The entrance feeding in from the Arts Factory.
Some of my favorite nights in Vegas have involved Crown & Anchor. There was the time I chased a marathon tequila-tasting with the Royal Wedding broadcast, and only survived all those hungover hours because of beautifully greasy English bacon. There was the World Cup viewing so packed that no one could move and we all helplessly sweat on each other. There were countless rounds of darts and chicken fingers, pitiful games of pool upstairs and mellow happy-hours on the patio with my dog (and sweet servers who made him feel like a big deal). There was so much cider and Boddingtons, which I swilled to the point of having to buy bigger pants when I was living in England as a college junior. So I had high hopes for Downtown Crown, the latest outpost in the local pub family that just flung open its doors in the Arts Factory.
Those doors used to swing on Bar+Bistro, and the neighborhood has been waiting since B+B's closure last summer for its destination patio to come alive. Inside the building, other tenants must be pleased about having this spot to grab a beer after work again, not to mention the potential bump in foot traffic. But will Downtown Crown have the right feel for this very special corner of Las Vegas?
Of course.
For Wednesday night's opening, Kristy and I showed up at 4:50, greeted by a Union Jack-speckled sign that read: KEEP CALM open today at 5 p.m. Most of the bar seats were already taken, so we slid into the far end next to a proper leather briefcase with no owner in sight. A lovely bartender in a plaid mini took our order for those unholy-good chicken fingers, a Scotch egg and a couple of pints. The beer list wasn't printed yet, but she rattled off the taps and bottles without breaking a sweat, everything from Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA to Thatchers traditional Somerset cider. While Kristy hugged it out with artist friends, I strolled the space. I was stoked to see two dartboards above an oriental rug with a toe-line in place, and a hypnotic, wall-mounted jukebox that was flashing the face of Andy Grammer, a guy I've never heard of whose genres are listed as pop-rock and blue-eyed soul. Elsewhere on the walls were maps of the motherland, Beatles memorabilia, equestrian tack, fake birds, real copper teapots and other charming flotsam. You could picture the place decades from now, with a few more tchotchkes and a lot more layers of bar patina. In this moment, it smelled like fresh paint. Very un-Crown, but not unpleasant.
Behold, the Scotch egg. No, that is not too much sauce.
What was oh-so-Crown was the chicken—juicy, expertly breaded with the thinnest overcoat of crunch and begging for a dunk in both ranch and hot sauce. This kitchen didn't need time to get the hang of it. The Scotch egg was something I'd always wanted to try, and Kristy went for it, slathering mayo-mustard sauce on the planet of sausage swaddling hard egg. (Apparently you can ask for it cold, but don't.) As we took down our drinks and theorized what might be inside the abandoned briefcase, Downtown Crown filled way up, a lot of the faces familiar. Artists with studios in the Arts Factory, from James Henninger and Alex Huerta to Jana Lynch (and her mini-greyhound Sissy Grace, riding around in Lynch's vest), were there and seemed pretty happy about it. A loud group cheers-ed the bar being open. Darts flew. And I think I spotted Bar+Bistro owner Wes Myles camped out by the Newcastle mural and its #NoBollocks charge.
On my way out I walked through the patio, its fake grass and cornhole setup hinting at what's to come. We'll see how the neighborhood responds, but to me, this tiny taste of Downtown Crown felt warm and good. And I definitely drank to that.
