Eugene N.
Yelp
Mojo's Local Tap and Kitchen - A Nobleman's Lunch Chronicle
From the manicured shade of Land Park to the vibrant fringe of Central Midtown, there lies a curious little establishment on the corner of 14th and I: Mojo's Local Tap and Kitchen. Half indoor, half open-air, this establishment feels as if a bar and kitchen decided to take up residence in a well-kept industrial garage. With its ample cross-ventilation and unfussy charm, the Nobleman dares say--it works.
Mojo's is, by all intents, a temple for local craft beer enthusiasts. With 40 taps flowing freely, this is the kind of place where one watches the Kings, A's, or Giants with a pint of Pliny the Elder in hand, not a care in the world--save, perhaps, for the second quarter defense.
I have only visited during lunch, and truth be told, I find the setting perfectly agreeable. The open-air concept makes for a refreshing midday escape. But it is their lunch menu that has earned my repeated patronage. Specifically, the Spicy BLT Sandwich--a masterstroke of flavor, paired with golden fries that actually taste like they were cooked with intention. Bravo.
Yes, one does order at the counter, and yes, one is prompted to tip at the counter--while doing the work oneself, mind you--but the staff is consistently warm and obliging, and that counts for much in the Nobleman's book.
Now, if I may offer a gentleman's note of critique, possibly even advice: relying solely on craft beer, even with showstoppers like Pliny, while neglecting to offer a humble lineup of corporate mainstays--Modelo, Coors Light, or even that old American warhorse Budweiser--strikes me as, dare I say, hubristic. One must know their clientele, and many have recently distanced themselves from craft beer due to its higher ABV and calorie counts. This Nobleman would take a cold Modelo over a Flaming Zebra Pants IPA any day of the week (and twice on Wing Wednesdays).
To omit the basics is akin to opening a movie theater that only shows French noir from the 1950s--you'll earn praise from a niche, but leave the everyman at the door, popcorn in hand.
Nonetheless, I shall continue to return to Mojo's for its good cheer, fine food, and welcoming vibe--hoping one day to wash down my pulled pork sandwich with a Pacifico or, should the gods of hops smile upon us, a resurrected Lowenbrau.
Until then, I remain your faithful reviewer,
A Land Park Nobleman