PlanJam!From your screen to the scene

It was last summer, on one of those balmy evenings that makes you glad you live in a pedestrian town. I was walking up Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn, probably running an errand or going on a torta run at nearby Girasol Bakery, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a new bar, right in my neighborhood! A neat-looking logo announced the place as Quarter Bar, and a quick glance in the window confirmed that the place was a classy new joint, the likes of which you’d find in Williamsburg or Manhattan. With the exception of a few newish places like Living Room, the bar options in my neighborhood are usually limited to the Tabern Salvadoreño down the street and a perpetually empty sports bar, so this was welcome news.

I gathered up my posse and headed over to Quarter Bar the next chance I got. The first thing we noticed is the remodeled interior, which is warm and wood-paneled, with tasteful antique accents lending an old timey feeling. That combined with the meat pies listed on the menu next to the pints give you the distinct sensation you’ve stepped into olde time London by mistake. The skillful bartender in residence seems to be the only person running the place, and on the rare occasions that I’ve seen someone else tending bar, he’s been sitting right across from them, having a drink. Now that’s dedication. But beyond dedication, it’s his craftsmanship that’s gained him fans and followers. The specialty drinks are the real draw at Quarter Bar for this reason, and the fact that they are made with quality ingredients (the Hot Buttered Rum doesn’t skimp on the real butter) and eschew the sickly-sweet, unlike a great number of bars. However, the above-average beer selection is a godsend for someone like me, for whom mixed drinks, although delicious, are basically a hangover in a glass.

We migrated to the back patio, which seems to usually be where the party is. Wooden benches, tables and chairs surround an oddly appropriate bathtub planter under the watchful eye of some poor neighbor’s back porch. The community atmosphere really gets going once the second round of 2-for-1 Happy Hour drinks sets in. People start bumming cigarettes, joining in each others’ conversations, sharing drunken advice and newspapers. One time a girl who was leaving even gave me her second drink, a towering Hefeweizen, which I was happy to accept. After the second beer or so, pies start appearing on the patrons’ tables. These small empanada-like delicacies are crafted with care by local baker Dub Pies, and are made in the style of New Zealand’s and Australia’s hugely popular bar food. I have to admit, I can’t think of a much better accompaniment to a cold beer.

After four beers and a couple trips to the jukebox, we left the bar with pockets still jingling, half-cheesed and ready for whatever the night had in store for us. What more can you ask from happy hour?