Our Two Cents
OK, so as you know, The Hamilton Inn has taken the place of the seminal Hamilton Park Ale House which, to be quite honest, didn’t really pave the way for anything like The Hamilton Inn.
Enter The Inn, and you immediately sense the woodiness of the establishment. Dark, walnut stained bar, floors and tables with what seem to be rough hewn wine barrel or bottle case sides adorn the walls with deep, rich mirroring, vintage pictures and curios. Former patrons will immediately (and gladly, no doubt) notice the absence of gargantuan televisions over the bar. Also gone are the looms of chintzy Radio Shack clear-plastic-conduit-tube lighting.
Crane your neck around from the bar to look at the specials chalkboard. Listed are The Inn’s fabulous signature cocktails, victuals and entrées. Browse the taps and you’ll note an unexciting Belgian, a Molson Coors pseudo-Belgian, a Belgian Pilsner lager affectionately known as hooligan fuel (see a theme here?), a local Pennsylvanian, some hippiecrack from Louisiana, and some Black Stuff. Packaged options are much more exciting with Victory and Oskar Blues offerings at the ready. Among many others, they also serve Michelob Ultra, PBR, Bud Light, and Corona if you are feeling image conscious. A very Hobokenesque inventory from our recollection, but rather serviceable, nonetheless. Prices are average all around. We were in here on a weekday for lunch, so to be fair, we have no idea if things get spicy around Happy Hour.
We did take lunch at an actual table rather than the bar. Our server, while very put together, knowledgeable, and neat-looking, did seem a bit scatterbrain during our visit. Slow to attend to us and messing up an order slightly, he was polite and profusely apologetic. Unfortunately, management was either absent or didn’t care to make good on his mix-up. We’ll certainly swing by for another look once the team at The Hamilton Inn finds their groove, but for now – color us unimpressed.