(ed. It’s not that deep of a dive.)

Bar pies didn’t pop on my radar until around 2005 when I would go to a few bars in Brooklyn that offered them for free with each drink you bought. I didn’t think much of them at the time. They were just small pizzas that served a purpose. Good, cheap, utilitarian sustenance for when you’re out having a few drinks.

Since then, I’ve come to understand that bar pies are a thing with an interesting history, and they take different forms in different parts of the country. This means three regions, really. The tri-state metropolitan area of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut, the Midwest, with Chicago as the base, and the South Shore area of Massachusetts. (For the Midwest, they’re also referred to as thin crust pies, tavern pies, tavern-style, or just pizza, and for the South Shore, they’re called bar pizza.) Oddly enough, though New York and Chicago are well-known for pizza, they’re not known by many outsiders for bar pie-style pizza (and, as in my case, some locals may not even be aware of their existence).

I’m not sure exactly where the tradition of free bar pies came from, but the idea of offering free eats at a bar is obviously nothing new. It’s just another form of a bowl of pretzels or peanuts on the bar. Something that keeps people from leaving because of hunger, and on the salty side, so it makes them thirsty. But the free pies may have been, and are definitely now, more of an anomaly. Most places serving bar pies charge for them.

The Concept

The free bar pies I had back in the day were straightforward. Crust, sauce, and cheese on a small, thin, crispy pie served at a bar. That’s it. Occasionally a couple of toppings, but nothing fancy. At the places I used to go, a topping could cost you a buck or two.  

To me, the sauce and cheese on a bar pie, free or not, extends to the rim. That seems to be the norm. There are places though that serve them with a more typical crust depth. I’ve always thought of them as a slightly bigger, slightly better Mama Celeste (the frozen pizza that uses the imagery of a woman that resembles to the mother from The Godfather. Also, one of my favorite frozen pizzas growing up.)

Mama Celeste and her doppelgänger, Mama Corleone.

They’re usually individual pies that are 10-12” in diameter (you might find them bigger though, especially when they’re not free). They’re not meant to be a big meal, can be shared, and you’re not going there specifically for it, so they’re not the star of the show. That’s the idea anyway. Or at least my idea of what they are.

The Reality

The reality is that in many places, the pizza is the main attraction. They’re a full meal, rather than just a snack for people at the bar. Some places have become well-known for their bar pies because they’re really good, and their names tip you off to the fact that they’re not a typical pizza joint. Instead of having Italian-sounding names one would expect for a pizzeria, a few popular bar pie places in the metro New York area, for example, include Colony Grill (with a shamrock in its logo), Grand Street Cafe, The Mountain House, and Star Tavern.

Back to Brooklyn

Contrary to what I just said, most of the bar pies I had back in the day were at a place called Capone’s. An online post described it like this: “free pizza is hard to quibble with, especially when you're eating it off a century-old hand-carved bar imported from one of Al Capone's Chicago haunts. The Williamsburg native (ed. Brooklyn, yes. Williamsburg, no) is said to haunt this dive…” I don’t remember it being such a dive. That said, the picture of the entrance shown below doesn’t suggest it was a classy establishment. It was sparsely decorated. That I do recall.

Image source: 11211.info

I also don’t really recall the quality of the pizza. This is what happens when you have one too many Sixpoint Bengali Tigers or Blue Point Toasted Lagers. While I don’t remember if they were good or not, nearly twenty years later, I remember them because they were part of the experience. And I remember destroying them like a true gavone. Not the best look if you’re single and looking for some romance, which may have been the case for some, as one site described Capone’s as “Williamsburg's Meet Your Hipster-Chick Girlfriend Bar".  

My friend Paul made everyone look a little gavone-ish as it was customary for him to coerce people into eating an entire slice in one bite. Given the compact nature of bar pies with their small slices, this feat was feasible, but still a little challenging. It was an entertaining tradition. (Side note: the Yelp reviews of Capone’s are a fantastic time capsule.)

As real estate prices in Williamsburg have skyrocketed since that time, it’s no surprise that Capone’s is long gone. However, another place we would frequent was the Alligator Lounge on Metropolitan Avenue, and it’s still around. Their motto: “Free. Pizza. Every. Day.” It’s a laid-back bar with a pool table and an impressive-looking wood-fired oven. I’m happy it still exists.

Free bar pies in Brooklyn. Alligator Lounge on the left and The Charleston on the right, where they’re $1 after 7PM.

Nearby, The Charleston on Bedford Avenue has free pies up to 7PM. After that, they’re $1. It’s a similar scene to the Alligator Lounge. I’m not sure what type of oven they use, but they do have a dough mixer there, which is always a good sign.

