Stepping in here is like jumping into your Delorian, firing up the flux capacitor, then traveling to the hip and groovilicious 1970s. Guess what? That makes this place amazing.
Walking through the hollowed threshold into the Lemon Tree is a rite of passage for local and traveler alike. From the neon red lights running through a rock formation that proudly displays the greatest and latest in schnapps to the musk of stale beer and  hookups missed, this is a dive bar to rule them all.
They even have a pool table. What else do you want? I'm also pretty sure I saw Johnny Walker Blue label or at least one of the colored labels (that is not intended to be racist as I believe all labels are created equal) proudly displayed at the top of the bar. That's right from schnapps to ultra-premium the Lemon Tree serves any and all.
A gem. That's the Lemon Tree in a word.
Lived in Alameda since 2008, and only yesterday night after the Dubs devoured the Melo Knicks, did I discover the greatest dive on The Island and possibly in all of the Bay.
80's music blasted, with a long bar catering to a most interesting cast of likely regulars. The stench of cigarette smoke lingered on one patron while his female accomplice made eyes at me. She was a probably a fox 20 years prior. Â An older gentleman in his 60's sat there grinning at me. I cheers'd to him with my $6.00 Â Makers Mark Manhattan and chose a seat in the corner with my Lakers fan shawty.
As I took in the surroundings, I couldn't get over how strong my cocktail was, or the absolutely perfect jukebox selections that a blonde woman kept cranking.
So Whatcha Want. Enjoy the Silence, Policy of Truth.
Raiders logos on the wall and behind the bar. A pool table in a seperate room with a smaller gentleman scowling as he conversed with his friend.
The bartender informing me that Saturday is kareoke night and answered all my inquiries on this one of a kind place.
I've done my homework, and this place is far more my speed with it's quirky charm, strong drinks, great prices, awesome tunes. and friendly clientele.
See you again soon, Lemon Tree.
A place for the locals. There is a good vibe in the place and the drinks are reasonably priced. If you've just stuffed yourself at Kamakura across the street, this is a great spot to give your wallet a breather and get all liquored up. A full bar and friendly bartenders make this a good spot to have a drink with your friends.
If they fixed the joint up just a bit...it would make a big difference.
Went to the Lemon Tree for Emily's birthday. There were about 10 of us. We were looking for a dingy place to have a good time. And the Lemon Tree came through. Best dive bar (that I've found yet) in Alameda, maybe even in the East Bay. Drinks are hard, some patrons toothless, and it's close to home. There also seems to be a pretty good karaoke night-thing going on. If you're looking for divey, it's one of the best I've seen.
Review Source:I had more fun here than I thought I would. This bar has been around the block a number of times at this point, and caters to an older clientele...
There is a pool table, a jukebox, and flat screens. The vending machine in the men's room sells plastic cock rings for 50 cents. Really, what more can you ask for???
If you're looking for younger talent, go elsewhere. If you're looking for cheap, stiff drinks, you've found the right place. Cheers!!!
I'm not a big drinker or into the bar scene, but I cannot get over how nice the Lemon Tree is. Â The people are so friendly! Â You're not going to get a fancy elderberry/vodka martini there, but you can get a decent beer and schnapps. Â Or just a soda. Â They play nice music: jazz, country, rock. Â Everybody is having a good time. Â I just went in there to work on my laptop while my dog was getting groomed down the street. Â I got to watch guys play pool, I was offered free chinese food, and I was treated very well. Â It's a comfortable clean place, with eclectic and funky decor. Â Smiles all around.
Review Source:Lemon tree is like a geriatric cheers. everyone seem to know everyone else. if you are unknownst to them, they are very willing to greet you as a new friend. the bar counter  is only a semi circle..
a poolroom and a few seats are scattered thruout.
flatscreens: many tuned to sports
pour:
-gin & tonic (3.75) nice thick glass, nice pour.
all day special: free schnapps with purchase of bottled beers (mostly u.s. guinness, sierra
on draught:
-draughts limited or none at all.
-3.5 stars for old times sake.
Oh Lemon Tree, Oh Lemon Tree,
You're a dirty whore but so good to me!
Oh Lemon Tree, Oh Lemon Tree,
Cheap stiff drinks are the end of me!
Julie pours them so strong and tall,
I walk out front and spin and fall!
Oh Lemon Tree, Oh Lemon Tree,
Bunch of old folks that get grumpy.
