Low Key Coolest Bar in Coconut Grove Barracuda Celebrates 30 Years

On any given night, you'll find this scene under the pink awning on Fuller Street: pints of cold beer, belly-loud laughter, and an area full of people of all ages who look like they've known each other for years — even if they just met. For 30 years, Barracuda Taphouse & Grill has been Coconut Grove's great equalizer.

This spring, the neighborhood fixture marked three decades in business, a rare milestone in a city where bars come and go with the tide. It is an original, the last of the true honky-tonks in Coconut Grove.

New Times spoke with its founder, John El-Masry, and its new owner, Lee Kessler, to get a never-before-told look into its history and longevity in the heart of the Grove. 

From Crazy Flamingo to Barracuda

The story begins in 1994, when John El-Masry, who had been living in Coconut Grove, found himself craving something he couldn't get in Miami: a proper fish sandwich. He'd discovered it at the Crazy Flamingo on Marco Island, where he'd lived previously.

"It sounds crazy, but there's not a lot of great fish sandwiches here in Miami," El-Masry recalls. So, he reached out to Crazy Flamingo owner Tony Rainone, initially just wanting to pay a consultation fee to learn how to make that one sandwich. Rainone had bigger plans — he wanted El-Masry to bring the entire franchise to Miami.

El-Masry agreed, opening the Coconut Grove location as a Crazy Flamingo franchise. But the promised benefits never materialized. After about a year of paying franchise fees without receiving the discounted fish or buying power he'd been told about, El-Masry was ready to break away. A lawsuit between Crazy Flamingo and another restaurant called the Lazy Flamingo provided the perfect opportunity.

"All they did was hand me a cook recipe," El-Masry says of the franchise arrangement. When the franchisor suggested they could simply change the name to "Crazy Oyster" to avoid the lawsuit, El-Masry realized he could do his own thing entirely.

His brother Stephen suggested a new name: Barracuda Raw Bar and Grill. The pink color scheme stayed — a remnant from the Crazy Flamingo era that would become the bar's signature look. In 1995, the newly rebranded Barracuda made an immediate splash. At its first Taste of the Grove, El-Masry carved up a 180-pound tuna into Jamaican jerk fish sandwiches and won the event unanimously. "The rest is history," he says.

A Place That Has Felt Like Home Since the '90s

The bar quickly found its footing as an eclectic gathering spot. College kids, fishermen from the nearby bay, and Grove locals packed the small space nightly. El-Masry kept prices low and the quality high, creating what he describes as an affordable neighborhood hangout where people would read books during the day and shoot pool at night.

"Right from the get-go, it was kind of an eclectic crowd," El-Masry recalls. "We would get locals in the Grove, but we'd also get some of the fishermen down on the bay there. We tried to make it as affordable as possible and put out the best product that we could."

The walls are filled with maritime relics — salvaged life preservers, oars, vintage photos — all installed by El-Masry himself as he scoured antique shops and yard sales. "I would grab something and then get a screw gun and screw it into the wood," he says. "Just one thing at a time, and it just kind of piled up over the years." The furniture, built from old shrimp boat wood and rebar, came from a now-deceased local artist whose work is increasingly hard to find.

The bar's atmosphere was ideally suited to its tucked-away location on Fuller Street. "It's kind of hidden, but it's not, if you look at it from an aerial perspective, it's right there in the center," El-Masry explains. "It was just like a little hideaway that people could go to."

El-Masry went on to open the neighboring Mr. Moe's, but after bad investments stretched him too thin around 2007, he was forced to sell Barracuda in 2008. He still calls the bar "the one that got away." "You could operate that bar when it was completely packed with four people," he says. "I don't know many other places that can do that."

A New Owner, A New Chapter

After a brief period with another owner, Lee Kessler took over on March 14, 2012 – just days before St. Patrick's Day, providing what he described as an immediate baptism by fire. Kessler, a third-generation Miamian and longtime regular who had been going to the bar since its Crazy Flamingo days, stepped in at a time when the bar needed some direction.

