The Bell House

Photograph: Talia Simhi

For night owls who equate clandestine clubs on desolate streets with hipness, the Bell House has your number. The trek to this Gowanus bar and music venue—from the creators of Park Slope’s Union Hall and Brooklyn Heights’ Floyd—is as bleak as anything the Meatpacking District had to offer in the ’90s. On a recent weeknight, the only souls we passed on the deserted streets were two toughs on cell phones trying to find out which precinct their pal had been hauled off to. In such vacant surroundings, the Bell House is a welcome oasis. The sprawling two-room spot is mainly about music; bands appear most every night. And as a watering hole, it belongs to the beer-and-whiskey school to which Ditmas Park’s Sycamore and Cobble Hill’s Char No. 4 are also recent additions. The venue’s two bars—one nestled in an ornate front room, the other dispensing hooch in the rear performance space—provide plenty of drinking options, and you don’t necessarily need tickets for a show to throw one back. The eclectic front lounge emits a vintage vibe, with its plush upholstered chairs, long wooden bar and high ceilings trimmed with visible duct work. There’s also an impressive selection of 12 beers on tap, from Anchor Steam to Smutty Nose ($5–$6), and snacks including DUB Pies and Floyd’s beer cheese (a mix of cheddar, beer and spices served with Ritz crackers). In back—where most of the young hoodie-and-jeans-wearing Brooklynite clientele linger—you’ll find the live music, but there’s frequently a cover, and you’re limited to four brews on tap and drinks in plastic cups. Wherever you land, you can get generous pours of 20 bourbons ($6–$13), from Fighting Cock to 18-year-old Elijah Craig. There are custom cocktails, accompanied by florid J. Peterman–esque descriptions (“This cocktail is like the bus that you catch at the mall. It won’t take you all the way home, but just almost close enough to walk”)—but stay away. They are mainly toxic dorm-room concoctions; a White Light–White Heat made of tequila, lime juice, seltzer and Tabasco tasted like the cup of bilious acidity you’d expect from its ingredients. A can’t-miss drinking destination the Bell House is not. But, if a band draws you to its door, stick to a Booker’s and the music and you’ll do fine.

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