In recent years, New Hope, Pennsylvania, has been grappling with a new reality: Their secret’s out. The picturesque town has always been a draw—good luck parking on a Saturday—but the vibe has also always skewed bohemian. Its oddity and enchantment shops, punky vintage stores, biker-friendly pubs and quaint bed-and-breakfasts have long appealed to artists, musicians, witches, Harley-Davidson enthusiasts, old hippies and young creatives. Perhaps the town was always primed to be discovered by a slicker set—after all, it’s a mere 90-minute drive from Manhattan. But it would have been hard to predict the current wave of interest from luxury travelers and frequent subjects of Deuxmoi. Today, multimillion-dollar condos are springing up, as are $600-per-night hotels. The New York Times dubbed New Hope a rival to the Hamptons at the start of 2025, noting celebrity settlers like the Hadids and Bradley Cooper alongside visitors like Justin Bieber and Leonardo DiCaprio.
In the midst of a changing New Hope, though, a longtime heart of the community still beats strong. You can’t miss it: John & Peter’s bar is painted royal blue with red and yellow trim. When the weather’s nice, you’ll see the crowd on the side patio—regulars hunker down at stools near the street, and weekend visitors can’t seem to resist the friendly conversation or the aroma of “the best burgers in New Hope.” Personally, it was the craft beer options—a rarer find in 2008—that first drew me to John & Peter’s. That, the eclectic live music roster and the way that the staff treats first-time visitors like cherished regulars has kept me coming back.
John Larsen founded the business as a coffee shop with live music in 1972—no booze, no drums. In 1974, his first wife’s brother, Peter Price, came on board; a liquor license and drum tolerance followed. The owners’ genuine interest in nurturing talent made the bar a sought-after destination for musicians. Standing in front of the low stage in the bar’s back room, a musty, creaky place, feels like you’ve been transported to the best basement party ever circa 1975; it has hosted George Thorogood, Ween, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Tiny Tim, Norah Jones and Arlo Guthrie.
“The space has this raw, unfiltered energy,” says David Fehnel, co-owner of Thirteen Vintage, a 20-year-old shop down the block from John & Peter’s. “Whether you’re there for a show, a drink or just to catch up with locals, it feels like home.” Framed photographs of famed musicians who have played the bar hang alongside those of staff and regulars past and present like captured family memories in a parents’ basement. During the day, it’s easy to accidentally spend hours on the patio, where no one ever seems to be on their phones. Seasoned locals chat with tourists, and at least once, a man with a cockatoo perched on his shoulder; nearly everyone drinks lagers and IPAs. As bands take the stage, the space fills and the mood becomes electric.
In 2018, Larsen and Price passed the torch to Chris Williams (a musician who had played at the bar), Mike Wieners (a regular turned bartender) and Kevin Rauch (a chef and bar manager at another local establishment). The John & Peter’s community, who had been worried about the fate of their treasured third place, were relieved to see the reins passed to three of their own.
“It was a promise we made John and Peter,” Wieners says. “As long as there was air in our lungs, we would preserve their legacy.” The only noticeable changes they’ve made are improvements to both the food and beer programs. “The microwave was one of their favorite cooking instruments,” jokes Wieners about Larsen and Price. Rauch has expanded the bar’s number of taps both inside and on the patio, frequently visiting Pennsylvania breweries to stay up to date. Alongside macro staples and more nationally known craft options like Sierra Nevada, he pours local crafts from breweries like Vault Brewing Company and Neshaminy Creek Brewing.
Booking manager Lauren Williams works seven days a week to uphold John & Peter’s music reputation, valuing both brand-new and well-established artists equally. The sheer breadth of genres you might catch on any given night has helped continuously attract new customers. Mike DiAlto, who hosts the bar’s open mic and comedy nights, recalls “an Appalachian string band all about the devil” playing at John & Peters, with an ’80s dance party the next night.
As for the new visitors New Hope has come to expect, the John & Peter’s crew is happy to invite them in. For one thing, says Wieners, continuing to grow the bar’s audience is just good for survival. But for another, the owners and staff know it would go against that welcoming ethos of New Hope and the bar to gatekeep the special place they’ve nurtured. “When I started, it was … your artists, your blue-collar workers,” says Nathan Leventhal, a staff member for 34 years. “Then you also had your yuppies and people coming in from out of town, and it was the strong gay population, and a wider mix of people that this town was a safe space for.” Newer generations might be pouring in, but the result—diversity—is something that’s been a part of the bar’s DNA since its start. Alongside longtime regulars, John & Peter’s will continue building its community—the bar becomes a new favorite for everyone from tourists to established musicians.
“One of my favorite reactions is to see [an internationally touring act] walk in the back door, look around, and say, ‘Oh, God, why are we playing a basement?’” says DiAlto. “And then by the end of the show, they’re hugging our staff … and saying, ‘[We’re] playing this place every time we’re on the East Coast.’”
