Breadsoda: A Well-Kept Secret with the Recipe for Good Times

Like its name, Breadsoda was a mystery to me. It’s a blink-and-you-miss-it neighborhood bar tucked between an office building and a coffee shop. I walked right past it before noticing the sign directing me to its downstairs entrance. But once inside, I couldn’t help wondering why more people aren’t talking about this place.

It had a lot of disparate elements, but they all gelled perfectly. State-of-the-art pool tables and high-end imported beers meet no frills sandwiches and pickles, while scenes from the film “Bullitt” flash on the walls. I had the best Rueben of my life, then washed it down with some Gaffel Kolsch, Peroni, and Erdinger Weissbrau. I may or may not have also had four of their homemade cookies too.

We had another good turnout with lots of new faces (including an old friend I hadn’t seen in over three years!), but I started to worry when I noticed the middle-school dance phenomenon occurring. Luckily, it was just a passing phase, and soon enough everyone was mixing and meeting new people. Naturally, the crowd began gravitating to the pool tables, and I was excited to see whether highly acclaimed pool shark “The Snake” would live up to her name. In a three-game battle for the ages, I’m sad to say she bested me. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that she used the bridge easily 20 times, often for shots that were within arm’s reach. Not impressed.

I had to leave early because I am a tool, but am told that as the night wore on, a dedicated group played a raucous game of quarters, while the last three standing decided to make the night a “Double Feature” and wandered across the street to Bourbon. But not before one of them attempted to use the men’s room, only to find it guarded by a larger fella who said “something’s up in the girls room, and my woman’s using this one.” He waited patiently, only to see one A-to-Zer escorting – no, carrying – another A-to-Zer-who-shall-remain-nameless out of the ladies’ room. I take that as a sign of a successful evening indeed.

On a final note, I did a little research today. Turns out “breadsoda” is an old Prohibition Era term that people used as a code when referring to beer served at speakeasies. Here’s hoping this Breadsoda doesn’t remain secret much longer.

All-star of the evening: Ginny Dean, who not only graced us “kids” with her presence, but also outlasted many in attendance.