Today's bar bit is not a recipe, not a special drink, but rather a love note to a Denver original, the ancient and never-to-be-topped My Brother's Bar.

This outpost in the South Platte basin existed long before the lofts and cleanliness, back when its northside neighborhood was the rotten industrial heart of an unrefurbished city.

Neal Cassady hung out there when the joint was called Paul's Place, back when he was stealing cars and making Allen Ginsberg swoon. There's even a note from him on the wall near the bathroom, begging forgiveness for an unpaid bar tab. We've talked to regulars so regular that they bought property to be near the place - and made a pretty penny so doing. We've sat at the bar while subfreezing temperatures murdered car batteries outside, listened to classical music and watched old men play backgammon on a Tuesday midnight. We've eaten a hundred Johnny Burgers, a thousand miniature corn dogs, sipped uncountable gin-and-tonics, each seemingly more sublime than the last.

So here's to you, beau ideal of Mile High saloons. We here at Club Hop HQ raise a pint of (imaginary) Guinness in your honor. We'll be seeing you very soon.

My Brother's Bar is at 2376 15th St. Do yourself a favor and drop by.