dive bars – Baltimore Magazine

The Baltimore Museum of Industry Celebrates the City’s Historic Corner Bars

Lydia Woolever — Mon, 19 Feb 2024 16:15:17 +0000

—Photography by Mike Morgan

There’s the long creak and sudden bang of a screened door as you enter the hottest new bar on Key Highway. To get there, first, you must walk through the corner store, over the black-and-white porcelain tile, past the fading boxes of McCormick spices and 25-cent cans of Eastern Shore tomatoes. But there in the back, beneath the tin ceiling, two chandeliers dangle above a few dozen beer bottles, beckoning visitors to come in and stay awhile.

The only other person in the place is Rachel Donaldson, who on this Thursday afternoon, just before happy hour, bellies up to the oak bar that she helped build for the latest permanent exhibition at the Baltimore Museum of Industry, “The Neighborhood Corner Bar,” which opened to the public this past October.

A former Upper Fells saloon, now home to Little Donna’s.

The adjacent grocery’s Maryland-made goods. —Lydia Woolever

“Everything you see here is an artifact,” says Donaldson, the museum’s new curator, with the exception of the brass-railed bar top, which is a prop hand-built by volunteer John Reuter.

The “Corner Bar” exhibit was Donaldson’s first big project upon arriving at the BMI in 2022. The New York native and former College of Charleston professor comes to the museum with an extensive background in labor and working-class history—both areas of study that are deeply entwined in the iconic corner bars of Baltimore.

“These spaces were a lot more than just drinking establishments,” says Donaldson, who focuses on the period of 1870 to 1920—essentially the Industrial Revolution until Prohibition. “This was a time when bars were referred to as workingman’s clubs. They were third spaces that did a lot for working-class notions of community and masculinity.”

Back then, these men’s-only saloons were vital social hubs. Often sponsored by one of the city’s number of booming breweries—American, Globe, Monument, National—they had surprisingly refined digs, usually featuring a long standing-room bar where waterfront, railroad, and factory workers could find solace from poor housing conditions, 14 hours a day year-round. With the purchase of a five-cent house beer, patrons got a free lunch, the local newspapers, access to public bathrooms and telephones, conversation about sports and politics, and general camaraderie. Babe Ruth’s family owned a few of these bars. H.L. Mencken was a regular.

“These bars were often talked about as being the most democratic spaces, because you didn’t have to be wealthy, you didn’t have to pay dues—and for the white, male working-class, they were,” says Donaldson, noting that the local brewing industry was bolstered by an influx of German immigrants. “But if you were a person of color, you would not have been accepted,” with Black neighborhoods opening their own juke joints instead.

A vintage Natty Boh crate.

Old beer and rye whiskey bottles from Baltimore. —Lydia Woolever

While the exhibit explores the communal and cultural identity fostered in these early bars, it also touches on their inequities. Women were often permitted inside, but only through the side “ladies entrance,” like the faded rust-red example hanging on the museum’s right wall. During the lunch hour, when boiled eggs, coddies, and bologna sandwiches were on offer, they could eat in the backroom, and after work, they could pick up to-go growlers to drink at home with other women while watching the children.

For her research, Donaldson dug through the BMI archives, interviewed multi-generation bar owners, and collected whatever materials she could from the community. Scholarship on bar history is limited, and many of these original spaces were destroyed in the Great Baltimore Fire of 1904, with even more shuttering during Prohibition.

But a few still stand, mostly with new names, though still bearing old details—the wooden bars, the side doors, the Natty Boh on offer. Now, there’s also Orioles on the TV, Utz above the cash register, a whole range of beer options, and, at their best, a broader, more inclusive clientele, seeking the same sense of belonging.

“We had no idea how popular this exhibit was going to be,” says Donaldson. “It’s tapping into something, and I don’t know exactly what. But personally, I love being a regular. I love going in and seeing the same people and being recognized. If someone knows your order, it’s this connection, not just to the wider community, but to your neighborhood, and to your place.”

This piece appeared in our March 2024 issue. For more great Baltimore stories, consider becoming a subscriber.

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Baltimore’s Best Dive Bars

Aaron Hope — Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:30:57 +0000

Food & Drink

We raise a Boh to Baltimore’s old-school watering holes.

By Lydia Woolever

Photography by J.M. Giordano

Lettering by Luke Lucas

Spot illustrations by Jason Schneider

December 2022

ALLY HUTCHINS HAS SPENT MOST OF HER LIFE behind the bar at 1919. On a Wednesday evening in late October, the 60-year-old Baltimore native stands with her back to the register, taking drink orders from patrons who arrive as soon as the side door opens at 5 p.m.

“Hi, Dominic—what can I get for ya?” she shouts to a regular, her gray braid swinging as she lets out a raspy laugh and The Young Rascals’ 1967 “Groovin’” plays softly on the stereo.

Hutchins is at home here. Her family bought this corner rowhome and its blue neon sign back in 1984, and she now lives upstairs with her husband, John, and their bull terrier, Sniffy. Usually, though, she can be found downstairs, amidst the tchk of beer cans and above the other loose-leashed dogs who mosey in through the back alley of this tiny neighborhood hole-in-the-wall, tucked back off busy Fleet Street on the far eastern edge of Fells Point.

In fact, blink, and you can miss it. Though not once you’re inside.

“Put something up and it never comes down,” says Hutchins, looking around the shrine-like walls, plastered in fading photographs, folk art, bumper stickers, cattle skulls, and Christmas lights that glow year-round—a hodgepodge patina reflecting the cast of local characters who have made this place their bar.

“We’ve had two deaths here, one wedding, and some people have even told me they got pregnant because of my drinks,” says Hutchins with a wry smile. “But at the end of the day, it’s just a bar. Sometimes magic happens. Sometimes nothing does.”

Of course, such stardust does not grace every drinking establishment, and those like 1919 are becoming an endangered breed. Today, we call them dive bars, once considered an insult but now an undeniable term of endearment, particularly in these changing times. As longtime owners age out, new developers increasingly move in, leaving a sleek homogeny of high-end cocktail bars and hipsterfied microbreweries in their wake.

Dive bars, by contrast, defy simple definition, ranging in the eye of the beholder from simple, old-school, corner taverns, beloved for their gruff barkeeps, to rough-around-the-edges drinking dens, with loud music and dim lighting. Always, they sell affordable drinks and lack most modern amenities. Maybe there’s a jukebox, or a dartboard, and often, a well-worn pool table. The faint whiff of cigarette smoke is commonplace. As is Keno.

Don’t expect a website or social media—just know that they close late, or at a last-minute time of their choosing, and a handful still open at sunrise. Night and day, there are regulars, many of whom live within crawling distance of the front door.

“People would probably strike if we closed, so we keep going,” says Ana Marie Cushing of Cat’s Eye Pub on Thames Street, even as longtime neighbors like BAR and The Wharf Rat fall like dominos.

Above: Scenes from 1919 in Fells Point.

In Baltimore, neighborhood bars were once a dime a dozen—some straightlaced, some rowdy—with seemingly every block offering a beer and a shot to a mix of shift workers, sailors, artists, newspapermen, and other street-roving souls. In 1968, the city had 2,200 liquor licenses to today’s 1,221, and by 1979, Baltimore magazine predicted that, soon enough, “New bars will all look the same, and how a drinker is to tell one hanging-fern/exposed-brick/butcher-block-tabled spot from another escapes [us].” That, of course, proved alarmingly prescient. Then the coronavirus pandemic closed even more of these one-of-a-kind haunts for good.

“When one place goes, a little piece of you goes with them,” says Andy Norris, second-generation owner of Bertha’s Mussels, which will shutter on South Broadway this month after 50 years in business. “People come here from other places and find their own families. Which epitomizes Charm City.”

Indeed, these bars are intertwined in this town’s identity—frayed tethers to its underdog spirit and blue-collar past, crumbling temples of simpler times. Here, conversation conquers digital scrolling, and community is formed over strong-pour communion. At their best, these are everyman spaces—where regardless of age, class, race, or gender, everyone can come together over the Orioles, Utz, and Natty Boh. Though some have undoubtedly opened their arms to outsiders more than others.

“We welcome everybody,” says Ben Franklin, veteran bartender at the Mt. Royal Tavern in Mid-Town Belvedere. “That is, until you become an asshole—then we throw you out.”

No nonsense. No nostalgia. No irony. No frills. No fuss. Baltimore dives hold the line between the past and future, where behind brick glass and Formstone facades this city can remember where it came from, and, with a good buzz, consider where it wants to go.

At the very least, we can still pull up a barstool and push the limits of last call just a little bit longer, particularly at watering holes like those listed below.

“This place has given me life,” says Hutchins, noting that her daughter, Zana, who manages 1919’s live-music lineup, hopes to take over the bar one day. By 6 p.m., it’s standing-room only, and no one seems to mind.

