The 1950s vinyl booths are patched with duct tape left over from renovations past. The teal Formica tabletops—pocked with decades of cigarette burns and scars from wayward cutlery—bear the glasses of neighborhood geezers and beer-swigging young rowdies alike at this 70-year-old establishment. Widely known among the sodden set as a prime locale for a fortifying hangover breakfast (patrons can try their hands at spinning the “meal wheel” for a shot at food on the house) and for filling late-night eats, this two-room log cabin is the home of cheap Jack-and-cokes, stiff vodka tonics and $1 PBR on Tuesdays. Decked out with neon signs and tarnished gold ship plates, Holman’s beckons both day and night regulars—and in warm weather there’s even a spacious patio for less-smoky alfresco evenings.
