Ely’s Restaurant & Bar: The Pineapple Ely That Became a Signature

The Cocktail That Found Its Place

Richard Shapley’s origin story for the Pineapple Ely is refreshingly unromantic. He tasted a similar drink while visiting his brother in Arizona. It was hot, it was bright, and it felt like a clean break from the day. He liked that it was not a sugar bomb. He liked that it was pleasant and easy. He liked that it felt social.

He brought the idea home and kept it simple. “Tito’s and pineapple, and that's it," he says. No syrups. No extra sweetness. No garnish-heavy performance.

That simplicity matches how he thinks about the rest of Ely’s. Do not overcomplicate the dish. Do not overcomplicate the drink. Start with high-quality ingredients and let them speak for themselves.

It did not take long for guests to notice. The moment it showed up in a beautiful decanter, people asked about it. They saw it. They wanted to try it. The drink became a magnet before it became a calling card.

Simple Is Unforgiving

The Pineapple Ely is easy to describe. It is harder to execute consistently.

When a drink has only two real ingredients, there is nowhere to hide. Shapley is blunt about that. You can cover up bad fruit or a sloppy infusion with sugar. Ely’s refuses to do that, which means every batch begins with a basic test. Taste the pineapple. If it is not sweet enough, wait. If it never sweetens up, do not use it.

He explains it the way any cook would. A fruit can look perfect and still be green inside. You have to bite it. You have to know. That is the only way to keep something this minimal from turning into something disappointing.

Time is the other ingredient. Ely’s infuses its pineapple for around ten days at minimum, often longer, because the natural sugars need time to do their work. They taste along the way. And if it is not ready, they do not put it out, even if the bar is asking for it. It requires patience, planning, and staying ahead of the rush. Shapley laughs about the moments of panic when the restaurant has a run on them and the next batch is not there yet. A shortage is stressful. A rushed batch is worse.

There is also more labor in it than guests assume. The behind-the-scenes detail is not a secret trick. It is simply care. Ely’s cuts the pineapple cleanly, then stamps it into uniform circles using a baking ring so the jar looks as good as it tastes. Presentation matters even when the concept is simple.

Then there is the best line of all. Shapley tells it plainly. What you are drinking today was prepared almost two weeks ago.

The Common Misconception

There is one myth that shows up so often it has become a running joke.

Guests see the pineapple soaking in the vodka and assume the fruit will be a treat. A boozy bite. A little dessert-like reward at the end of the glass. Shapley has let people try it because they insist. Then reality lands immediately.

“It feels like you’re chewing on vodka,” he says. One bite is usually enough.

It is a funny detail, but it also reinforces the point of the cocktail. The pineapple is not there to be eaten. It is there to give up its character to the drink. The exchange is one-way. The vodka becomes softer and more inviting. The fruit becomes something else entirely.

Who Orders It and When

If you ask Shapley who orders the Pineapple Ely, he will tell you the truth. The ladies order it most. The men love it too. And if somebody wants it in a pint glass instead of a rounded cocktail glass, Ely’s will do that without turning it into a thing. People want to feel comfortable ordering what they want. Ely’s does not punish that.

The drink is also seasonal in spirit, even if it is on the menu year-round. Shapley describes it as a spring and summer staple, the kind of refreshing break that makes sense when the heat settles in and you want something light.

It is not a steak pairing. It is a pre-meal cocktail. It is best when the sunlight is still out and you are easing into the evening. Likewise, it pairs naturally with something lighter, maybe a salad, perhaps an appetizer, or possibly nothing at all. Occasionally a great social drink stands on its own.

If you are wondering whether Ely’s is an infusion bar, Shapley clears that up too. They have tinkered. Mango can work. Peppers work aggressively. Strawberries were a miss. They were not attractive in the jar and did not bring enough flavor to justify the effort. Pineapple remains the go-to because it performs and it looks right.

The Hidden Gem That Grew on Word of Mouth

Ely’s has been open since 2008. For a long time, Shapley says, they were upstairs by themselves. The location was not a marketing strategy. It was what he could afford. Over time, what looked like a limitation became part of the charm.

Guests describe it as a “well-known hidden gem.” Shapley laughs at that phrase, but he accepts it. The business has spread more by word of mouth than by any advertising they have done.

If he could script what guests say when they recommend Ely’s, it would not be about exclusivity. It would be about quality and warmth. A neat little neighborhood steakhouse upstairs. Incredibly friendly people. Phenomenal food.

That last part matters. He believes a special occasion should feel relaxed. That is the personality he wants Ely’s to have.

The Invitation

Countless steakhouses can pour you a serious bourbon. A lot can point you to a great glass of wine. Ely’s can do both. But in Shapley’s words, the Pineapple Ely sits in a sea of bourbon and wine as its own thing.

It is a soft, natural cocktail that does not announce itself as strong until you realize you have finished it faster than you planned. It is a treat most people will not bother to make at home because it requires patience. It demands being ahead of the curve. It requires waiting for the pineapple to be ready and refusing to rush it when it is not.

Go upstairs. Order the drink that looks too simple to be special. Let it prove, quietly, why it became a signature.