Priest holes and pirate ships: The secrets of Muir Beach's Pelican Inn FacebookTwitterEmail The Pelican Inn, Muir Beach, Calif.Andrew Chamings Any English person visiting San Francisco will hear its name muttered in conversation before too long. “Have you heard about that pub over the Golden Gate Bridge? They have proper pints and shepherd’s pie.” But the mention of Americans trying to build something “authentically British” is normally met with eyerolls by us snooty Brits. I’ve been to the Dickens Fair in Cow Palace, where kids run around and stare at old-timey Victorian sex workers as bearded fellows slap their thighs and sing sea shanties — it does not bring back memories of home. I also used to visit “You Say Tomato,” the now-shuttered British grocery store on California Street, where you could pay $20 for a sad Lincolnshire sausage.