If You’re Into That Kind of Thing: NOFX Fixated DJs

I met up with the Girlnasium crew at the Wheat Sheaf last night for wings, pints and saccharine ruminations upon our scandal plagued years at York U. After settling the tab we achieved quorum, determined more beers were in order and headed for 751 on Queen, a decent spot with $3.50 bottles of PBR. I hadn’t been to this joint in a while, but it seems their position on hilarious DJs remains firmly in effect as our pinball tourney was played out to an obsessively curated set of NOFX’s greatest hits. It’s been a while since I heard The Moron Brothers, but it was actually remarkably fitting for the occasion.

Double Smokes in Chocolate City

A couple of friends are headed to DC for a wedding this weekend and asked if I could suggest a place to watch the Stanley Cup final. It would appear that the capital has its fair share of sports bars, but despite being the birthplace of the Champions franchise, they all seem to be more than a little douché. Based on some preliminary research and a quick perusal of Stop Smiling magazine’s DC issue I’m suggesting dinner at Ben’s Chili Bowl, a local landmark famously patronized by Bill Cosby, who held a press conference there to launch his eponymous TV show. It’s a Chocolate City institution, much like Nathan’s on Coney Island and Uno’s in Chicago.

After dinner it’ll be game time at either The Tune Inn or Hank Dietles’ Tavern. The Tune Inn was featured in Esquire’s Best Bars of America and looks fantastic. Get a load of this sweet interior shot:

Beers are cheap and if folks are still hungry after their half-smokes everything on the menu comes with a side of bacon.

On the other hand, these guys may be more inclined to a roadhouse tip. If so, Hank Dietles’ seems like the place to be.Washington’s City Paper says “There’s not a microbrew in sight, the giant beer bottle above the bar lights up when the phone rings, and the “wine list” simply reads WINE $3.00.” The price is rite with $1.50 Miller Lite and free chips and crock pot dip sound like a tasty snack if things go to overtime.

Neighbourhood Bars: Snake and Jake's Christmas Club Lounge, New Orleans

A friend of mine lives across the street from this place in New Orleans and drinks there regularly. Apparently Katrina had nothing to do with the state of (dis)repair. It's always looked like this.


(7612 Oak Street)

Regional Resources: Alt-Weeklies, Bullshit and Booze for Free Every Thursday

Alt-weeklies are essential reading for travelling executives in search of tranny-escorts and sanctimonious university undergrads who need to keep abreast of the latest developments in eco-conscious trade union sexual-self-empowerment BS. For the rest of us they’re a reliable source for concert listings and movie showtimes. They’re also a valuable tool when pre-planning a drinking trip to a new city. Most free weeklies maintain a comprehensive online archive that typically includes a regular food and drink column and an annual “Best Bars” supplement. Sift through the inevitable rave reviews for vegan cafés and you’ll find valuable intelligence on local happy hours, mainstay taverns and student neighbourhoods. You can use this basic information to do a more targeted Google search which will often turn up some additional related recommendations, blog posts, flickr shots and myspace accounts that you can build the rough outline of your tour upon.

Here’s a list of the major Canadian alt-weeklies and some from the US that I read regularly;

Toronto – NOW, Eye Weekly
Montreal – Hour, Mirror
Halifax – The Coast
Ottawa – xPress
Calgary – FFWD Weekly
Edmonton – Vue, See
Vancouver – Georgia Straight
Winnipeg – Uptown
New York – Village Voice
Detroit – Real Detroit, Metro
Buffalo – Artvoice, The Beast

And here’s a comprehensive list of North American free weeklies from Wikipedia.

Buffalo: I’ll Take the Wings, You Can Keep the Phish

I’ve been doing a bit of research for a mid-summer gentlemens' jaunt to Buffalo in pursuit of wings, Rolling Rock beer and taverns patronized by rust belt brutes whom are likely to kick my lilly livered, trillium loving Ontario ass.