"There was a bit of preservation for me, but it's also a tough line to walk," Kessler recalls. The bar had developed a loyal but insular group of daily regulars who were resistant to change. Kessler needed to slowly evolve the space while preserving its neighborhood character.

He caught a rising tide: Miami's craft beer scene was about to explode. Wynwood Brewing launched the same year Kessler took over, and Barracuda became a venue for brewery launches when many didn't even have taprooms yet. "We all kind of grew up together in the Miami craft beer scene," Kessler says.

Barracuda grew from 12 taps to 22, then eventually to 52 by 2015. This way, Kessler could keep affordable options while offering expensive, rare pours that drew craft beer seekers from as far as West Palm Beach. The name also changed to Barracuda Taphouse & Grill to emphasize its new focus on tap beer, but to locals, it's still just "'Cuda."

Pandemic Pivots and Pink Picnic Tables

On March 17, 2020, again, St. Patrick's Day, Kessler got word that indoor dining was about to shut down. While other bars kept serving green beer, he spent the day building a to-go window. And when the shutdowns came shortly after, Barracuda didn't miss a beat.

The community rallied hard. Kessler bought a small cooler with a four-stroke engine, dubbed the "Cuda Scooter," and started doing deliveries himself. However, the real game-changer came when Miami launched its restaurant recovery program, enabling establishments to convert parking spaces into outdoor dining areas. Kessler checked a box on the application that few others did, requesting Fuller Street itself. Despite attorneys and friends telling him it would never happen, the city granted the closure. "I've always felt before I even owned Barracuda, I felt like Fuller street should be our Española Way," Kessler says.

As the temporary closure was set to expire, the community mobilized. Joshua Abril from Fookem's Fabulous started a petition to keep Fuller pedestrian-friendly, which quickly gathered 3,000 signatures. Then, Commissioner Ken Russell backed the effort, and the temporary change became permanent.

Pink picnic tables now stretch across Fuller Street, forming a makeshift plaza where people hang out with their dogs, grab beers, and eat. Before Barracuda opens each morning, elementary school kids use the space for Cuda Club chess programs. Later, a local school brings 30 students for lunch as part of its program to get kids out into the real world, rather than eating in the same cafeteria every day.

Across the street, luxury condos rise where old shops used to be. Around the corner, a Michelin-starred restaurant books out weeks in advance. But Barracuda still serves inexpensive beers and conch fritters made from the same recipe since 1995.

Almost Nothing Has Changed Since 1995. Regulars Like it That Way.

Inside, Barracuda looks and feels like it hasn't changed much since 1995. The barstools are worn, and the regulars like them that way. Kessler's signature is required for anything on the walls — a rule he's made clear to his entire staff. When furniture breaks, he fixes it himself, sanding, sealing, and restoring pieces in his makeshift backyard workshop.

About 70 percent of the menu hasn't changed since opening day, according to Kessler: snapper and mahi sandwiches on garlic bread, wings made from the original recipe, conch fritters that Kessler refuses to let anyone modify ("If you can't do it, this isn't the place for you to work," he tells chefs who want to improvise), and potato skins he insisted on adding because he loves them. The 52 rotating taps feature everything from local craft breweries to hard-to-find imports, though you can still get a "Bud Heavy," if that's your thing.

Barracuda's crowd now includes young professionals, some of whom meet their future spouses at the bar. Kessler has attended three weddings of couples who met at Barracuda and installed brass plaques to mark where each couple first connected. His mom, who handles the bookkeeping, has also been invited to a few of the weddings.

Meanwhile, developers continue to make big offers for the space. They want the lease, not the bar. Kessler says no. "I love when someone comes back to the Grove that hasn't been here for a long time," he says. "They tell me, 'I turned this corner and I was so hesitant whether the pink awning would be there or not. And there it is, and I was so happy to see it.'"

Barracuda Taphouse & Grill. 3035 Fuller St., Coconut Grove; 305-918-9013; instagram.com/barracudagrove.