Dan F.
Yelp
This place has just about everything... except food.
It's also a very confusing place, directly across the street from an adult video store, the capital building in the distance.
The building itself seems to be suffering an identity crisis, a converted gas station, retrofitted with one of the oldest bar tops in Madison. Made from wood older than me, this thing is huge, the kind I might imagine the old west had a lot of. I can imagine rolling in after a long day of cattle-thieving and damsel distressing, ordering a stiffy off the extensive whiskey menu with the tip of my cowboy hat.
Yeah, if I was a cattle thief, or a bandit, I would definitely come to this place to wind down from various sundry pursuits.
This place really reminds me a lot of Barley Johns in New Brighton, MN. Sure, they don't brew their own beer, but they have at least twenty high-quality beers on tap (my recommendation being the ale asylum IPA). They're also stocked to the gills with bottles of beers like Chimay and Dogfishhead 90/120 minute IPA.
Also, because there is no kitchen, they actually encourage you to order in from delivery places in the area (Glass Nickel Pizza, etc.). This is a concept I can really get behind. Never before have I thought it possible for a bar to have a BYOF sign out front. Oh golly, I'm getting a little light-headed, my sense of the universe is shifting subtly. So many things to like.
So, you may be asking, why not the requisite fifth star? Well, I'll tell you. I'm not a follower, I'm a cattle thief, and this place is full of beer snobs. Despite being an amateur beer snob myself, I still get annoyed when I see others like me in public. Jerks. Oh, still feeling light headed, my vision is blurry, like I'm having a dream, or... a flashback to the wild west.
I rise from my seat after two Asylum Ales and a malt whiskey, my spurs jangle as I approach the table of a beer snob eating pizza. "Pardon me mister, I believe that's my pizza you're eatin'." As I say this, I twist my mustache with one hand and stroke my revolver with the other, in plain sight. All the patrons, and the barkeep see the conflict brewing and take notice. Malt House is now completely quiet, save the tumbleweeds rolling by.
"Why no sir, you must be mistaken. I ordered this pizza just a moment ago."
I cock my brow and screw my lips, spitting into a spittoon over thirty feet away "Well, I guess we're at an impasse here sir. What say we step outside and have a gentlemanly talk about this."