Rumpus Room

I live in a region with a lot of restaurants per capita, the vast majority of which are mediocre or outright bad. They have remained so, unfortunately, because the people who live around here don’t know any better, or simply don’t care that their dining options are so abysmal.
That said, the Rumpus Room is a dive bar that serves food.
This is by no means a novel concept, and the bar (no pun intended) certainly isn’t set high; however, a lot of bars around where I live manage to screw up simple things. Even worse, there are a few bars that market themselves as «gastropubs,» which, in addition to being inaccurate, has the unfortunate side effect of duping some unsuspecting and unknowing diners into believing that they’ve stumbled upon a real gastropub.
And now, a brief interlude…
Merriam-​Webster defines a gastropub as «a pub, bar, or tavern that offers meals of high quality,» which is why it’s risible that Ye Olde Durty Bird and Bar 145 think of themselves as gastropubs. This is not necessarily to say that either Ye Olde Durty Bird or Bar 145 serve poor-​quality food (they don’t) or that they’re being intentionally dishonest by associating themselves with the term «gastropub» (they’re not). What this is saying, however, is that people in this area wouldn’t know a gastropub if one crept up behind them and smacked them across the face.
Moving on, the Rumpus Room gets it right. No glamour, glitz, or puffery at 2212 Consaul Street, just good food. Nothing exceptional, mind you; then again, that’s perfectly acceptable as long as you’re not telling people something to the contrary.
The burgers are excellent, and are served with house-​made potato chips. On my last visit, I enjoyed a cup of chicken paprikash soup, likely a nod to the surrounding historically Hungarian neighborhood, Birmingham. The only other individual in the bar at the time of my last visit, a man I adjudged to be the proprietor, told me that this coming Friday would feature breaded pork chops, sweet and sour cabbage, and mashed potatoes, which I’m sure will be on par with everything else I’ve had here. The putative owner also offered that the meatloaf, the recipe for which was his mother’s, has pleased everyone who’s ordered it. Clearly, I need to order it the next time I’m there.
I’ve only been to the Rumpus Room for lunch, so I can’t speak to the alcohol offered; however, I’ve seen what’s there. Draft beer isn’t available, but the requisite brands of American lager (e.g., Budweiser, Bud Light) are. Likely owing both to the clientele and the time warp in which the Rumpus Room exists, widely available brands of liquor sit next to bottles of Black Velvet, Queen Anne, Seagram’s VO, and, although I don’t remember seeing it, I can’t imagine there isn’t a bottle of Cutty Sark somewhere.
Contrary to the Rumpus Room’s radio advert on 100.7 The Zone, I wouldn’t bring my family here, and, were I single, I wouldn’t bring a date here. But I would return – and have – for the friendly atmosphere and the satisfying meals.

Working night shift sucks, but the owner appreciates the working man an opens up just for us !