In the olden days, a “clinker” was slang for a piece of coal. They were so valuable that scavengers used to walk along railroad tracks to collect the ones that fell from freight trains and use them as currency to buy drinks at a pub.
When John Meade’s grandfather opened an Irish pub in downtown Orange in 1910, he called it the Clinker Club in deference to his humble upbringing. Today, a photo of that bygone watering hole hangs on the wall of Meade’s bar in downtown Maplewood called St. James’s Gate. It reminds him how far his family has come since arriving as immigrants at the turn of the last century.
In 1994, when Meade’s pub opened its doors to the public, only two establishments in the downtown strip served liquor. Now, five places offer wine and cocktails. The latest eatery to get a liquor license is Lorena’s across the street. For many, this is a sign of progress. But Meade worries about the cost of more competition.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s a hot dog stand,” said Meade, seated in the dining area where a cozy fire roils. “Every new place that opens takes a tiny piece of pie.”
Liquor licenses are a legacy of the post-Prohibition Era when state governments wanted to ease back into the sale of alcohol. In the past two decades, however, there has been a serious debate about reforming the system. Some restaurant owners want the state to offer more licenses and let others share in the industry’s cash cow.
However, some license holders, like Meade, believe that scarcity is what makes owning a license so valuable. New Jersey, which offers liquor licenses based on a municipality’s population, has some of the most stringent rules in the nation when it comes to regulating alcohol.
Earlier this year, Governor Phil Murphy signed a law that attempted to reach a compromise, allowing local governments to offer two more liquor licenses. It also lets neighboring townships swap licenses, although the logistics of this are still being fleshed out, and “pocket” licenses – ones that not are not being used – can no longer be saved for a rainy day.
The reforms are welcome news for Maplewood Mayor Dean Dafis, who has been one of the more vocal elected officials about the need for liquor license reform. The pandemic revealed to him that the ability for a restaurant to sell liquor serves as a safeguard in a notoriously fickle industry. Alcohol sales rose in 2020, the year the pandemic struck, according to the state Department of Treasury.
“I think Covid changed everything – you see this momentum because we’ve all experienced the loss of small business,” Dafis said. “Of course the restaurants with liquor licenses not only survived Covid, they flourished.”
In 2021, Lorena’s, which originally opened at 168 Maplewood Avenue, was one of those restaurants struggling through the pandemic. What saved them, Dafis said, was moving into the former location of The Cassidy a few doors down the street that came with a “place to place transfer,” That’s when an inactive license stays at the same premises but is sold to a new owner. And since then, Lorena’s has turned things around.
The success of a business means so much more than money in the pockets of Lorena’s chef Humberto Campos and those who work for him. An occupied storefront is the best billboard a township can have to attract other small businesses. “As mayors we also are laser focused on doing whatever we can to keep our tax burden low to our residents,” Dafis said. “And how do you do that? With commercial ratables.”
For Meade, the issue is a bit more complex. His liquor license – though he won’t disclose the price he bought it for in the 90s – is a golden egg, something he can cash in for his retirement or pass down to his two sons, who currently bartend at his pub. Those who want to reform the system have come up with ideas, like a state buyback program or a tax credit system to fairly compensate, but it is all so speculative for now – and there’s no telling if these alternatives will pay the same as the current market value for his license, Meade said.
“I understand the feeling of those guys,” said Meade about other restaurants owners wanting to sell booze. “The most valuable thing in a restaurant is the liquor license.”
Restaurateur Frank Cretella, who owns Village Hall South Orange, said he has never opened a restaurant without one. “It’s a difficult business,” he said. “We grow up in this industry with certain beliefs and one of them is to never open a restaurant without a liquor license.”
Cretella, principal of Landmark Hospitality, admits that not all restaurant owners are on equal footing. “I own a lot of the real estate where my restaurants are located, so I have a different perspective on it,” he said. “Other people let their lease expire and sell their liquor license for retirement.”
One of the restaurant owners who is in the market for a license is Jarrett Seltzer, owner of curbside-only Bagels by Jarrett in West Orange. Just picture a gastropub serving all the same menu items, from sliders and cheesesteaks to decadent Italian dishes. The current system is terrible for the industry because it tilts the table in favor of those who have a liquor license over restaurants with better quality and service, he said.
“There are times my wife and I choose a restaurant because she wants a cocktail,” Seltzer said. “And we’ll actually choose a place with worse food just because they have a bar – and that’s coming from a guy that’s obsessed with food.”
Seltzer believes the concept behind liquor licenses is “archaic” and the restaurant industry is poised for a revolution in the same way rideshare apps disrupted the taxi industry.
“I don’t understand why we just can’t let the market dictate what people want,” Seltzer said. “If someone opens a great bar, good for them — we shouldn’t be limited in what we can and can’t do.”