“I’ll probably stay until I can’t get up and down the steps anymore,” she says. “Besides, what else am I going to do?”

A vintage cigarette machine greets you at Club Charles.

3 MILES HOUSE

REMINGTON

There are few places in Remington where the old and newly revitalizing neighborhood collide more than this blush-colored hole-in-the-wall on Miles Avenue. For the last two decades, 3 Miles House has been an enclave for longtime locals to wind down after a hard day’s work. Most regulars knock back cans of red-label Budweiser. Scratch-offs are sold behind the bar, along with Newport cigarettes for the smoking patio out back. It’s the old guard for the first few hours of service, but on weekend evenings, more recent residents trickle in for the lacquered jukebox and games of darts under the watchful eye of a painterly portrait of John Wayne.

Know The Way: Get buzzed in through the 27th Street door, next to the mural of the bar’s late house cat, Missy, who was known to curl up against customers.

THE BOILERMAKER

Beloved by bartenders, this shot-and-a-beer combo was apparently named for the post-shift drink of steam locomotive workers in the 1800s. Whether downed as a slow sip or quick chaser, it remains a cheap, stiff way to take a load off. Never go wrong with a bourbon and Boh.

Above: An old pay phone and abundant memorabilia at 1919; the 1919 mascot, Sniffy.

1919

FELLS POINT

There is a good chance you’ve driven down Fleet Street a thousand times and never known that on the edge of a quiet alley sits this hidden gem of a neighborhood bar. Once you discover its blue neon sign, you’ll want to return time and time again to this narrow Fells Point rowhouse, covered in an eclectic mix of mementos gathered over the last 38 years. Amidst dusty chandeliers and colorful string lights, it’s a whimsical swirl of weird and wonderful that bottles some dwindling essence of Baltimore, where artists, musicians, and other bohemian types mingle with both lifelong and come-lately neighbors over cans of beer, booze on the rocks, or owner Sally Hutchins’ special dirty martinis. On weekends, expect an impressive lineup of live alt-country tunes, from bluegrass residencies to their monthly hootenanny.

Must Love Dogs: Enter like a local through the side door, where repeat customers often bring four-legged friends for happy hour.

BUCK FOWLER’S TAVERN

OVERLEA

Google might say that Buck’s on Belair Road—pronounced “b’lair” in these parts—is permanently closed. But past northeast Baltimore’s autobody shops and car dealerships, on the literal city-county line, you’ll find this circa-1950 tavern is still kicking, though just barely. Into the ’90s, the family-run, former “stag bar” (aka men only) was a popular hangout for Colts players like Art Donovan and Bruce Laird, but many of its biggest fans have kicked the bucket in recent years. Even so, the Coors Light sign turns on daily at 11 a.m., with WBAL on the TV, a Sun on the oak bartop, and perhaps the city’s best dartboard in the back room. During a recent lunch beer, one local, whom the tenured bartender referred to as “the mayor,” topped off his own tequila and talked about how bustling the place used to be. Take his advice: “If you’re not looking for a lot of wild and crazy excitement, come on down, sit with the old farts, and have a beverage.”

All In The Family: The second-generation proprietor, Chuck, passed away in 2004, when he was eulogized in The Sun as “the host with the most,” leaving the business to his son-in-law.

R.I.P. WHITE LABEL

There was a time not that long ago when every Baltimore dive kept a rail bottle of white-label Pikesville Supreme behind the bar. First distilled in Maryland in the late 1800s, the rye whiskey was discontinued in 2016, much to the chagrin of imbibers with frugal wallets and decent taste.

BUTTS & BETTY’S

UPPER FELLS

The red neon in the oblong windows of Butts & Betty’s speaks to the sort of all-service glory days that this 87-year-old stalwart once offered near Patterson Park. Unlike the packaged goods advertised on aging bar signs across the city, this Gough Street bar touted sandwiches and money orders, while a newer marquee with some missing letters also now trumpets lottery, NFL, and a working ATM. Sadly the hot pastrami has disappeared, like most of the Bethlehem Steel workers who used to show up for drinks and dinner at 6 a.m. Pizzas now get nuked behind the bar to help buffer the Jameson and Jell-O shots that flow so freely here. Keno and a purple pool table encourage you to stay awhile, while neighborhood pups, like Penny the pug, greet guests like they own the place.

Leading Ladies: The bartenders of this fourth-generation, family-run, woman-owned business are that just-right blend of surly and sweet that makes a modern Bawlmer hon.

CAT’S EYE PUB

FELLS POINT

If Baltimore had an official honky-tonk, it would be down the cobblestones of Thames Street and up through the turquoise portal of Cat’s Eye Pub. Seven days a week, this Fells Point anchor cranks out a serious roster of live music—from rock-and-roll and blues to funk and jazz by notable local and regional favorites like Nothin’ But Trouble, Sean K. Preston, and Ursula Ricks—luring a rug-cutting crowd, always ready for a good time. Maritime memorabilia nods to the neighborhood’s past, when watering holes like this old faithful were safe harbor for the tugboat captains and visiting sailors of a working waterfront. As fancy hotels, valets, and bouncers move in on the surrounding blocks, Cat’s Eye, circa 1975, keeps the salty-dog flame burning. Pick one of the 35 beers on tap, ogle at the old oil-painting homage to Ireland, and ask for second-generation owner Tony Cushing, who is often behind the bar and ready to pour a round of shots.

Love Letters: After several coats of paint, management has conceded that the bathroom graffiti is a rite of passage. Grab a Sharpie and leave your mark.

GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

Let’s pour one out for those that have left us lately.

American Harry’s
Backstretch Saloon
Bad Decisions
BAR
Bertha’s Mussels
Dimitri’s

The Dizz
Holiday House
Leadbetter’s
Long John’s Pub
Midway Bar

Park Inn
Pop’s Tavern
Rendezvous Lounge
The Wharf Rat

Above: The main bar and the exterior neon at Club Charles in Station North.

CLUB CHARLES

STATION NORTH

We got into a heated debate at the Mt. Royal Tavern over whether Club Charles qualified as a dive bar. Low lighting? Check. Cheap beer and shot combos? Check. A Rock-Ola jukebox featuring an incredibly curated catalogue that ranges from David Bowie to Björk? Check, check. Sure, Club Chuck, as it’s affectionately known, is hard to categorize, but in our eyes, this Art Deco hideout has all the charm, edge, and crimson Lynchian lighting that fits the bill. Open Wednesday to Sunday until 2 a.m., it’s a rendezvous for night owls of all ilks, often featuring a cast of creative characters and the occasional visit from our own Pope of Trash, John Waters. Trust in the front window’s neon “Cocktails” sign—the bartenders here make bona fide concoctions, often featuring macabre names like Persephone and Corpse Reviver. We opt for the rye Manhattans.

Pulp Fiction: Owner Joy Martin’s mother, Esther, opened the bar as The Wigwam in 1951, which Waters once described as “Studio 54 for bums.”

Above: Sipping a beer at The Drinkery; the U-shaped bar of The Drinkery in Mt. Vernon.

THE DRINKERY

MT. VERNON

Waxing rhapsodic about last-of-their-kind dives is especially true when it comes to stalwarts like The Drinkery on Read Street. An institution of the local LGBTQ community since 1972, this butter-yellow building on the western edge of Mount Vernon is one of the longest-standing gay bars in Baltimore, with the loss of other inclusive establishments perhaps epitomized in The Hippo becoming a CVS. Inside, the V-shaped bar follows the shape of its snug room, and all around it, a buoyant crowd rubs elbows while Whitney Houston blasts through the stereo. Order a cold can of Union Craft Brewing’s locally made Divine IPA, or a mixed drink of your choosing, but buyer beware—these are heavy pours. (Luckily, there’s a throwback snack machine to soak up the spirits.) “Dive bars are just more fun,” says manager Larry Evener. “There’s camaraderie—everybody gets to know everybody.”

Boogie Shoes: On our last visit, the back corner turned into an impromptu line dance, and all were welcome to join.

NO SMOKING

It’s been 15 years since Maryland banned smoking inside bars and restaurants, and while we don’t miss the overflowing ashtrays, we do have a soft spot for the few old dives that never got rid of their retro cigarette machines. Some places still sell packs from behind the bar.

FRAZIER’S ON THE AVENUE

HAMPDEN

There’s a decision that must be made when visiting Frazier’s on 36th Street in the heart of Hampden: to enter the cavernous Cheers-like hall to the left, with its back billiards, compact bar, and shlumpy leather couch amidst a cacophonous swirl of ’80s music and ole Bawlmer odes—Pimlico, Memorial Stadium, Arrow Beer. Or to enter the small, rock-and-roll-ish side bar to the right, with its single pool table and fading framed posters from the 1979 City Fair. “It’s crazy over there, isn’t it?” said one regular on a Thursday evening, referring to the former as we sidled into a green laminate booth in the latter. The side bar opens at 5 p.m., while service starts at breakfast or lunch with hangover-curing comfort food next door. Both spaces draw a diverse mix of locals for $2.50 happy-hour drafts and a late last call of 2 a.m. Their infamous karaoke is over, unfortunately, but trivia now takes place on Tuesday nights.

