Bar Supplement 2006 - The Gauntlet

B12 SEPTEMBER 07.06 GAUNTLET DRINKING SUPPLEMENT
SEVENTEENTH AVENUE
There have always been a number of bars on 17th Avenue, but the Flame’s Stanley Cup run in 2004 turned it
into the world-renowned Red Mile. Although just heading out on a random Wednesday evening doesn’t quite
duplicate the experience, there can still be plenty of debauchery if you are willing to create it yourself.
The walk from the C-Train is a little frustrating when you’re parched—10 blocks can seem like the Sahara—but
you can proudly say there won’t be any driving later on.
There is at least a couple kilometres of prime bar-hopping to do right on 17th, but, as you’ll fi nd below, some
treasures lay just off the beaten path. While we managed to hit fi ve pubs on our crawl, we were just nibbling on
the tit of the iceberg. Did I say tit, I meant tip.
wingman
and a
Just me
They’ve also got a decently spacious
patio for soaking in the sun’s dying
rays before winter hits.
The location is unfortunately not
exactly in the heart of the action.
Watchman’s is pretty much the first
bar you will hit when you stroll down
17th from the west. It was, however,
agoodstartingpointtoputawing
Watchman’s Pub
1109 17 Ave SW
This was another crawl that began
with a couple of cold ones at
home with the roommate and a bike
ride to the first location. This time
it was Watchman’s Pub and it was
wing night. The two of us sat down
in the very busy bar and ordered a
couple of pints and three orders of
Double
trouble
Michelangelo’s
1401 11 St SW
With some cold beer and tasty
wings in our bellies, our
team of two set off for our next
destination: Michelangelo’s. Albeit
less frequented by the 17th crowd,
this bar still manages to be packed
more often than not. It is admittedly
towards the west end of the 17th
Avenue strip and a few blocks north,
but hot damn do they have some
sweet specials.
We managed to secure ourselves a
corner booth with a massive chest as
a table—and I don’t mean server-at-
Cowboys massive chest, I mean oldschool,
wonder-what’s-inside kind of
wings to k
patiently for our friends. The only
problem being we have no friends.
The two of us enjoyed our happyhour-priced
beers—the hour of
joy runs until 7:30 p.m. allowing
the dinner crowd to indulge—and
15-cent wings.
Watchman’s has the feel of a typical
sports bar. There are too many
televisions, dim lighting and a lot
of hungry and thirsty sports fans.
that we had stumbled in on the night
when hi-balls are on special. Four
dollars apiece for doubles didn’t set
us back too much considering the
strength of the drinks.
Interestingly enough, drinks this
cheap aren’t a rarity at Michelangelo’s.
They’ve also got nights dedicated to
$3 bottles of imported beer (from
38 countries), $3 pints of Trad and
Grasshopper, 25-cent mussels and
your typical 15-cent wings. The
atmosphere is super cool too, with
a dark interior and barely enough
room for all the thirsty patrons that
swing by.
Anyway, being bitter about the
lack of other people in our group,
our duo made very fast work of three
and no signs of any others showing
up at the Watchman’s, it was time
for us to hit the road. We fought
to the death (read: bickered like a
married couple) over who would
eat the last wing, ended up splitting
it, and finished off our pints.
But before heading east, we had
a detour.
Sean Nyilassy
double gin and tonics and two double
Caesars, respectively. As the six shots
of booze settled into my system, my
plan started to work. My disappointment
from being on a supposed pub
crawl with only one other dude was
rapidly fading and my desire to just
get hammered was beginning to rear
its ugly, familiar head.
On that note, our allotted hour
was over and it was time to head
to the next bar. On the way, it was
also time to go harass our comrade
working on 17th and encourage him
and his lady friend to join us. The
mission was a success and our party’s
population doubled for the next stop
on our tour.
Sean Nyilassy
Hot
dog!
We have a weiner
Tubby Dog
103 1022 17 Ave SW
It was with a smile on my face that
I locked up shop for the last time
at my part-time summer job and
walked the short block down 17th
to join the tiny, but spirited, twoman
pub crawl in progress. My
after-work thirst was compounded
by some after-work hunger, making
Tubby Dog an ideal locale for our
planned rendezvous.
Offering a selection of whackedout
dogs with ingredients ranging
from Cap’n Crunch cereal to crushed
potato chips to ginger and wasabi
(though it’s probably not a good
idea to mix them all on the same
dog), Tubby Dog has something to
satisfy any hunger. These dogs will
do the trick whether after a night of
bar hoppin’ (they’re open extra late
on Friday and Saturday) or just a
lazy afternoon of window-shopping
on 17th.
Add an order of Tubby’s uniquely
battered T-rings or a one dollar
pickled egg and it’s clear that
what the menu lacks in nutritional
value it more than makes up for in
unapologetic (and often messy)
deliciousness.
Tubby Dog also offers veggie dogs
for those not interested in tubes of
ground up animal bits and Ukrainian
sausage for those who can’t get
enough. Your doctor would probably
tell you not to eat here everyday, but
what the hell does he know anyway
The dogs are an affordable feed,
in the $5–7 range. The beer is pretty
cheap too—especially if you pick up
one of the oversized imports.
All things considered, the charm of
Tubby Dog comes primarily from the
interior decoration, complete with
ketchup-red and mustard-orange
’60s-fast-food-joint tables and
benches. The place fronts on 17th
and opens a street-side patio when
weather permits. There’s also a jukebox
stacked with music to make an
indie fanboy cream his tight jeans,
but the best part is the wall projection
of old cartoons at the back.
There’s nothing quite like watching
the Amazing Spiderman wrap up
case after case (and criminal after
criminal) with his trademark note
to police, mouth full of half-chewed
bits of bacon, beef and sauerkraut,
Newcastle in hand.
The staff are friendly and make
the place that much more appealing,
especially on one of the movie
theme nights or dj parties. Though
Tubby Dog is probably not the best
place to kill three or four hours, it
is well worth a stop during any 17th
Ave debauchery, if only to refuel on
pork and beef tubes and take a break
from the smoky bar scene—which is
exactly what our small band needed
before moving on to more serious
stops.
Chris Beauchamp