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Cocktail Barflies today are spoiled. They are not only well-watered, they are fed on a diet of top-notch bar burgers, salads, fried chicken sandwiches, hand-cut fries, shishito peppers, crudite and marinated olives. Many of them may assume it’s always been this good, that drinkers have never not had easy access to house-recipe deviled eggs and curated plates of cheese and charcuterie.

Let me tell you, that is not the case. For much of the 20th-century, food and bars were not something that married well together, if they got together at all. Pre-Prohibition, saloons may have offered a free lunch to lure drinkers in, but free did not typically translate into good. Otherwise, there were gratis bowls of nuts and pretzels whose propose was not sustenance, but to make you thirsty for more drinks. As humorist and bar life observer George Ade wrote long ago, the food was not just food, “They were silent partners.” Some long-standing taverns have been large and prosperous enough to offer a burger, wings or chili, whose vaunted reputations were more based on the scarcity of eating options at bars than the quality of food itself.

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How things have changes. We can thank the craft cocktail revival for this. Soon after cocktail bar owners re-mastering the well-made cocktail during the first decade of this century, they extended their dedication to quality to the kitchen. Some famous bars eschewed food altogether—including the famed Milk & Honey and all of Sasha Petraske’s other bars. But those who did decide to add a food menu—primarily as a device to keep customers on site and not lose them to restaurants after a couple of drinks—took the job seriously. So seriously that, today, a good many New Yorkers go to some bars to eat as well as drink.

I’ve eaten a lot of bar food in the course of pursuing the cocktail beat. As a result, I’d sussed out what bars are good at the food game, and what dishes in particular those bars do best. Below are what I consider some of the top, unbeatable bar food in New York; the 10-out-of-10, smash-hit, can’t-lose dishes. Here they are, in alphabetical order by the bar’s name:

Bar Goto: Miso Wings and Kombu Celery

Bar Goto has really got it going on, food-wise. New York is a great town for chicken wings, Buffalo-style or otherwise. But if you put a gun to my head and asked me to decide which wings I’d eat for the rest of my days, I’d probably choose Bar Goto’s. And who does celery and not only aces it, but makes you crave it? Owner Kenta Goto expected the okonomiyaki—a savory pancake dish from Japan—would be the signature food item at Bar Goto, but the wings and celery took off in ways he didn’t anticipate. They remain the most popular items on the menu at both Bar Goto and its Brooklyn sister bar, Niban. The wings are marinated in house-blended teriyaki sauce and coated in potato starch, then bathed in a sauce of miso, sesame oil, rice vinegar, soy sauce and ginger. “I love wings as bar food,” said Goto, “and knew I wanted to do them with a Japanese interpretation for our menu. I collaborated with Kiyo Shinoki, a friend and the chef-owner of Takumen.” The improbably delicious celery, meanwhile, is tossed in furikake, sesame oil, and soy sauce, chilled for 30 minutes then topped with sesame seeds. I can never decide which dish to order, so I inevitably order both.

Clover Club: Crisps   

Crisps. Sounds boring, no? And, to be honest, for a few years, I was quite bored by this value munchie ($8) on Clover Club’s food menu. Who wants crisps instead of French fries? And why were there no French friends on the menu?! Everytually, I tried them, though. And then again. And again and again. These things creep up on you, getting under your skin until you can’t imagine sitting at the bar without ordering a batch. I’m not alone; CC sells 75-100 orders a week. The hand-sliced chips are tossed seasoned duck fat at the last minute, and served truffle creme fraiche dip—two small but meaningfully decadent touches that sell what could have been a prosaic snack. You can now get French fries at Clover Club, by the way. I’ll stick to the Crisps.

Happiest Hour: The Happiest Burger.

There are a lot of good cocktail-bar burgers in New York. There may, in fact, be too many. It’s really hard to choose a favorite. But the Happiest Burger at Happiest Hour may have them all beat. The bar helps to popularize the now-ubiquitous double-patty cheeseburger and still leads the pack. The sandwich is composed of two thin, custom-blend Pat LaFrieda beef patties, lots of American cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickles, smoky confit onions, raw onions, and a mustard-mayonnaise-based special sauce, all served on a buttered, toasted Martin’s potato roll. The burger is taller than it is wide, and moister than it has any right to be. You’ll want another one before you polish off the last bite.