Back In The Day: Circa 1939, the original Frazier’s used to be located on the now-residential corner of West 33rd Street and Elm Avenue.

IDLE HOUR

RIVERSIDE

One might not expect to find a corner bar best known for its devotion to Chartreuse on a list of local dives, but next year, Idle Hour turns 20, and all along, the beloved South Baltimore haunt has straddled its good taste with an unpretentious irreverence, making it right at home in the once-working-class neighborhood of Riverside. For certain customers, house pickleback shots are preferred over that signature green liqueur, which has been made by French monks since the 1700s (and which this bar was once supposedly the top-seller of in the entire United States). On your way in under its tiny tin awning, smack a favorite bumper sticker on the collage-like front door, then grab a well-worn stool and listen to the record player spin all night. A few years back, their loyal following helped raise over $50,000 to keep the red lights glowing on Fort Avenue. Here’s to another 20, at least.

Rock On: The bar hosts BYO vinyl and DJ nights, with listening sessions currently in collaboration with WYPR’s Essential Tremors radio show.

Above: Iconic brick glass, a taxidermied marlin, and Utz chips for life at Mary’s Tavern.

MARY’S TAVERN

UPPER FELLS POINT

Searching for a dive bar in Upper Fells, you’ll likely walk right by Mary’s on a sleepy corner of Gough Street on your way toward its neighbor, Butts & Betty’s. Don’t come looking for loud music and sticky counters. Instead, owner Jim Poniatowski keeps his pint-size parlor impeccably tidy, and he’s always on call, either in his backroom recliner or at the bar watching technicolor TV shows. Walking inside is like stepping back in time to the bygone days when every Baltimore block had its own standby, tended by the folks who lived upstairs. We stumbled upon this multi-generation, circa-1959 treasure years ago and have kept it close to the chest ever since, in hopes that it would stay as unchanged as it was that first evening. Red awnings and wood paneling wrap the room in warmth, and cold cans of Boh are served with an itty-bitty beer glass, like the shift drinks of yore.

Greatest Hits: Mary’s has one of the last legit jukeboxes in the city, spinning classics like Elvis and Patsy Cline.

BAR SNACKS

Everyone knows that Baltimore is Utz country, and a good indicator of a local dive is often found behind the bar, where a small rack hangs fun-size bags of these Pennsylvania-made potato chips. Extra points for those with the crab flavor or Party Mix.

Above: The Sistine Chapel mural ceiling at the Mt. Royal Tavern; making important jukebox selection decisions at the Mt. Royal Tavern; the iconic neon sign at the “Dirt Church.”

MT. ROYAL TAVERN

MID-TOWN BELVEDERE

In our eyes, the Mt. Royal Tavern might be the best dive bar not just in Baltimore, but the entire world. In this city, though, it is the ultmate granddad of such institutions, where locals know it as MRT, or simply the “Tavern,” or even more aptly, the “Dirt Church”—that unorthodox mecca congregating all walks of city life for nights of bacchanalian revelry along its long blue bar and beneath its Sistine Chapel-replica ceiling. “Beware pickpockets and loose women,” one sign warns, though the clientele is largely an amicably inebriated MICA-meets-buccaneer bunch. Follow the red neon sign inside, where cheap beer, hefty shot glasses, and bags of Utz are in stock seven days a week, starting at 10 a.m. Pay your hand-written tabs with cash only and chat up your barkeeps, who are full of colorfully R-rated stories. (The bar once installed a “cuss bucket,” which didn’t last long, of course.) The back smoking alley is a party in its own right, and the real-deal jukebox is one of the best in town, featuring everything from The Misfits to Tom Waits and Howlin’ Wolf.

Pen Pals: Ask your bartender for the gift pack: a house postcard to send to someone special and a matchbook that dubs the bar “where art is bullshit and good bullshit is an art.”

MUIR’S

FEDERAL HILL

Once a neighborhood of factory and waterfront workers, the Fort Avenue stretch from Federal Hill to Fort McHenry used to be a haven of blue-collar bars. These businesses have been replaced by condos and coffee shops, but Muir’s is still there, with its pinnacle spire and “Beer Wines Liquors” neon sign. Circa 1944, it’s the oldest continuously owned bar on the block and still run by the namesake family. Don’t let the bright lighting and white walls of recent renovations fool you; this is still a true-blue corner bar, with one retired barmaid turned neighborhood barfly recently schooling us on her mashed potato recipe. (We’ll take it to the grave, Sharon.) They open before lunchtime, Monday to Saturday, when Natural Light beers and neat Jim Beams are go-to orders.

Harbor Heritage: Three generations of Baltimore’s industrial muscle have run this bar. The original owner, Roland Muir Sr., was a tugboat captain; his successor, Roland Jr., was a longshoreman (and National Brewing Company employee); and his nephew, Tom—the current owner—works at the Port today.

Above: Scenes from Mum’s in Federal Hill: graffiti and stickers cover the walls; darts and pool are still favorite pastimes.

MUM’S

SHARP-LEADENHALL

On a leafy residential street on the western edge of Federal Hill, Mum’s is a far cry from the Mother’s Grilles and Mad Rivers that make up much of the rest of the neighborhood. The gritty dive is a cocoon of dark wood and crotchety service, with a sign shouting “THIS IS NOT A FRAT PARTY” to the packs of post-college kids who sometimes stumble inside. One Wednesday night this fall, the L-shaped bar was full of low-key locals, ranging from millennials to boomers, with one young couple playing pool beneath the seemingly sole light source: a green-glass billiard lampshade. The old jukebox has been digitized, and we’re patiently waiting for live rock concerts to return by the boarded-up fireplace, where a life-size cut-out of Luke Skywalker now watches over in their stead.

Hot Shot: Forget Fireball—first timers should order the “Number 1 Special,” which includes a can of Boh and a shot of “Evil,” aka a sweet, house-made, cinnamon-honey ode to the Lithuanian liqueur, viryta.

OTTOBAR

REMINGTON

Most folks know of this hallowed Howard Street business as a rock club, with music lovers usually wandering down the alley to crowd its mosh pit for concerts beneath the twinkle of a grungy old disco ball. Upstairs, though, is another story, where a mishmash of red vinyl booths, checkerboard linoleum floors, local art, and a lone pool table create an oft-overlooked yet quintessential dive. Open nightly, the Ottobar lounge is a rough-and-tumble retreat for hipsters and hard-rock enthusiasts, featuring a constant rotation of events, from drag shows and dance parties to their infamous Metal Monday showcase. The logo famously features a martini being stirred by the namesake bar cat, but we tend to lean toward Natty Bohs and whiskey-ginger ales.

Music Maven: If you get the chance, chat up owner Tecla Tesnau, who has many a story after being with the business since its humble downtown beginnings, circa 1997. “These crazy little bars are great places to get steeped in the pulse of the city,” she says.

Above: Playing the slots at Pol’s Cafe; shooting pool at Pol’s.

POL’S CAFÉ

CANTON

One local bar owner told us that we had to check out this weathered Canton pool hall. It’s where he and his staff would often end up after closing time, which makes sense—following a busy night of hospitality, Pol’s is the kind of unassuming corner joint where the industry, or any neighborhood regulars, like the ones who rooted on the Ravens during one fall visit, can be truly anonymous. This Foster Avenue elder dates back to 1934, which, upon closer look, you can clearly see in the silver bar, the brick-glass windows, and the pink-and-cream subway-tiled walls. TVs and video poker now distract visitors waiting their turn at eight-ball.

Earn Your Stripes: The billiard table, with its golden trophies lining the top of the mantle-like bar, is a stop on the local pool-league circuit.

Scenes from Shamrock Inn: Tending bar; pool trophies line the wall; racking solids and stripes; a game of eight-ball heats up.

SHAMROCK INN

HAMILTON

Harford Road used to be a serious strip for unfancy bars, from Dead Freddie’s to Holiday House. Slowly they’ve closed or changed hands, but Shamrock Inn remains—a city-limits melting pot that, with a blessing from habitué John Waters, was voted one of the best bars in America by Esquire magazine in both 2007 and 2011. It’s one of the few places “that hasn’t been affected by real estate porn,” wrote Waters back then, and that’s certainly still true today. Past the cobwebbed cigarette machine, snag a busted barstool and signal owner Terry for a beer from the packaged-goods cooler. “You actually like that stuff?” asked one eyepatched pool shark swigging a Natural Ice when we ordered our first Boh. Whatever you’re drinking, you’re here to watch the wannabe Cool Hand Lukes heckle each other over solids and stripes. On occasion, cover bands and DJ sets also fill the back room.