Out in the burbs and beyond

Far from the LCD Soundsystem vibes of Capone’s, the previously mentioned Colony Grill in Connecticut is like an Irish pub/VFW hall with great pizza. Colony was opened by Irish-Americans in 1935 in Stamford, Connecticut. They claim that they wanted to sell the food of their immigrant employees, including Italians, and the bar pie was created to serve a pizza that could fit on a bar top. Their website describes the pies like this, “not too much cheese or sauce so that slices can be easily managed with one hand, fittingly leaving the other hand free to hold a glass.” They were a huge success and Colony now has nine locations along the East Coast.

Bar pies at Colony Grill in Port Chester, New York with my dad and brother.

Beekman Ale House in Sleepy Hollow, New York is a newcomer to the scene, opening in 2021. My friend Matt Di Gesu tipped me off to this spot, and he’s a trusted source for all things pizza. Matt is the founder/GM of Pizzeria La Rosa in New Rochelle, New York and he makes some of the best pizza around. People definitely go to Beekman for the pizza as it’s very good, but it is definitely still a pub that people frequent simply to gather at a welcoming third space.

That’s what Matt and I recently did. We caught up with each other over a couple beers and some pizza. Others were doing the same. Some were watching a game on the tv. Some weren’t having pizza at all. In this situation, it felt unnatural to spend an extensive amount of time taking pictures. So, my one and only picture isn’t great, but I assure you, the pizza is (and so is Matt).

A very tasty bar pie at Beekman Ale House in Sleepy Hollow, New York.

I can’t speak to the scenes in the Midwest or the South Shore Massachusetts from experience, but Emmett’s on Grove in New York City’s West Village is making Chicago-style tavern pies and they’re fantastic. The restaurant opened after the success of the original Emmett’s, which serves a variety of Chicago dishes, notably deep dish pizza.

I would say the only significant difference between the Metro NYC bar pies and the Midwest tavern pies is the way they are cut. Tavern-style pizzas are cut in a grid pattern. One might argue another noticeable difference is that the Chicago bar pies are thinner and crispier. More of a cracker-style crust.

In Chicago, Revolution Brewing’s Director of Communications John Carruthers (@nachosandlager) began the charitable initiative called Crust Fund Pizza outside of his 9-5 at the brewery to support “the people who make Chicago a better place to live.” He makes tavern-style pizzas once a month and has raised over $60,000. He even landed himself on an episode of the Food Network’s show Chopped. Beer nerds take note: if you order and mention you’re into beer, he might through in some freebies for you. Check out his webpage and social media. Support if you can.  

Tavern-style pizzas at Emmett’s on Grove in New York City.

Crust Fund Pizza by John Carruthers in Chicago. Sources: Crust Fund Pizza website and John’s Instagram page, @nachosandlager.

Down to the crust

While I love places like Colony and Emmet’s on Grove, to me, a real “bar pie” will always be like the free pizzas I used to have years ago, or even at Beekman Ale House. They’re good pizzas at a place you’re hanging at with some friends having drinks. You don’t need to talk about the pizza or post pictures of it on Instagram. Like the drink you’re having, the pizza should be an accompaniment to good conversation, not the focus.

(Note: this post was updated to make reference to South Shore Massachusetts bar pizza, which was a glaring omission from the original version.)

Hoyt Avenue is Hit. Again.

Hoyt Avenue in Mamaroneck, New York flooded yesterday. Again. The street is the current home to Half Time Beverage and New York Craft Coalition (NYCC) (a new venture that includes Marlowe Ales and Barclay Brewing.) Without change, this won’t be the last time it floods.

But what level of change is needed and who is responsible? Do they need to install some detention basins to capture the water on the Hoyt Avenue property? Does the region need to implement green infrastructure measures to naturally cope with stormwater runoff? Does the world need to take actions that will meaningfully fight climate change? For a small brewery, there’s a lot that you simply cannot control.

One might say you can choose where to open your business, including areas not prone to flooding, but that’s easier said than done. For starters, there are local zoning regulations that dictate where land uses can be located. That immediately eliminates a substantial amount of land, and in areas that developed before the advent of rail and truck shipping, it often means being near a waterbody where industrial development was historically located.

Flooding in front of Half Time/NYCC September 29, 2023 (Image: Reuters).

In the case of Halftime and NYCC, it’s in the floodplain of the Sheldrake River. Not surprisingly, it has flooded in the past, including the four feet of water it brought into the space in September of 2021 thanks to Hurricane Ida. Back then, Decadent Ales occupied the NYCC space.  