Oh Lemon Tree, Oh Lemon Tree,
I like you more with karaoke.
Oh Lemon Tree, Oh Lemon Tree,
Go out front for a quick smokey.
They bring in food on Monday nights,
People there are too old to fight.
Oh Lemon Tree, Oh Lemon Tree,
Pool table in the back to entertain me.
One word: Hilarious!
This place was like a time-warp back into the 80's. My date and I decided to check this place out because we were drawn to the mellow yellow sign. When we entered we knew immediately saw that is was in NO-WAY similar to the regular trendy lounges we normally frequent. They had karaoke which was performed mostly by the regulars. If people-watching is a pass-time for you, this is your place! Lol. Cheapish drinks and a heavy handed bartender named Lisa added up to a pretty good time!
It seems as if almost every bar I've seen reviewed on Yelp is referred to as a "dive", which is meant as some sort of ironic compliment. Â In most cases I've found these bars to be anything but dives, but if there was a town that has the market cornered on dive bars, then it's Alameda. Â The Lemon Tree isn't even the most divey dive bar in the neighborhood, if that tells you anything, but it does have more flat screen television sets above its bottom shelf than any other drinking establishment this side of the High St. bridge. Â Don't let the fact that they're all tuned into the same channel usually, sports mainly, dissuade you from a moment of awe as you take another sip of that stiff, happy hour priced drink.
The folks that I've encountered at the Lemon Tree resemble some of those colorful characters described in previous Yelp reviews, but mainly it's just a lot of old timers who retired their stools at John Patrick's and the Club House in favor of a spot that's slightly off the beaten path of Park St. Â Many of the Lemon Tree's clientele also seem to reside in rooms located above the bar, which is convenient for a number of reasons, but in practical terms it means you can get pretty shitfaced without having to worry about finding your way home at two in the morning. Â Of all the personalities I've come across while drinking at the Lemon Tree, mainly on Sundays and weeknights, only a couple were annoying, but nothing that ever threatened to ruin my time there. Â
You can't open a bar with the intention of making it into a dive, and that's the bottom line. Â The Lemon Tree is the real deal, and the folks that drink there, play pool there, and the older woman playing Keno for hours on end, and the terrible pool players who don't realize how terrible they are, and the questionable characters that are to blame for every bad review on Yelp are just as real. Â Tip your bartender, especially at the Lemon Tree, because they deserve it.
This is our neighborhood dive. Â Sorry, I forgot to capitalize the
"D." Â It gets 5 stars for authenticity (and $2.50 PBRs).
The first thing I did upon arriving home was to look up our neighborhood's sex offender registry. Â You know, the Google Maps plug-in that shows you where all the pederasts in your neighborhood reside, with a mug shot of each one?
Why would I do this? Â Because there was a curiously high concentration of men with Fu Manchu mustaches wearing trench coats and serious expressions on their face. Â No "Hipster Irony" here. Â This was for real.
We met a number of characters here, including a geriatric teetotaling Irishwoman who told us about her 12-step class; the awkward golf-playing-uncle looking guy who introduced himself to me 3 times, chastised me for over-tipping, and chatted me up at the urinal (a big "NO NO" in guy code); and the carpenter who suggested we step out to the patio to smoke a joint.
Also - there were FREE HOT DOGS (admittedly, delicious), and a cigarette vending machine in the corner. Â A group of bowling trophies sat against a wall, with a used condom deployed over the body of the biggest trophy's statue.
The Lemon Tree Inn is located one block from the Alameda Islander Motel, an S.R.O. flop-house that approximately 140 meth addicts call home. Â I have a feeling this place draws a lot of its business from there.
One of a kind!
the bermuda triangle of kidnappers, pederasts, and overall weirdos. Â it reminds me of that episode of brady bunch when greg got raped at the local bar. and the bartender is only lacking a pall mall hanging out her mouth to go with her bad attitude. Â the stonework out front is the only redeeming part of this place. (i think fred and barney put it in themselves).
