On a Monday, after renewing the bar’s liquor license, fielding an early beer delivery, and regaling bartender/manager Zan Naz with all manner of stories — some of which are old standards — a regular arrives at four on the dot.
“Hey, what’s happenin’?” Richie asks.
“I’m all right, how are you?”
“I'm broker than the 10 Commandments! How’re you doing, buddy?”
Le Mardi Gras turns 70 this year, and the Shadyside haunt, as led by Costanzo, was always meant to feel vibrant and convivial, a throwback to smoky cocktail lounges of the 1950s.
“We’re the place that time forgot,” Costanzo tells Pittsburgh City Paper.
Originally located on Bellefonte St. — in a building razed to make way for redevelopment in the early 2000s — the bar has been in its current location at 731 Copeland St. since 2002. Costanzo’s attempted to keep most of the original accouterments.
For those unfamiliar, the bar does seem transported from another era. A chandelier hangs over green antique booths, flanking the vintage bar crowned by a fully functional antique cash register at its center. Richie says the register can only be maintained by one man on the entire East Coast, “Cash Register Bob.”
The narrow lounge is adorned with even more heirlooms, including a 1960s cigarette machine, an original Ms. Pac-Man tabletop arcade game from 1982, and, arguably the pièce de résistance, a wall-mounted NSM Cosmic Burst Jukebox that plays actual B-sides (which the bar also “has a guy” to maintain, Costanzo says; no TouchTunes here). Cementing the bar’s New Orleans feel are vivid, colorful murals from 1954, painted by longtime Art Institute of Pittsburgh instructor Tom Kouros. The portraits are of real Pittsburghers who frequented the old bar.
Le Mardi Gras is also known for its annual Fat Tuesday party; “strong pours,” Naz says; hand-squeezed juices; immovable '70s drink prices; and being one of few remaining smoking bars in Allegheny County.
In its 70-year run, it’s difficult to catalog all the titles that the bar has claimed. Among them are the city’s oldest, finest, and “last” cocktail lounge, and “world’s greatest bartender,” an honor unofficially bestowed on Richie’s late father, Joe Costanzo, with whom he worked until his death in 1993. A portrait of “Papa Joe'' lighting up a cigar hangs near the bar in a gold gilded frame.
Anthony Bourdain visited in 2017 and dubbed Le Mardi Gras “the bar everyone wants in their neighborhood.” City Paper has recognized it as one of the city’s best jukebox bars, the best bar to drink alone, and a favorite “hidden” bar.
The bar’s 70th anniversary also isn’t the first that it’s celebrated; in 2004, for its 50th, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette columnist Reg Henry penned a tribute. Journalists of the 1970s and ’80s were known to “choose Le Mardi Gras as their after-work oasis,” Naz writes in a forthcoming “Le Mardi Gras Obscura” web history. In 2014, Pittsburgh City Council recognized the bar’s 60th anniversary, declaring June 14 of that year “Le Mardi Gras Day.”
But despite the bar’s lengthy history and list of accolades, Naz says, the upcoming anniversary — with a party tentatively planned for May — will be special.
That’s because “this one will be more about just celebrating Richie,” Naz says. Costanzo, he believes, should be honored for his stewardship of a “stalwart” neighborhood bar.
“That consistent experience that he brings … The quality of service, the quality of the drinks will surprise you,” Naz explains. “The prices will astound you. These are all things I think he set up and he’s just been doing constantly.”
Costanzo says he “didn't choose [the bar business]. It chose me.” In February 1975, he reluctantly helped his father — who’d bought Le Mardi Gras in 1960 — work a Friday night shift, declaring it would be a one-night-only favor.
But then, “I liked it. I liked the people,” Costanzo says. “I liked the action. I liked the activity. I liked it. In those days, it was electric.”
He was 18 and remembers Rolls Royces, Bentleys, and Ferraris lining the street, which was uncommon at the time. Shadyside was a different community, with ice cream shops, high-end beauty salons, and a glassmaker. Back then, with laxer laws, Le Mardi Gras also famously operated after hours, serving as late into the morning as 7 a.m. to friends, VIPs, and those in the know.
“You never knew who you were gonna wait on,” Costanzo says.
Of the long list of celebrities who have stopped by Le Mardi Gras — supposedly many political campaigns have been launched there and it was where Sen. John Heinz celebrated his inauguration — Costanzo’s had some choice encounters. He remembers his father coming home one morning in the early '70s, waking him for school at Central Catholic, and telling him a strange man sat on top of the bar’s booths — rocker Alice Cooper.
Two Evil Eyes, a 1990 horror film directed by George Romero and Dario Argento, shot scenes at the bar, also bringing stars Harvey Keitel and Adreinne Barbeau. Ted Danson, Drew Barrymore, and Julian Casablancas of the Strokes have also meandered in.
Once, Costanzo didn’t recognize George Clooney and almost bounced Channing Tatum, who showed up in 2012 (presumably while filming Foxcatcher). As is his wont, Costanzo was working the door and checking IDs.
“And somebody said to me, ‘Rich, that’s Magic Mike!’” Costanzo says. “I had a guy behind the bar named Dave, and he did magic. And I said, ‘Yeah, and that's Magic Dave. This guy doesn't have ID.’”
Matching descriptions of his father, Costanzo is an animated storyteller at home in his bar. In the span of about 90 minutes, he reels off anecdotes about: losing out on a billion-dollar fortune when he didn’t believe a bar patron’s story about treasure hunting at Rehoboth Beach; his dad preempting the invention of jumper cables while strip mining for coal; and one-time regular Richard Florida writing a bestselling book based on casual conversations at Le Mardi Gras (Bill Peduto was also in the mix).
When COVID-19 hit in 2020, Le Mardi Gras shut down for 19 months. In his mid-60s, Costanzo had still been working the door, and was bereft, unable to interact with people at the bar after 49 years.
“It was the most stressed I’ve ever seen you be,” Naz tells Costanzo. “But [when you] came back … the place was just electric … the magic of Richie Costanzo was still in this building.”
Since then, the bar has hit its stride again, but as it turns 70, the staff is looking toward the future and modernizing where possible.
For example, Naz has upgraded their cigar sales, securing the product in temperature-controlled boxes that communicate with his smartphone.
“Ha! Talks to [your] phone!” Costanzo bursts out laughing. He has a flip phone.
At the same time, “we're not dummies here,” Naz says. “We've talked about the fact that, in the next 10 years, there's probably not going to be any smoking in Pennsylvania. And we're preparing for that. We're working on making slight evolutions to give people a reason to keep coming in.”
They’ve launched a new cocktail menu with some less boozy options, a revamped Hurricane, and mocktails. In addition to still hand-squeezing citrus juices, a “staple” of Le Mardi Gras, Naz is now personally making all the bar’s syrups in-house.
“I came in here and said, ‘Zan, if the ATF ever comes in here, and sees all those powders ... It looks like a chemistry lab down here!’” Costanzo exclaims.
Friday Jeopardy! watch parties, vintage Trivial Pursuit, game nights, and other events are meant to draw a wider crowd.