Order A Poor Man’s Crab Cake: Eating food at a dive bar is a bit like Russian roulette, but this compact flat-top-fryer combo fuels a full food menu, from grilled cheese to Baltimore coddies, aka “the poor man’s crab cake.”

LET’S GO O’S

Whatever your opinion on TVs in bars, there are few better ways to bond with strangers in Baltimore than by bellying up for a Ravens or O’s game. Remember the din of local drinkeries when the Birds made it to the American League Championship Series in 2014?

Above: Pouring a Boh and a display of Baltimore’s boxing history at Venice Tavern in Highlandtown.

VENICE TAVERN

HIGHLANDTOWN

On the corner of Conkling and Bank streets, a white sign with a giant green arrow points down sidewalk steps to one of the last basement bars in Highlandtown, if not Baltimore. Born when Prohibition was repealed in 1933, Venice Tavern was founded by Italian immigrants Mary and Frank DeSantis, who sold spaghetti and 15-cent beers out of this subterranean lair beneath their own home. Now run by fourth-generation great-grandson, Dominic, the bar’s black-and-white photographs reveal that not much has changed. A portrait of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the patron saint of Repeal Day, still presides over the bar, which is open Monday through Saturday, starting as early as 8 a.m., but now craft beers have been added to the taps, like Diamondback’s Green Machine and Brewer’s Art’s Resurrection. Imbibers range from Gen Z pool players aiming for the corner pocket to blue-collar barflies betting their luck on video slots.

Local Lore: Baltimore’s boxing history is on full display here, with vintage fliers and a hand-drawn mural celebrating the lightweight achievements of Dominic’s grand-uncle.

WALT’S INN

CANTON

On the beaming plastic sign at the corner of O’Donnell Street and East Avenue, the number seven has been painted over, indicating that this once-nightly neighborhood bar has felt the changes faced by many of its kind in the wake of Covid-19. They’re now only open on weekends, but the Canton throngs still know to shuffle down to the tin awnings, Formstone siding, and porthole windows of Walt’s on Fridays and Saturdays, when the seasoned songhouse hosts arguably the best karaoke in town. Be sure to join on the chorus when some brave singer picks Wilson Phillips, Tracy Chapman, or Jon Bon Jovi. But let the Solo cups foretell just how rowdy (and, oftentimes, bro-tastic) this bar can be.

Hot Tip: Muster the courage needed to trill your favorite tunes with the help of infamous house Jell-O shots, which, on one recent visit, meant pumpkin pie flavor with a crown of whipped cream.

ANOTHER ROUND

NEW BARS KEEP THE OLD CHARM FLOWING IN BALTIMORE.

29TH STREET TAVERN

REMINGTON

There was a moment when we foolishly wondered where else we’d go in Remington for a shot of Pikesville Rye and off-key karaoke once the green-and-yellow light shut off for good at Long John’s Pub. But in 2018, Baltimore native Aaron Reinhart eased our worries when he purchased the bar. Sure, the white-label bottles and mic-sung standards might have gone the way of the buffalo (and luckily, the carpet floor, too). But Reinhart kept the old Formstone, and the new neon sign has quickly become a neighborhood beacon, drawing a diverse crowd for affordable drinks—more than 50 offerings in total, from Coors Banquet bottles to Charm City Meadworks’ honey brews—and a sizeable menu of down-home pub fare. On a recent Friday happy hour, every seat was taken at the J-shaped bar.

Heading North: Reinhart also took over Belvedere Square’s old Swallow at the Hollow watering hole back in 2011, and it’s busy as ever today.

MELANIE’S AT GRIFFITH’S TAVERN

HAMPDEN

There was a collective sigh of dismay among many Hampdenites when it was announced that the neighborhood’s last authentic dive bar, known by locals as “the Ice House,” would be sold. But since reopening in April with a fresh coat of paint, new owners Allison Crowley and Hannah Spangler have made minimal changes to the Hickory Avenue hangout, originally a men-only stag bar and always a mainstay for the neighborhood’s dwindling working-class crowd, though the vibe has certainly evolved. Natty Boh now mingles with natural wine, but, more importantly, the atmosphere has grown increasingly inclusive for younger patrons and the LGBTQ community. On a recent Thursday night, a baby and its beer-sipping parents were down the bar from a gray-haired old-timer fiddling with a pack of Winstons.

Fun And Games: Past customers can rejoice in knowing that the Pac-Man and Skee Bowl games live on in the bar’s left corner.

OLD MAJOR

PIGTOWN

A stone’s throw from Carroll Park, this Pigtown corner bar has become a welcome addition to the Southwest Baltimore community since arriving in 2018. The former Cockeyed Cow Saloon got an upgrade under owner Candice Bruno, who has transformed the classic cop hangout on Carey Street into a Black-owned, open-armed meeting place for a medley of neighbors— first, through its rum-based tropical cocktails and Caribbean food menu, then through its recurring events, from yoga classes to board game nights. Still, in true dive fashion, plenty of beers, both ubiquitous and rare, are on offer, plus a house punch that packs a one-two.

Looking Back: Old Major is named for a central character in George Orwell’s seminal Animal Farm, and, of course, the neighborhood’s swine-strewn history, when pigs were once paraded from the nearby B&O rail lines through the streets to local slaughterhouses.

THE ROYAL BLUE

STATION NORTH

Randy Coffren and Rich Pugh know how to open a Baltimore bar. From their flagship Johnny Rad’s on the Fells-Canton border to its sister Snake Hill in Highlandtown, the duo strikes the right chord in creating hip hangouts that are suffused with the city’s scrappy soul. At their new digs on Maryland Avenue, the old Gallery One bartop has been updated with punk concert bills from the late Charm City Art Space venue, long located next door, and that genre’s heyday gets a hat tip throughout, from ’70s-inspired décor to a disco-balled dance floor for late-night debauchery. Order a Narragansett tallboy and the slam-dunk smash burger to sustain you through the night. Says Coffren, a self-proclaimed dive bar expert, “I’m going to end up buying one of those tiny six-tops and tending bar until I croak.” We hope he means it.

Side Hustle: Slink off to the side lounge, where a neon sign beckons “The Party” to its analog TV and retro sofas.

SOUTHPAW

FELLS POINT

Cocktail aficionados know that bartender Doug Atwell helped change the city’s drink game when he opened the original Rye cocktail bar on a sliver of South Broadway in Fells Point. That era ended in 2016, but luckily, for the rapidly skyscraping neighborhood, the veteran barkeep has now opened a new corner bar at the crossroads of Bond and Fleet streets. Its nonchalant space hawks fresh takes on classic concoctions, plus budget-friendly libations like Coors Banquet bottles or High Life ponies (which can be easily converted into Atwell’s pride-and-joy Dr. Pepper shots). An old-school jukebox will be up and running any day now. All we ask is that he brings back “Thunderstruck.” If you know, you know.

What’s In A Name? Southpaw’s nom de plume is not because Atwell is left-handed but rather is an homage to the owner’s favorite things: baseball and dogs, not to mention our city’s location just below the Mason-Dixon Line. What’s more Baltimore than that?

Source

Deep Dive

Aaron Hope — Thu, 01 Nov 2018 08:30:00 +0000

In 1979, Baltimore magazine wrote about the changing city of Baltimore. “New bars will all look the same,” we opined, “and how a drinker is to tell one hanging-fern/exposed-brick/butcher-block-tabled spot from another escapes [us].”

Though nearly 40 years have passed, we are having the same conversation—over drinks, no doubt—about the state of city nightlife. As shiny cocktail bars move in, bona fide dives, which used to dot this city like Keno squares, are going the way of the dodo bird.

And we’ve poured many a cheap beer out for fallen institutions (see below), which is all the more reason to hold close the bastions of glass-block windows, sticky bar tops, and buzzing neon that remain.

Row 1: Muir's Tavern; Midway Bar; 1919. Row 2: Jerry’s Belvedere Tavern; Mary’s Tavern; Venice Tavern. Row 3: Holiday House; Cat’s Eye Pub; Griffith’s, Mount Royal Tavern; The Drinkery; 3 Miles House.

R.I.P. Gone, But Not Forgotten: We’d like to take a moment of silence for the establishments that have left us, like American Joe’s—later Harry’s American Bar—(Bill Clinton knew what’s up), Dimitri’s (getting drinks through that tiny window), Leadbetter’s (cramped enough to be in the band), Long John’s Pub (karaoke and carpet!), and Rendezvous Lounge (drinking 40s in the dark), to name a few.

OH, RATS!

What is it about our unlikely (but most fitting) mascot?

By Christine Jackson

New York has more rats than Baltimore. Philly does, too. Walk around Washington, D.C., and you'll likely see a rodent that could hold its own against a small dog.

