The beer yet pours: Ulrich’s, Buffalo

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You could make a meal of the fresh rye bread and butter, if they let you.

I read in the paper last month that Ulrich’s Tavern, the oldest bar in Buffalo, was facing the possibility of closing its doors.

Having already lost one beloved bar last year, the story bothered me. So when Scott took me out to a Sabres game a couple weeks ago, before the team gave up the ghost, I suggested Ulrich’s, at 674 Ellicott St.

It was an evening to remember, before a game to forget. Ulrich’s usually has Spaten, a German beer I like, on tap, along with nearly a dozen others. It’s a friendly shore to wash up on when you’re thirsty, indeed.

There was also a guy who had apparently spilled gasoline on himself before heading to Ulrichs. It lent the proceedings a touch of danger, but thankfully no one produced an open flame. I’ve never been so glad that smoking is banned in New York State’s bars.

Scott ordered the sweet potato pancakes, which came topped with a sort of fruit compote. He liked them, but I thought the spicing was a bit too pumpkin pie-ish.

I went for the the fish fry, paired with spaetzle, the fresh noodle-like dumplings, as befitting a German place. It wasn’t spectacular, just completely competent.

The basket of fresh, nicely sour rye bread didn’t hurt either.

May Ulrich’s stay open another hundred years, until customers dial their transporter booth number from around the world to pop by for a Spaten and a fish fry.

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