Review Source:the lemon tree is where old, insanely friendly white people go to die, um, drink. life lessons are doled out abundantly as are complimentary drinks; whatever's on the counter [i hesitate to call it a buffet]; candy; and hugs & kisses from the parting and lovely bartendress. it feels like home and i want to drink there until i drop dead. the lemon tree is like cocoon, working class style. or alameda's version of the arrow bar [cuz it looks like a diorama]. i highly recommend it to those who appreciate a good dive bar and friendly folks. occasionally, one's twilight reverie will be interrupted by a racist hillbilly, as was the case last night for me n my crew [cuz we roll brown like that] and we felt compelled to move on. still, lemon tree is tops and i can't let some redneck get in the way of my weekly life lessons tutorial. Â or my hug and kiss from the lovely lady behind the bar.
Review Source:Alls I wanted was a nightcap after another stressful day at work. What I got:
-sexually harassed by a clan of geriatric barflies.
-a loaded bar table knocked into my lap by a couple of piss-drunk jocks.
-racially profiled.
-the nastiest whiskey I've ever had.
-novelty sex toy from the bathroom vending machine.
A night so bad that not even a sexy vending machine could save it.
F*ck you, Lemon Tree.
The Lemon Tree is like "Cheers," where everybody knows your name...
Friendly, reliable, reasonably-priced and reasonably-strong drinks make Lemon Tree a safe bet. Like most of the Alameda spots, Lemon Tree freshened up its decor not too long ago, so it's nice and clean, but dark, which I think a decent bar oughta be.
The Lemon Tree is the Narnia of Alameda. The rock wall facade might imply shag carpeting and crocheted plant holders, but to stroll inside is to enter a surreal dystopia illuminated by blinking lights from the latest in dive bar technology. It is mystifying.
Expect to find a fancy, new MP3 jukebox with access to many, many songs old and new (pricey, but at least you can hear what you want). Expect to find electronic gambling machines and, of course, a pool table. The bartender I'm familiar with is very kind and welcoming. You can go with Coors Light or Lagunitas IPA (slightly above standard!). But if you have NO standards, you can get a $2 shot of Schnapps with any beer purchase.
I'm a little wary of entering the restroom without a fully charged taser in my hand due to some of the folks I've run across here, but I haven't had any truly horrifying experiences.
Affordable drinks and eclectic charm will keep me coming back.
Lemon Tree, oh Lemon Tree..it's where _____ people go to ____. I'd fill in the blanks, but then I'd have some serious bad karma on my ass so I'd rather not. But basically, it can be whatever the hell you need it to be. I dig the hot dog machine and my friend saw corn muffins around the bar. Hells yeah!
Everyone was super friendly but I'd only stop to talk if I had a lot of time on my hands. Good place to end the night or start the night really, really early.
a place where Mike Brady or Alice would hang out at to get away from the "bunch". Usual bar schwag hang on the buttercup blue shingled walls. A rock wall supports the shelves of libations. Look closely in between the gaps of the rocks, what was once a little green ball of clay may just be lookin' right back at ya' kid.
Review Source:Ever since the 1940s, Alameda has been branded with the image of a quaint, small, Midwestern town firmly ensconced in the 1950s. Â That notwithstanding, Alameda used to have a shitload of dive bars. Actually, now that I think about it, dive bars may well be a hallmark of quaint, small, Midwestern towns firmly ensconced in the 1950s, for all I know. I don't consider myself an authority on quaint, small, Midwestern towns firmly ensconced in the 1950s. Â Nor would anyone else. Â So I can't really say. Â All I knows is there were way more dive bars in Alameda back in the day than there are now.
The list of dive bars that have bit the dust in Our Fair City over the past 20 or 30 years is vast and disturbing: Â
Remember Snug Harbor, near where some weird, creepy, Boo Radley-lookin' alleged upholstery concern that has sported a "Closed Due to Injury" sign in the window for the past five years or so now stands? Â (I hope the injured guy isn't still in there, dead of his injury and...you know...mummified by now.)
There was Rocko's, where Linguini's now takes up space. Â
There was Dale's, across the street from the base. Â (More than a dive, it was an adventure.) Â
The Fireside has gone all uptown on us. Â (They put in a freaking *window*, fercrissakes. Guess my brother-in-law won't be drinking *there* anymore.) Â
The 19th Hole, which gave up the ghost only to be converted  into a(nother) damn coffee house. Â
Lincoln's Address, which is now of course Forbidden Freaking Island.
