Cassidy's Bar & Grill

If you haven't had the Patty Melt at Cassidy's...... YOU HAVE NOT LIVED! Do yourself a favor..... go to Cassidys... try the Patty Melt....put lots of their special PepperPlant Sauce on it... and live your best Life. Trust Me.... I'm John Johnson.

My wife and I ordered a patty melt and a BLT. FANTASTIC! They were both perfectly cooked and delicious! We both agreed they were the best we've ever had! The BLT was LOADED with crisp delicious bacon, and her patty melt with their secret sauce was great! To top it off, we washed them down with a couple ice cold.beers served by a great bartender named Mark. Great service, and a super nice guy. I highly recommend!

Everything I ever wanted in a neighborhood bar, the beverages are amazing, the staff is so much fun, and it's a perfect place to catch up with friends old and new. The location can't be beat, just a short walk to anywhere that you might want to be in the Newport Beach area which is much cheaper than an Uber or a DUI This is probably the closest thing you'll find to a dive bar in this neighborhood, enjoy!

Local bar. Lots of regulars. Strong drinks with bad ass bartenders who never let your drink go empty! Billiards, tv's and music.

Used to frequent this place 25 years ago and glad to see it still up and running. Never really ate there, just went for stiff drinks and chill dive bar vibes. Dennis Rodman used to go there all the time and buy the crowd a round of shots....good times!

This is a great dive bar in Newport. Our bartender was friendly and incredible. She was very attentive and made amazing drink. Ordered their cheese burger and wow . Sooo good

Five years, my husband and 6 of his dedicated friends have done this yacht show pilgrimage, and every single time they hit Newport Beach we ask: where would you eat. Not the polished nonsense, just real food. They all get this look–like they’re letting us in on classified intel–and say skip Lido, skip Fashion Island, go to Cassidy’s. We laughed; the joint looks like the garage next to where I get my tires rotated. Wood walls, sticky floors, beer signs flickering. But Brian puts down a burger on that open flame and suddenly everyone’s quiet. It’s not hype: it’s seared geometry, it’s salt and beef speaking French without trying, it’s the kind of center that flirts with you. Our friends–the ones whose belts sit under their nipples–suddenly slumped into chairs like humans again. He didn’t just feed us, he defused tension with a spatula. Michelin stars could orbit this thing. We’ll be back. Brian, thank you.