Testimonials

“Dear Joe, My grandfather, an FBI agent was relocated to Long Beach in the mid 1940’s. Joe Jost’s quickly became his favorite place. My mother tells stories of my grandfather bringing her there as a young girl and says that at the time she couldn’t believe that her father would bring her to such a “rough place.” I have been going to Joe Jost’s since before I can remember, but I can remember taking gulps out of my grandfather’s schooner of Eastside when my age could be counted on the fingers of one hand. I grew up going there on Saturdays after water skiing with my grandfather, uncle, and brother at Golden Shores and the Stadium. As a youngster I used to order hot dogs instead of Specials as my grandfather’s face would strain with disapproval. I remember staring at the big patches of peeling paint on the ceiling and wondering what kind of anti-gravity time warp held them up there and kept them from falling. I’m in my late 30’s now, and my grandfather passed away years ago. Joe Jost’s is where I go when I miss him. I feel him there. (I figure that if he went to heaven, that’s where he’d be.) When I’m having a bad day I go there to cheer up. It doesn’t matter who I sit next to at the bar, it’s always a real Long Beacher that I feel an affinity with. Whenever my firm gets a new manager from out of town, I take them to Joe Jost’s to show them the pearl of Long Beach. They usually want to get to know all of us in the office by taking us out to lunch, one on one, at our favorite restaurants. My coworkers generally pick the fancy expensive restaurants on Pine Avenue to impress the new manager with their good taste. They are always shocked at the modest bill from lunch with me at Joe’s which amounts to less than their tip on their other lunches! And I think they are honored to be amongst the real unpretentious people of Long Beach. The icing on the cake of the whole experience is when I show my guests how to make a cow out of an egg, pretzels and a pepper. And with the appropriate placement of one more pretzel I turn the cow into a bull. Thanks for the great times and fond memories. I’ve taken my son to Joe’s and hope to bring my grandchildren there as well for their first beer.”

ANOTHER FAN

“My first visit to Joe’s was in 1978. I was introduced to my first pickled egg. At the time I thought it was the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten. Twenty two years later and 300 miles away I miss them almost everyday. In my group of friends we even have a tradition when our sons became/become 21. We bring them to Joe’s for a schooner, special, and a pickled egg. The only thing I miss about the LA Area is sitting on a Sunday afternoon sitting at the bar, watching the Raider game, with a schooner half eaten special, fresh roasted peanuts and the greatest pickled eggs I have ever had. Thanks for the memories. Hope to be there soon.”

Perry Richardson

“I have been going to Joe’s ever since I was 2 years old. Even though I am only twelve, the times that I have been there have been one of the top moments of my life, ordering a couple specials, a 7-up, and a few pickled eggs (witch are the best on the planet), and playing at least 2 hours of pool. I recently got one of those Joe Jost sketches and made a Joe Jost basket with a shirt, pickled eggs, pretzels, and peanuts for his fiftieth birthday. He was overwhelmingly happy. We go there at least 2 times a month and swing by before we go to a Dodger game. I am, without doubt, going to take my kids there, even if we live in Timbuktu! Thanks for so many great memories with my dad. SillyBily5@aol.com P.S. Great web-site!”

Andrew Mrvos

“First stopped in ’68, a Marine just back from the Nam. Grew up in Long Beach and knew all about the place from older buddies who hung out there a lot. Had a beer, a pickled egg, and a sandwich. Went up to UCLA for a few years, then came back to Long Beach, lived in the Shore, and dated many fine women, only one of whom understood what Joe Jost’s was really about. That was 1975. She’s still my wife. Hope to stop by the next time I’m in town.”

John Tsitrian

“Dear Joe Jost’s: You don’t know me, but I’d like to thank you for offering a place to just sit down and have a beer. Where playing your next pool game was all there was to worry about. A place where you can enjoy the latest jokes with good friends, yet have the solitude that you need. A place to hide from the troubles of the world and responsibilities of home, until someone calls and says dinner is ready. A place where you can show your daughter the rules of the pool table and the taste of her first pickled egg. A place where you can brag and show off your trophy- for triumphing snooker with a broken arm. A place that provided the “best” sweatshirts and hats. A place that was all that one man needed…. Thank you. Daughter of Richard Calhoun 1/15/45-1/20/01″

Amy Calhoun

“I was born and raised in Long Beach and just after I graduated from Millikan High School in 1961, my friends and I would regularly come to Joe Jost’s for a 15 cent hot dog and several games of pool. I have very fond memories of that place. I now live in Madison, Wisconsin (I notice several testimonials from Wisconsin). I am so happy the place is still there, still prospering. Nearly everything in Long Beach is different from how it was when I was a kid, but Joe’s is still there, a link with my youth that I truly appreciate.”

