The Watering Hole: Darrell’s Tavern, 18041 Aurora Ave. N., 542-6688. SHORELINE
The Barkeep: Dan Dyckman, former taphandler at the Fifth Ave. Tavern, Conor Byrne, the Blue Moon, and the Dubliner in the ’90s, back before Fremont—despite remaining a neighborhood of considerable virtue—began being infiltrated by nine million unmarked douchebags.
The Drink: A Maker’s Manhattan, because, says Dyckman, “That’s what my dad used to drink.” This doubles as Darrell’s overarching motto: “Where your dad used to drink.”
The Verdict: If you don’t already have hair on your chest, you will after drinking one of Dyckman’s Manhattans, largely because a Manhattan is, in its boozy simplicity (rye whiskey, vermouth, and not much else), a classic cocktail designed for efficiency. What’s happy hour worth if you can’t get from sober to, well, happy in the space of 60 minutes?
But truth be told, it feels a little weird drinking out of anything resembling a martini glass in Darrell’s, a dark Aurora dive that’s the epitome of a shot-‘n’-beer bar. Dyckman bought it late last summer from an 84-year-old named Ben Hammond, who insisted its inheritor not dick with the dinginess much.
Dyckman has mostly honored this request. Harley convoys, one of which dominated the scene on a recent Saturday afternoon, have taken the place of the fleet of old Lincolns parked out front. (Dyckman says he’ll soon be decking one out in full Darrell’s detail as homage, however). And Dyckman has amped up Darrell’s live-music calendar considerably. On the Saturday in question, a pair of ska bands graced the stage. Wednesday is karaoke night, and every Sunday there’s live jazz.
Live jazz at Darrell’s—that’s somethin’. Maybe that Manhattan isn’t so out of place after all.
