Entree NWA: Tanglewood Branch Beer Co.

FAYETTEVILLE — The Tanglewood Branch Beer Co., is new to Fayetteville but few places feel so of Fayetteville.

I walked in on a recent Wednesday into a wave of bluegrass. Musicians had gathered in a loose circle, each one with a string instrument in hand, giving and taking in a jam session, every note vibrating with kinship. Nine men and women, some older and some younger, undulating to what music they made in Tanglewood on a soft May night. 

It felt like a soundtrack to life here. Warm and meandering and comfortable. It was music that connects you to the place. It connected me, and I am not from Fayetteville. I don’t claim to be of Fayetteville. I don’t even like bluegrass.

These musicians weren’t part of a featured show. They were just there, an expression of the idea that places like taverns are meant for gathering and communion. On Tuesdays, there is a more organized musical showcase, which amounts to much the same thing: locals showing up to play. If you bike or walk to Tanglewood during happy hour (3-7 p.m.), you get a beer at half price.

If you come to happy hour on a Wednesday, you will be treated to the bacon and beer event. You buy beer, they give you bacon. Thick, local bacon. It comes in a chalice. And although it opened without its own home brew, you can now buy beer conceived and born right there at Tanglewood. Some would call that a brewpub. In Fayetteville, it should be called home-birth beer.

All of this is to say that Tanglewood is a place rooted in this feel-good, buy-local, communal-minded hippie spaceship afloat in the Ozarks. Its location in south Fayetteville throws in a measure of street cred. Good old boys are just as much in the mix – think Rogers Rec before it was half the bar it used to be – as well as an assortment of misfits and geeks. On this night, one group was playing the Lord of the Rings edition of Trivial Pursuit.

The proprietor is J.T. Wampler, a former photojournalist for the local paper, which means he knows the community. He made a career documenting it. Admittedly, I am biased. I am a journalist myself, and I happen to think that journalists do a lot of things right. But I’m pleased to report – objectively, of course – that Wampler got Tanglewood very right indeed.

The tavern is a box carved out of what used to be a gas station and then an El Salvadoran restaurant and who knows what else. The floors are cracked, the walls are mostly yellow, decorated with photos from Wampler’s journalism days, a painted animal skull, with horns spreading like Michael Jordan’s wingspan; some woodcarvings and the like. Wampler has all the essentials: a pool table, a dartboard (with still functioning sticks and darts) and a jukebox. But it doesn’t feel like a dive. It has style, one that is complemented by affordable prices on everything, a very nice menu of sandwiches, some crackerjack crackers, and the best curated beer menu in town.

If this place were any closer to Dickson Street, it would be a hipster vacuum that would suck clean Smoke & Barrel and Kingfish.

I came with a group of five folks. The sandwiches were cheap (no more than $8.50 for a whole; around $4.50 for half). They were served Panini style, flat and hot and with your choice of dressing. They also come with pickle and chips.

Options include the Reuben, the BLT, the Club, roast beef and the grilled cheese. Many Fayettevillians might enjoy the vegetarian option, which includes a veggie Reuben, a veggie burger and a hummus melt, which is served with your choice of cheese, black olives, marinated portabella mushrooms and sweet Italian peppers. You can also keep it real by ordering the Chili Hogg, which is grilled bologna with chili and cheddar and jalapeno; or the Frito Pie. There are a few salads – house, chicken, and hummus, and just one dessert. But what a dessert it is: a chocolate croissant. For $1, you can add bacon. Wampler knows this town.

My entourage ordered a wide array of food: the Reuben, the veggie Reuben, the grilled cheese, and the BLT. All were served promptly and with fascinating chips that seemed to me like saltines coated with butter, dill, cayenne and soaked in inspiration.

I’m not a sauerkraut guy, despite my German-American upbringing, but it has been at least 20 years since I put the stuff in my mouth, and with some lubrication from Tanglewood’s very fresh and citrusy, home-birthed IPA beer, I was feeling like I was ready to give my heritage a second shot. So I had the Reuben. I am very glad I did. This particular sandwich was a good beginner Reuben, light on the sauerkraut and heavy on some nice corned beef and Russian dressing. I ordered a half, and on the waitress’s recommendation, I also ordered a half club sandwich. The club was also very good, served with spicy mustard.

My dinner companions expressed similar satisfaction with their sandwiches. Around the table, I heard the following comments:

• Emily, on the veggie Reuben: “I think there’s cinnamon in the sauce. It’s delicious. And Shiitake mushrooms! That is cinnamon, right?
• Eddie, on the meaty Reuben: “Really good. I taste the cinnamon too.”
• Brady, on the BLT: “The temp is lukewarm, but it’s good. I love these crackers.” (Author’s note: I tried to explain they were “chips,” to no avail.)
• Jason on the grilled cheese: “A lot of people would say it’s not enough cheese, but I think it’s great. I like the cheese-to-bread ratio.”

The Tanglewood is more concerned with quality than quantity. The sandwiches are not huge, but they are satisfying. The beer menu has the same feel. You will not find your favorite lager from the Latvian provinces here. But you will find a carefully selected list of good regional, national and international options.

From Kansas are the Tallgrass brews (I recommend the one bravely labeled Buffalo Sweat. It’s a stout that will get you snorting). There are also some Avery beers from Colorado (Avery produces Ellie’s Brown Ale, which is one of the finest beers anywhere) and Lilja’s beers from Wisconsin. There are Hirter beers from Austria, and Nostradamus and Brasserie Des Rocs Grand Cru from Belgium. Best of all, these very good beers are very cheap. Even the grandest and most alcoholic beers from Belgium can be yours for just $6.50.

So carefully has this menu been chosen that Tanglewood serves only one beer that is not a craft brew or foreign. Miller High Life. In a can. Why that was chosen, I do not know. But that night, the Tanglewood’s home-birth IPA was so popular that they were only selling it in half pints for $2.50 “to make it last,” according to the waitress. And they ran out anyway. The place was full. The hippies and the fantasy nerds and the good old boys had filled out the chairs, the leather sofa, the bar stools. People were at the pool table, at the dartboard. It all felt right. At the end of the evening, I got it. I ordered the High Life, and that is what I got.