by: Scott Kearnan

It wasn’t long ago that I was one of the many college students populating the bar stools and dance floors of our fair city. Since my alma mater is the eponymous institution of the B line’s last stop, I was always slightly isolated from good bars out in the ghost town of Chestnut Hill; Anything worthwhile was a fairly lengthy T ride (or overpriced cab fare) away. Still, there was one beloved nearby spot where, at the risk of trademark infringement on Boston’s better-known sitcom landmark, everybody knows your name. On many a night where a short jaunt was preferable to a long haul, my posse and I would saddle up – ATM card in one holster, cell phone in the other – and ride off into the Sunset.

Located at 130 Brighton Ave in Allston (a fairly convenient distance for drunkards at both ends of the Green Line), Sunset was one of my favorite hang outs. That “college days nostalgist” in me was eager to return for this review, and to relive my Glory Days. Sure, it may only have been about a year ago, but I’m referring more to the Springsteen in the handsomely stocked jukebox, anyway. Surprisingly, the place hadn’t worn thin; though I highly recommend Sunset to any local college kid, you don’t have to be escaping a 2 x 4 dorm room to enjoy this place.

For starters, there’s the beer. Lots and lots of beer. 99 bottles of beer on the wall? Chump change. Sunset has 112 on tap, and several times that amount by the bottle. The beer menu is 12 pages long, and gets treated with the same reverence as the fine wine list at a highbrow restaurant downtown. There’s a little something for everyone on your dysfunctional family outing: The carb-counting frosh girl, the microbrew snob, the Sunday football fan… everyone has a selection. And as for your crazy lush of an uncle, Sunset will engrave a barstool in his honor if he imbibes enough in their “frequent flyer”-esque customer program (if you don’t want to go that far, you might get a t-shirt out of the deal). Yes, you or a loved one can commemorate the very spot where you gained 30 pounds and lost a liver. Touching, isn’t it?

Another highlight of the Sunset experience is the fantastic bar menu. The Buenos Nachos are among the best I’ve had at any bar, heaped with chili, jalapenos, guacamole, and all the other goods that stick to your ribs and go so well with a big cold beer. I also consider myself somewhat of a buffalo wings connoisseur (don’t laugh! It’s a science!), and this other barroom staple is similarly excellent. Sure, there are a variety of other sandwiches (and a Sunday Taco Brunch bar!) to tempt your drunken palate, but I would stick to the real tasty, guilty-pleasure, diet-crushing, beltline-popping snacks to get the real Sunset experience.

That’s what Sunset is really all about, if you ask me: The environment. It’s a truly great Boston bar in the classic sense, harking back to a pre-metrosexual era when one could unabashedly revel in neon signs (not “mood lighting”), friendly service (not “posture”), hot, delicious bar food and a whole lot of beer. Don’t get me wrong, I love the trendier digs as much as anyone, but there’s a soft spot in my heart for a bar where Steppenwolf and Madonna can live side by side in jukebox harmony. Yes, the patron-dominated music selection is as eclectic as the massive variety of beer, and as your vision blurs, so will the sound of “Magic Carpet Ride” into “Papa Don’t Preach.” Honestly, does it get any better?

Oh, sigh. Like the Ghost of Inebriation Past, I returned to this local haunt and found it just as good as I’d left it. If you’re looking for a stress-free saloon with all the big city fixin’s, you can’t get much better than this.

So go on now. Giddyup.