Ye Expanded Rustic Inn

(Flickr pic by Uh…Bob.)

Fans of Sunday morning Bloody Marys in Los Feliz, good news: Reader Craig reports that Ye Rustic Inn is looking to expand.

He writes:

The notice says the bar wants to add 500 square feet to its patio, and 1,180 square feet to its interior. The patio hours would be 6 a.m.-10 p.m. Sun.-Thur., 6 a.m.-midnight Fri.-Sat.

The zoning board hearing will be Oct. 2 at 10:30 a.m., if yer interested.

BTW, if you’re hanging out at Ye Rustic Inn’s patio at 6 a.m., you may need some help. Just sayin.

Las Vegas Exploits L.A.’s Bar Curfew

In California, bars must stop serving liquor at 2 a.m. In Vegas, there’s always someone, somewhere, getting loaded. After all, whatever’s vomited in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Party Like It’s Super Tuesday

(Flickr pic by Chuck T.)

Thanks to LAist for throwing its first ever blogger party on Tuesday night. Turnout was great; not only did I get to meet some bloggers I only knew in print, but I finally got to check out downtown’s Seven Grand whiskey bar.

(Flickr pic by Chuck T.)

Among those L.A. bloggers in attendance: LAist editor Zach Behrens; former LAist editor and Negro Please blogger Jason Toney; Sha in LA‘s Shannon Simonds; Sean and Pamela Rouse; LA Cowboy Brady Westwater; LA Times pressman Ed Padgett, and others.

Zach said he planned to throw other LAist bashes in the future, including an election night blow-out. Jason explained why he dropped out of the blogging world: Not only was he increasingly busy, but he was starting to get recognized in his every day life at spots like Target — and it was quite freaky. Shannon’s gearing up for her birthday walk this weekend down James M. Wood; Sean and Pamela just celebrated one year downtown and have become immersed in that world. I also got to meet both Brady and Ed for the first time; both had nice things to say about Franklin Avenue. I asked Ed about the photo new Tribune honcho Sam Zell sent to his blog: Apparently Ed and his colleagues recently introduced the ear tug as a new way of yelling out “f-you!” without actually saying it… Zell, a fan of salty language, caught wind of the new Pressmen lingo and sent the pic. Ed says he plans to meet Zell this week when the boss visits his plant.

As for Seven Grand itself… nice spot on the second floor of an older Los Angeles building, and it takes advantage of that old, urban feel. LAist was offering free cocktails to anyone with an “I Voted” sticker, and I ordered one from the specialty menu… only to discover those menu items weren’t covered. But I had to try the “Los Angeles” — how could I not? — and wasn’t disappointed. This delicious concoction consisted of Jim Beam Black Label bourbon, some vermouth, sugar syrup, nutmeg and more. I spread the word, and I think I convinced Shannon and fellow L.A. nut Eric Lynxwiler to try it out.

Were you there? Did I miss you?

Party Like It’s Super Tuesday

(Flickr pic by Chuck T.)

Thanks to LAist for throwing its first ever blogger party on Tuesday night. Turnout was great; not only did I get to meet some bloggers I only knew in print, but I finally got to check out downtown’s Seven Grand whiskey bar.

(Flickr pic by Chuck T.)

Among those L.A. bloggers in attendance: LAist editor Zach Behrens; former LAist editor and Negro Please blogger Jason Toney; Sha in LA‘s Shannon Simonds; Sean and Pamela Rouse; LA Cowboy Brady Westwater; LA Times pressman Ed Padgett, and others.

Zach said he planned to throw other LAist bashes in the future, including an election night blow-out. Jason explained why he dropped out of the blogging world: Not only was he increasingly busy, but he was starting to get recognized in his every day life at spots like Target — and it was quite freaky. Shannon’s gearing up for her birthday walk this weekend down James M. Wood; Sean and Pamela just celebrated one year downtown and have become immersed in that world. I also got to meet both Brady and Ed for the first time; both had nice things to say about Franklin Avenue. I asked Ed about the photo new Tribune honcho Sam Zell sent to his blog: Apparently Ed and his colleagues recently introduced the ear tug as a new way of yelling out “f-you!” without actually saying it… Zell, a fan of salty language, caught wind of the new Pressmen lingo and sent the pic. Ed says he plans to meet Zell this week when the boss visits his plant.

As for Seven Grand itself… nice spot on the second floor of an older Los Angeles building, and it takes advantage of that old, urban feel. LAist was offering free cocktails to anyone with an “I Voted” sticker, and I ordered one from the specialty menu… only to discover those menu items weren’t covered. But I had to try the “Los Angeles” — how could I not? — and wasn’t disappointed. This delicious concoction consisted of Jim Beam Black Label bourbon, some vermouth, sugar syrup, nutmeg and more. I spread the word, and I think I convinced Shannon and fellow L.A. nut Eric Lynxwiler to try it out.

Were you there? Did I miss you?

What’s Better Than Democracy? Democracy Plus Free Drink.

LAist is throwing a Super Tuesday party, and we’re all invited.

