Big Charlie's Saloon will become Sweets, a neighborhood bar
Chef Drew DiTomo and vintage shop owner Tim Jacobsen have an agreement of sale for the longtime South Philly bar that was a haven for Kansas City Chiefs fans.
Big Charlie’s Saloon, the South Philadelphia corner bar known nationally for its unlikely devotion to the Kansas City Chiefs, is getting a new playbook.
Drew DiTomo, the chef and a partner at the Kensington gastropub Meetinghouse, and Tim Jacobsen, owner of the Old City vintage shop Stickball, say they have an agreement to buy the bar at 11th and McKean Streets, which closed last December following the sudden death of its longtime owner, Paul Staico, at age 59.
DiTomo and Jacobsen say they plan to turn it into Sweets, a neighborhood bar. DiTomo said that he would remain at Meetinghouse and that his business partners there have no stake whatsoever in Sweets.
Sweets will have no Chiefs memorabilia — or sports theme of any kind, for that matter. DiTomo said they’re thinking low-key. “I’m not a big concept guy,” he said. “I’m going to stay true to what that neighborhood deserves out of a neighborhood bar, and that’s about it.” The partners started an Instagram account to float photos that inspire them.
DiTomo said he and Jacobsen are working through due diligence for the purchase of the building, which had been listed at $1.1 million and includes apartments upstairs. A liquor license transfer is also pending.
They are aiming for a winter opening, though that timing is tentative. “If we could capture the holiday season, that would be beyond fantastic,” DiTomo said. “But we’re both realists. We’ll see how it goes.”
Big Charlie’s, a tiny, two-room corner tavern, had become one of Philadelphia’s great sports curiosities: a fiercely loyal Chiefs bar deep in Eagles country.
Its allegiance dated to Super Bowl IV in January 1970, when Staico’s father, Charlie, bet on Kansas City to beat the Minnesota Vikings and promised his young son a bicycle if the Chiefs won. They did, Paul got the bike, and a lifelong allegiance began.
After taking over the bar following his father’s death in 1983, Staico bought a satellite dish in 1986 so he and friends could watch Chiefs games that rarely appeared on Philadelphia television. Over the decades, the bar became known as “Arrowhead East,” its wood-paneled rooms covered with signed helmets, pennants, bobbleheads, street signs, and other Chiefs memorabilia.
NFL Films featured the bar, Chiefs players and coaches visited, and on important game days crowds spilled outside. The bar’s prominence grew along with the Chiefs’ success, creating complications when Kansas City faced the Eagles in the Super Bowls of 2023 and 2025.
But Big Charlie’s was also a neighborhood bar, and that is the aspect of the property that DiTomo intends to preserve — rather than its sports identity. He and Jacobsen both live in South Philadelphia.
“I’ve always admired neighborhood bars,” he said. “I grew up in neighborhood bars, so I want it to be true to form — just the classics, done well.”
That philosophy will extend to the drinks. DiTomo said the bar will pour Meetinghouse beer, along with a straightforward selection of beer, wine, and cocktails built around classics.
Sweet’s food will be simple, he said, because of the tiny kitchen.
DiTomo, a Culinary Institute of America graduate who rose to prominence a decade ago in the Marc Vetri organization at Amis, was a chef consultant on M. Night Shyamalan’s series Servant on Apple TV+ when Meetinghouse opened in 2023.
DiTomo and Jacobsen have been friends for about five years. DiTomo said Jacobsen had long been interested in doing a project together, but nothing had clicked until the Big Charlie’s building became available. “This building spoke to him, so he jumped on it,” DiTomo said.
Stickball, Jacobsen’s shop, specializes in vintage clothing, art, and objects. GQ included it on its 2024 list of 30 notable vintage menswear stores in the United States.
DiTomo said the Sweets name came from a running list he has kept over the years. He associates the word with several of his uncles, who used it as a term of affection. “I always liked the feeling of it,” he said. “It sounds nice, and it’s timeless. It feels good for the neighborhood, too.”