The recent storm didn’t bring as much flooding to the Sheldrake floodplain. And while other places in the area like Brooklyn were hit hard, to my knowledge, Strong Rope and Wild East in the low-lying Gowanus neighborhood were the only breweries that reported flooding.  

Marlowe Ales hasn’t had it easy lately. After contract brewing with Twelve Percent Beer Project, the business found a home in Nyack, New York, but it was short-lived after one of the oddest closings the industry has likely seen. In the middle of service one night, the landlord had the business shut down after just six months of being open, leaving them without a home. But that’s another story.

Marlowe Ales posted these images on their Instagram account showing the clean up after the flooding.

A new opportunity sprung up with Barclay Brewing to take over the Decadent Ales space in Mamaroneck and the New York Craft Coalition was born. It’s in a location carved out of Half Time, which is a retail beer emporium with another location in Poughkeepsie, New York. The two breweries share the space, which includes a small brewhouse, as well as a taproom with a restaurant.

Securing space for a small brewery that is affordable and allowed by zoning is not easy. Just like when people search for their personal home, there are some tradeoffs. Half Time’s space has a lot of positives going for it. The flooding was likely something NYCC was aware of, but accepted knowing that you will never find the perfect location.  

It’s unclear what’s next for Half Time and NYCC. Half Time has already reopened, but what are long-term measures they are thinking about to avoid future flooding on the site? Marlowe noted on their social media that the flooding damaged equipment, finished products, and raw ingredients. They’re closed until further notice, except for sales of products to go. For the time being, support for them/NYCC can be given by buying their beer and merchandise. You can do that here.

An earlier post had me flipping through an old book that brings up memories that are a bit nostalgic now. And though I’ve had Michael Jackson’s Great Beer Guide for around twenty years, it still fascinates me. I thought it would be fun to share some of my favorite drinkware from the book.   

Published in 2000, the Great Beer Guide is a fantastic book and offers a nice snapshot of what the beer world was like at the time. It does this by offering a brief overview of 500 beers from around the world.

While many think of the United States beer culture as still being in the dark ages in the year 2000, there’s an impressive number of beers from the States represented in the book. Though Jackson may have been a bit polite in some cases, there are many that are or were, excellent.

In addition to the 500 brews, the book also provides some other thoughts about beer that he explores in greater detail in some of his other works like Ultimate Beer. This sharing of similar content may be because both of these books in particular were published by DK.

Though there are many iconic vessels in the book that I appreciate (Tripel Karmeliet, for example), I decided to share some less obvious examples here.

Enough of the background. Here they are.

Berliner Bürgerbräu and Dock Street

With their colored handles, these glasses give a little flair to glassware that you don’t find these days in the beer world. Though there are very slight differences, these two are incredibly similar in shape, which is also something I appreciate.  

Jackson explains that in the case of Bürgerbräu, the red handle was used for their Export lager, and customers would order a “robin redbreast” (Rotkehlchen, in German, which is actually the name of this particular beer.)

It would be cool to see breweries/manufacturers experimenting with colored glassware again. Perhaps gold or silver handles with a matching rim.

Fraoch And Grozet

Though these are not my favorite looking vessels, I greatly appreciate the use of materials (ceramic and leather) and forms that were in widespread use before the proliferation of glass. Outside of Bavaria, few beer drinking cultures were still using non-glass drinking vessels once glass became cheap and readily available.

Both of these brands are produced by Williams Bros. Brewing Company in Scotland (Alba Scots Pine Ale is another beer of theirs featured in the book.)

Fullers and Jennings

These mugs have a presence that are at the same time sophisticated and substantial. They just seem to command respect. Though the lack of curvature is not ideal, there’s something about them that draws me in.

Guinness

There’s nothing wrong with the classic tulip Guinness pint glass, but this stout pokal/goblet is a bit cooler looking and is a little more unique, which an iconic beer deserves. Guinness still sells a glass in a similar design, but I like the one in Jackson’s book better.

Hoepfner

I like the artwork on this glass and also the nonic-ish bump.

Königsbacher

Having a first and last name beginning with a K, I’m drawn in by this glass’ K stem. It’s surprising we don’t see stuff like this more often.

Mitchell’s

I don’t know why, but I was always fascinated by these plastic bottles in my early years of beer nerdom. And yes, this post is about drinkware, but I feel this is worth mentioning here.

I always kept an eye out for these bottles not realizing that there was zero chance of me ever finding them in a store where I lived. Though that’s the main reason I’m mentioning Mitchell’s, the branded glassware depicted with the beer is very nice.

