What is it that makes
a bar lovable? Drinks that are heavy
on the sauce? Kitchens that actually
know how to cook? Bartenders that
can make a drink, not just tilt a
tap like any ol' monkey? Each of the
bars listed below gets the "Official
Hungover Gourmet Endorsement",
and we're willing to accept
candidates for our 'Bars
Our Readers Love' page...
This list has been tragically
out of date for some time (see
previous posts). Since arriving
in Baltimore I've been much more content
to hang out at home with my wife and
our dog, sipping a beer on the back
patio or downing a few while checking
out some flicks.
But it's finally time
to get around to picking some bars
that we like alot here in Baltimore,
and one that we might just love.
Frazier's (On The Avenue, Hamden/Baltimore, MD)
I'd been to Frazier's once before for an Atomic Books anniversary event, but that doesn't count as an official sampling. Especially when you get up in the middle of Patton Oswalt's set and leave because you have tickets to a midnight show of EVIL DEAD 2. And before you give me any shit let me just say that I love Oswalt's humor, but we're talking EVIL DEAD 2 here. That and it's not like he's OUT COLD star Zach Galifianakis.
Anyway, it took ever-reliable drinking buddy, SMILE HON editor and THG contributor WP Tandy to get me back to Frazier's and I'm glad he did. Though the place is as smokey as a bar can get and the booths are so small that it's nigh impossible for four grown men to sit in them, Frazier's has a decent selection of beer (including $4 pints of Guinness as well as cans of Natty Boh) and their selection of food is as wide and varied as a bar can possibly muster. Specials last night included Filet Mignon Tips and Liver and Onions (and about a dozen others), alongside pages of more traditional offerings like sandwiches (hot and cold), appetizers (including shrimp and various flavors of wings) and burgers.
In my ever-continuing attempt to satisfy my Double-R-Bar Burger craving I ordered the "Ham" Burger, featuring what was supposed to be deli ham and BBQ sauce on top of a burger. The "deli ham" seemed more like the packaged deli meat I tear up for my dog, but that's what I get for not being more inquisitive. Fresh cut french fries rated above average and the accompanying onion rings were deep fried to the point of desiccation, but I kinda like 'em like that. There's nothing I hate more than chomping through a thick layer of breading and batter only to have my teeth sink into a limp slice of Vidalia that comes out in one long strand.
John
Steven (Thames Street, Fells Point/Baltimore,
MD)
This is definitely a bar that mainly
gets
high marks thanks to its culinary
offerings. Sure, there's a massive
list of beers on tap and in bottles,
but it's the food that many –
including me – love most. The
steamed shrimp are a must any time
you venture in, a garlicky, spicy
bowl of meaty shrimp that I've desperately
tried to recreate at home. I've come
close, but they're never quite
right. If you get the chance to hit
this Fells Point hot spot (which is
deceptively hidden behind a nondescript
facade) on a nice day, be sure to
check out their patio seating and
pray that Cream of Trout Soup is on
the menu.
Duda's
(Fells Point/Baltimore, MD)
My brother-in-law used to live in
Baltimore and knows most of the city's
good bars and cool haunts well. He'd
been raving about this little
corner bar for as long as I've
known him, so during a recent visit
by JT
we decided it was time to check it
out. Sure enough, it's the kind of
bar that I could call home. A good,
not overwhelming, beer selection is
accompanied by an excellent menu of
top-notch bar food. Their legendary
chili is deserving of all the accolades
while the seafood platter of shrimp,
oysters, clams and more was just the
thing for two seafood-loving eaters
with an appetite. I've also heard
raves about their Wednesday night
steak dinner special, so you may want
to make note of that. The best thing
I can say about Duda's is that it's
the kind of place where you'd be more
than comfortable downing a Natty Boh
at the bar and chatting about the
day's events.
