Hanging on at the Hangar Inn
Briana Slaton serves blackened chicken salad and a brew at Hangar Inn, a South Bay institution for more than half a century. Photo 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…
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