Okocim

This Polish beer is depicted with the book’s only Tübinger. Not just any old Tübinger, but one with a lid (called a Zinndeckel in German). Not sure we need more of these, but still pretty cool.

St. Georgen Bräu

I’m admittedly a sucker for St. Georgen Bräu, and I love drinking it out of a stein in particular.  In this case, the shape and artwork all click for me. I’d love to get my hands on one of these.

Other observationS From the book

-        Black Sheep of the UK and Domus of Belgium have beers depicted in Weizen glasses.

-        The book is short on dimple mugs, particularly the Czech-style Tübinger (there’s just the Okocim) and British Dimple pots (there are none).

-        Despite the American notion that nonics are the ubiquitous UK beer glass, there are very few in the book. They include Fuller’s (for a different beer than above) and Woodforde (though there are a couple other nonics that are unbranded).

 Most UK/Irish glasses are presented in tulip pints and shakers (aka, conicals.) This includes Adnams, Bank’s, Beamish, Cobbold, Greene King, Murphy’s, Pitfields, Sam Smiths, and Ushers for the former, and Bass, Batemans, Cain’s, Caledonian (Scotland), Charles Wells, Eldridge Pope, Highgate & Walsall, Hopback, King and Barnes, Marston’s, Shepherd Neame, Youngs for the latter.

 -        Of course, a significant number of US breweries are presented in shakers including the following: Alaskan, Anchor, Bert Grants, Fish Tale Ales, Geary’s, Great Lakes, Hale’s, Independence, Magic Hat, North Coast, Odell, Oliver, Portland, Pyramid, Red Hook, Rogue, Sierra Nevada, Southampton, and Tabernash.

 -        Malt Shovel from Australia is in a shaker as is Haecht from Belgium. Though it may seem odd for a Belgian brewery to be featured in a shaker, it is classed up with a gold rim.

-        There are a good amount of pokals in the book, including Ayinger, Bacchus, Bitburger, and Harvey’s.

 -        There are also lots of Willibechers, including Alfa and Brand from the Netherlands, Cristal from Belgium, Flatlanders, Gordon Biersch and Penn from the US, and Gambrinus from Czechia.

I’m curious what a 2023 edition of this book would look like. Probably a lot more British and Czech-style dimple mugs, Tekus, and snifter/tulip style glasses. What are some of your favorite examples of brewery drinkware past or present?  

Image courtesy of Stiegl.

It’s surprising that Stiegl Goldbräu hasn’t caught on with all the hype over lager the last few years. Austria as a whole seems off the radar for most beer drinkers. But the landlocked central European country makes world-class beer and ranks second in per capita beer consumption next to Czechia.  

I doubt many Austrians are bothered by this oversight. It seems they’re content to keep their beer to themselves (this is total speculation).

By and large, the beer style they drink is their version of Märzen, a version that differs from brews that bear that name in Germany. It’s an Austrian pale lager, and Goldbräu is one example that is available in the States.

Pale lager? That’s right. If you think Austrians are drinking amber Vienna Lager, they’re not. Not much, anyway. It’s an anomaly there.  

(For more reading on Austrian beer culture past and present, I recommend this post by Adrian Tierney-Jones and this one by Jeff Alworth.)

Tasting Goldbräu, one familiar with pale Czech or German lager will not find something vastly unfamiliar. Though proximity is no guarantee for similarity, the resemblance shouldn’t come as a surprise as Salzburg, where Stiegl is based, is just a few hours from Munich and Pilsen. There are subtle differences though.

Austrian Märzen is not Helles. It has a little more oomph. It’s not Czech pale lager. It lacks the character of Czech hops and likely has not undergone as much decoction. It’s also not a Maibock, lacking that deep malt character. It’s perhaps most like a modern Festbier, just a little lower in ABV.

Austrians love to use Austrian-grown ingredients, which helps distinguish their beer a bit. Goldbräu is no exception. The beer has been in production since 1912 and it features hops from the Mühlviertel region and barley from the Weinviertel region. Water is from the mountains around Salzburg.

It’s an all-Pilsner malt beer that is accentuated with a decoction mash. These days, that makes it different than most German pale lagers. Not the Czechs, though.

The beer is hopped with Magnum, Aurora and Hallertauer Tradition hops. Sure, these aren’t landrace varieties, which were decimated long ago, but as we all know, ingredients vary when grown in different regions.

The 12-degree beer (5-percent ABV) is spunded for natural carbonation and has an aroma with a touch of spice and citrus/lime. These carry through to the taste that’s supported by a pleasant bready/straw flavor. It’s crystal clear and has a nice bitter finish.

