Hidden between Sansom and Chestnut, it might take a little patience, or at least some help from Google Maps, to find your way to McGillin's. Once there, though, you'll be happy you made the journey to this classic Irish pub. McGillin's is a landmark in the Philly pubscape, serving pints since the days of Lincoln. Offering up a casual atmosphere, the old-school tavern caters to a slightly older, post-college scene. It's a friendly type of place, where a nearby table had no problem singing "Happy Birthday," and onlookers felt free to join in. In spite of the crowd, it didn't take long (or much money, $5) to get a pitcher, and there was enough room to choose between chilling at the bar or at one of the tables.
Few bars can boast such a fitting and candid nomenclature (title? Name?). Dirty Frank's sits squarely on the corner of S. 13th and Pine, without so much as a sign to signal its presence. Once inside, we took in all of the low-lit, musky glory that is Dirty Frank's. The bar's trademark is an abundance of "local flavor;" and by "local flavor," we mean a host of heavily mustachioed, tattooed and generally unfriendly-looking clientele. The battle-worn bartender was appropriately surly, and she had a mug to match. It's all part of the appeal here at Dirty Frank's. But, if dive bar ambiance at posh prices (a shot of tequila ran $8) doesn't appeal to you, consider Dirty Frank's hidden gem: Pac-Man.
Walk past the line of people waiting to get into Byblos and down the stairs below street level, and you'll reach this faux-European bar. Once you're inside this intimate, smoke-filled room, it's clear that Bar Noir has gone to great lengths to prove its French authenticity. Don't be fooled, though; it seems that Bar Noir is an American bar just playing dress up. They're trying hard, with a DJ spinning in the corner and walls covered with French movie posters. Still, they're not much more than poseurs. Elvis Costello doesn't qualify as French music and a few of the posters are in fact American movies with French titles. D‚cor aside, Noir doesn't offer any brews on tap (part of the manufactured French pretentiousness no doubt), but most of your favorite European beers (Pilsner Urquell, Guiness, Bass) are available. In celebration of Bar Noir's character of half-assed Frenchiness, we ordered that classic French cocktail: shots of SoCo and lime ($8 each).
The final destination on this pub crawl was Tragos, and by that time, details of the bars began to blend together. That may be why Tragos wasn't really able to distinguish itself from an ordinary chic bar. What we can say, though, is that it was every bit as swanky as Dirty Frank's was shady. The bar maid here stood in stark contrast to the woman tending bar at Frank's. Her generous (and less than genuine) chest stood as a testament to Tragos's commitment to window dressing. Feeding off of the Rittenhouse crowd, Tragos has two levels: a more laid-back downstairs, complete with a pool table, and a spacious dance floor upstairs. In spite of the bar's trendy reputation, as the night was just peaking, a little past 1 a.m., there wasn't much of a crowd downstairs. The upside was a short wait for a round of Kamikaze shots ($8).
