Showing posts with label cheap beer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cheap beer. Show all posts

Monday, December 7, 2009

Bar Spotlight (Football Season Edition): Kopperfields



Photo courtesy of Kopperfields Bar.

Kopperfields
8910 5th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11209

Jim: "Hey, I stole these beets from the DJ"
Lady: "Why does the DJ need beets? I don't get it"

This sums up the awesomeness that was Sunday at Kopperfields. Heavy accents, some shouting, lots of ball busting, and a genuine warmth and "join us" attitude.

When it comes to extra perks, you have to hand it to Bay Ridge. Inexpensive beer, and in the case of The Salty Dog, hilarious cover bands and half a fire truck.

Kopperfield's exists on a quiet stretch in the early 90s and 5th avenue; it's quiet because it's one of the few non-residential blocks in the area, so its easy to miss if you're not paying attention (Christmas lights notwithstanding).

It's a very nice bar; the inside is warm and the bar is long, sturdy and clean. Tables are lined up on the left wall opposite the bar, but then you go farther back and it's kinda romantic, the lighting fixtures, Italian-ish/Mediterranean interior, the loungy couches, and nice wood backyard...with the grill straight from heaven. Just a nice looking, spacious bar, and now with more TVs (I'm going to venture that adding the sports element will give the bar even more appeal). According to Jim Shaffer, the owner, they are working to get NFL Sunday Ticket very soon. There are plenty of bars in the area and the more features the better. The jukebox drains out conversation a little, but according to pictures from the usual weekend nights with (DJ Frankie Finesse, Screwy Louie, etc.) a party hardy atmosphere, it's fitting to get the crowd doing a little fist pumping.

I walked in with my girlfriend and my friend Pat and his wife Jessica to catch the end of the Giants game. The Patriots lost earlier in the day and well, that sucked. Jim was sporting a Romo jersey ("Don't be Romophobic", he stated) and the lovely bartender Jackie was big on the G-men as they pounded out a solid victory. A Hasidic was chillin' with a beer at one of the tables along with several couples and single persons. Basically your average Sunday at any establishment.

The reason why we came in the first place was they were sporting 5 dollar pitchers. I've had 5.50 pitchers at The Patriot and Yogi's, but 5 is an all-time low. Coors Light (which I prefer to Bud Light, but that's just being fickle). The other kicker was free food. Now I've also munched on free grub at plenty of bars, and if you haven't, you should get to the nearest one because there's something wonderful about getting something for free at a bar, and since food is awesome, a bunch of people eating for free while drinking is probably the next best thing to free drinks.

This food was crazy good. Jim and his cohorts not only served us some fresh meats, but treated us to a pitcher on the house as well. We had fresh cheeseburgers (I had provolone on mine, GTFO), bratwurst (punch me in the face), sausages (stop this shit), homemade jalapeno poppers (you don't even know, you don't), and chicken kebabs (we're done here). All of it freshly made on the grill, proudly served by Jim who was ecstatic about still grilling in December.


Eating babies....baby beets (photo courtesy of Kopperfields Bar on the facebook).
Jim couldn't get enough of these pickled beets. He was parading it around, and we had to try one. It definitely perked up my insides for a while, very strong stuff. Lots of jokes around "beets" were made; Michael Jackson, wives, the aforementioned DJs, art scenes, football, etc.

We came in not knowing what to expect and got so much in return and I would definitely suggest if you're far in to Bay Ridge, this would be a great place to go. You'll want to check out their hilarious Facebook profile and plenty of photos (the bar is female....I guess).

They have a serious happy hour on Fridays as well as lots of specials and event nights (retro, pajamas, you know, themes that run deep, like literature). End of the R line, meet the beginning of your late night of drankin'.