The Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost. Protons, electrons, neutrons. Birth, life, death. The fundamentals of our universe are built on the power of three. Vermont, too, houses a formidable and essential triumvirate — a trio of singular dive bars all within steps of Five Corners in Essex Junction: Park Place Tavern & Grill, the Hornets’ Nest, and Murray’s Tavern & Grill. Within these 12 walls, there’s a barstool for every mood, craving and manner of company.
Normcore rules at Park Place Tavern. The lighting is more restaurant than bar (set just below stun), while the popcorn machine, pool table, digital jukebox and perpetual sports flicker on oversize TVs could be plucked from Anytown, USA. (Fun fact: You may be able to program the jukebox remotely, but you didn’t hear it from me.)
What separates Park Place from its restaurant counterparts are the regulars who belly up to the wraparound bar. In my half dozen visits, everyone on the rail seemed to know each other, and a perpetual din of shouty banter and convivial ribbing bounced around the room. This is a working-class hang, with Carhartts, hoodies, camo and steel-toed boots the uniform of choice. My read is that Park Place’s regulars are a sarcastic, comfort-seeking and grounded bunch who enjoy each other’s company and prefer drinking in proximity to drinking alone.
But it’s not only the chummy gang that entices here: Park Place’s Buffalo wings are a major highlight, full stop. Long before I was on the dive beat, a few trusted friends recommended the place for its punching-way-above-their-weight-class wings. They were right. Saucy, crisp, classic and $13 for a dozen (Park Place might be the only bar around that didn’t double its prices during the Great American Wing Shortage), these are now my go-to favorites.
Wings aren’t your thing? An extensive menu lists typical bar fare, including nachos, quesadillas, hot dogs and a surprisingly solid burger. For those with a more adventurous palate: coconut shrimp, corn chowder, hot turkey with gravy. All pair stunningly well with Miller Lite.
I’d like to introduce a metric to the Deep Dive series: the Record Scratch Factor. When nonregulars walk into a neighborhood bar, they affect the energy, and the Record Scratch is a gauge of that energy shift. At 1 on the scale, you are essentially invisible; at 10, you’re Pee-wee Herman in a biker bar (pre-“Tequila” dance, obviously).
Park Place is a Record Scratch of 4: You may get a few looks, but they’re not unfriendly. The bartenders are kind and efficient, and it’s hard to avoid slipping into the genial ease of the place. On my first visit, I found myself in a substantive conversation with the dude next to me about family and errant life choices, which, honestly, is near the peak of what I’m looking for on dive bar mountain. And although Park Place is reputedly a bit rowdier than its neighbors, odds are that Pee-wee Herman would feel welcome.
A quarter-mile stroll to the north along the railroad tracks (not a recommended route), you’ll find the Hornets’ Nest and its vaguely Irish-themed exterior. Its designation as a dive is debatable. Stephanie Aldrich, the bubbly and amiable bartender, confirmed this: “It’s a half dive,” she said with a wink. But I’m gonna round up for the sake of inclusion.
The Hornets’ Nest does have many divey hallmarks: a devoted clientele, pull tickets, weekly National Football League betting pools, $3.50 domestic beers, karaoke and local gossip. Decked with mini disco balls and string lights, it feels the closest of this trio to a hipster hangout and is probably the most amenable to an unfamiliar face. Record Scratch Factor: 2. And I can say confidently that it’s the only bar in town that stocks lavender simple syrup.
Quirks abound here, including a diminutive “leprechaun door” out front (leprechauns remained elusive on my many visits) and a shared bathroom with Irrawaddy, the newly relaunched Burmese restaurant next door. Looking for an inspired date concept? Order dinner at Irrawaddy, walk through the bathroom and plunk down at the Nest for the most unique crawl in town.
For those with a more domestic appetite, the bar currently has a single offering: Jimmy Dogs. Like a Michigan dog but less saucy, the Jimmy Dog is tunneled with crumbled beef, onions and mustard and is now in my top-tier hot dog adventures alongside the behemoth at Costco. Order two. I say this from experience.
Bravery here is rewarded — especially for Frugal Fannies — with the cheapest drinks in town.
A 30-second walk farther north, toward the bus station, delivers you to Murray’s Tavern. Not every dive is an old man bar, but every old man bar is a dive, and Murray’s proves the rule. The Record Scratch Factor is high — 7 or 8 — but your results may vary, especially if you’re not wearing floral pants. A willingness to venture out of one’s comfort zone here is rewarded with one of the more unusual drinking experiences in Vermont. The moment I walked in, nary a note of music could be heard, just the creak and click of the front door followed by drop-dead silence. The vibe? Think early retirement community meets David Lynch, and you won’t be too far off.
Established over 50 years ago, Murray’s has aged along with its customers. This has been reflected in the ever-earlier hours with each passing decade. Standard bar times gave way to 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. — a boon for the early risers. Last call at 6:45? That’s a real commitment to the day-drinker nation. If you’re hankering for built-in drinking companions before noon in Essex Junction, this is your spot.
Murray’s is a time capsule, with bric-a-brac last updated when Led Zeppelin were still releasing studio albums and when rusty signs that declare “Eat Oysters and Keep It Up!” may have felt a little fresher. The bar’s slightly labyrinthine layout charms: An annexed old apartment, complete with kitchenette, houses the requisite pool table and dartboard. A similarly glommed-on room in the back corner gives off grandpa man-cave energy. The only thing missing is a plastic-covered upholstered sofa and some dusty dart trophies in the back. Oh, wait, those are here, too.
All of this, along with the Rorschach-esque stains on the drop-tile ceiling (I found a buffalo!), puts Murray’s in an entirely different lane than the youth-oriented bars of Burlington. I don’t get the sense that fresh faces appear often, and I’m doubtful that there are weekly meetings on how to recruit new customers. Adorably, nearly every customer is welcomed by name (“Hey, Ed!”) and sent off in similar fashion when they leave (“Bye, Ed!”), but my newbie status didn’t make me feel unwelcome. Bravery here is rewarded — especially for Frugal Fannies — with the cheapest drinks in town. Nowhere else can you get a shot of whiskey and a can of PBR for $8. Ditto if you want to drink next to someone connected to an oxygen tank on the bar.
As Five Corners expands its offerings, here’s hoping these three community anchors continue to thrive and retain their respective dive bar magic. If you’re not sure where to start, here’s a handy guide by yours truly. Just look to the flowchart on the right and follow the dancing Pee-wee.
“Deep Dives” is a series exploring Vermont dive bars and the communities around them. Got a dive bar we should know about? Email culture@sevendaysvt.com.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Go With the Flowchart | An illustrated guide to the two and a half dives at the Five Corners in Essex Junction”
This article appears in Dec 14-20, 2022.
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