As a nation of drunks, we tend to overromanticize and idealize the neighborhood bar. You should never have to fight for a barstool. The beer should flow freely and you should be able to indulge in fried delicacies at all hours. It’s not a special destination, there’s not a dress code (on the contrary, walking into this mystical place should be as comfortable as putting on a pair of old sweats), and it’s hard to find one bar that will pack all these qualities into four booze-soaked walls.

The object of my undying affection? I found it four years ago at Bayard’s Ale House, a bar as it should be.

In 2006, Bayard’s replaced the former Sazerac House, which had a steady following (including John Belushi and Norman Mailer, according to The Villager) for 41 years. It still retains some the Sazerac’s old Village clientele—upon my first visit, I shared the long wooden banquette with an aging transvestite—and looks like it’s been around much longer than the past four years, which makes sense, considering the building in which Bayard’s resides was built in 1826.

bayard's ale house
The interior is suitably dim with exposed brick, a wooden bar with brass accents, and a tin ceiling festooned with hanging white Christmas lights. But the banks of windows curving around the facade of its corner perch at Hudson and Charles keep Bayard’s from veering off into dive-ville (see Crow, Stoned and Whiskey Pub, Nancy for stellar examples of this genre), with light streaming in for people-watching on sunny afternoons or summer happy hours.
>> But what do you eat at Bayard’s Ale House? Read on. >>