Welcome back, fine purveyors of the hidden gems that are the pubs, tap houses, bars, and lounges we are here to celebrate, nurture, and cherish. For this rendition, I was able to make the most of the night and take a double dip in the Greenfield area, specifically down the hill and “in the run,” i.e., the valley area of Greenfield underneath the parkway east where you can watch fine Pittsburgh motorists approach the tunnel at a mean speed of three miles an hour, but also stop for some solid food, great deals, and friendly people.
Punksburgh has teamed up with Chuck Kowalski (whom you may know from The Filthy Lowdown) to explore the plethora of dive bars that pepper our fair city. In this post, originally published on his blog Sports Unfiltered, he lays out his mission and visits his first dive: DALE’S.
Hi jags, jagettes, and fellow enthusiasts of the sauce, the creature, the good stuff – be your beverage of choice a domestic lager or an absurd cocktail served in a repurposed aquarium.
Between bouts of sports-driven mayhem, I manage to make it out on occasion to the hangout, the haunt, the dive. Just as often, I write about things that tolerate – or enable – my poor decisions and unabridged fits of cursing despite there being no missed tackles, throwing errors, or wretched turnovers in the neutral zone. I swear these events are purely coincidental.
We all have these retreats, these havens, where nobody asks questions, you realize you may somehow be the most well-adjusted person in the entire establishment, and a regular who isn’t called by his or her real name is lying face down in the remains of a behemoth nacho plate, seemingly adorned with an unspoken “Do No Disturb” sign.