Mustaches—traditionally the preserve of Polish cavalry officers, Indian patriarchs, 20th century dictators and swarthy pubescent boys. Myanmar, by and large, is a clean-shaven nation, and, with the exception of the Muslim population, even a thin moustache or wispy goatee is considered fairly daring.
In fact, the mustache has a strong local legacy—classic illustrations of Burmese soldiers often show their strong moustaches. The British colonists, too, brought their top game, perhaps the most famous being Orwell’s top lip tea-strainer. Indeed, legendary Burmese General Maha Bandula is generally portrayed with a mustache. Either way, when a new bar mysteriously named and themed around the mustache came to Yangon, we knew it needed investigation.*
The bar is tucked a little way down a side street close to Junction Square. The inside is spacious but dimly lit, and decorated with a dizzying array of moustache related photographs, drawings and sculptures—a seriously impressive commitment to the mustache aesthetic that also extends to the service staff, as well as the owner, Maung Chaw, who was inspired to open the bar by an Englishman he met while working as a bartender in Japan. We also enjoyed the mariachi music, which set the tone perfectly and at a reasonable volume.
The prices at Mustache Bar are seriously good. A Bawdar beer costs 1,500 kyats, the same price as a plate of BBQ wings or some pork belly skewers, meaning you can get a beer with a plate of meat for under five dollars. In fact, the whole menu represents incredible value for money.
Things got off on a shaky note when our Caesar salad (3,500 kyats) arrived. This was less of a Caesar, and really just a green salad. However, on asking for Caesar sauce, it was transformed into, well, a Caesar salad. Possibly the famously clean shaven Julius Caesar offended the bar’s hirsute aesthetics? While the sandwich was let down by sweet and unpleasant bread, this is more a problem endemic to Myanmar than a particular fault of Mustache Bar. Overall, though, the food was more than good enough to keep you going as the booze flows.
Like all writers, your humble reviewer is a medium-functioning alcoholic, staggering from bar to bar under the thin veneer of being a “critic.” So it was that I began to drink away my powerful spiritual thirst. Keen to enable my alcoholism, Maung Chaw presented me with a free beer for my scruffy facial hair, which he was generous enough to call a mustache (mustache = one free beer). As you can see by my untucked t-shirt, soulless and dissociated eyes and bizzare hand gesture, the booze had begun to take effect.
A little tipsy, I felt confident ordering the signature “Mustache Army” cocktail, at 8,000 kyats. It tasted good, and I asked the waiter what was in it, only to be told that the ingredients were secret. I took another sip, and began physically sweating. My muscles felt larger, bulging against my skin. After another sip, the room began to spin, and by the time a third of the glass was empty, thick black hairs had begun to erupt from my upper lip.
As waves of drunken euphoria began to wash over my body and a moustache sprouted from my face, I staggered outside to find the owner and the secret I had just imbibed. The owner informed me that the flagship cocktail was made with 90 percent alcohol Japanese vodka, a fact that he had to repeat several times as I staggered back and forth in front of him, incoherently screaming about international paedophile cabals, Operation Northwoods and MK-Ultra.
Eventually, as the mustache erupted from my face and I began repeatedly chanting that Epstein could not have killed himself I was hoisted from the premises by a 1950s strongman wearing a singlet and riding a unicycle and deposited in a nearby bin. Highly recommended.
* I wondered if it might have been a nod to the Moustache brothers, a screwball comedy trio from Mandalay that ended up spending six years in a forced labour camp after an ill-advised satirical performance at Aung San Su Kyi’s house in 1996. In August 2013, one of the three troupe members, Par Par Lat died from kidney disease, likely caused by the lead paint used in the water tank in prison. Lu Maw and Lu Zaw continue to perform this day. Long live the Mustache brothers.
All Myanmar Mix reviews are done independently and impartially.
Address: Near Han Thar Waddy Yun Long Golf Club, Kamayut township
Contact: 09 893 999309
Open: 3pm-1am, every day