Katana Kitten: Head-on Carolina Prawn Skewer

There are a ridiculous number of good things on the food menu of Masahiro Urushido’s Japanese-leaning cocktail bar, Katana Kitten, in Greenwich Village. The nori fries, the Mortadella Katsu Sando, the Teriyaki Burger are among them. So why am I choosing the Prawn Skewer, which arrives to you enormous and complete with head and spaghetti-long antenna? Because it is not only delicious; it can lead to what Urushido calls an “Umami situation.” For this, he removes the head of the prawn and extracts its juices, using a metal vice. The juice is then mixed with sake and lemon and returned to you as a shot. A shot of shochu comes with it. And that prawn head? It is deep fried and brought back as an additional bar snack. You have to appreciate the mind that came with such a ceremony.

Long Island Bar: Fried Cheese Curds

A Brooklyn cocktail bar run by a Wisconsinite is going to have fried cheese curds on the menu. But there’s no reason why Toby Cecchini had to make them this addictively good. The sad and shameful truth is most fried cheese curds sold at Wisconsin bars are terrible. They’re obviously frozen, thrown in a deep frier and placed in front of you, flavorless and dull. The curds at Culver’s, the midwestern fast-food chain that arguably popularized fried cheese curbs, are actually the worst thing of their otherwise quite excellent menu. Long Island Bar’s cheese curds are the best I’ve ever had (sorry, Wisconsin!) and the best you’ll find in New York. They come out fast and hot and perfect every time, the batter golden brown and the cheese nearly liquified, with a side of French onion dip. The size of the curds are not uniform by any means, so you know the cheese is fresh. Pro tip: finish them off in under ten minutes; they are not appetizing cold. But, then, that’s rarely a problem with these curds.

Maison Premiere: Oysters

It says it right on the sign outside: “Bar. Oysters.” That sign could have just been a pose for the New Orleans-leaning cocktail bar. Instead, the owners made good on it. Maision Premiere has the best oysters in the city. It’s that simple. Many cocktail bars sell oysters these days, but the daily offerings are limited to one or two types. When you order oysters at Maison, you’re handed a long, skinny sheet listing a dozen or more selections from Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Virginia, British Columbia, Washington state and more locations. If you’re having trouble choosing, leave it to the chef. Have your oysters with an Old King Cole Martini, stirred tableside.

PDT: Tater Tots with Cheese and Jalapeño Peppers

You enter PDT through Crif Dogs, the dog joint next door whose owner also once happened to be the co-owner of PDT. So, naturally, when it came to bar food, hot dogs were the way the bar went. There’s a little metal door behind the bar through which dog after dog is delivered. And PDT is justifiably famous for these creative frankfurters, which have been named after famous chefs and bartenders like David Chang, Wylie Dufresne and John Deragon. But the real failsafe order here is the tater tots. They’re cheap, they’re bountiful, and, originally, they were covered with cheese and jalapeño peppers. (These days, nachos-style tots are featured on the menu, but you can always special order the OG version.) I’ve always enjoyed the juxtaposition of the low-rent tots sitting next to an exquisitely wrought mixed drink. The tots always arrive steaming hot. The fragrance and smoke may annoy your neighbors. And. You. Will. Not. Care.

Sunken Harbor Club: Salt Cod Fritters

This listing comes with a asterisk. During the earlier months of the pandemic, Sunken Harbor Club, the nautical Brooklyn bar tucked upstairs from Gage & Tollner, sold Spam Sliders to go. These were so good you would not believe it. Sunken Harbor Club is now open as a bricks-and-mortar concern, but the Spam Sliders have not made a reappearance. Until they do, the nod for best bar food here goes to the salt cod fritters, which are excellent, filling, rather spicy and quite unlike any other bar food in town.

I did not include any bars outside New York City on this list, because I am New York-based. And though I travel frequently and am familiar with many bars in many other cities, I don’t feel my knowledge is comprehensive enough to suggest a complete list of best bars foods in every city. Nevertheless, here are a few scattered recommendations from around the country.

Settle Down Tavern, Madison, Wisconsin: Cheese Puppies. They’re not exactly cheese curds; they’re not quite hush puppies; they’re just awesome.

Silver Dollar, Louisville, Kentucky: Fried Dill Pickles. They’re served as slices, with arbor ranch dressing, and are very addictive.

Erin Rose, New Orleans, Louisiana: Po’ boys. Walk to the back of this French Quarter bar. You’ll find a window for Killer Poboys there. Get the shrimp po’ boy. Your frozen Irish Coffee will wait.

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