You know what would be funny? If bars that looked like they were stuck in a certain era made your appearance change accordingly. I had that thought while stepping through the Big Apple Café’s foyer/trophy zone the other day. If that kind of bar-specific transmogrification were real, my clothes would’ve gotten baggier. And Sublime-ier.
Tucked into a strip mall off Trinity Boulevard, the Big Apple is a bar and grill that appears to be comfortably rooted in about 15 years ago. It’s been open longer than that. (My friend Suze worked there when the Stars won the Stanley Cup in 1999. Apparently, she took a drink out of Lord Stanley’s trophy with Craig Ludwig.) But the place’s charm is an atmosphere that has likely remained unchanged since the last days of the Clinton administration.
I’m exaggerating, of course. The TVs looked to be of a relatively recent vintage, and none of the websites pushed in the advertisements above the urinals came with a Geocities address. I also overheard that Brad Paisley song about drinking corn liquor off a tractor tire, itself a contemporary number played on a thoroughly modern internet jukebox. But if you came of drinking age in the ’90s, this is a place that will push a few nostalgic buttons.
It’s a sports bar, and the Stars’ Stanley Cup victory is lauded prominently. If you’re wistful for that time in the franchise’s history, you’ll feel right at home. I felt at home, because inside, the walls are entirely covered in varnished wooden slats, arrayed diagonally on the top half of the walls and vertically along the bottom half. This is essentially my favorite thing to see in a bar. I even dug the New York iconography painted on the walls, though I didn’t look carefully enough to see if the Twin Towers were represented –– I wouldn’t have been offended, because 15 years later is enough distance for me to get on a sorta pleasantly melancholy bent about when life was simpler and the TSA did not exist.
I ordered a couple of Budweisers and some nachos. Big Apple Café offers your basic bar foods (wings, burgers, and all that, plus fried ravioli), though I wouldn’t call the menu spectacular. The nachos were slightly better than Taco Bell’s, which also means they were perfectly fine for soaking up some macrobrews. Judging by the conversations I overheard, everyone posted at the bar dabbled in being a mechanic in some form or another. Seeing as how Big Apple is pretty close to DFW Airport, some of this tech talk had to do with planes. I also heard a terrifying story about someone getting caught in a wood chipper. And another about a minor chainsaw injury.
Despite a sign in the entryway that bans smoking pipes, cloves, or cigars, smoking cigarettes is allowed. Along with the idea that my appearance might revert to whatever I looked like in 2001, it occurred to me that the ashtrays and cigarette smoke were central to what made the Big Apple seem so dated. One day, possibly soon, bar owners who haven’t opted for a clean-air policy will seem like living fossils –– if I ever open a bar that still lets you smoke cigarettes, I’m gonna call it the Coelacanth.
Archaic smoking policy notwithstanding, Big Apple Café is worth a visit. Whether you’re blue collar, white collar, crewneck collar, or the kind of collar you would’ve worn to the first Family Values Tour, the staff is happy to have you. Moreover, there’s a Clinton trying to get into the White House again. Might as well unpack that old Korn shirt and travel to the Big Apple for a drink. –– Steve Steward
Follow Steve @bryanburgertime.
[box_info]Big Apple Café
14200 Trinity Blvd, Ste 400, FW. 817-540-6770.[/box_info]
