Bad Brother

Bad Brother sits quietly on a corner in Fairmount, the kind of place you’d pass if you weren’t looking for it—and that’s exactly why it feels like home once you do. There’s no neon flash, no self-conscious Instagram wall—just the comforting glow of a small bar where regulars and newcomers blend seamlessly along the polished wood. Step inside and you’re met with an honest warmth: the sort of bar where the faces behind the counter know your name, and maybe your drink order too. It’s a family operation—literally—with one of the "Bad Brothers" tending bar most nights, their easygoing banter setting the tone for what follows. The menu hums with American comfort classics—burgers, juicy pork, wings that yield at the bone—but look closer and you’ll spot a quietly adventurous streak. There are themed nights worth planning around: Steak Night on Sundays, Meatloaf & Martinis on Mondays, Wine & Cheese Wednesdays. Each week brings new temptations, from grilled asparagus laced with maitake to seafood tagliatelle for Valentine’s Day crowds. Even vegetarians find themselves in good hands here; the chef relishes improvisation and isn’t boxed in by tradition. Bad Brother is compact—intimate enough that conversation drifts easily between tables but never so loud as to drown out laughter. Hand-thrown ceramics cradle each dish, grounding every meal in handmade artistry. The beer list is sharp, cocktails unfussy but expertly mixed (the espresso martini is a sleeper hit), and there’s an automatic service charge—a sign of respect for staff in a city that too often overlooks them. This is a gathering place for neighbors after museum strolls, families looking for honest fare, or food lovers chasing something just left of ordinary. There’s no pretense here—just old-school hospitality wrapped in new Philly energy. If you come once, chances are you'll be back.