And yet, in this city, we plaster the vermin across coffee mugs and car bumpers. We watch them in lauded documentaries (Rat Film) and viral videos (stealing Berger cookies from Lexington Market). We even throw music festivals in their name.

But why all the love? It might be because rats are known for surviving. When waters rise, the rats remain. When new trash cans come in, they chew right through them. Sure, they've caused their fair share of disasters (see: bubonic plague), but still they, like Baltimore, don't give up. In that way, you could say we’re kindred spirits.

“Baltimore has survived some of the most catastrophic events through history, from fires to wars and riots,” says Matthew Fouse, the city's self-appointed Rat Czar, who created those now-iconic BALT rat stickers. “The people always come out stronger in the end. Just like rats, they band together, adapt, and conquer.”

ONE MORE QUESTION:

What Charm Means To Me...

“No spoiler alert needed here, it's all about neighborhoods. Neighborhoods make Baltimore a big town, not a large city. How many times have you been in a social setting where the first conversation-starter question is ‘Where'd ya grow up?’”

Marty Bass | WJZ anchor and weather man

Source

50 Best Bars

Jess Mayhugh — Mon, 21 Dec 2015 08:30:00 +0000

Travel & Outdoors

50 Best Bars

We break down the region's best watering holes into 10 handy neighborhood bar crawls.

Written by Rebecca Kirkman, Jess Mayhugh, Amy Mulvihill, Mike Unger, and Lydia Woolever.
Photography by Justin Tsucalas. Illustrations by Stephanie Shafer.

As the city of neighborhoods, it makes sense that Baltimore is also the city of bar crawls. You know the kind—where you and your friends meander through the streets, stopping into corner dives or cocktail bars to get a fix at each one. They usually start with a civilized meal and toasting of glasses and end with an encore from a live band or a late-night slice. So follow us as we embark on the region’s ultimate bar crawl guide: 10 neighborhoods, each consisting of five bars, the best way to get around, and a late-night food spot. We also talk to the city’s nocturnal workers—from bartenders to Uber drivers—to hear their funniest crawl stories and practical tips. Plus, we pay homage to the beer can, the simple vessel that has seen a surge in popularity recently. Because, while we love fancy cocktails and trendy speakeasies as much as the next person, sometimes all we need is an ice-cold beer and the promise that our next bar destination is just around the corner.

Brewers Hill/Canton

Canton has long been known as a favorite nightlife spot for twenty-somethings, and the burgeoning neighborhood to its east (under the glow of winking Mr. Boh) is only adding to that appeal. We started off at 1Of Love & Regret (1028 S. Conkling St., 410-327-0760), known for its Stillwater ales, which may have been specifically designed for this rainy fall night, as its candle-lit, dark-wood ambiance felt ideally cozy. When our mustachioed bartender almost immediately asked us what we wanted, we replied “anything with whiskey” and he whipped up the Saturday Night Wrists with blood orange liquor, rye, mezcal, and orange around the rim.

Feeling the autumn vibes, we munched on golden beets with toasted almonds and a brandy-apricot cheese ball, the perfect way to warm up before heading out the door and up the street to Cardinal Tavern (901 S. Clinton St., 410-327-7850), which, on the night of a Ravens-Steelers game, was filled to the brim. Though every seat was occupied, a bartender in a Flacco jersey promptly took our drink order and let us know about the upstairs seating. We were happy to stand and munch on spicy, meaty Buffalo wings and sip Loose Cannon while football fans cheered and jeered the rivalry. Cardinal, with its Calvert Hall décor and other local sports tributes, was just the place to do it.

During halftime, we sauntered up Clinton Street to The Chasseur (3328 S. Foster Ave., 410-327-6984), a brightly lit, nautically themed bar that, on any given night, could feature bingo, a tap takeover, or a charity event. Tonight, it’s all about the Ravens, which means TVs have sound and happy hour lasts throughout the game with $2-off drafts, $5 duck fat tots, and $7 crab mac and cheese. The third quarter was about to start, so we headed to the corner beer haven that is Mahaffey’s Pub (2706 Dillon St., 410-276-9899), where you’re always encouraged to try new things. Tonight it was Yards Pynk beer, made with raspberries and both sweet and sour cherries, which was more tart than saccharine and an adventure we didn’t mind taking. Even though the game wasn’t the main focus, the friendly female bartenders still encouraged us to partake in $5 game-day grape bombs (grape vodka and Red Bull).

Once energized, we ventured back out and ended up at Bartenders (2218 Boston St., 410-534-2337). Despite its tiny rowhouse size, you’ll likely run into someone you know at this Cheers-esque sports bar. At one table, a group was playing Cranium; at another, patrons were munching on thick-crust pizza. But as the Ravens went into overtime, all eyes were glued to the TV. When Justin Tucker’s final field goal went through the uprights, the crowd (and staff alike) erupted with joy.

How to get around: The mile-and-a-half crawl is walkable. Late-night food: A classic diner, Sip & Bite (2200 Boston St., 410-675-7077) features surly waitresses, delicious gyros, and the best 2 a.m. people-watching.

➤Booze at Of Love & Regret. A Stillwater draft. Toasting at Cardinal Tavern. Pub grub at Cardinal Tavern. Pouring shots at Cardinal Tavern. Wall art at Of Love & Regret.

Fells Point

There are so many bars in Fells Point, it actually can be hard to choose. Often times, this leads to tying on one too many, but it’s usually worth it. On a crisp fall night, we first found ourselves at Johnny Rad’s (2108 Eastern Ave., 443-759-6464), the little skater-hip pizzeria stocked full of cool craft beer and stellar pies with skeeball in the back. Seated at its red bar, we coated our stomachs with a classic Primo pizza (red sauce, mozzarella, basil, olive oil, sea salt), dove into a few drafts of Union’s Duckpin, and chatted with the bartender as locals filed in and out with their to-go boxes.

With a borderline food baby, we decided the weather was too fine not to walk the four blocks to Bad Decisions (1928 Fleet St. 410-979-5161), a lauded and aptly named corner dive (hailed as one of the country’s best bars by Esquire magazine). The typically packed house was surprisingly empty so we took our pick of barstools and perused the Bible-thick handwritten notebook filled with drinks like the Fisherman’s Wife and the Suffering Bastard. We kept it classic with a round of rye old fashioneds and a basket of bacon (yes, bacon—the bar’s specialty), and watched a favorite episode of The Simpsons on TV. Rightly sauced, we scrambled south to Lobo (1900 Aliceanna St., 410-327-0303), the relatively new little corner bar that feels remarkably old-Baltimore with its brick-glass windows, fair prices, and neighborhood charm. Food coma be damned, we ordered an ice-cold tray of Chesapeake Bay oysters from the raw bar, a few drafts of local beer, and a cocktail made with house-brandied cherries. We considered some oyster shooters, too, but decided it was time to head into the heart of Fells Point, amidst the throngs of intoxicated youth.

At Rye (807 S. Broadway, 443-438-3296) we settled into the dark, Prohibition-style den and let the masters work their magic. Here’s where you can find some of the best cocktails in town, namely the “Off Menu” concoctions based off whatever you’re feeling that night. At this point, we did what we all must do at least one time in our Baltimore barhopping lives: murder the dance floor at Cat’s Eye Pub (1730 Thames St., 410-276-9866). There’s no better way to cap off a night than with pints of Guinness, shots of Jameson, and a few bumped hips with the bar’s footloose and motley crowd. When the lights came up, we tipped the band and then scurried out onto the cobblestone streets. It was almost 2 a.m. but the night still felt young, and so did we.

How to get around: On foot. Late-night food: Hot Tomatoes (717 S. Broadway, 410-563-4453) for more pizza, or the old standby of pretzel dogs at The Pretzel Twist (Thames St. and S. Broadway).

➤The bar bible at Bad Decisions. Kramer a bit askew at Bad Decisions. Kramer a bit askew at Bad Decisions. Perusing the cocktail menu at Bad Decisions. Guests enjoying the scene at Bad Decisions. Bad Decisions' graffiti-esque logo. The bar scene at Rye.

Tales From The Bar Crawl“One of the weirdest bar crawls I’ve seen come through was sausage-themed. They would go around to locally owned sausage makers, buy some, then go to a nearby bar and eat it. But it’s always nice if groups can call ahead of time to warn us. And always, always bring cash.”John Reusing, owner, Bad Decisions

Federal Hill/Riverside

Careful planning is necessary in order to orchestrate a bar crawl from Riverside to Federal Hill that includes the best of the neighborhoods—waterfront views, craft cocktails, and live music—while avoiding the late-night craziness that can come with the territory. We started our Saturday evening with popcorn and cocktails at Bar Liquorice (801 E. Fort Ave., 443-708-1675). Open for just over a year, this Riverside hangout has already attracted a cadre of neighborhood regulars. After a cocktail, we snacked on Good & Plenty’s, Red Vines, and other licorice treats at the bar while owner Jeff Cahill (formerly of Gypsy Queen food truck fame) kept our popcorn bowls full before offering up a taste of his famous Nutella bread pudding dessert.

