Mr. Tipples Recording Studio 

39 Fell St | $$$

 

Mr. Tipple’s Recording Studio is a super clean cut jazz lounge, no actual studio space or live recording. As you walk in, you’re greeted by a friendly hostess sitting in the dim lighting of her table lamp, guarding a dark, burly curtain. A reservation, usually around $15 a person, grants you ninety minutes at your table. Through the curtain, a stage encased in red velvet curtains is presented in front of a multitude of tiny high top tables simply adorned with a black cloth and a candle’s flame.

 

I’ve always been into jazz but have definitely dived in a lot harder within the last few years of living in San Francisco. The genre has infiltrated my morning commutes and hard computer work sessions; no longer tied strictly to date night settings. The times I've been to Mr. Tipples has been in the context of a work outing with my boss and work partners. Featured musicians play the night away with rehearsed original songs, as we subduedly clamoured over our cocktails. We had the best times ever, it’s always one of those nights I step back and think “Woah, I live in a city. Your twelve year old self would be so pumped right now.” The food was so good. The set of our first night was very classic, Ella Fitzgerald type, piano and singer duo. All my people showed up fun, flirty, and fitted in all black. And I remember the food being sooooo good.

 

As I write for a new issue and look back at my best foodie nights, I knew I had to reflect back on my nights at Mr. Tipple’s for two reasons:

1. The June and July thick gloomy fog of San Francisco has given me the summer moodiness. I needed to feel… melancholically LA noir. A
2. The first time I went, someone spoke something to me and the group that became a huge journal prompt for me. 

 

Justin, a musically enthusiastic member of my work, was talking to Aleah Antonio, another music fanatic and hugg editor, about the structure of jazz and jazz theory. The conversation on the battle and love story between instrumental presences on stage eventually led to “jazz is all about tension and release.”

 

Maybe it was too many CBD drinks, or the philosophical atmosphere, but that sentence really struck me. My life is full of tension and release. I’ve always felt tilted thinking about moments in my life as simply good or bad, as it’s all relative. Life is this big gray space we all coexist in and shade ourselves differently throughout. Maybe there’s no good and bad moments. But rather, the moments in my life are tension and release. Conflict and mundane stresses create tension on my body and in my mind. Being surrounded by loving communities and giving friendships provides release. We function on tension and releasing. As we breathe, our diaphragm tenses and releases itself to push air into our lungs for us. Our blood courses through us when our hearts tense and release itself. Tension may not be bad, it may be what propels us to the release.

 

Atmosphere

On my last trip downtown, my group got tickets this time to see the Kurt Ribak Trio, a bassist who writes for himself and the sax and piano player. Half of the set was very 194Os detective solving a crime and smoking a cigarette and half American bossanova-esque songs about bald heads and gin martinis. An absolutely perfect music setting for a food review done over low candle-light. (This is my way of telling you that the photos I have are very poorly lit because I felt it was rude to use flash.) It’s a tad pricey in my opinion. The cover charge pays for the artist playing, the food menu pays for the atmosphere. The sounds of the jazz, small chatter, and aggressive cocktail making at the bar paired with low-lights and red curtains: all together it’s a great atmosphere.

 

My Food Recs:

Chicken Wontons

Roasted Duck & Pork Belly Bao

Mochi Waffle + Earl Gray & Black Sesame Ice Cream 

The Zoto