Their only sign is an illuminated painting of that which the bar is named for: Samuel Beckett’s head.
Our kind of place.
Small, friendly; the menus are embedded in thick hardback German biographies of Beckett, and divided into categories:
- Clear & Classic
- Fine & Fresh
- Fresh & Funky
- Herb & Floral
- Creamy & Candy
- Light & Low
- Drink & Drive
We would say more, but the night was a bit of a blur. We remember a string of very good drinks and the company of a pleasantly garrulous Irishman and some fellow San Franciscans; tramping through the snow to find the U-Bahn closed; then wisely locating and consuming Doner Kebap.
We recognize that all of this is singularly unhelpful in evaluating Becketts Kopf. But it’s what we’ve got to work with.
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