Despite my efforts to prove otherwise, man cannot exist on liquid alone. For a week or two? Heck yeah, but my body soon bloats into a hairy, kiddie-pool float. So at bars offering nourishment, I snag a nosh or two—chips, perhaps a burger. They keep me ticking, sort of, but grease-bomb sustenance quickly becomes as boring as my sobriety.
That’s why I bless my little stars for Park Slope’s Bar Reis (pronounced Reese, after the owner). Reis is an elder on Fifth Avenue’s drinking scene. It opened in 1999 as a wine-slinger, a decent alco-option on a bodega and fortune-teller strip. It remains so seven years later.
The giraffe-sized ceiling and weathered brick walls, decorated with funky paintings and combined with a wrought-iron staircase leading to a small loft, attract after-dinner tipplers—and those for whom drinks are dinner. They also do so in the basement rec room (featuring a pool table and mish-mash couches) and in the two-tiered backyard illuminated by Christmas lights.
It’s a country-calming escape that, during sweaty months, is packed like Yankee Stadium. In chilly months, of course, the backyard empties. This effect trickles down to the rest of Bar Reis’ quarters. Weekends remain somewhat crammed, but weeknights can be as empty as deflated balloons.
If you’re a good-beer lover, this makes sense. Bar Reis lacks taps, so its suds selection consists of bottled offerings like Sierra Nevada ($5), Coors Light ($4) and Yuengling ($3), as well as past-its-prime PBR ($3). Mixed drinks, thankfully, can be minor revelations. On a recent evening, I savor a cockles-warming hot toddy ($6) garnished with a clove-impregnated lemon slice.
“That’s the extra step just for you,” the catty and chatty bartender says, squeezing in an extra honey dollop.
Also tasty is the old-fashioned daiquiri ($6). It’s simple-syrup-sweetened, the kind Hemingway guzzled. These cocktails’ strength have my head spinning and stomach running for a surprisingly rewarding bar menu. In a tiny downstairs kitchen, a cap-wearing chef turns out limited, but lively, plates of tacos and tortas, moles and quesadillas
My first visit, I indulge in the “awesome nachos” ($5). They’re a glorious dump of tortilla chips layered with black beans, pungent pico de gallo, guacamole, jalapeños and enough queso to keep a cow’s udders working overtime. It’s a feast for one, a small meal for two.
“That’s mine,” my dining companion says, nearly stabbing my finger with a fork while spearing the last chip.
Another empty-bar weeknight, while watching TVs broadcast football, I return to sample the tacos ($2 each or three for $5), tortas ($5 or $6) and quesadillas ($3). I’d order the “daily special,” but “we’ve never had a special,” a drawl-talkin’ bartender tells me.
My chicken mole tacos arrive on double-stacked tortillas topped by rich, chocolate-brown chicken and a cotija cheese snowstorm. They’re plate-lickingly lovely, as are the veggie and avocado and shrimp. Quesadillas are good ’n’ gooey. My grill-striped chicken torta is a disappointment: It’s thin and dry, topped by bikini-skinny black-bean and avocado slatherings.
However, measuring against restaurant standards is silly. At bars, a good burger is hard to find; fantastic tacos are nigh on impossible. Combine ’em with awesome nachos, and suddenly gettin’ drunk is—be still, my trembling fingers—secondary.
Bar Reis
375 5th Ave. (betw. 5th & 6th Sts.), Park Slope, B’klyn
718-832-5716
