Mikey B's

As he usually does, Mr. Mix asked the barmaid. "What do you recommend for a mixed drink? Something sweet...not too fruity...."

The relative fruitiness of Mr. Mix aside, Terri, an attractive, dirty blonde barmaid at Mikey B's took it on as a creative challenge. She gave him a drink that she called a Sicilian Kiss, which was, basically, cranberry juice and Southern Comfort. Mix enjoyed the cocktail, but Mr. Draft was mildly confounded by its' name. A Sicilian Kiss...okay, kiss- got that part- its' red. But what does a bourbon mix that originated in New Orleans and is now distilled in Tennessee, or cranberry juice- the official state drink of Massachusetts- have to do with Sicily? Research began...Mr. Draft found out that the mixing of Southern Comfort and cranberry juice originated in 1939, to coincide with the opening of Gone With The Wind, Garnished with a wedge of lime, it was originally called the Scarlett O'Hara. And that nomenclature makes so much more sense....Scarlett...scarlet red like the juice...and the O'Hara conjures up images of the Deep South...and its' comforts. Sorry, Terri...the Sicilian Kiss name just doesn't cut it.

In any case, Terri was an amiable professional and all the Barflies in attendance were happy with her, and just about everything else at Mikey B's. The selection of drafts included Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, Magic Hat #9, Stella Artois, and Shock Top, as well as the usual swill preferred by Mr, Pisswater: Bud and Bud Lite. Mikey B's also offers a good selection of bar grub, such as nachos, burgers, sandwiches, wings, and fries.

Mr. Draft would be remiss to fail to mention that Mikey B's has, collectively, the most beautiful waitresses in city (with all due props to the lovely wait staff at Cork and On the Rocks...)

Mikey B's is a new, notable and happening addition to the city's bar scene, located near the merger of Acushnet Avenue and Ashley Boulevard, near G&S Pizza. Stop in, enjoy the hearty grub, maybe a Sicilian Kiss-- that is, a Scarlett O'Hara--- and enjoy the eye candy. Yeah, Draft isn't being too PC this review... Mikey B's get an 8. Roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mr. 3BOES, Mr. Mix, Mr. Brew-haha, Mr. Pisswater, Mr. Merlot, Mr. Cork.

South Side Annie's

More or less verbatim dialogue:

Mr. Draft: "Give me a Stella Artois."

Hilda the barmaid: "How about 'Hello...how are you?...May I have a Stella Artois, please?' "

And so, Mr. Draft received a quick lesson in conversational barroom etiquette at South Side Annie's and the Barflies were off to a good night. In reality, the Barflies approached Annie's with a bit of trepidation, as it is one of those bars that is often buzzed by, in a rather rough south end neighborhood. But as is often the case, our apprehensions were unfounded. Up until about eight years ago, a place called the Owl's Nest existed in that space, and that place had a reputation deserving of trepidation...and caution. But now, the roughest element seems to be Hilda's lesson in manners. South Side Annie's is actually a very warm, inviting dark wood saloon, which has a large television screen positioned above the bar, and an adjoining game room with pool table, video games and Foosball. The bar is festooned with an admirable collection of license plates from many states, and a digital reader board, which emits messages concerning specials and a quote-of-the-day. Mr. Draft enjoyed his bottle of Stella Artois, not overly disappointed that the draft selection was limited to Sam, Bud, Bud Lite, and Coors, as an adequate selection of bottle beers was available. Mr. Whiskey embraced his moniker and ordered a Jack-and-Coke. South Side Annies also gets a nod of approval for the traditional bar room offering of pickled hard boiled eggs, as well as stuffed peppers, as low-cost snacks. On the night of Mr. Draft's schoolin' by the cute and sassy Hilda, pitchers of Sam Adams were available for $5.00. Pleasantly surprised by all that awaited within South Side Annie's, the Barflies give it an 8. Roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mr. Merlot, Mr. Mix, Mr. 3BOES, Mr. Whiskey, Mr. Brew-haha

