
Still, there’s nothing like a real seat, at a real bar. Let’s embrace outdoor drinking as an essential part of bar culture, as so many other parts of the world have. A pioneering cocktail den in Harlem, one of the oldest sake bars in America, and a quintessential Mission District dive are all part of this year’s list, our fifteenth.Įven as our bars reanimate, there are those who will want to keep things al fresco for a while, vaccine or not. This year’s Best Bars are a reflection of the desire to experience wonder once more-in being introduced to mind-expanding wines and whiskeys, downing pints in old churches, or hunkering in jazzy spaces again-and to be grateful for places that managed to remain intrinsic to the fabric of drinking culture in America. A place where you can sip on a Sazerac, take a moment, catch up with the world, and decide to celebrate or brood? More of that kind of normal, please.

In a time when life and work and family bled into one another in messy ways, the bar is that much-needed extra space-physically, emotionally-that we could all use right now. That vanished as many were forced to transform into takeout joints or, worse yet, to permanently close. But I suspect that I would have been hit with joy if it was any drink at any bar that had reopened its doors to do what bars do best: hospitality.īars are simultaneously a place to be by oneself and a place of community. Perhaps it was what I was drinking at Viridian, an Asian American bar in Oakland, one of the places on this year’s Best Bars list many of the cocktails nodded to flavors of Asian candies my dad would surprise me with when he returned from grocery runs in New York’s Chinatown. Even with the masked staff and social distancing, the experience was unexpectedly life-affirming. To sit shoulder to shoulder with friends again, chatting with the bartender about esoteric spirits, hearing the laughter of strangers-it felt new and raw. Inside, on a stool, at the actual, physical bar. On April fifteenth, at 8:42 p.m., I had a drink.
