The bartender wears a garbage bag wrapped around his body, over his clothes and apron. It’s an old school way to keep yourself clean if you work in a public house. You never know when a line going to blow up in your face or whatever else might spill on you.
True, taps and lines are much neater nowadays, but these lines aren’t as trustworthy here, so old habits die hard. And the oldest of New York’s habits die hardest in McSorley’s Old Ale House.
Back in the day, I stopped into McSorley’s having no idea of its storied history. No mind had been paid to the Established 1854 part of their sign, I was just looking for a cheap place to grab a bite and a brew. The menu wasn’t anything special, but it was cheap. There are a couple sandwiches and a burger available, but it’s their cheese and onion plate, surprisingly, that’s most satisfying.
It wasn’t until I noticed a pair of handcuffs on the bar rail that I clued in to the fact that I might be somewhere special. The bartender noticed me staring and chuckled at me. “No we’re not one of those kinky places, kid, those handcuffs are famous. Know who they belonged to?”
When I shook my head, he revealed they belonged to Harry Houdini. He’d been a McSorley’s regular, after all. It was at that point that the pictures and newspapers on the walls caught my attention. McSorley’s is dripping with New York history. It’s a public house with walls you can read. There’s a lot to be learned here.
Houdini wasn't the only celebrity who frequented the Ale House. McSorley’s can also count Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, Ulysses S. Grant, and Woody Guthrie among those who tipped a mug at the bar. Hunter S. Thompson and Frank McCourt were regulars, and E.E. Cummings even wrote a poem about the place.
Celebrities continue to visit to this day. The New York Rangers drank from the Stanley Cup at McSorley’s, and Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellan shot publicity photos there for their Broadway show, not long ago.
And so, after blundering into the place blindly, I began going to McSorley’s on purpose. In those days, the 90s, I used to frequent St Mark’s Place, shopping for vintage clothes, music, collectibles and comic books. It became a tradition to take those spoils back to the Ale House, to examine them over a bite and a brew.
One of those comic books I followed was the great Preacher, by Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon. Don’t worry if you’ve never heard of it, you will. Preacher is soon to be a series on AMC, and until it showed up there, only nerds knew about The Walking Dead. You heard it here first, go pick up Preacher.
Anyway, it sent a chill down my spine to be reading Preacher at McSorley’s when the story of the book passed through that very pub. Yes, McSorley’s suddenly featured heavily into the story. So it stands to reason that the Ale House is going to become even more famous in the near future.
With each subsequent visit, I learned more about the pub. The bathrooms featured cavernous urinals in the men’s room, yet the ladies’ room was smaller and far less impressive. When I asked the ubiquitous bartender about that, he smirked back, “We’ve only allowed women in here recently, that’s why.”
One of the most infamous things about McSorley’s is how long they stuck to their Men Only tradition. They’ve only begun letting women in the place fairly recently, in 1970! Even now, when you go there, the bartenders and servers are all men. Whether you think it’s good or it’s bad, McSorley’s is honest about its history. But more importantly, the pub shows that even its most dearly-held traditions can be changed.
It had been over twenty years since that had happened, which should say a lot about how long this bartender had been on duty to refer to it as "recently." Just FYI.
Old traditions give way to new traditions. That is the natural way of things, especially in New York City. It’s hustle and bustle here, not what have you done, but what have you done for me lately? You gotta change with the times in order make the times change for you.
But it’s still important to remember where you came from. New York City is crammed full of historical significance. It would behoove us all to treasure and preserve those icons that contributed to the story of Gotham. And McSorley’s ranks high on that list. Not that I realized any of this at the time. I was just a young guy looking for a cheap bite and a brew while I relaxed. That was enough. It still is.
A sense of community is important in New York City. You can become disconnected in the Big Apple. While ambition is a not a bad thing, losing your connection to your fellow New Yorkers is. It’s easy to forget that others might share your worries and dreams. For a city this large, it’s remarkably easy to get lost inside your own head.
,McSorley’s can help with that too. Tables are communal. You’ll sit with people you don’t know. That’s how things are done at the Ale House, because that’s how things have always been done there. Having a drink at McSorley’s truly brings understanding of the term “public house.”
We’re all in this together. No matter what our differences, chances are good we can work it out over a mug of beer, and McSorley’s is a damned good place to do that.
So when friends visit me from out of town, McSorley’s is where I bring them. They inevitably end up talking to more people than just me, whether those people be ol' school New Yorkers, other visitors, or whatever else. None of it matters at McSorley’s. You’re here for a good time, a connection with others, and some good beer at a good price.
Oh yeah, the beer. Here’s the thing, you have two choices when it comes to beer at McSorley’s; light or dark. That’s it. Drop all your expectations of craft beers, assorted taps, cans, bottles, what have you. Light or dark. That’s it. The beer comes to you in two mugs, because the vintage lines provide the beer with a lot of foamy head and two mugs is the way to deal with that.
Opinions vary on the taste. The light is pretty much what you expect, but the dark probably isn’t. It doesn’t come off like stout. Depending upon who you talk to, the dark tastes just like the light; is better than any other dark; tastes just like root beer; and any number of colorful stories.
Even more variable is how to drink the beer. Some folks stick to light or dark. Some do both. Some order both and mix them together, and some just don’t care. It really doesn’t matter. There are no hard and fast rules on how to drink McSorley’s beer.
The crowd at night is boisterous and loud. The Ale House draws New Yorkers (and its visitors) from all walks of life in the evenings. It’s especially popular with younger crowds, university students, and those new to drinking in public legally.
But instead of being a “Kid’s Bar,” McSorley’s instead provides an education in how to comport yourself at a pub. It’s fitting that such an iconic place can provide some guidance in respect and etiquette, while encouraging you to meet new friends. New Yorkers forge new friendships on the foundation of old New York history. It’s a special place, where you realize that New York City isn’t just a place to live; it’s your home.
Not that I realized any of this when I was a McSorley’s 90s regular. Hell, I never even knew what the place was like at night for the longest time. I’d visit in the afternoon, have a liverwurst sandwich (just do it, trust me) and knock back a few mugs while chatting with the old-timers. The bartender knew everybody, and gave quite a few people nicknames. When he found out I’d emigrated to NYC from Canada, he christened me Iceback. I’ve never been prouder of a nickname.
Life took me away from New York, and McSorley’s, as life has a tendency to do. It’s what happens to you while you’re making plans, after all. I spent a long time away from NYC and its icons. Returning to them was a great and welcome pleasure.
And so, there came an afternoon when I wandered back into McSorley’s, after 11 years away from it. My breath caught when I saw the bartender. He still wore a garbage bag over his clothes. He still grinned while joking with the patrons. In that moment, everything came rushing back. What New York City meant to me, its history, its people, what it had been through, and how very much I had missed it.
Overwhelmed, I kept my head down while I ordered their beer, hoping my Yankee hat would hide the emotion in my face. It only worked for a minute. The bartender had his head cocked at an angle while he poured. You could practically hear his wheels turning.
“Iceback? Is that you?”
My smile was answer enough for everyone.
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