Mi Antojo

Located in an old storefront that looks like it was shipped in from a San Antonio barrio, Mi Antojo is located in a rundown, tenement-packed neighborhood, right off Route 18, on Rivet Street. And it's a fun bar, and even better restaurant. As there was not a draft to be had...but plenty of bottled and canned beer-Corona, Dos Equis, Negro Modela among them- Mr. Draft settled for a Red Eye, a half-and-half mixture of beer and tomato juice, supposedly popular in Mexico, although the tomato juice is often substituted with Clamato, and a shot of tequila is often added. There was a language issue...the barmaid, Roxie, spoke no English and the Spanish of the Barflies is weak. Luckily, a friend of Roxie's- a woman by the name of Gloria- jumped into the fray- and translated the orders for Roxie, who did an adequate job. And Roxie was cute.
Unlike, No Problemo in downtown New Bedford- which the Barflies are quite fond of- there is nothing trendy or Mexican nouvelle cuisiney about Mi Antojo. It is decorated in the manner I expect a Mexican restaurant - in Mexico- to look like...without wrestler's masks or other tongue-in-cheek kitsch. The sides sampled at the bar- a thick, chunky guacamole and a esophagus burnin' salsa were excellent.
Visit Mi Antojo , drink at the bar...eat some good food with it. As for the language barrier...Mr. Draft just doesn't care when it's this authentic. It get an 8.
Roll Call: Mr. Draft. Mr. Mix, Mr.3BOES, Mr. Elixir, Mr. Moonshine

No Problemo

After a dry summer hiatus, the Barflies have reconvened, and the membership has grown. The usuals suspects have returned, for the most part...Mr. Cork, Mr. Merlot, Mr. Mix, Mr. Sazurac, Mr. 3BOES, Mr. Elixer , and Mr. Draft, the primary contributor to this blog. Mr. Greyhound is MIA, perhaps in a blue funk about the closing of his beloved Merlot (on William St.) or frustrated that most bars don't keep grapefruit juice in stock. Mr. Martini is unavailable as he is presently teaching a class on usual gathering night (that guy's priorities are seriously fucked up!) However, two new recruits have entered the fray...Mr. Brew-haha and Mr. Whiskey.

This expanded group made it's first stop No Problemo, at the corner of William and Purchase Streets in downtown New Bedford. No Probelmo has been a fixture on that corner for a number of years serving some damn good burritos, enchiladas and other Mexican foods. Recently, the small establishment doubled it's size, got a liquor license, and put in a pretty good bar. And that bar is an very good addition to the downtown drinkin' scene.

The bar itself is a classy brushed copper. The walls are painted in an earthy shade, something Sherwin-Williams probably calls "terra cotta" and those walls are decorated with an array of kitschy, fun and stereotypically south-of-the border icons:the ceramic head of a Mexican wrestler, a black velvet matador painting, an O'Keefian cattle skull, and the inevitable saints.

The bartender. a young and capable server, was knowledgeable about the beers and made suggestions. He served a young and hip crowd (except for the Barflies- most who aren't "young"---there are actually a couple of Barflies who are also members of another hallowed institution---AARP, and as to "hip"...remember the old, classic Tower of Power funk hit What Is Hip?...well, some Barflies remember it...and, just asking, what's a "Coldplay?" But, I digress...

Mr.Draft was disappointed that there were no drafts available, but there was an extensive bottled beer list- 41-count 'em- 41 beers were available, including the common macro brewery offerings , as well as Anchor Steam, Sierra Nevada, Smuttynose, Lienehfiugel's, Modelo Negro and a host of others. Mr. Mix, as could be expected, indulged in a bit of fruity pink liquid, that looked like a Shirley Temple, but was, in actuality, a Watermelon Sangria, and enjoyed it like any good girl-drink drinker would. Despite calling himself Mr. Whiskey, Mr. Whiskey drank bottled beer, but he has admitted to a love of Jack Daniels, so it is expected that he will earn that moniker in the upcoming weeks. Mr. Merlot enjoyed the red he was served, happy that it wasn't a tiny bottle of Sutter Home. Of course, No Probelmo serves some great bar food, and the 'Flies shared some guacomole and chips...special guest and Honorary Barfly, Mr. Lupulin (Hop Oil) - now in London- had what is likely to be the best meal of Mexican food he will have until he returns from across the Atlantic.

The younger Barflies didn't seem to be bothered by it, but there was a happily loud and steady din of conversation and subdued music, that made it difficult for the curmudgeonly, old bastard contingent of the Barflies to carry on a conversation of their own.

No Problemo is a vibrant and welcome addition to the downtown NB bar scene and it rates an 8.
Roll call: Mr. Draft, Mr. Mix, Mr, Merlot, Mr, 3BOES, Mr. Elixer , Mr. Sazurac, Mr. Brew-haha, Mr. Whiskey and Honorary Barfly Mr. Hop Oil.

