I think I was about five or six years old when I first noticed the fake crashed airplane on the roof of the Hangar Inn. I wanted to go see it more closely, but my parents resisted; this was not, they insisted, a place that I would like. They might have been wrong. I would not develop a taste for beer for another ten years, but the Hangar Inn did serve burgers and fries that would have pleased my palate, and I suppose they would have come up with something for me to drink that wouldn’t have gotten me or them in trouble.
Fast forward to now, and the Hangar Inn is one of the least changed businesses in the South Bay. The airplane tail is still mounted on the roof, the now unfashionable wooden paneling is festooned with a mix of old photos and new posters, and the floors and booths are worn with age. The place has been open since 1957 and shows every one of its sixty years.
The menu is mostly what you’d expect from a dive bar, burgers, bar snacks, and sandwiches, but there’s something odd about it. Nobody told the people here that dive bar food is generally pretty awful and made with prepackaged ingredients. This having escaped their notice, they make their own onion rings, potato chips, and sauces, and show unexpected care in what they’re cooking.
Take a seat at a rickety barstool or a booth that has been repaired with duct tape, grab a dog-eared menu, and order a beer while you figure out what you’re going to eat. You’re not drinking wine or cocktails, they don’t serve either. They have some soft drinks, and I have actually consumed an iced tea at lunch, but beer feels right in this environment.
You won’t really need a starter because the portions are substantial, but you’ll want one because hot wings and onion rings go so well with beer. The rings are made with a batter that is crisp on the outside and soft within, and they’re just a little salty and a good vehicle for the ranch dressing. As for the wings, there are eight to an order, they’re deep fried before being drenched in liquid fire, and they come with carrot sticks, celery, and ranch dressing. Take my advice and wear a cheap shirt if you order these because you’ll probably drip some guaranteed-to-stain spicy buffalo sauce on them. Heck, put on a cheap shirt anyway so you’ll fit in with the rest of the clientele. Wear something with a beer logo or a sports team name to fit in best. Sports are playing silently on the TV’s that are all over the place, not that anybody seems to be paying a lot of attention to them.
It can take a while for orders to come up if the place is busy because the kitchen is tiny, but that gives you more time to finish your first beer and order your second. I went with the Hop Saint lager and a Firestone-Walker 805, and they have a few other good ones along with the inevitable PBR and other commercial dreck.
You’ll want that beer if you get anything that includes their housemade green sauce, like the carnitas burrito I had. The carnitas itself was finely shredded and on the mild side, and if you get the burrito dry you can savor the porkiness alongside a little lettuce, onion, and mild salsa. A buck extra gets it wet with that green chile sauce, which is one of the most assertive I’ve had in some time. It’s flavorful rather than just hot, and any Mexican restaurant in the area could be proud of it.
My wife tried one bite of the burrito, took a big swig of her ale, and decided to focus on her pulled pork sandwich. That had a very large portion of tender meat simmered in a sauce that had a little sweetness along with some cinnamon or nutmeg, or maybe both. Whatever was in there, it added some savory elements and was appreciated. The sandwich came with housemade coleslaw and potato chips, and like the burrito it was a pretty substantial meal.
We came back for breakfast a few days later and were somewhat surprised to see one of the South Bay’s prominent restaurateurs enjoying a plate of street tacos and a beer at the bar. He explained that after being up at 4 a.m. to hit the farmer’s markets he likes a simple, honest meal, and that’s what he gets here. Encouraged by this, I ordered a breakfast sandwich while my wife ordered pancakes, eggs, and ham. We both ordered coffee, which was freshly made but on the weak side. You’re at the Hangar Inn, so the thing to order is what Alaskans call a GMB — a Good Morning Beer.
The pancake breakfast was just what it was supposed to be, the flapjacks light and fluffy alongside fried ham and two eggs. The menu hadn’t mentioned that potatoes were also included, so it was more than we expected. The breakfast sandwich consists of a scrambled egg patty with lettuce, tomato, cheese, and your choice of ham, bacon, or sausage, or all three. I got it with all three, on rye toast, with fried potatoes on the side, and it was a tasty but food coma-inducing experience. The house potatoes here have both green bell peppers and onion but in moderation and properly cooked so the bell pepper doesn’t take over. Some of the green sauce was served on the side in case I wanted to start my morning with a bang, and I used it sparingly.
We enjoyed our breakfast amid the happy buzz of conversation among regulars. It’s a locals’ hangout, with customers and servers bantering among each other, and at one point a group at the bar started a boisterous and unexpectedly tuneful sing-along with the jukebox. We didn’t know that kind of thing could happen any more in Manhattan Beach, but we approved.
The Hangar Inn is exactly what it’s supposed to be, a convivial place for simple food made well. If that’s what you want, you probably need to stop in. They’ve been doing this for sixty years, and they have the formula down very well.
The Hangar Inn is at 1001 N. Aviation in Manhattan Beach. Open daily at 7 a.m., close midnight Su-Thu, 2 a.m. Fr-Sa. Parking lot, wheelchair access OK but lot not level. Menu at hangarinn.com, phone 310-379-0836. ER
