Remembering Steven Liles

In 2017, Steven Liles—a career bartender then working at Smuggler’s Cove in San Francisco—was named Bartender of the Year as part of that year’s Imbibe 75.

Liles, who passed away this week after a brief and sudden illness, was a bartender’s bartender. Behind the bar, he demonstrated the kind of chatty effortlessness mixed with technical proficiency that can only be developed over years of dedicated practice, and through a true love of the profession. And even though he helmed one of the world’s foremost tropical bars for more than a decade, his own tastes, and his character, invariably led him back to his core cocktail, the dry Martini.

Steven Liles loved the bar, and he loved San Francisco—and his guests, and his city, loved him right back. 

One day shortly before Christmas in 2016, I called Steven at home to tell him he’d been selected as our Bartender of the Year. After I broke the news, he started laughing, and I could picture him at the other end of the phone, rubbing his forehead and shaking his head. 

The choice created blushing discomfort to his sense of modesty. Steven never wanted the limelight, and he studiously avoided the kind of self-promotional brand-building that’s become ubiquitous in the world. He simply wanted to do his job, and do it well—making people happy, mixing great drinks, and making every day wonderful for everyone around him. That, in short, is what made Steven Liles one of the greats, and our rationale for naming him Bartender of the Year.

I interviewed Steven Liles for that Imbibe 75 issue on October 5, 2016. Excerpts from that interview appeared in our January/February 2017 issue. The entirety of his responses during that interview (lightly edited for clarity and context) appear below.

Much love, Steven. We miss you already.

Steven Liles:

I started bartending in 1998. I was born in Compton, and grew up in the Mojave Desert. When I was 30, I started bartending—I was living in Santa Rosa at the time, and was in the coffee business up there. I decided to shift to bartending, and went to the city to start. 

When I turned 21, I was told to stop drinking—I had some serious health problems that were self-inflicted. I stopped drinking for a few years in my 20s, and then…I’m a history fan and was reading a lot of California history, and got into Prohibition stuff—so I decided that instead of drinking a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, I would have a Martini or two. That was 1994 or 1995, just at home, I bought myself a beautiful bar that I still own, and entertained friends. I worked in a coffeehouse in Santa Rosa, and one day a friend said, ‘Why don’t you do that for a living?’ The only thing I knew was chain restaurants and dive bars.

My first job was Fisherman’s Grotto on Fisherman’s Wharf. (I went to bartending school.) They had a treasure trove of old liqueurs—maraschino and Crème Yvette that had been sitting in their liquor room for decades. So I was able to do the drinks there, but also play around with what I’d learned from reading. This was around 1998. 

I worked at Crustacean from 1999 to 2004, then Boulevard, briefly at Presidio Social Club, Orbit Room, Carta (now closed). I worked at Clock Bar, taking over from Marco [Dionysos] when he left. And I’ve been at Smuggler’s Cove since 2010—about six months [after the bar opened]. 

“I like keeping moving, and a little bit of chaos. And that fits bartending.”

Part of [bartending] is personality—I’ve always been a sled-dog worker. Every job I’ve done, I’ve been the guy who puts his head down and wants to motor. I don’t like sitting at a desk. I like keeping moving, and a little bit of chaos. And that fits bartending. 

I spent my teenage years and my 20s not knowing what I wanted to do with myself, doing a lot of odd jobs all over the map. I worked coffee, and that was great, but you don’t make much money. And when I gave bartending a shot, I realized it was perfect for me—my mentality, my intelligence, my restlessness. It’s hard for me to picture doing anything else. 

Some people are owners, some are renters, and I’m a renter. Someday I might [own a bar], but it’s never been a goal of mine. I’ve never owned a house or a car, it’s just not something I think about. 

[Smuggler’s Cove] is the hardest job I’ve ever done. Most of my fine dining was in volume—Boulevard and Crustacean, the latter did 500 covers on a Saturday night. It takes attention to detail, while being focused on every movement around you. You can’t fixate on anything—you have to let your body and mind work together and get through it all. It’s a hard thing to do—it’s hard to be precise in making cocktails, and do it very quickly when you have 30-40 people wanting to get in and get that drink. The volume I do now, especially on a Saturday night, is ridiculous. 

It’s an intense amount of stress, that doesn’t get released for a very long time. Even on the slower nights, you’re still constantly, constantly serving, and looking at what the next seven steps are. You have to plan out what you’re doing not just at the moment, but what the next seven to 10 steps are—who’s next to be taken care of? Who needs checking on? Catching up on the register and making sure everything is rung in. 

[Query: Where do you like to go around town on a night off?] 

PCH [Pacific Cocktail Haven], go see Kevin Diedrich, he’s wonderful. Jacques [Bezuidenhuit]’s my best friend, so I’ll find him at Forgery or Wildhawk. If I’m in a fancy, fine-dining mood I’ll head out to Spruce, which I think is one of the prettiest fine-dining restaurants and the service is so beautiful. I’ll even head out to Oakland, to Rock Ridge Improvement, Miranda, or Drexl.

[Re: His omnipresent hat] 

There was a period in my late teens/early 20s when I grew my hair out. But I was a mod kid when I was 14, so even before I started bartending, I was wearing Trilbys and fedoras. I didn’t ever wear a hat behind the bar until the Cove. There’s a part of me that says ‘no hats behind bars,’ but it fits the feel of the Cove. It fits the vibe of the place. And I wear a hat everywhere.