Walk into McSorley's Old Ale House and the first thing you'll notice isn't the smell of century-old wood or the dust-coated wishbones hanging from the gas lamps. It's the floor. There is sawdust everywhere. It’s there to soak up the spills, the mud, and the general grime of East Village life, just as it has been since 1854. If you’re looking for a craft cocktail with a sprig of rosemary or a nitrogen-infused espresso martini, turn around. You are in the wrong place.
Honestly, McSorley's doesn't care about your preferences. They serve two things: light ale and dark ale. That’s it. You don’t even get to pick a size. You order, and the bartender slams down two small mugs. It’s a tradition born of efficiency and a stubborn refusal to change for anyone. This isn't just a bar; it’s a living museum where the artifacts aren't behind glass.
The "Men Only" Legacy and the Lawsuit That Changed Everything
For over a century, McSorley’s Old Ale House was a fortress of masculinity. The motto was "Good Ale, Raw Onions, and No Ladies." It sounds ancient, like something out of a Dickens novel, but this rule stood firm until 1970. It took a massive legal battle led by Faith Seidenberg and Karen DeCrow, two activists from the National Organization for Women (NOW), to break the door down. They sued, and a district court judge eventually ruled that as a public establishment, McSorley's couldn't discriminate based on gender.
Even after the ruling, the transition wasn't exactly warm. The owner at the time, Danny Kirwan, famously didn't even have a women's restroom ready. It took years for the vibe to shift from a "boys' club" to the inclusive, albeit chaotic, landmark it is today. You'll still see the "No Ladies" sign hanging around, but it’s a relic now, a reminder of a different New York.
The pub has only changed hands three times in its entire history. The McSorleys ran it, then the Kirwans, and now the Maher family. Matty Maher, who started as a waiter in the 60s, eventually bought the place. That kind of continuity is unheard of in Manhattan, where restaurants vanish every time a lease expires. At McSorley’s, the staff stays for decades. They know the history because they lived it.
What’s Actually Hanging on the Walls?
Don't touch the wishbones. Seriously.
Above the bar, there’s a dusty rail covered in turkey wishbones. They were placed there by young men heading off to World War I. The idea was simple: you’d come back from the front, have a pint, and take your wishbone down. The ones that remain? Those belong to the boys who never made it home. It’s a heavy piece of history sitting right above your drink. The health department once tried to make them clean the dust off, but the regulars and the owners fought back. That dust stays. It’s "sacred dust."
The Lincoln Connection
Abraham Lincoln supposedly drank here. While some historians debate the exact date, the legend persists that after his Cooper Union speech in 1860, Honest Abe wandered over for a pint. There is a "Wanted" poster for John Wilkes Booth on the wall that looks like it hasn't been moved since 1865.
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Then there’s the chair. Behind the bar, there’s a wooden chair that was allegedly used by Lincoln himself. It’s bolted high up so no one can sit in it. You’ll also find Houdini’s handcuffs attached to the bar rail. The story goes that the escape artist snapped them on and couldn't get them off, or maybe he just left them as a tip. Either way, the place is a hoarding ground for New York City lore.
Understanding the McSorley’s Ale System
You walk up to the bar. You don't ask for a menu.
- You hold up a finger or say a number.
- The bartender brings you two mugs per "order."
- If you say "two light," you get four mugs.
- If you say "one of each," you get one light and one dark.
The ale is brewed specifically for the house. It’s not complex. The light is crisp, slightly bready, and goes down fast. The dark has a bit more caramel and malt, but it’s still surprisingly light-bodied. It’s designed for volume drinking. You aren't here to sip and analyze the hops; you’re here to drink like it’s 1890.
The food is just as basic. You can get a plate of cheese and crackers, which famously comes with raw onions and incredibly hot mustard. It’s a rite of passage. If you can eat a slice of raw onion topped with that mustard without tearing up, you’re officially a regular. They also serve a solid burger and liver and onions, but the "cheese plate" is the true McSorley’s experience.
Why the Atmosphere Can Be Polarizing
McSorley's is loud. It’s cramped. On a Saturday afternoon, it’s packed with NYU students and tourists clutching guidebooks. If you want a quiet place to read a book, this isn't it. The bartenders are famously brisk. They aren't being mean; they’re just busy.
The seating is communal. You’ll be shoved into a heavy wooden table with six strangers. By the third round, those strangers are your best friends. That’s the magic of the place. It forces interaction in a city that usually prizes anonymity.
There are no TVs. No jukebox. No WiFi.
The soundtrack is just the roar of human conversation. It’s one of the few places left where people actually look at each other instead of their phones. The lighting is dim, provided by fixtures that look like they haven't been rewired since the invention of the lightbulb. It’s cozy in the winter when the potbelly stove is roaring, but it can get sweltering in the summer.
Practical Tips for Your First Visit
If you’re planning to head to 15 East 7th Street, keep a few things in mind. First, it’s cash only. There is an ATM, but the fees are exactly what you’d expect from a tourist-heavy spot.
- Go on a Tuesday afternoon. If you want to actually see the artifacts and talk to the bartender, avoid the weekend rush.
- The "Two Mug" Rule. Don't be surprised when they put two drinks in front of you. That’s just how it works.
- Watch the Mustard. I’m serious. It will clear your sinuses and possibly your soul.
- Respect the History. Don't try to move the frames or touch the wishbones.
McSorley’s Old Ale House survived the Civil War, the Great Depression, Prohibition (they supposedly sold "near beer" that was actually just beer), and the COVID-19 pandemic. It’s a testament to the idea that if you do one thing well—or in this case, two things—you don't need to follow trends.
Actionable Next Steps for the New York Traveler
To get the most out of a visit to this East Village staple, start your afternoon at the nearby Cooper Union to see where Lincoln gave his famous speech, then walk the two blocks to McSorley's. Aim to arrive by 1:00 PM on a weekday to snag a table by the window. Order "one of each," get the cheese plate, and leave your phone in your pocket. Look at the walls. Read the old newspaper clippings. You’re sitting in the same spot where Peter Cooper, John Lennon, and Woody Guthrie once sat. Take it in.
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Once you finish your rounds, head over to the nearby Strand Bookstore or take a walk through Washington Square Park. You’ve just experienced one of the few remaining "authentic" slices of old Manhattan. Just remember to hit the ATM before you get in line; those ale mugs add up faster than you think.