bring back the pub

The concept of a third place has become a cliche. Everyone's favourite publication has an article on what they are, why they're important. In fact, here's a selection: Vox, The Atlantic, Metro, New Zealand Geographic.

Every time I read one of these articles, it resonates on a deep level. I too am guilty of spending too much time between work and my couch at home, while my brain needs me to be out with friends filling my cup.

There’s a specific type of third place that I’m increasingly looking for: the pub.

When I talk about a pub, in the literal sense I mean a place where you can go to get a beer or pink lemonade, a plate of fish and chips and maybe watch a sports game on a big screen. In the figurative sense, though, I’m talking about a genre of hospitality establishment without artifice. No "wait to be seated" sign, no bookings, no table service even: a pub is a place that you know you can walk into any time, order at the bar/counter, eat or drink the same thing you always drink, where the rules of the place fade into the background.

A pub, for the purposes of this email dispatch, can be a bar or a cafe, it can serve Heineken on tap or natural chilled red, the food can be a chocolate croissant or a steak frites. The key thing is consistency: you know it'll be there when you need it, and you know what you'll order when you get there. Because the food and drink isn't the point of this visit, everything else is.

The social media era of dining out has slowly killed the pub, in Tāmaki Makaurau at least. Every trip out for a meal or a drink is an opportunity to cross that new place off the list, and every visit to a new place requires learning a new set of rules. Can you get a spot as a walk in on a Wednesday, or should you make a booking? When you arrive, do you take a seat? Do you walk to the counter? Do you hover awkwardly by the door until someone comes to see you? And then, just as the conversation starts firing, or you start cracking into your book, you realise: you don't even know what you're going to order. Then, the dance starts again.

Lots of the time, this rigmarole is worth it. A meal at a new place can change your life. I still remember my first oyster at Depot, the first time we had the noodle salad at Ockhee, the first bowl of ramen in Tokyo. My wife and I go out for dinner at a new place every month, our best new year's resolution ever.

But sometimes, you just want to go to the pub. Maybe you need to unwind after a stressful workday, escape the house on the weekend, catch up with an old friend. In those situations, you might not want to be asked if you've dined somewhere before, or try something you have to google the name of. You just want to head somewhere you know will be open and have room, drink something unsurprising, eat something you've had a million times before. Those places are few and far between, perhaps because the feeling of familiarity and comfort doesn’t translate to a for you page.

It's not quite a textbook pub, but an example of the shift I'm talking about is the Federal Deli. Before Covid, the Fed was open for breakfast, lunch and dinner, 7 days a week. The menu never changed, they didn't take bookings, and everyone who studied in Auckland had been there a few times and knew their order. In a word, reliable. I worked there for nearly two years when I was at uni, and in that time it was in the Metro Top 50 for cafes, restaurants and "cheap eats". Now, they've changed their opening hours - where it used to be 7am-late on weekdays, 8am-late on weekends, and open until 1am on Fridays and Saturdays, it is now:

This is a mess! Of course, this didn’t just happen to annoy me personally. We had a global pandemic, a series of massive disruptions to the economy and rampant inflation which both made it harder to run a restaurant that was open all the time and also gave places like the Fed social licence to cut costs by reducing opening hours. But, however justified the reasoning, the outcome sucks! If you're out in town on a Monday after 3pm, you can no longer just roll in for a chicken salad sandwich and a cup of bottomless coffee.

My favourite pub is actually a cafe: Daily Daily, on Karangahape Road. They aren't just the best brewers of coffee in town, they're also a perfect encapsulation of what I'm looking for from a pub. They have a reliable, consistent menu, which is small and perfect, they're open every day at regular cafe times, and there's almost always room to sit.

That's why I'm there almost every weekend, meeting friends, reading a book, writing clipboard (including this issue), running into acquaintances I haven't seen for a while. If I’m asked for suggestions on where to go for a catch up, it’s near the top of my list - everyone knows their coffee order, and no one judges you for sitting for a couple of hours nursing a brew.

What I haven't got at the moment, is a go-to pub which is actually a pub. A drinking spot that can be walked into and enjoyed at any time I'd like. A few weeks ago, my wife and I walked into a spot in our newish neighbourhood which we thought would fill that slot, but it was a no go. Weird table service, empty, with a menu that pretended to be fancy when we just wanted something fried and warming. We had one drink and went back into the night, disappointed

So, I'm on the lookout for a go-to watering hole that's either close to work (in the CBD) or home (Onehunga). I've included a few favourites of mine that aren't quite in the right spot below, in case you're on the lookout yourself and in the area!

• Northcote Tavern

• Morningside Tavern

• Acho’s, Karangahape Road

• Bar Martin, Mt Albert

• Pomeroy's, Ōtautahi

• Ascot, Pōneke

• No. 7, Pitt St

That's all for this issue of clipboard, thanks for reading! If you like this newsletter, forward it to your cool friend who takes charge of ordering for the table. If you want to get in touch with a question, comment or offer of work, you can find clipboard and me on Instagram or just hit reply to this email.