The Foxy Lady

This establishment has two unique distinctions. Located on Popes Island, on Route 6, just shy of the Fairhaven town line, it the easternmost bar within the New Bedford city limits. And it's the only strip joint. As Mr. Cork expressed some social uneasiness about the visit, and Mr. Martini was running late, and Mr. Mix claimed to be suffering some gastrointestinal disturbance, and Mr. Merlot was eating antibiotics in order to fend off Lyme disease, and Mr. 3BOES was MIA, only the most intrepid of the Barflies- Mr. Draft and Mr. Sazurac- forked over a $7. cover to venture forth into the "gentlemen's club." Let's face it...in an establishment of this nature, the draft selection is not really that important...which is just as well...as there was no draft selection. Bud and Bud Lite were available in bottles. Ensconced at the bar (as opposed to the chairs at the edge of the stage, where many of the other predominately male patrons seemed to prefer to be), Mr. Draft and Mr. Sazurac sipped gin-and-tonics and enjoyed the view. Having once visited a dingy joint in New Milford, Connecticut with work mates, and going to a sleazy stripper bar in Queens, New York, and seeing the Bada Bing on The Sopranos. Mr. Draft is hardly a connoisseur of adult entertainment venues. The skeleton crew of Barflies was pleasantly surprised to see that both the place and the ...umm...ladies...were attractive and well-maintained. The atmosphere of the Foxy Lady is inviting in a low-key disco mode, with subdued lighting in the right places. The dancers are either naked, or on their way to that state. The barmaid and waitresses wear something that is black, low-cut, high-rising and provocative, almost dominatrix-like. It worked. As is to be expected, security is of concern at the Foxy Lady. A deadly shooting and a stand-off with the police, involving a jealous ex-boyfriend of an employee, occurred there some time ago and now one goes through a metal-detecting scan before one can enter. Affiliated with a Providence club of the same name, the Foxy Lady is entertaining in its' own way, clean, safe, and inexpensive...unless you choose to stick dollar bills under garters. The Foxy Lady advertises on its' marquee such thing as upcoming "special guests," as well as prime rib Wednesdays, couples' nights, male stripper events, and trivia nights. Mr. Draft is almost tempted to return to see how they pull off doing trivia in a strip joint! The Foxy Lady is very good at doing what it does and it rates a 8 for that. (roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mr. Sazurac)

The Garden Sports Pub

As one travels down Union Street and passes the neon sign illuminated window of the Garden, one would not know how large the place is within. There are a number of pool tables and other barroom distractions, as well as a big horseshoe shaped bar. There, however, is no garden of either the floral or vegetable variety, so Mr. Draft, noting the sports-centric theme of the bar assumes that the name is a reference to the Boston "Gah-den." Mr. Cork was once again greeted with enthusiasm when the Barflies entered. No offense to Manny at Campino but this old acquaintance of Mr. Cork's was much cuter. As it turns out, the blond babe bartender, Ann Marie, used to babysit for Mr. Cork's sons, which quickly ended Barfly speculation on Mr. Cork's reputation as a ladies' man. Ann Marie was quite friendly and conversational as well as very pleasing to the eye. Mr. Draft took note of an odd drink being sipped by a nearby patron. It was a Windex-colored concoction in a large translucent plastic cup, with a can of Red Bull half- submerged in it. The patron told Mr. Draft that it contained gin, vodka, rum, Blue Curacao and, of course, Red Bull. It was called a Trash Can, and he said it was appropriately named, as one "will getya trashed." The draft selection was strong including the usual suspects as well as Magic Hat #9, Sierra Nevada, and Smithwick's. Like nearby competitors FINS and the Catwalk, the Garden is populated by a young, attractive crowd, looking for a good time, in every conceivable sense of the term. For its' enviable draft selection, for its spaciousness and unpretensiousness, for the somewhat hip crowd, and for Ann Marie, the Garden gets an 8. Roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mr. Mix. Mr. Cork, Mr. Sazurac)

United Fisherman's Club

The UFC, established long ago by a few fisherman, was, until recently, a dark and smoky place. Anti-smoking ordinance and a bold renovation changed that. Located on the industrial end of Orchard Street, the UFC has been transformed into a brightly lit and tastefully appointed bar and function room, appropriate for a party, wedding reception or mayoral inauguration celebration. On the evening of the Barflies' visit, a friendly and vivacious Brazilian barmaid- Ireni- warmly welcomed the crew and poured our drinks. Mr. Merlot took note of the substantial wine list, which offered a good variety of Portuguese vinos, all at excellent price. The Barflies snacked on small bowls of battered codfish, at the remarkable price of fifty-cents each. Mr. Mix drank a drink suggested by Ireni, in an enthralling accent, that was similar to a mojito. It was made with sugar and muddled lime but substituted Brazilian "moonshine" for the usual rum. Mr. Mix seems to recall that the drink was called a Hyperion, but the drink had such dizzying effect on him, that his recollection is not to be trusted. Ireni warned him to sip...slowly. He didn't. A few men sat at the bar, but most of the customers, mostly older Portuguese men, sat at tables playing cribbage or dominoes. A pool table was available but unused. The UFC is a pleasant and expansive barroom that fills a niche in the New Bedford bar scene..it rates an 8. (Roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mr. Cork, Mr. Mix, Mr. Merlot, Mr.3BOES)

