Unlike many a neighborhood bar, Palmer’s tosses off any nepotistic allegiances to possessive regulars, opens its doors to anyone and everyone, so long as you know how to behave. If not, wind up on the dreaded 86’d wall, replete with name and detailed description of offense. Most are “86’d forever.”
That said, it takes a lot to get 86’d from this beloved West Bank institution, where owner Tony Zaccardi fondly remembers a passed out Santa Claus at one visit.
“I knew this was the place for me,” he said then. In addition to a pedigree since 1906, live music every night of the week, and an upstairs apartment that was once a brothel (owners found whalebone corsets upon a recent excavation) Palmer’s boasts other, less obvious features to recommend it.
In summer, find a sprawling outdoor patio (smoking still allowed) including live music, fire pits, and even decent wine by the glass and the bottle (don’t tell anyone!).
Check the website for charming and quirky events like potluck dinners, jug bands, Rock and Roll trivia, and lots more.