From there, we crossed Key Highway on our walk to Little Havana (1325 Key Hwy., 410-837-9903), where we ate Cuban-inspired chicken, rice, and fried plantains on the patio overlooking the harbor. A mojito pitcher was just right for our group of four, and we polished it off before heading inside for a game of shuffleboard. The just-under-a-mile walk almost took us right past Bookmakers Cocktail Club (31 E. Cross St., 443-438-4039), which is easy to miss, since it’s as inconspicuous as a speakeasy. After taking our seats between two smartly dressed couples at the bar, we admired the well-named cocktails, then ordered the Last Night in Oaxaca with mezcal, Ring of Fire with a house-made habanero tincture, and Heart Shaped Box with prosecco and thyme. Needless to say, these were cocktails done right.

We then crossed the street to Pub Dog Pizza & Drafthouse (20 E. Cross St., 410-727-6077), and wound up on the second floor of the bar and pizza joint. We ordered the bar’s signature two-for-one 8.5-ounce mugs of microbrewed beer, and our group traded sips of the fruity drafts, instantly mixing up our drink choices. Our last stop, Mum’s (1132 S. Hanover St., 410-547-7415), is a dive bar sandwiched between two rowhomes on a quiet street. When the bartender heard that two of us were first-timers, she recommended the No. 1 special, a Natty Boh with a shot of Evil (a sweet house-made liquor with ginger, cinnamon, and cloves), which got a ringing endorsement from a couple at the bar. We downed the drinks and took a seat to listen to a rock-folk musician as the shot’s warmth spread to our bellies.

How to get around: A well-timed Charm City Circulator bus. Late-night food: The Local Fry (21 E. Cross St., 410-244-1283) for buffalo chicken or bánh mì fries.

➤Booze at Of Love & Regret. A Stillwater draft. Toasting at Cardinal Tavern. Pub grub at Cardinal Tavern. Pouring shots at Cardinal Tavern. Wall art at Of Love & Regret.

BOTTLE CAP QUIZ

Test your I.Q. with the famous Natty Boh bottle cap pictograms.

1. Hint: 1960s TV show character.

ANSWER

2. Hint: It’s a fundamental right.

ANSWER

3. Hint: Giving high praise.

ANSWER

4. Hint: Very superstitious.

ANSWER

5. Hint: Party after a win.

ANSWER

6. Hint: Keep your day job.

ANSWER

Ellicott City

A day of drinking can turn real ugly real fast if it starts without a proper pregame meal, so we began our Saturday afternoon at The Phoenix Emporium (8049 Main St., 410-465-5665). Its renowned burgers, made using beef from J.W. Treuth & Sons butcher less than two miles away, are juicy and flavorful without being greasy. (Tip: Avoid fried or super-filling foods before a boozing marathon.) We washed them down with an ice-cold Sierra Nevada, one of more than 100 bottled beers from around the world offered at this tap-less gem.

Our bellies fortified and our livers sufficiently lubricated, we walked a few blocks east to The Trolley Stop (6 Oella Ave., 410-465-8546). Housed in a lovely stone building erected in 1833, the exposed wood-beam ceiling and wooden paneling above the bar give it a cozy feel. TVs were tuned to football games but set to mute, so we chatted with a regular about the merits of the Reuben sandwich (his looked delicious) while we downed Yuengling lagers. (It’s best to take a break from 8-percent IPAs if you want a bar tour to last more than two stops.) Emerging back into the bright sunshine, we dodged pedestrians on Main Street before veering off to The Diamondback Tavern (3733 Old Columbia Pike, 410-313-8530), a no-frills joint where we quaffed pints of Baltimore-brewed Diamondback 3:30 Amber Ale (no relation) to the strains of Tom Petty.

Our next stop was Ellicott Mills Brewing Company (8308 Main St., 410-313-8141) where a flight of four 5.5-ounce samples of their suds brewed on-site ran $7.50. A young woman next to us asked the bartender for a beer rundown, and—after patiently waiting through a spiel that included the intricate characteristics of weizenheimers, marzens, and dunkels—promptly proclaimed, “I’ll have a Beam on the rocks.” By now we had to consciously remind ourselves to look both ways before crossing the street on our way to The Judge’s Bench (8385 Main St., 410-465-3497), housed in a stone building that’s rumored to be haunted. Feeling spook-free, we admired the handsome semi-oval brick bar, solid lineup of 17 rotating taps, and hundreds of whiskies that have justifiably made it an E.C. staple.

How to get around: On foot, just be sure to look both ways. Late-night food: We craved grease, so we headed to BonChon Chicken (3419 Plum Tree Dr. No. 102, 410-465-0515), which serves mind-bogglingly crispy Korean-style drumsticks and wings until midnight.

➤Diamondback's Orange Crush. Streetcar decor at The Trolley Stop. Stone exterior of The Trolley Stop. Clipboard menus at The Diamondback Tavern. A reuben at The Trolley Stop.

Tales From The Bar Crawl“There was a bachelorette party for a woman in her mid-50’s. This tour had women come from all over the East Coast to celebrate and they had been friends for over 25 years. They sang and danced to Motown, pedaled and drank the night away, and retold old stories about life and love. Talk about goals!”Amanda Davis-Eriksen, driver, 16-person bike, Charm City Pedal Mill

Harford Road

No less an authority than John Waters once called Harford Road “the sexiest neighborhood in Baltimore.” Maybe that’s a bit of a stretch, but Northeast Baltimore’s main thoroughfare does have its own appeal. We started at Koco’s Pub (4301 Harford Rd., 410-426-3519), the canary yellow corner restaurant at the southern tip of Lauraville. Because we’re not fools, we ordered two of Koco’s show-stopping crab cake platters and sipped a Traveler pumpkin shandy before wobbling off to our next stop feeling toasty and plump, just like the crab cakes.

A five-minute stroll north and we arrived at Lauraville House (4528 Harford Rd., 410-444-6664), another bar/restaurant, this time specializing in barbecue. We weren’t here for the ’cue though. No, we came for the Friday night karaoke. So we downed our Dogfish Head IPA and Angry Orchard cider, belted out a Fleetwood Mac classic, mic dropped, and caught a ride about a mile north to Hamilton Tavern (5517 Harford Rd., 410-426-1930), which opened in 2008 but still seems so of-the-moment with its farm-to-table menu, rotating craft brew drafts, and artisan-chic décor. As usual, it was packed, but, after a short wait, we managed to snag a table, at which we sipped an Oliver’s Modern Life Is Rubbish porter with notes of black coffee and licorice hearty enough to fortify us against the chilly fall air.

Our next stop was Freddie’s Ale House (7209 Harford Rd., 410-254-8373)—better known to a generation of patrons as Dead Freddie’s, a dive bar renowned for its wings and bad attitude. The new owners have ditched the attitude but kept the wings, and added an emphasis on craft beers, including local labels such as Union Craft and Key Brewing. A modest makeover has opened up the space, which features a plethora of video and bar games in the back.

From there, it was just a hop, skip, and a jump over the county line to Racers’ Cafe in Parkville (7732 Harford Rd., 410-665-6000). We marveled at the chalkboard menu detailing the scores of Belgian-style ales available, gaped at the separate chalkboard menu enumerating the 15 beers on draft, and scoured the lengthy bourbon and scotch menu for a suitably stiff pour. Though it all sounds very hipster-chic, it has been family-owned and operated since 1944. Just like the rest of the Harford Road scene, Racers’ transcends trends—and there ain’t nothing sexier than that.

How to get around: You'll mostly want to Uber it or find a designated driver. Late-night food: Open 24 hours, Valentino’s (6627 Harford Rd., 410-254-4700) has a novel-length menu, but go straight for the pies and cakes glistening in the dessert case.

➤Chalkboard at Racersʼ. Freddieʼs a bit faded. Beer at Freddieʼs. Cigarettes at Freddieʼs. A Racersʼ regular at the front bar. Skee Ball at Freddie's.

Tales From The Bar Crawl“We see folks all the time who use the taxi to save on parking and to avoid getting arrested. But check the schedule! Sometimes people think that we run 24/7, but we close before the bars let out. If you aren’t sure you’ll make it back before then, buy a one-way ticket.” Frank “Sonny” Novak, five-year Baltimore Water Taxi captain

Hampden

Whether you’re the craft cocktail type or just looking for a barstool to enjoy a Boh, Hampden offers a multitude of options within walking distance. We started our crawl at Blue Pit BBQ & Whiskey Bar (1601 Union Ave., 443-948-5590), which has a lived-in feel despite being less than two years old. From bucket stools at the bar, we sipped rye-based cocktails like the Riverboat Sour, mixed with kumquat shrub, mint, and house sour, before heading to the back patio for some grub. We polished off the last of a Big Dawg sandwich (chopped brisket, sausage, red chili slaw, and pickles—for the indecisive), then walked off the calories with a 10-minute trek to Other Corner Charcuterie Bar (850 W. 36th St., 443-869-5075).

