Like Old Times – at the Blind Tiger
- Limetree
- 1 hour ago
- 2 min read
By Tony Forder
I was there to sign my book Early Days of American Craft Beer Through the Eyes of Ale Street News. I had considered reviving my old mode of transportation:
Book excerpt Chap. 2 – “I later used the rollerblades to better effect to go to the Blind Tiger Alehouse – original location in the West Village. I would drive my car to Weehawken and take the ferry across the river into the city. On the other side I'd switch shoes for rollerblades and skate down the Henry Hudson. The evening air and city lights could be magical with a full moon kissing the Empire State as it rose. I'd also have a good thirst by the time I reached the Tiger and figured to work off another pint on the return trip.”
Instead, I decided on a more public form of transport – good old NJ Transit. It was a nice day, somewhere in the low 30s and the sunny was shining as I walked the mile from my house to the Anderson Street train station in Hackensack – new apartment buildings clustering around the commuter station, evidencing the town’s NYC exodus housing boom.
End of the line Hoboken, and the PATH deposits me at Christopher Street, 5 mins walk to the Tiger. They had a reserved table for me, front and central. Sarah was pulling the taps, manager Lucas appeared later. Mike Lovullo was there, he of Lovullopalooza fame, the night when they put on his choice of taps. Sales rep for Union Distributors for 20 years (he now has all of Manhattan), the Tiger is his office on Tuesdays. “Ale Street News gave me my first job in beer,” he says. ‘Tis true, a former teacher, he was also one of our photographers.
The ever-faithful BeerSensei, Warren Monteiro enters with friend, ivory-tickling Holly. “The shape shifter lives,” I declare, “I thought you were in New Orleans.” Got back last night. They were in London three days before that.
Old buddy Pete Cotter was there at the bar, former partner at Blue Point Brewing before they went the InBev route. You can find him at his People's Pub in Bayport, LI when he’s not traveling the world.
Kudos to the Tiger, keeping the faith and soldiering on in the flattening world of craft beer. Still cozy, colorful crowd, awesome 28 tap list – only the prices have changed. Wayne pulls out his trumpet, buys a book. Lucas buys one for the bar. Pete already has a copy but buys another for a friend. Some dude named Zilla comes over and regales us with stories of Burning Man, doesn’t want to carry the book around.
It’s good to be back. It was always a tough place to leave – my wife used to refer to it as Blind Drunk Tiger when I would somehow find my way home and stumble into bed. Still, times have changed and having melted into my Allagash Winter velvety quad my exodus was respectful (shoutout also to Fox Farm Brewery for their Near and Far NEIPA). I found the almost hidden PATH entrance on Christopher Street that suggests you’re descending into some sort of Harry Potter world and madeb my escape from Gotham.