Octane

It should be noted that Octane (and Incognito) were visited by a larger-than-usual contingent of Barflies, as, in a nod to the holiday season, wives and significant others were invited to join us. Ten of us squeezed into the small, cozy bar, situated on Acushnet Avenue, a block north of St. Anthony's Church. Although space was at a premium, it was comfortable and Octane proved to be a welcome and formidable addition to the multitude of bars, clubs and taverns on "the Ave." Served by a lovely young woman, Kelly, she did her best to tend to all the Barflies, that swarmed in (in pairs) and gathered at the window end of the bar. Mr Draft ordered a Wachusett Blueberry Ale, noticing that the draft choices also included two from Sam Adams, beyond the usual macro-brew selections. Unsure what she wanted, Mrs. Draft accepted Kelly's suggestion of a hot coffee drink, with several liquors added, that kicked it above the tired, old Irish coffee. (Mr. Draft is of the mind that Irish coffee is a waste of perfectly good coffee, Bailey's, and whipped cream, all of which are better enjoyed in other applications). Mr. (and Mrs. Merlot) partook in a substansial, fortified Portuguese wine. Mr. Cork opted for a bottle of Portuguese beer, and Mrs. Cork, disturbed by a wine that had seemingly turned bad, resorted to ginger ale. Octane is a little gem, situated in a transitory neighborhood, surrounded by a bodega, tenement buildings, a flophouse, a 7-Eleven, and a few boarded up storefronts. But it is worth the visit...the interior is beautifully maintained, the decor is simple and classy, and the bar is well-stocked. There is a pool table in a back alcove, which was well-played on the night of the Barflies' visit. Mr. Elixir, the official "munchies" critic, was disappointed that a few advertised items (the chourico sandwich, the meat pie) were not available, but he enjoyed a stuffed quahog, that he described as having "nice chunks of meat...warm, bready" but in need of a bit more spice. It seems as though the owner and staff of Octane have high hopes not only for the bar, but for the neighborhood itself....a hope that Mr. Draft also sustains. Octane, despite Mrs. Cork's fizzy wine, rates an 8. (Roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mrs. Draft, Mr. Cork, Mrs. Cork, Mr. Merlot, Mrs. Merlot, Mr. Mix, Mrs. Mix, Mr. Elixir, Madame Mai-Tai)

Striker's Pub (at the Wonder Bowl)

As one passes through the cacophony of the bowling alley, loud with rolling balls, crashing pins and cheers, one does not expect to find a charming and quietly sophisticated bar nestled within. The Barflies were pleasantly surprised by Striker's Pub, a somewhat cavernous venue, with a decent draft selection and a wry, cocktail savvy barmaid. Mr. Draft settled on a Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat
, which was just a tad bit too fruity, as if a shot of the juice from a jar of maraschino cherries had been added. The barmaid informed Mr. Draft and his colleagues that Striker's hosted a comedy show once-a-month, as well as featuring regular karaoke nights. The dark, paneled pub offered pleasant distractions such as a couple of pool tables, a large screen television, and free popcorn, which captured Mr. Mix' attention like oats do a horse. One does not have to be a bowler, or a fan of karaoke or comedy to enjoy this place. The staff is cheerful and the other patrons open and conversational. Striker's is a formidable bar, rating a strong 8. And there's plenty of parking! (Roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mr. Mix, Mr. Cork)

Cork

One of New Bedford's nicest bars, the Barflies descended upon it with joy. Cork is upscale, with great tapas and fine selection of potables, but certainly not overly-pricey. The bartender, an affable young man, (too affable for some of Mr. Draft's colleagues) was able to explain to Mr. Draft was grappa is, and gave his hearty opinion on some of the nearby competition. (Hey, Mr. Draft likes a strong opinion now and then...) The bartender provided some (free0 munchies that were potato chip-like but shaped like wood shavings....hell, i I don't care if they were real wood shavings, they tasted great. Mr. Draft opted for a Belgian bottled beer, a Hoegardden which was nicely hoppy and satisfying, Cork has a pleasant, upscale feel to it without feeling "too-much"... it could easily compete with any of the nicest bars on Newport's Thames Street. Beyond the bartender, Mr. Draft and his colleagues took note of a beautiful blond hostess and equally beautiful brunette waitress....pushing our ranking on PAS (physical attractiveness of staff) beyond the highest ranking of 10 to 11, (Insert This Is Spinal Tap! joke here) All in all, Mr. Draft rates this really sweet bar an 8.