This space in the back of the Corner restaurant can get crowded, but we snagged a couple of wood-barrel tables and took our picks from the post-Prohibition side of the cocktail menu, which favors drinks of the more complex variety. By now we were ready for a beer, and thankfully our next stop took us to De Kleine Duivel (3602 Hickory Ave.), a Belgian beer hall just off The Avenue. A crowd spilled out from the neighboring Gallery 788 exhibit, skewing the patrons a bit more artistic than usual. Watching the bartender pour our beers into the brewery’s branded glass and scrawl our orders onto slips of paper rather than a glowing screen added to the hall’s old-world charm. One of the last places to see live music in the neighborhood, Holy Frijoles (908 W. 36th St., 410-235-2326) is a popular hangout for folks in the industry. Our window booth offered ample people-watching opportunities on 36th Street as we sipped on house margaritas to the clink-clink of pinball machines in the back. Like many bar-goers on the street, we ended our night at Frazier’s on the Avenue (919 W. 36th St., 410-662-4914), a massive space with two bars and a vintage-Baltimore vibe thanks to Memorial Stadium and Colts memorabilia plastering the walls. Bohs in hand, we played pool to a leather-jacket-wearing couple’s pick from the jukebox, Michael Jackson’s “Beat It.” After a few more drinks, we decided to do the same.

How to get around: This compact crawl is perfect for walking. Late-night food: The take-out window at Golden West Cafe (1105 W. 36th St., 410-889-8891) with chicken tacos and Nutella waffles is open until 2 a.m. on weekends.

➤Foosball at Other Corner. A roasted pigʼs head at Other Corner. De Kleine Duivelʼs Belgian beer selection. De Kleine Duivelʼs Belgian beer. De Kleine Duivelʼs clientele. Chemistry and cocktails at Other Corner.

Tales From The Bar Crawl“They’re drunk. Sometimes they forget what they’re doing. They steal the condiments. They steal the lemons. They fight with the lemons. Sometimes we turn around and they steal the tip [jar]. We have two people working at night: one taking orders, one guarding the tips.” Carlos Martinez of The Pretzel Twist stand in Fells Point

Downtown/Mt. Vernon

If you’ve outgrown the rowdiness of, say, Federal Hill or Fells Point, but you’re not ready to resign yourself to a night of boxed wine and Netflix, Mt. Vernon offers the perfect happy medium—an eclectic mix of bars to suit all energy levels. We started our crawl with one of the city’s best burgers at Alewife ( 21 N. Eutaw St., 410-545-5112), the Westside gastropub cater-corner to both the Everyman and Hippodrome theaters. Oxblood walls, wrought-iron fixtures, and a winding wooden staircase speak to the building’s 1800s origin, but the drink menu is au courant with cocktails featuring on-trend ingredients. Try The Baltimore Sour made with Pikesville Rye, Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur, sour mix, and a malbec float. Next, we headed four blocks east to the swanky B&O American Brasserie (2 N. Charles St. 443-692-6172). Located off the lobby of Hotel Monaco, B&O’s bar/lounge pioneered the now-ubiquitous craft cocktail trend in Baltimore. We dithered over the many tempting suggestions on the clipboard menu, but ultimately opted for the Nux Alpina Mule, made with Applejack, walnut liqueur, house bitters, lime, and ginger beer—it tasted like fall in a glass.

From there, we walked a brisk half-mile up Charles Street to arrive at Sugarvale (4 W. Madison St., 410-609-3162), a new basement bar from the folks who run Dooby’s around the corner. With walls of white subway tile and old-fashioned light bulbs, Sugarvale’s vibe is very East Village bistro. Accordingly, we ordered some wine (including a buttery chardonnay the bartender called a “soccer mom white”) and some noshes. Our spread of crusty bread, house-made boursin, apple butter, pickled cherries, and a mini crème brulée in a chocolate-cookie crust arrived on a wooden cutting board and was gone in seconds.

Reinvigorated, we then headed over to the venerable gay dive The Drinkery (205 W. Read St., 410-225-3100), where we grabbed two seats at the U-shaped bar and asked for a drink menu, a request that was met by howls of laughter. Message received, we asked the bartender to suggest something sweet. He then whipped up two mysterious—and mysteriously tasty—“green drinks” for us, which we happily slugged while patrons watched Seinfeld reruns, played bar games, and sang along to Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston classics. Our final stop of the night was the granddaddy of Baltimore brewpubs, The Brewer’s Art (1106 N. Charles St., 410-547-6925). We arrived just as the upstairs restaurant was closing, so we headed downstairs to the cellar bar, which was as packed as ever, with revelers huddled in every nook and cranny, downing signature brews like Resurrection, Beazly, and Proletary ale. To borrow a lyric from one of the new wave hits on the stereo, it was the “same as it ever was”—and that’s a very good thing.

How to get around: On foot if the weather allows, or via Charm City Circulator Purple Line if it doesn’t. Late-night food: Blessedly open until 3 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays, Never On Sunday (829 N. Charles St., 410-727-7191) is a perfect last stop for a stomach-settling greasy gyro and fries.

➤The Brewerʼs Artʼs house-made beer. A cocktail and charcuterie plate at Sugarvale. Basement bar at The Brewerʼs Art. A fresh draft at Brewer's Art. A cocktail at Sugarvale. A charcuterie plate at Sugarvale.

Can Do Attitude

Cans are making a comeback. And the label designs are getting more creative every day.

Heavy Seas When the brewery canned its popular IPA, it let the capital letters do the talking.

charm city MeadworksThis South Baltimore meadery calls its Wildflower “the champagne of meads.”

The Brewer's Art The design on this Belgian-style pale ale honors our hometown bird.

flying dog brewery The brewery's labels feature the chaotic but beautiful art of Ralph Steadman.

Union Craft Brewing This ode to duckpin bowling was designed by Natalie Cone of Gilah Press.

red brick station The White Marsh brewpub installed a one-use canner that seals brews at the bar.

Union Craft Brewing One of Union's more classic designs, this pays tribute to our National Anthem.

diamondback beer With a Maryland flag backdrop and a Terps tribute, it doesn't get much more local.

Burley Oak Brewing The explosive design for this canned sour was created by local artist Aaron Yealdhall.

Annapolis

With dozens of watering holes packed into its walkable and charming downtown, our capital city is tailor-made for a bar tour. We started our Saturday evening with a crab pretzel and beers at Davis’ Pub (400 Chester Ave., 410 268-7432). Many Annapolis bars can be overly touristy, but this Eastport staple feels like the town’s version of a Baltimore corner bar. (It actually is located on a corner.) An older crowd of mostly locals contributes to the laid-back vibe—you’d be hard pressed to find many people wearing socks here. The longest walk of our tour took us over Spa Creek to the historic district, where we ducked into the legendary Middleton Tavern (2 Market Space, 410-263-3323), which, in one form or another, has hosted drinkers since 1750. We slammed down a round of its famous oyster shooters before heading to the upstairs bar, where Larry Lay has played piano for 20 years. We chuckled along with him when a well-on-her-way woman aggressively requested Billy Joel songs.

The usually crowded but rarely too crowded McGarvey’s Saloon & Oyster Bar (8 Market Space, 410-263-5700) has been Middleton’s neighbor for 40 years. Standing next to us near the front bar was a couple who had just come from their daughter’s wedding. We asked the tuxedoed father if he liked his new son-in-law, and after a pregnant pause, he replied, “He’s okay.” Yikes. Next, we strolled up to Level (69 West St., 410-268-0003), an upscale lounge that takes its food and drink very seriously. When our bartender heard us contemplating whether the Bourbonapolis, a cocktail made with Old Forester 86, Aperol, strawberry-rhubarb balsamic shrub, lemon, and bitters, might be too sweet for our taste, he offered to make it less so—and he nailed it.

While it tasted great, it definitely wasn’t less intoxicating, making us thankful that the walk to our final stop, bar and live-music venue Metropolitan Kitchen & Lounge (169 West St., 410-280-5160), was a short one. We grabbed stools at the upstairs bar, ordered more bourbon (it was becoming that kind of night), and asked the bartender what time he was closing. He smiled and said, “I’ve got nowhere to go.” Luckily, neither did we.

How to get around: On foot and, if you’re lucky enough, by boat. Late-night food: Charlie’s Bar at Mangia (81 Main St., 410-268-1350) for a slice of pizza.