John Woods

“I played football at Rutgers for three seasons…the last game I played was against Cal in ’99. By the way, Rutgers is in New Jersey (everybody asks ’cause no one knows). Anyway, I tore my ACL while blocking their fullback on a fourth and 1 possesion in the 3rd quarter. As I was being helped off the field, one of the Cal Offensive Lineman walked by me and shot, “Go to Joe Josts and you’ll feel better!”, I said, “What?!”, and he repeated the same thing again, “Go to Joe Josts (Baby) and you’ll feel better!”. During my rehab, I became fixated on what that lineman blurted…it became my “if you build it they will come” moment, and like Kevin Costner didn’t know what to build (at first), I didn’t know what Joe Josts was, which ate at me b/c I love to feel better, who doesn’t? Well, after doing some detective work on the internet, my sidecar found Joe Josts…and last January me and a few buddies made our way to Long Beach. We threw back quite a few Schooner’s…they’re definitely what cold SHOULD taste like. But I have to give love to the special…it’s a natural w/the Schooner…the two should be married and have kids…unless they did and named them Pickled Eggs. Anyway, the next day after Joe Josts I felt like crap…but, that Cal lineman was right…Joe Josts still made me feel better, and my liver made another friend for life. While this ex-football player doesn’t out to the left coast much, I have promised my liver and stomach that it will always feel better whenever my butt gets to Cali. Joe Josts is a classic tavern…it’s like stepping back in time, and it will definitely make you feel better. YES, we lost to 21-7…and NO, Cal didn’t get that first down.”

THOMAS HARRIS

“As an old Douglas Aircraft employee I had heard about this place where they wrap up a hot dog in paper and throw it at you and it’s the best hot dog you ever had, not to mention the coldest beer in town. Finally got to go to Joe’s in 1984. I found a place where, although everybody may not know your name, you’re as at home as you’ll ever be anywhere. I have business associates from St. Louis and Washington, D.C., who bought the hot dogs, the rye bread, the cheese and the proper mustard in an attempt to recreate the Special at home. Never worked. It just isn’t the same as being there. To this day, I bring all my best friends to Joe’s and they all feel the same way: There is no experience quite like sitting at Joe’s with a Special and a schooner of Pabst (or Guinness) among kindred spirits, young and old, who just enjoy being there with each other. Happy 80th Anniversary! May Joe Jost’s live forever!”

Parker Bailey

“It’s a quaint little neighborhood bar. We go there to enjoy the sausage sandwiches, pickled eggs, pretzels and to shoot pool. Joe Jost’s opened in 1924 on Anaheim in Long Beach and has many loyal customers. You can’t beat it. We’re never disappointed with the food, service or ambience. It’s not pretentious like so many sports bars these days. It’s just a hole in the wall. Nobody bothers anybody. You go there to get away from the world and enjoy the company of friends. You can shoot pool and play shuffleboard in the back. They have three televisions, a counter, and a few booths. Nothing fancy. It’s a throwback to another era, pre-World War II. I’ve been going there for more than 30 years and it hasn’t changed one bit. I like that. Things change so fast and so often these days. Joe Jost’s is an island unto itself. The “Specials” are to die for. Sausage on rye with Swiss cheese and a pickle in the middle. Add a little mustard and you’re in business. Beer on tap. Peanuts too. A place to cherish. The guys behind the bar work their butts off but seem to enjoy what they do. It has a family feel to it. Good energy. It’s not easy to find though. You can drive right by it and mistake it for a hardware store or something. When we go there we can feel a sense of history. The roaring 20’s was in its heyday when that establishment opened for business. If those walls could speak. The stories they could tell. We went there today and hung out for a few hours. Great way to spend an afternoon. Can’t wait to go back. Joe Jost’s is my kind of place. Down to earth. Blue collar. An oasis in this desert we call life. You haven’t been to Long Beach until you’ve been to Joe Jost’s. It gets under your skin and into your heart. Go check it out. You’ll be surprised. Doesn’t look like much. It’s heaven.”

Tony Rodriguez

“I have loved Joe’s since the day I first set foot in the friendly confines in the mid 1980’s. The ice cold schooners, the sandwiches, the pretzels, and hot peppers that would remove the epidermis from your lips. Tasty pickled eggs too, although an egg did lodge in my lower intestine one time and gave me a case of gas that wouldn’t quit. Yet, it was good Joe’s gas! In addition, I’ve always admired the chocolate colored deer head on the wall – tactfully decorated for Christmas with a threadbare string of lights casually tossed onto his antlers. You just can’t get more festive than that! Perhaps my proudest day was when my photo (along with my old friend and Long Beach native Eddie Shirron) earned a spot on the Wall of Fame. That’s us at Lambeau Field in Green Bay. Joe Josts forever!”

Greg Durham