someone regurgitate info about the neighborhood and more like I was walking with a friend through North Beach. I loved the sandwiches at Mario’s and the gnocchi at Fior d’Itlaia. My waistband was definitely stretched —- in a good way!”
—Kimberley Lovato
“Discovering on the Ghost Tour that some restaurants I thought were tourist traps instead are favorites of locals for a reason…authentic Italian food in cool atmospheres…which was scary this travel writer did not know that!”
—Ruth Carlson
“The favorite part of my tour was our dine-a-round stop at Mario’s Bohemian Cigar Store Café in North Beach. It’s always been a funky favorite of mine and the Stretchy Pants folks staged a coup by securing a primo outdoor table for us, along with a slice of Mario’s zingy eggplant panini. The landmark cafe buys their focaccia from Liguria Bakery, which saves diners from having to stand in those long bakery lines each morning.”
—Ginny Prior
“Stretchy Pants tour of North Beach stretched my knowledge of which restaurants and cafes to hit when guests arrive in town. Loved Mario’s eggplant focaccia but SP’s intro to the Mona Lisa restaurant on Columbus dripped with Italy from the ceiling murals and the open hearth cook site mid room. Mona Lisa’s pizza is amazing. Watching the chefs deliver gorgeous dishes with welcoming enthusiasm adds this delightful dining space to the top of my SF must visit list.”
—MJ Pramik
“As a Stretchy Pants Tour Guide, and a proud member of Bay Area Travel Writers, I was so happy to introduce BATW members to our favorite spots for fantastic food and deliciously haunting spectral stories. In the heart of the historic, infamously dangerous Barbary Coast, North Beach is so rich in history and has always been part of the cultural zeitgeist of San Francisco. Was such a joy to share this experience with my fellow writers and global explorers – because sometimes we can rediscover cultural treasures with tours in our own backyards!”
—Marcy Clark Stretchy Pants Food Tour Guide
editor of Visionary Mafia and founder of Marcy Clark PR & Events.
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Great article! Highly recommend this tour to travel writers and anyone who wants to know more about my favorite part of SF–North Beach