Three rather disappointing things I’ve discovered;

1. Though The Beef is undoubtedly home to some sweet bars and restaurants, collectively they’ve got pretty much the most underwhelming online presence I’ve ever seen.
2. Almost every alehouse in the city proudly offers some sort of live entertainment… as if jam bands, blues duos and poetry slams were an attraction. I’m not sure what a Saturday night open mic is supposed to do for business, but I can’t imagine it brings in a heavy drinking clientele.
3. Apparently Phish is still pretty popular with the local undergrad population.

That being said, fear not my valiant comrades, I have judiciously separated wheat from chaff to establish this (somewhat less than comprehensive) list of potential destinations:

The Anchor Bar – Birthplace of Buffalo wings. Need I say more?

The Essex Pub – If the movies featured on their Myspace (Barfly and Trees Lounge) are anything to go by this place will be amazing.

Staples of Allentown – Their “private booths” look comfortable and the beer specials are nothing to turn your nose up at.

The Old Pink aka 223 Allen Street – Anthony Bordain’s No Reservations gives their steak sandwich and fried bologna two thumbs up.


Mulligan’s Brick Bar – Apparently locals have favoured Mulligan’s happy hour above all others for decades. I have no reason to argue with that sort of endorsement. Also, this recent review is pretty funny: "The last time I frequented this establishment, a friend of mine had his leather seats stolen out of his new 1967 Jaguar XKE convertible while we were having some liquid refreshment."


Sportsmen’s Tavern – With a name and façade like that I’ve got to see the inside. No other info to speak of though.

Mohawk Place – Buffalo’s indie rock venue. Tommy Stinson, The Hold Steady, Fugazi and The Brain Jonestown Massacre have all played there. Can’t be terrible.

Some other place of ill-repute that warrant exploration: Merlin’s, Sterling Place Tavern, Vinny’s and Broadway Joe’s.

Sports Bars: Champs In The League

Though I don’t have a problem with a visit to The Sports Centre Café or a trip to Hoops, I’m not a huge fan of their ESPN meets family restaurant aesthetic. Sure the food’s tasty and the waitresses are hot, but half the TVs in the place are tuned to golf or NASCAR. I prefer a bar that features real sports; hockey, football, boxing… even baseball will do. Sports that people have been watching in bars for years, back to the days when your only choices were bottle or draft, pretzels or nuts. It’s not that I want to watch the Leafs on a vintage 13 inch B&W with a bowl of unshelled peanuts, but I’d appreciate it if the atmosphere was a little closer to the type of joint I drink in every other night of the week; dark, worn in and comfortable with a unique local charm.


Over the years I’ve settled on a few spots that deftly balance the ratio of flat screen plasmas, chesty broads and beer promos with a great wing recipe, dim lighting and a clientele that loves sports and serious drinking in equal measure. Toronto’s Main Event is good, as is Tiff’s in Barrie, but my favourite by far is Champs in Montreal. Believe it or not the ladies discovered this one. We boys were off in Ottawa watching the US get trounced by Slovakia at the World Juniors. Imagine our pleasant surprise when les filles texted us their location midway through the 3rd period, a franco tavern, tucked away on the second floor of a building on St. Laurent. We met them there later in the evening for the start of the Flyers game and immediately fell in love with the place. It’s difficult to quantify the experience, but I’ll begin by saying there is a living room lounge by the front window that has couches, recliners and more than a dozen TVs, each tuned to a game of your choice. If that’s not enough to sell you on the place, there’s an off track bookie upstairs and enough Habs memorabilia to fill a museum. Don’t even consider showing up sporting a Leafs jersey though; us anglos have historically handed the frogs their asses but these guys clearly weren’t on the battle lines. They were too busy putting away quarts of Cinquante and plates of poutine.

Reasons To Hit the Bottle, #1: You'll Never Be As Eloquent As A Drunk From Minneapolis

Exhibit A: