This story was originally published in The Stranger’s July 2026 print issue.
Upon perching myself at Good Grief’s bar, my first thought is: This is what people mean by “positive masculinity.”
Someone online called it bro-ey, but that’s incorrect. It’s masculine, sure, but the vibe stays friendly and accessible. The former Greater Good space is plastered with co-owner Matthew Gomez’s goofy personality: Killer Mike’s on the aux, tall wooden booths line the back wall, and the liquor shelf’s decorated with hip-hop vinyl sleeves, cassettes, and a boom box. There’s a textile sculpture (er, giant stuffed animal?) of an allosaurus wearing Run-DMC chains. TVs, ostensibly for sports, loom overhead, and the menu features bespoke hot dogs and wings. It’s chilled-out as fuck in here.
Gomez—a skilled cocktailsmith who was an original co-owner of Dark Room—has put together a fantastic, if wacky, cocktail list. Super crafty, high-minded, and unpretentiously weird. I spot Gomez’s magnum opus, the Shame on a Negroni from his Wu-Tang Clan–themed cocktail pop-up, and the Oaxacan Sock ’Em Robots, an alum of Dark Room’s debut menu. There’s a Vesper made with boquerones-infused vodka. (That’s sardines!) The butch-as-hell-sounding Marcini special with Brennivín, Malört, and peperoncini brine is downright pleasant, a little spiky. The caraway in the Brennivín works beautifully with the pickly, barely sweet brine.
I wasn’t immediately sold by the WTF, Chocolate?! description, though.
It has some ingredients that don’t normally blow wind up my skirt. Two aperitifs: pretty pink Cocchi Rosa—the spritzy summertime hottie—and Suze, a tingly-tangly Alpine amaro that’s employed as an après-ski warmup device. Plus Rayu mezcal from Southern Mexico that’s infused with sesame, then orange bitters. I’m also not convinced that these ingredients play well together. And what’s up with the name? Gomez, please explain yourself.
“It was an accident!” he says. “I was just messing around for a customer with stuff I already had.” What he produced is a hybrid of a Negroni and a white Negroni with chocolate tasting notes. “I was like ‘WTF, this tastes like chocolate!’”
I said I’d be the judge of that.
What this man told me is true. It’s like a s’more roasted over a campfire, thanks to that smoky sesame-infused mezcal. The sesame’s definitely doing some of the tastes-like-chocolate labor here, and probably some mystery ingredients within the Cocchi Rosa too—vanilla, ginger, and cinchona bark, perhaps? But it really does taste chocolatey. You smell it before it blooms on your tongue. Wizardry.
Gomez says that, eight months in, Good Grief is doing fine. This checks out, as I watch the emptyish room fill up easily on a weeknight—a group of beardy dudes, a few date nights. Meanwhile, my drinking companion enthusiastically destroys a plate of wings before I can get a taste, and we eyeball the elaborate glizzies for next time. Always a good sign when, on your first visit to a newish bar, you’re planning for next time.
“We definitely opened up in an incredibly tough time [in Seattle],” Gomez admits. “But if we can survive this era, I think we are gonna be here for a long time.”
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