Sometimes, as I venture around the Bay area, the CL editors send me to a tasting where I feel like a cultural anthropologist. I trained in the theatre as an actor and director, where our stock-in-trade is observing human behavior and understanding and assigning motivation. I pay keen attention at each venue and look for details to report to you, our dear readers, so that you might make an informed decision about whether the location of the week is an appealing place for you to drop your hard-earned dollars.
But, CL’s readership is an eclectic mix of all ages and orientations. From DINKs to grandparents, broke college students to obsessive foodies, craft beer purists to indiscriminate hedonists. A recent notable trend, from which to attempt to draw conclusions about the desires of Bay area patrons is the number of TVs in a given establishment.
There’s a continuum from no TVs (more formal/fine wine/craft cocktails) to TVs everywhere (casual/mass market beer/well spirits). One dining environment encourages intimacy and conversation, the other an energetic communal buzz fueled by maximum alcohol and the big game (or many competing games) that may even test the limits of sensual overload. One hopes not to wake up after an ill-advised hookup with a regrettable tattoo, piercing, or missing a kidney (Google it).
All of which is to say, Old School is the latter. It’s a 20-plus TV fun house with live music, cornhole, Jenga, and a Golden Tee Live console for those poor souls who risk delirium tremens from golf withdrawal. The furniture is all metal—shiny, swirled, and impervious to any over indulgence.
There’s no cocktail or wine list. It’s standard bar fare with quaffable wine, and Yuengling, Blue Moon, and the like on tap. My Bombay Sapphire gin and tonic is just fine and hits the spot.
The menu offers a diverse bar food mix including wings, cheese fries, salads and bowls. Our quartet of deviled eggs is made with sweet citrus-truffle vinaigrette and topped with a sriracha dot for a touch of heat. They’re served (as is most of the menu) on red and white checked paper, and divided into quadrants by criss-crossed “million dollar candied bacon”—which is indeed the most delicious sweet and chewy bacon I’ve ever had.
The six hand-dipped mini-wagyu beef corn dogs are the size of fat skewered golf balls. They’re sensational, if you’re a corn dog fan. I didn’t even care to use the house ketchup or chipotle mustard. The juicy dogs have layered beefy flavor highlighted by corn batter that’s not at all grainy.
Early on a Taco Tuesday, the zoo is devoid of late night animals and is a good time to take advantage of $2 Coors and Miller Lite drafts with mix-and-match $2 tacos and sliders.
The grouper taco is fine, but not the equal of our three different sliders served on sweet, ultrasoft Hawaiian rolls. “Three Little Pigs” loads shreds of juicy slow roasted pork with a bit of chipotle mustard and fried shallots on that squishy bread that just melds with the yummy meat.
A slider version of the burger adds sloppy sauce on a mini house-blended patty with American cheese and crisp homemade pickles. A family recipe puts ketchup-glazed “Poppy’s” meatloaf with crispy onions on another Hawaiian sweet roll. It’s hard to pick a favorite.
The poke bowl has a mound of fresh tuna cubes upon sticky rice surrounded by thin slices of cucumber and radish topped with crispy wontons. There’s Brussels wakame salad, but the spicy ponzu and black garlic aïoli listed on the menu don’t really register in our bowl, which seems a bit dull once we get past the fish.
The flatbread is also less interesting, mainly because of the spongy crust, but the balsamic shallots add some interest to the Margherita’s marinated cherry tomatoes with ample mozzarella blanketing herb oil and torn basil.
Sadly, for a sweet-toothed food critic, there is no dessert. But that’s clearly not the goal. One Yelper sums up Old School’s allure in a pithy, Hemingway-esque conclusion that tells you all you really need to know: “Cold beer. Casual as hell. Pretty people.”
CL Food Critic Jon Palmer Claridge is the Bay area’s longest running food critic and dines anonymously when reviewing. See his list of Tampa Bay’s 50 best restaurants of 2019, check out the explanation of his rating system and read his new book, 'Drink.More.Wine!'
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