Bloomsday: Philly
414 S 2nd St, Head House, Philadelphia PA
By Nora Kaye, Guest Writer
The Place: An inviting and friendly wine bar where I go to seek solace from St. Patrick’s Day mayhem.
The Time: It’s 5pm on Friday March 17th, do you know where your leprechauns are? I am visiting my grandmother in Philly and I’ve just awoken from a lazy afternoon nap, exhausted from seeing an afternoon movie (I’m going to be an incredible old person). But before “girls’ dinner” with my grandmother (92) and her young friend (72), I decide to use my knees while I still have them to take a stroll…and by that, I mean get a drink. I choose Bloomsday Wine Pub in Headhouse Square (0.2 miles from my grandmother’s house, the walk is going really well) for its welcoming, oldenday facade and the hope that, although it’s called a pub, I will avoid the St. Patrick’s Day green-clad debauchery. I’m half-Irish and adore soda bread, Martin McDonagh, and drunken pub-singing on a craggy coast. But I can’t really stomach the Shamrock-shake, puke-on-the street, Paddy’s Day energy.
The Vibe: It’s a pleasant hodgepodge of twee energy: victorian-lite wallpapered accents, exposed brick and cream-colored walls with “funky” features. Funky is in quotes because although there are stabs at uniqueness and an attempt to cultivate a hip vibe, the light fixtures and art feel a bit haphazardly plucked from Ikea. But I also worship at the church of Ikea, so I feel at home - especially at the bar, which runs the length of the back wall. There is also a wine shop, so you can have your cake and eat it too OR drink your wine and buy it too!
Glass of Riesling at Bloomsday
Although crowded on this happy hour Friday, the bar has a very “ladies who lunch” vibe. I sit at the only available seat, between two friends gossiping about a “Chad” over oysters and two other women who are exploring Bloomsday’s WINE HELMET offering (yup, you guessed it, red helmets that you strap two cans of wine to and drink through tubes), on what seems like stop #3 of their potentially infinite St. Patrick’s Day tour. They are trying to finagle a karaoke room for later in the evening since that’s “the dream.” (I’m dying to know what their go-to songs are. I feel like the drunker one could annihilate Stevie Nicks’ “Edge of Seventeen.”)
The Bartender: I don’t know if it’s because of my post-nap-addled brain or how gorgeous she is, but I can’t get my words together when the bartender asks what I want to drink. I’m interested in the on-tap wine offerings but am worried the Riesling will be too sweet (or as I say “too sweat, fresh..SWEET”). Is this early-onset dementia or have I just been re-watching Girls (WITH A CRITICAL EYE) and thinking of that scene where Hannah’s mom yells at her gay husband, “Riesling is too sweet!”? Anyway. With a firm yet kind tone, the bartender explains that the happy hour Wild Ferment Riesling that’s made in PA is not sweet, but textured and crisp with a little lacto-funk from the ferment. Okay, FLIRTING! I say yes please and thank you and also order some olives. Despite not being able to speak, I think I’m doing better than my wine helmet neighbors who I have heard say, “That’s why my kid is in therapy” and “that’s not the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth…”
The Drink: The bartender was spot on. The wine is refreshing, just a touch funky with a hint of effervescence. The brine of the olives cut any sweetness that is or isn’t in the wine. It makes me want to try all their other Pennsylvania-local wines and sample the snack selection - papas bravas, chips and dips, oysters…oh my! But I don’t want to be absolutely trashed, or full, for dinner so I opt for the Ploughman Dornick Cider from Aspers, PA, which is tart and refreshing. I close out and hustle back to my grandmother’s because now I’m running late.
Was I Hit On?: I wouldn’t say I was “hit on” in a literal, actual, real-life way. But the hot bartender asks if I’m “still or sparkling,” which I know is about water but also definitely maybe a coded flirt? But she probably says that to all the girls.
Should You Drink Here Alone?: You sure could, although it seems a bit more like a spot to come with a pal and split some dishes. Perhaps my grandmother and I will be back soon to be high society ladies who lunch. If we do, we are definitely getting the wine helmets.
Nora Kaye is a Brooklyn-based filmmaker, writer, and performer, passionate about telling comedic stories about the messiness of humanity. She recently fell in love with sours after a lifetime of being a "cider gal.” Growth: it can happen, in mysterious and glutenous ways. norakaye.com