Here’s the key part: They’re handing out free drinks to the first 75 people who show up with their “I Voted” sticker. So don’t throw that thing away, wear it proudly, then hit downtown’s Seven Grand between 7 p.m. and 9 p.m. on Feb. 5 for a drink. It’ll be nice to see the Blog-LA-Sphere, live and in person.

Seven Grand
515 W 7th St
Los Angeles, CA 90014

One Last Drink at Craby Joe’s

(Flickr pic by Streetpix.)

Esotouric’s Kim Cooper (who’s also behind the 1947project) and Richard Schave bemoan the loss of Craby Joe’s, an institution on Main near Skid Row. The bar, which has been at 7th and Main since 1933, closes its door Christmas Eve.

Writes Kim, via press release:

Craby Joe’s has served as a watering hole to John Fante, Charles Bukowski, and many other great souls who drew from this well of characters and atmosphere from the wrong side of the tracks. Its now-dead neon sign blinked gaily in the opening credits for “Barfly,” and its pickled eggs were the day’s only protein for too many.

Gentrification has come to Skid Row, and now Craby Joe’s, the final holdout among the dozens of bars that once lined Main Street, is being shoved into history’s dustbin. Its neighbor the Cecil Hotel, already on the skids when Raymond Chandler described it in early short stories, is now a self-described boutique hotel, a destination for the discerning European traveler. This fragile coral reef of artists, galleries (the hub of Art Walk is two blocks away at 5th and Main at Bert Green’s), SRO hotels and their long time residents will suffer a severe blow with the close of Craby Joe’s, and its fans and friends will miss the unpretentious neighborhood bar and its gruff-but-lovable co-owner Jenny.

A group of local preservationists and historians will be on hand Dec. 24 at 10 p.m. to toast the bar one last time.

One Last Drink at Craby Joe’s

(Flickr pic by Streetpix.)

Esotouric’s Kim Cooper (who’s also behind the 1947project) and Richard Schave bemoan the loss of Craby Joe’s, an institution on Main near Skid Row. The bar, which has been at 7th and Main since 1933, closes its door Christmas Eve.

Writes Kim, via press release:

Craby Joe’s has served as a watering hole to John Fante, Charles Bukowski, and many other great souls who drew from this well of characters and atmosphere from the wrong side of the tracks. Its now-dead neon sign blinked gaily in the opening credits for “Barfly,” and its pickled eggs were the day’s only protein for too many.

Gentrification has come to Skid Row, and now Craby Joe’s, the final holdout among the dozens of bars that once lined Main Street, is being shoved into history’s dustbin. Its neighbor the Cecil Hotel, already on the skids when Raymond Chandler described it in early short stories, is now a self-described boutique hotel, a destination for the discerning European traveler. This fragile coral reef of artists, galleries (the hub of Art Walk is two blocks away at 5th and Main at Bert Green’s), SRO hotels and their long time residents will suffer a severe blow with the close of Craby Joe’s, and its fans and friends will miss the unpretentious neighborhood bar and its gruff-but-lovable co-owner Jenny.

A group of local preservationists and historians will be on hand Dec. 24 at 10 p.m. to toast the bar one last time.

In Search of Tiki

It’s by no means a thorough list (I’m sure we could all name several right off the bat that aren’t on the list), but here’s Gridskipper’s list of its favorite L.A. tiki bars.

One Chalet Patron’s Semi-Poignant Farewell to Los Angeles

(Flickr pic by rantfoil.)

The scene: Wednesday night at Eagle Rock’s The Chalet, which I love because of its strong pours and its kitschy ski chalet decor. But mostly the strong pours.

The player: Some random guy, who’d clearly already taken advantage of several strong Chalet pours, tells the bartender to turn down the jukebox. He has something to say — and I’m hoping it ends with, “free round for everyone!”

He tells us it’s a big night. “Six years ago, I came to Los Angeles to pursue a career as a filmmaker.”

OK, this could be good. Free drinks: Imminent.

“I had high hopes and big dreams. Well, I’m here to tell you today that I failed.”

Wait. What?

“And I’m moving back home tomorrow to Manhattan, to return to my Dominican brothers.”

Wow. That speech started out so good. And ended so… well, depressing.

Especially for me. My free drinks hope had been dashed. Oh well. Good luck heading back home, Mr. Failed After Six Years in Los Angeles.

One Chalet Patron’s Semi-Poignant Farewell to Los Angeles

(Flickr pic by rantfoil.)

The scene: Wednesday night at Eagle Rock’s The Chalet, which I love because of its strong pours and its kitschy ski chalet decor. But mostly the strong pours.

The player: Some random guy, who’d clearly already taken advantage of several strong Chalet pours, tells the bartender to turn down the jukebox. He has something to say — and I’m hoping it ends with, “free round for everyone!”

He tells us it’s a big night. “Six years ago, I came to Los Angeles to pursue a career as a filmmaker.”

OK, this could be good. Free drinks: Imminent.

“I had high hopes and big dreams. Well, I’m here to tell you today that I failed.”

Wait. What?

“And I’m moving back home tomorrow to Manhattan, to return to my Dominican brothers.”

Wow. That speech started out so good. And ended so… well, depressing.

Especially for me. My free drinks hope had been dashed. Oh well. Good luck heading back home, Mr. Failed After Six Years in Los Angeles.