Maggie's Wonderful Saloon
The New York Times
November 20, 2005
I USUALLY don't like to make blanket comparisons of cozy neighborhoods to Frank Capra's ''It's a Wonderful Life'' -- especially around the holidays. And my guess is that those who have never visited downtown Jersey City would conjure images that are far from a typical idyllic village, let alone anything remotely similar to George Bailey's Bedford Falls. But, perhaps especially because Jersey City doesn't normally inspire such sentiments, a place like the Hamilton Park Ale House seems that much more magical.
Just two blocks from the 16 lanes of Holland Tunnel traffic, just behind the row of gas stations and warehouses, is a small Jersey City neighborhood called Hamilton Park, named for a two-block-long park that hides a white gazebo at its center.
Century-old trees line streets of brownstones and brick row houses. Holding down the corner of Jersey Avenue and 10th Street is the Hamilton Park Ale House. Inside is a long room with an oak bar, wood floors and about a dozen tables. There is a jukebox where you can play Springsteen, Sinatra or Patsy Cline. A mix of off-duty police officers, hipsters, Port Authority workers and Jersey City old-timers bellies up to the bar. Artists, stockbrokers and parents with kids sit at the tables.
At the back of the room you'll often see the bar's owner, Maggie Veca, sitting at a table with her two post-college children, William and Erin, and her friend Gene Dluzynski, a quiet, handsome man with short silver hair. They nod and smile when you come in, and if there are no tables available, they'll offer you theirs and move to the bar. Maggie's warm presence suffuses the place.
Eighteen years ago, Maggie started working at the Ale House as a waitress; then, when the owner put it up for sale in 1997, she bought it. Maggie, a Jersey City native of Italian and Irish descent, lives just a few blocks away.
On the pub's walls are paintings by local artists. An oil painting of a Jersey City railroad by Peter Delman hangs behind Maggie's table. The bar can get smoky (the older patrons refuse to give up their tobacco), but the burgers are juicy and you can always get a rare tuna or strip steak.
''This is a place to sit, talk and eat with good friends,'' Maggie says. Why is she always there? ''The food's good, and it's easy,'' Maggie says, laughing.
And clearly her many customers agree. There is rarely a night when you won't spot a friend or a neighbor at the bar.
But perhaps the most wonderful thing about the Hamilton Park Ale House is that a week or so before Christmas, Maggie opens her doors for her annual Christmas party.
And this really is straight out of ''It's a Wonderful Life.'' You can hear music and voices from half a block away. At the doorway, patrons kick snow off their boots and are greeted by Maggie or one of her waitresses handing out Santa Claus hats, reindeer antlers and books of Christmas carols. In the front window, a brass quintet plays while everyone sings along, a glass of beer or wine in hand.
You squeeze your way past the packed bar to the back, where Maggie has set up a buffet of lasagna, lemon-baked sole, salads and brownies. You may have to stand for a while, but sooner or later someone -- a friend or a complete stranger -- will make room for you at a table.
It may be a cold Christmas in Jersey City, but you're warm and toasty in Maggie's wonderful pub.