Bar Tabs: Ivy Tavern

Every guy needs to have three skills in his back pocket: first, a quality story he can tell in awkward social situations. Second, he needs a recipe (preferably on the grill) that he can make better than anyone else he knows. And finally, he needs a bar he can go to with a group of people where he knows everyone will have a good time. My story is about the time I got fired, my dish is flame-grilled bruschetta, and my bar is the Ivy Tavern.

Why the Ivy? First and foremost its the bartenders. Its not that I know them really well. The reason I like them is that you don’t need to in order to have a good bar conversation; about the Red Sox, what’s going on in the neighborhood, whatever. At its best, the Ivy feels like a group of friends hanging out, and the bartenders are the gracious hosts.


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Second, the food is pitch-perfect bar fare. The Ivy is the only place other than San Francisco that I’ve ever had finger-sucking good garlic fries. They also do an exemplary job with hamburgers, chicken sandwiches, and other pub sandwiches. If none of that suits you, they usually have some decent pizzas or other specials, and my wife can even find a good salad or the like if she’s trying to be healthy.

Finally, there is just something about the place itself. They’ve got a bunch of good beers on tap (reasonably priced, too), some cool old boxing and wrestling posters on the wall, and a notice board with surprisingly funny messages spelled out in scrabble letters. The crowd is a mix of Brown kids, twentysomethings, and neighborhood folks in for a beer and dinner.
Check it out the next time there’s a big game on or you want to spice up a slow Saturday night. Then you just need a good story and a good grill recipe to complete your manly troika.