➤Crab pretzel at Davisʼ Pub. Stained-glass lights lining McGarveyʼs. Bar at Davisʼ Pub. Exterior at Level. Cocktails at Level. Coming in for a landing at McGarvey's.

Tales From The Bar Crawl“I love bar crawls, but my advice to drunk people would be: Try to be mindful. Don’t kick shit or jump up and down acting all crazy. I’ve been that drunk person, but I’ve always been able to hold my drink.” Ashley Bradbury, first-time Uber driver

Station North/Remington

We started our night on the edge of arts mecca Station North, in the red neon halo of Mount Royal Tavern (1204 W. Mt. Royal Ave., 410-669-6686). The Bolton Hill watering hole was filled with its usual MICA-meets-salty-dog crowd, and we bellied up beside them at the long blue bar, admiring its fading mural overhead as we ordered a round of whiskey. With New Order on the jukebox and the smell of crock-pot chili in the air (it was actually pretty good), we scribbled on the bar’s complimentary postcards. From there, we ambled outside into the cool fall night and headed north to Club Charles (1724 N. Charles St., 410-727-8815)—or Club Chuck, as the Art Deco cocktail lounge is affectionately known. In its hazy pink glow, we grabbed a plush leather booth, ordered another round of whiskey, and admired the intense Halloween decorations (a Poltergeist crib swirling from the ceiling, a life-size Freddy Krueger in the corner, Children of the Corn projecting on the wall).

Time slows down in this warm, dark bar and we almost forgot it was a school night, but then we quickly ordered an Uber to W.C. Harlan (400 W. 23rd St., 410-925-7900). Behind the unmarked door of this craft cocktail hangout in Remington, we cradled two classics (an old fashioned and a Manhattan) as well as the daily special (some tequila-honey-lemon-Chartreuse concoction), all made by our Hawaiian-shirted barkeep. The little candles danced off the old wallpaper, Robert Johnson and Howlin’ Wolf played on the stereo, and as the spirits started to sink in, our conversations turned rhapsodic—and then, naturally, toward food. It was time for The Dizz (300 W. 30th St., 443-869-5864), a cozy neighborhood corner bar within walking distance with a decent draft list and drool-worthy burgers (go with the classic bacon-cheddar).

Full and happy, we strolled around the corner for a nightcap—aka a shot of Pikesville Rye and a Boh—at Long Johns Pub (398 W. 29th St., 410-235-2426). It was karaoke night in the old Formstone dive riddled with Beatles memorabilia and lawn furniture, but we passed for a game of darts, though none of us knew the rules. We sang Journey, crushed our beer cans, and scrambled out to our Ubers in the bright light of the moon.

How to get around: On foot and Uber. Late-night food: Papermoon Diner (227 W. 29th St., 410-889-4444) for ecclectic and vegetarian-friendly comfort food or Clavel (225 W. 23rd St., 301-848-2849) for tacos and quesadillas until 2 a.m.

➤Crab pretzel at Davisʼ Pub. Stained-glass lights lining McGarveyʼs. Bar at Davisʼ Pub. Exterior at Level. Cocktails at Level. Coming in for a landing at McGarvey's.

Timonium

Up until a few years ago, the words “bar crawl” and “Timonium” may have felt like an oxymoron. But thanks to renovations, redesigns, and openings, the York Road corridor is now a lively late-night jaunt. Our evening began at Michael’s Café (2119 York Rd., 410-252-2022), where we sat at its marble bar that, thankfully, was being warmed by heaters overhead. Our bartender was very pleasant as she plopped a few menus down and made suggestions. We ended up with a Kentucky Kelly: Bulleit bourbon, strawberries, lemon, and ginger beer in a Mason jar. As we chatted with bar regulars, we snacked on delicious ahi tuna bites and zucchini fries before making our way up the road to Hightopps Backstage Grille (2306 York Rd., 410-560-7101). This Timonium mainstay is known for its outdoor beach and playground, and a recent renovation expanded the exterior space even further. But we opted for the stone room with fireplaces while an acoustic guitarist played Rod Stewart covers. We threw back Flying Dogs and sang along, as guests enjoyed the nightly special of a $10-pizza-and-pitcher.

During a set break, our designated driver took us up to Padonia Road and inside Ryleigh’s Oyster (22 W. Padonia Rd., 410-539-2093), the county location of the original Federal Hill outpost, known for shellfish and crushes. We said “When in Rome” and ordered a half-dozen Skinny Dipper oysters and two grapefruit crushes, made properly with crushed ice and fresh-squeezed fruit halves. As couples dined and the bar’s multiple TVs showed ESPN highlights, our bartenders were cordial and entertaining—even sneaking two extra mollusks onto our tray when we weren’t looking.

Just a shell’s throw away is Five (106 W. Padonia Rd., 410-308-1800), the martini bar adjacent to Christopher Daniel. We arrived just in time for late-night happy hour, so we ordered a $7 Grey Goose dirty martini, which was well balanced and had a perfect nutty, green-olive flavor. Worried the martini went down a little too quickly, we snacked on the bar’s discounted $6 Buffalo chicken tenders and now we’ll be craving these spicy, lightly breaded, juicy creations for the rest of time.

We heard tell that there was a great bourbon bar attached to Magooby’s Joke House, and this we had to see. So we made our way over to Wits End Saloon, (9603 Deerco Rd., 410-252-0628), a dimly lit, 15-seat bar, where many of the patrons were audience members or comedians themselves. The walls were decorated with old music flyers and massive chalkboard signs depicting the lengthy whiskey selection. We saw some familiar suspects (High West, Knob Creek, Woodford), but were even more impressed with rarities, like Featherbone and the 12-year WhistlePig Old World rye, its age making for a smooth and warm nightcap.

How to get around: A mix of walks and Ubers, though be careful on busy York Road. Late-night food: The 24-hour Nautilus Diner (2047 York Rd., 410-561-9236), with its anytime breakfast and anyone crowd, makes us feel like we’re back in high school.

➤The Bar at Wit's End Saloon

An Ode to the Crawl

Our very unofficial—and unsolicited—advice on how to get the most from your next neighborhood bar crawl experience.

By Jess Mayhugh

We Baltimoreans cherish our bars. We have our go-to spots around the corner and our special occasion spots when we’re feeling really celebratory. They’re where we go after a long day at work or, better still, to embark on a long day of non-work. They’re a part of our culture, and hell, this magazine is spending 14 pages espousing their virtues.

The best way to enjoy these havens is by throwing all caution to the wind and visiting them in bunches. While the pre-planned, themed bar crawl can be as much fun to curate as a good mixed CD, sometimes it’s the crawls we don’t plan that turn out the best.

We love these spontaneous journeys in the way famed journalist H.L. Mencken once described love: “Love is like war: easy to begin but very hard to stop.”

Sometimes the crawl is that 6 p.m. happy-hour drink that eventually morphs into a late-night dance party. Sometimes it’s that tame dinner with co-workers that turns into an all-out karaoke cabaret. Or it can be a bottomless brunch that feeds into an epic crosstown bar tour.

You usually start off with a very specific drink choice—something refined or trendy or expensive. With each order, things get a little less decisive until all of your snooty preferences eventually whittle down to a shot and a beer. But of course, a bar crawl isn’t about the drinks. It’s not even about the bars—much. It’s about the people.

Those people you decide to assemble for your nomadic bar journey are important, each filling a certain role in your life. After a couple drinks, there is inevitably, and spectacularly, that person in your group who ends up being a total surprise. Maybe they’re more prone to rounds of whiskey than you knew. Maybe they’re intensely competitive at shuffleboard. Maybe they can, without missing a beat, recite the entirety of “Baby Got Back.”

There are the misfits that you pick up along the way, too—perhaps people you’ve texted after inhibitions gave way or old friends you bump into because of this small-town city you call home.

Not that your crew isn’t great, but throughout the night, some of the most interesting conversations happen with strangers: the regular who has had a few too many and knows all about the place; the total tourist who read about this particular bar in a guide book; the wobbly group of girls celebrating a special occasion who insist on buying you a shot.

Arguably the best way to choose your next adventure is to ask the person behind the bar. Odds are they’ve been listening to you decide what drink to get or where to go next anyway. Listen to these stirrers and shakers. They’re the real experts. Order something off menu, asking your trusted bartender to have fun with a new booze experiment. While you’re at it, ask them where they take a load off and you might discover a hidden gem you’ve walked past a million times.

Each bar you visit sort of snowballs into the next and the best advice, really, is to keep an open mind. Chat up the old man sitting at the end of the bar, try a drink you’ve never heard of, stay out later than you planned, and dance completely out of rhythm.

And while the night, like Mr. Mencken said, might be very hard to stop, it eventually must. The band plays an encore, the lights come up, and you catch a ride home. But you leave a bit more well-traveled, with a few new friends, and an even more profound appreciation of the old ones.

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