The Bier Markt is what my wise old pappy used to call a "horse of many feathers." Sometimes it's a gastropub with decent eats and an impressive selection of beer, and sometimes it's a lifesized whack-a-mole of douche-baggery (i.e., a club), filled to the brim with well-lubricated MBAs and girls wearing invisa-skirts. It's for this latter aspect that I write this review.
I'll to my best to appreciate this place as Friday Night Bar qua Friday Night Bar. Compared to club district this place is like the Royal Ontario Museum on the first day of an Egyptian uncrating: downright civilized. The bouncers here aren't tweaking meatheads on power-trips, the line actually MOVES based on capacity (as patrons left, new people got in), and the clientele aren't really the greasy, over-dressed, roofie-or-be-roofied, gel-slathered assholes that are crawling all over Richmond Street on a typical Friday night. You won't ever feel like you're going to get shot at the BierMarkt and that's a good thing.
The downsides of this place betray my old-fogeyism more than anything else. BM is packed and impossible to navigate, pretty damn loud (especially near the stage if there is a live band), the floors are sticky, and it smells like beer in here (duh right?). Five years ago (OK fine, ten) these could have been selling points for me. Now they are annoyances, but minor ones at that. That night, I never had to wait long to get a drink (OK fine, I was parked at the bar), and that's probably my #1 pet peeve about these places. When we were booted at 2am, they weren't dicks about it.
So yeah, good times. I'd avoid showing up at 11:00pm on a Friday like I did, as there is a long wait ahead of you. But it's not a vanity line, and once you do get in, you will actually be able to get a drink. Trust me, you may need it.
Obligatory Title Pun: A dare you to find a LAGGER line up OR: This place is HOPPING!
Menu Readability: I just look at the handles on the taps.
Need to mention: They have LOTS of beer on tap and good ones too. Don't be a douche and order a cocktail. Seriously.
What this place teaches me about myself: I don't have a "pappy" and no he didn't say that. But still, I miss him dearly, as fictional as he is. read more