Sprawled by the river in the shadow of Nationals Park, Bardo feels post-apocalyptic. Silver fermentation tanks rise from the dirt, dogs lope around rusted shipping containers, and a wire fence encircles it all. It rarely feels crowded (because it's huge), and almost always is relaxed with bearded types hobnobbing over beers. The suds tend toward brawny stouts and India Pale Ales.
The setting is exceptional, though the beers can be hit or miss. Food trucks often swing by. If there’s an afternoon Nats game, Bardo opens two hours prior.