It’s worthwhile to note that Stiegl beers bear the “Slow Brewing” quality seal from the Slow Brewing Institute. The institute promotes properly brewed beer and breweries that incorporate sustainable business practices. The institute’s website states “the Slow Brewing seal of approval begins where the Purity Law ends” adding, “slow brewers are committed to slow fermentation and gentle maturation.” Cool.

Stiegl Pokal. Image source Stiegl.

Aside from the fact that all this adds up to Goldbräu being a fantastic beer, I’m drawn in by the brewery’s whole aesthetic. It feels timelessly cool. In particular, I love the brewery’s typography and its glassware. Especially its pokal-style Pilsner glass (see immediately above). However, the brewery would recommend you enjoy Goldbräu with their Stiegl Becher (see the top photo above), which is essentially the same glass. Still footed, but with no stem.

I’ve wanted the stemmed glass for a while, and my birthday is next month. Just saying.

The shaker pint and the Teku are two of the most despised beer glasses, and besides both being glass vessels used for drinking, they have nearly nothing in common. One is an incredibly basic shape; a conical tumbler that has been around forever for all kinds of uses. The other is a modern creation. An angular, stemmed glass made specifically for beer.

Neither are worthy of much loathing (I mean, they’re just glasses, people), yet beer nerds have very strong opinions on them. I find them interesting as they are so different, and, at the same time, so debated in the contemporary beer world. (I think. Probably. Right? Is this just my perception? Probably the shaker more than the Teku.)

Shakers have been part of beer culture for much longer than Tekus. Some are better than others due to their manufacturing. Countless breweries in the United States have used them. Many breweries that sell/use more interesting glassware will still sell/use shaker pints.

The term “pints” is used loosely here. They can come in varying sizes, which is part of the reason some don’t care for it. The unpredictability of what a “pint” is when you order one. That’s a matter that is formally regulated in other beer-drinking cultures.

Do they add much to your drinking experience? No, not really. But do they really detract to the level that they deserve the hatred they receive? No, not really. Knocking others for using them is a little gatekeepy. I was probably like this at one point. I also shunned Nirvana when I was a kid because they were on a major label. I grew up. Shaker haters can too. They’re not that bad.

Some of the criticisms are that they lack features that elevate the drinking experience (aroma, e.g.) and that their thick composition creates issues with temperature. An argument is that the thicker glass retains the heat from one’s hand more so than thinner glass. This assumes people hold their beer the entire time they drink it and will cradle the beer long enough for this to become an issue.  

Tekus were created in 2006 in Italy and are produced by the German glassware company Rastal. Technically, the name is spelled TeKu, representing the names of the two creators, Teo Musso and Lorenzo “Kuaska” Dabove. Musso is the brewer/owner of the Italian brewery Birra Baladin.

The websites for both Rastal and Baladin include fluffy language about how great the Teku glass is. It’s pretty. It has a modern look and works well if you like/want a stemmed glass. I like that it was specifically designed for beer and the way the curve at the top hugs the lip. Beyond that, I don’t think there are any major differences between it and most other stemmed beer/wine glasses with a decent bowl shape. This may be the reason why others gripe about it. Is it really necessary? The main complaint people seem to have about the Teku is its shape, which many people find a bit pompous, or simply unattactive.

Some of the content in this table might appear a little contradictory. But I suppose it’s possible that, for example, the Teku can be elegant and showy at the same time. Likewise, the shaker has a simple design that can be beneficial and dull at the same time. Yes, it’s basic, but sometimes basic is cool too. Tekus may help concentrate aroma, but if you have an already aromatic beer, you will still get a great sense of that if you hover your beak over a shaker.

This post is by no means a call for beer bars to start making use of either of these glasses. There are plenty of other options that are better suited for most. But if a beer bar were to use a shaker pint, it’s worthwhile to invest in a quality product. For example, Rastal makes Tekus, but they also offer a variety of shaker-style glasses that are high quality.

And just like all other glassware, once you’ve made the investment, you need to properly care for it even if it’s a shaker (i.e. no stacking, properly cleaning, etc.) Most importantly, as a customer, try not to let glassware style preferences get you bent out of shape when you’re served a beer. If you can put your feelings aside, there’s a pretty good chance you can still enjoy your beer no matter what the glass is. With all the challenges we face in life, glassware styles are something to enjoy and celebrate, but never something that should cause an uptick in our blood pressure. Except for those goddamn cheap UK-style dimple mugs everyone uses for lager.