Bar
(Fells Point/Baltimore, MD)
I couldn't tell you where this
place is, but I could find it if you
dropped me off in Fells Point. SMILE
HON editor and THG
contributor WP Tandy and I ended
up here one night after dinner and
drinks at The Red Star, an excellent
eatery, though it's not deserving
of "Bars We Love" status.
WPT had been to Bar before and knew
that I'd dig its decidedly down-home
atmosphere. As we approached the door
I was sure it was closed, and from
what I could view from the street
looked like it had been so for some
time. My partner in crime assured
me this was simple camouflage to keep
the riff-raff at bay and we entered
what could have been some Baltimore
resident's dark, dank basement. Vision
of Moe's Tavern came immediately to
mind, though the bartender was more
Selma than Moe. Natty Boh was dispensed
to the bar's sole patron in an ice
cold can, though I was pleasantly
surprised she was able to fish some
chilly cider from the cooler before
she returned to her game of solitaire.
An ancient, water (or something else?)
stained pool table sat in a tight
alcove where my height and bony elbows
put me at a disadvantage. Luckily,
for all our combined time spent in
bars neither Tandy or me will ever
be mistaken for anybody named "Fast
Eddie" or "Fats," so
the games were decidedly even in their
amateurishness. Picture your favorite
crazy uncle's musty basement, with
a warped pool table and a caustic
but funny and oddly pleasant bartender
(complete with dog) and you'll have
a rough idea of what to expect from
Bar. Which, in a town known as Charm
City, is one bar I love.
The
Farmhouse Tavern (Main Street, Doylestown,
PA)
I made some disparaging
remarks about The Farmhouse (inexplicably
referred to as "The Farmer's"
by friends that gather there) in an earlier
review of Doylestown bars. In fact, I
suggested that they seemed "more
interested in seating people for food
than serving beer after beer after beer
to the likes of us." At this point
I'd like to throw a little creamy horseradish
sauce on my foot 'cause this big ol' size
12 needs something to make it easier to
eat!
In the name of good journalism
and fairness we've been trying to sample
the neighborhood bars. How else am I supposed
to deliver an accurate accounting of events
to our faithful readers? Some have been
fine (B. Maxwell's), some have been fun
(Kelly's). And some have been downright
throwbacks to our days of old (The
Amber Inn). Which, frankly, this aging
body sure doesn't need.
What I've discovered over
the course of numerous happy hour and
post-happy hour visits is that the folks
at The Farmer's (now there I go) are quite
content to let you sit there and suck
back beer after beer after beer, toss
money in the juke for a 21-song Madonna
and Meatloaf music marathon, and hold
the kitchen open for a quick snack after
you realize it's been 10 hours and 10
beers since your last friggin' meal!
But, like any great bar
bar -- plants and redone bathroom aside
-- we've found that The Farmhouse attracts
a good class of people. Sure, some families
might come in for dinner and sneer at
the cigar you've been working over for
the last hour, but that's all forgotten
when you meet someone like "Bill,"
the grizzled housepainter-metal-hockey
fan we drank the night away with on a
recent Friday. How can you not love a
guy who: sports a "I'm Not as Think
as You Drunk I Am" t-shirt; can hold
forth on the musical strengths of Slayer,
Led Zep, Cro Mags, GBH, Dead Kennedys,
Meatloaf, The Knack and
Madonna; and knows the finer points of
hockey lore from the days of The Broad
Street Bullies, yet mistakes your girlfriend
and her married pal for a couple of pinball-playing
lesbians! I fear it's a story that will
grow legendary like nights spent with
Uncle
Peg.
The Amber Inn (Doyle
Street, Doylestown, PA)
Finding a good bar here
in Doylestown has been easier said than
done. It seems like most places try and
attract a thoroughly upscale crowd, so
you end up sucking back brews while a
bunch of Yuppie babes on the make munch
Potato Skins drowning in a vat of sour
cream. We thought that -- despite its
name -- Skippy Cilantro's might become
our favorite local, but they shut down
before we really had time to get to know
them. What we needed was a bar bar.
And in stepped The Amber
Inn. The kind of bar that toothless senior
citizens stagger out of while it's still
daylight. The kind of bar where a deep
breath knocks three years off your life.
In other words, a bar bar.
Our first visit featured
all manner of working class dudes seated
around the bar, sporting event specials,
no menus (just placards on the wall),
BIG screen tv and a waitress that poured
a mean black & tan! The best part
was watching the Middle East Peace Accord
press conference while old crones and
working class dawgs fell off their bar
stools.
On visit #2 we became a
main attraction as yours truly had sampled
a wee bit too much whiskey. Longtime readers
know that this results in the mistaken
notion that I can play pool (or stand)
and that everything I say or do is comic
brilliance. Oh yeah, all that plus a wicked
hangover, self-induced vomit, and staying
in bed until noon.
Later visits have resulted
in the lifting of NASCAR posters and ill-advised
stabs at karaoke, including a spoken-word
version of "Beth" and the world's
worst rendition of "The GREASE Medley."
Blue 52/Roosevelt's
(State
Street, Doylestown, PA)
This is the kind of bar
I would never expect to find myself in.
But, surprisingly, my visits there have
been hassle-free, and I've even scored
some righteous glassware if I'm wearing
the right jacket!
Blue 52 is the bar section
of Roosevelt's, a popular D'town eatery.
Owned by a prominent area lawyer, it's
the fave stomping grounds for many of
the area mouthpieces after work and on
the weekend. During the week, you can
usually get a spot right inside the door,
but wait too long on a weekend night and
you'll be pressed up against the door
praying for the end to come. In good weather,
the crowd will spill into the courtyard
between the two. Blue 52 also features
sit-down spots with local jazz upstairs,
but I only get a sampling when I have
to go upstairs and pee.
The tip we discovered, was
to show up at the relatively small Roosevelt's
bar late on Friday night. While their
last call is around 12:30, they stop seating
for dinner around 10:00, and will let
you park your martini-guzzling ass at
one of the dinner booths as long as you're
buying.
The Bloomfield
Bridge Tavern (Pittsburgh, PA)
I come from hardcore Polish
stock...my Mom's maiden name is a mess
of consonants that ends in the prerequisite
"ski." Thank god, 'cause my
Dad is true Scottish-Irish, right off
the boat with a handful of hagis and a
sack of spuds...a meat & potatoes
guy if ever there was one! Frankly, I'll
side with the Warsaw Ghetto side of the
family any day, sucking up plenty of noodles,
cabbage, sour cream, and cucumbers.
The BBT is easily the 'Burgh's
best place for Polish food -- though they'd
been bought out off pierogies last time
I popped in -- and one of the finest,
friendliest bars in the city. Owner Stan
Frankowski bought it back when the place
wasn't so nice and the drug trade ruled.
He cleaned house, brought in his family
to help run things, and created one of
the best places you'd ever want to hang
out.
An evening at the BBT means
nothing less than fine, home-cooked food,
practically any beer that you could be
interested in, and bands every Thursday
through Saturday. And, if you're not into
the finer points of Polack cuisine like
pierogies, hluski, Wedding Soup, or golumpki's,
you can always grab a big filling burger,
fries drenched in cheese, chili, kilebasa
sandwich, or any number of specials!
The Jughandle Inn
(Route 73, Pennsauken, NJ)
This place was much more
in favor a few years ago, when going there
was like a low-rent version of a high
school reunion. Girls I knew in grade
school were still saying "Hi Danny"
(shiver) and sucking face with meatheads
they'd later marry and get punched out
by.
Lately the Jug (conveniently
located across the street from the Riviera
Go-Go Lounge) has fallen out of favor
with the local crowd. Once unable to score
a booth or table, we regularly walk in
and grab seating. Go figure.
Though you'd never go there
for their winning beer selection, the
Jug serves up some of the tastiest Buffalo
Wings I've ever had, checking in with
everything from Mild to Bald Eagle Red
Hot (which make Reps break out into a
massive, amusing sweat).
|
