It’s not often that you reminisce about a fun night out at a bar and remember anything you ate. Usually, you’re thinking about a text from someone whiskey gave your number to, or the fact that you rapped for no good reason. Meetinghouse may look like a regular corner bar in Olde Richmond where people drink Guinness and dissect their weeks over crispy fries. Because it is. But the difference between this neighborhood bar and the 1000 others in Philly is that Meetinghouse serves food we’d cross town to eat, even with no intention of drinking. The straightforward pub food tastes surprisingly thought-out for a place serving (great) Long Island Iced Teas on tap. Sandwiches, like the thick-cut turkey club and roast beef on a sopping kasier roll, are slowly climbing the Philly Sandwich Top 25 Countdown. A stack of baby gem is less of a salad and more of a feat of engineering. And the vanilla ice cream drowned in creme de menthe goes down like a mound of peppermint milk. Meetinghouse’s classics work because they’re not trying to reinvent the wheel. So while the sandwiches and fries might not be innovative, they’ll be exactly what you want at 9pm on a Thursday or 2pm on a Sunday. The drinks are stripped down with plenty of personal touches, too. In addition to Guinness, the bar pretty much only serves three beers (all of which they brew in partnership with Tonewood Brewing in New Jersey). Every week, the staff cover the label of a bottle of wine with blue tape and call it mystery wine—check their Instagram the following week to find out what you drank. Everything on the short cocktail menu is classic and served on draft, like negronis and old fashioneds. Whatever you order, you’ll want to linger until further notice, maybe in the front area talking to a bartender named after Jessica Simpson or in the candlelit back dining room next to blue tiles with symbols that look like a secret alien language. Or, if it’s warm out, head outside to the side yard with a big group. Meetinghouse has all of the dependable comforts of a neighborhood bar. You won't spend $50 just by blinking, and you can catch up with friends while maybe making some new ones. Leaving simply means pausing a conversation only to pick it back up again next week. It’s just that, at Meetinghouse, the food is better than what's coming out of the kitchen at any other place selling $5 beer.