At Brother Scott's suggestion, I tried Stubb's. Rather, tried to try it.
Couldn't get in because Sister Inoxidable was with me (a charming photo of her on the right, "From My Cold Dead Fingers"), and Stubb's doors were plastered with the big red "51%." Too bad their website, extensive and informative as it is, doesn't mention that, or we wouldn't have walked the whole way to 8th from this shabby little hotel on the river.
So we ambled back, eyeing all the front doors to every joint from there back to Cesar Chavez, until I gave the hell up and went once more to Ironworks.
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