Naja's Place - Redondo Beach

My office elected me...okay, fine, appointed/forced me to be social chair. My job description: to choose a bar for happy hour every other week or so and convince them to show up to said bar. 

They say I'm doing okay, but they might be FOS. All events have been sort of attended - at least 3-5 of the 15-20 invited do show up, but a show rate like that is more like a protracted slow-clap when you finish the race... after every other runner has lapped you at least three times.

But I persist. Because I am stubborn AF, and there's no way I'm missing IPA week at Naja's. Unfortunately, they've run out of our first five choices of IPAs, but there are still plenty to try, and the company is #worthit. Three is never a crowd when these guys come out.

We all order different things; New Belgium's lighter, blonder interpretation for the hoppy lightweight, something dark for the man with only three facial expressions, and the Knotty IPA from Three Weavers for inquisitive me. 

There is only one thing that rivals the company, and that is this basket of Wings. I didn't even think to order food; as social chair, I have much to learn. The convo is flowing, but this dry-rub has a layer of freshly-ground habanero that goes good with beer and adds spice to everything it touches...just make sure it doesn't touch your eyes.

For every protein, there needs to be a carb. Naja's has Fries. Because who doesn't like fries? These are crispy with a layer of golden grease.

I rarely write about bars, but I'll make an exception for Naja's Place. They are a pillar upon which the very foundation of Redondo Pier is built, and the too-cool-for-school ambiance with a California-laid-back vibe captures the very spirit of the pier. 

The happy hour is short, but I come away just a little more determined to turn my happy hours into tradition. This social chair does NOT intend to slack, and sooner rather than later, I'll be dragging the group back to Naja's.

The Highlander - Atlanta, Georgia

From fine dining to dive, the Highlander is quite a step down from the manicured walls of Bacchanalia...

Except it isn't. It's actually great, no facetiousness, I swear. It is a den of creative expression, proud of it's non-conforming, common-ground for the common-man appeal. And it's beautiful. Wallpapered with art for sale, all sorts of graphic masterpieces, the walls speak of the inner workings of so many beautiful minds, all clashing cohesively. 

The menu features some rarer beers, but I'm too hungry to care. An IPA from Wicked Weed of Asheville, North Carolina from the featured menu is fine by me. I know it's 11 AM, but it's 5 o'clock somewhere.

The menu is actually impressive. All the best of the bar food/gastropub grub, but there's a great range of things, including several types of wings. Our Jerk Wings match the bohemian vibe, laid-back wings with kickin' spices clinging.

The soup of the day is a Crab Bisque, and it is hitting my seafood sore spot like a carnival hammer hits the high striker. The soup is smooth, the creamy texture tempered by shreds of crabmeat. It's been decades since I've had a really good crab bisque.

Beef Stroganoff. Seriously. Yes, seriously. Seriously satisfying egg noodles coated just lightly in cream, interspersed with tidbits of mushrooms and very tender beef. I could use more of that cream-goddess sauce, but it's hard to argue with a dish where the beef is even softer than the mushroom.

The term "dive bar" means so many things, but I wish The Highlander would stop referring to itself as such. It's so much more than that. It's a place with character, a safe space for all sorts of expression, a place where anyone can come as they are. Plus, there's really nothing divey about them. Their beer list is incredible, their food is great, and the ambiance is truly one of a kind. "Atlanta's best bar," their menu says. Now THAT is an accurate description.