Maltese American Benevolent Soc

Malta, officially known as the Republic of Malta, is a Southern European country consisting of an archipelago situated in the center of the Mediterranean, 93 km south of Sicily and 288 km east of Tunisia, with the Strait of Gibraltar 1,826 km to the west and Alexandria 1,510 km to the east. They also have great bars.
To say that the Maltese-​Americans are benevolent is an understatement. Their motto may as well be «with water towards none, with alcohol for all.» I think this explains the whiskey bottle between the stars on their national flag. Three different times during my two hours there a round was bought for the house.
Apparently, the Maltese came to the United States to build their embassy, but missed Massachusetts Avenue by about 500 miles. Instead they settled in Corktown, a few blocks from the sacred ground of Navin Field. Cameras and a buzzer system keep out the riff-​raff, though I somehow evaded this, and makes sure non members don’t enter more than five times as is the policy. I wonder if going outside to smoke or buy peaches counts as a visit upon reentry.
Inside are friendly, knowledgeable locals who chat about everything from baseball, history, and, believe it or not, Malta. The drinks are reasonably priced, though the beer selection is poor. They do have the prototype of a futuristic beer pouring machine, which facilitates pouring beer from a keg into a glass, but this apparently is still in the testing phase as of this writing.

They say that if you see someone on Michigan Avenue with yellow fingers, they must have just come from the Maltese-​American Benevolent Society. This can be explained by the bowls of Uncle Ray’s Cheese Flavored Puffers, which the bartender here generously refills and places in front of each customer.
Not to be confused with the Bentese-​American Malevolent Society, the Benevolent Society is a really swell, friendly bar patronized by good-​humored and responsibly buzzed middle-​aged types, most claiming some Maltese heritage and everyone seeming to know everyone else. You have to ring the buzzer to get in, but the sign on the front door notes that you can get in up to five times before applying for membership. Our host was certainly welcoming, and provided us some background on Malta. Drinks are cheap, good and coherent conversation is easily found, and the national treat pastizzi (a pastry filled with ricotta or ground beef & sweet peas) is served up on weekends. I ordered a Bud Light, which was the only tap they had. «Oh, that tap’s just for show.» It turns out that they just stock the standard range of common beers and liquors, but this seems consistent with the bar’s low-​key, unpretentious vibe.
I hoped to win a free drink for my friend 44 Cent by announcing that it was his birthday, but we were told that in Malta, the tradition is for the birthday boy to buy a round for the house. 44 Cent smiling obliged, even though they were probably kidding. For all of you with modest means who’ve dreamed of one day buying a round for the house, the reasonable prices here make it a good gateway to the habit. Our favor was soon returned by another gentleman at the end of the bar.
Despite the exchanging of rounds, things never got out of control, and all in all it was a nice cultural exchange. Not only did I learn a bit about Maltese culture and heritage, but I enjoyed reading the complimentary copy of the monthly Michigan Bingo Bugle (featuring Dear Aunt Bingo!) — at least until I started slurring my vision, at which time I felt it appropriate to kick myself out of this civil establishment.