Does anyone besides me recall The Hideout down at the end of...Pacific I believe it was. Â Maybe it was Lincoln. Anyhow, that place was the mostest. Â It looked as if someone had converted their living room into a bar, which might be explained by the fact that that's exactly what it was. Â It also boasted a severely warped, splintery, completely useless shuffleboard table that looked like it had been left out in the rain for ten or twelve or fifteen years. Â (How would Richard Harris feel about *that*?) Â I always felt like I was in the Deep South whenever I was in there, which I feel is quite flattering testimony to a joint located in a quaint, small Midwestern town firmly ensconced in the 1950s on the West Coast in the 1980s.
(I would go on, but this thing is already way too long and I didn't sleep so good last night. Â Plus my back kinda hurts.)
Ahhh, memories.
Now even the venerable Pop Inn has augured in (as all my test pilot buddies like to put it) only to be replaced by a freaking pub. Â
What the hell is becoming of this town? Â There are now far more churches here than dive bars.
Thankfully, the Lemon Tree still stands. Â And rocks.
There are a mess of things to dig about the Lemon Tree:  a cool jukebox, pool table, crock pot, "sister" dive across town (Wally's Corner) and décor clearly inspired by the Flintstones just for starters.  Plus it's named after a Trini Lopez song.  But one of the things I like most about the Lemon Tree is that it makes me feel like a moderate drinker.  Most of the habitués would put Dylan Thomas to shame, even on an off night. This may or may not have to do with the feature that canonizes the Lemon Tree as a dive bar:  it is physically connected to a transient hotel.  It don't get no more realer than that, my brutha.
Need to tie one on old-school style but don't want to stand out in the crowd? Â Knock back a couple of shots and head on over to the Lemon Tree. Â It's the right thing to do.
yes Yes YeS
We arrived a bit after Monday evening's karaoke had begun and it was packed. Â As we approached the front door, the soft coos of Joshua L. were gently ascending from his tightly grasped microphone..."I just want your extra time and your.. kiss".
There was already enough people to make the task of entering the party a difficult one. I ducked, dodged and smiled my way through friendly faces and slid into the less crowded back room. I looked up and the first thing I saw was a huge poster of a middle aged woman sitting on a bar stool...without pants..or underwear. Â Awesome. Between the bright blue cinder block wall, rock wall exterior, beaded lamps circa 1963, corn-like maze to the restroom and four counters full of crock pots - this place is divey greatness.
It was an eclectic mix of older regulars, younger regulars and random drop ins. Â At first, it was so crowded that I kept having to go outside to cool off. Â Around 11 p.m. a couple of groups left. Â I was then able to acclimate and get down with a little help from my friends.
For as busy as it was, I never waited more than 2 -3 seconds for a drink. Â I really can't say enough about the bartender. Â She was incredibly sweet and efficient. Â Not to mention, a reasonable $3.50 for a stiff rum & coke. Â
Curt KJ's on Monday nights. Anyone that knows Curt - knows he is the best in the business. Â A doctor of KJing indeed. He does an incredible job of rotating different groups and keeping the mood sublime.
You're gonna have a goooooooood time.
This may the ultimate dive in the Bay Area. Â One of my best friends used to take me here all the time. Â It was the kind of place where everyone knows each other. Â It looks like a cave inside and out.
Drinks are cheap. Â The crowd is reliably pickled, friendly, and rowdy at the same time. Â A good spot to meet people, that is, if you don't already know everyone there...
Auf.
Alameda has some of the greatest dives on the planet. For example, The Lemon Tree. If they put in a couple of slot machines you would swear you were at a bar off-the-strip in Reno. The rock walls are totally 70s, I love it!
Surly regulars being put in check by an even surlier bartender. Well priced drinks (I had beer, but the mixed drinks looked strong and the shots were pretty liberal). A cigarette machine for when you're jonesin'. I didn't see any food, but there is a microwave and a pretty impressive collection of Crock-Pots in one corner. I don't know what that's all about.
I know this is one of Alameda better dive bars when my older uncle is a regular at it. He says Jimmy I've been coming to this place for ages. He tells me that Julie the bar tender also rides a motorcycle, I asked him the Honda 250 in the back or the big ass Harley in the front.
The Lemon Tree standouts in the front where there are other merchants displaying flowers, mail boxes to go, barber-shop and t-shirts and other ware and then you see this brown faux rock wall with this funky patio in front. How did that pass Alameda's planning committee?
The bar is not too dark and danky and they serve the assortment of domestic beers. The bar area is not too fancy, just the typical long bar. I can recall seeing one of those Coors beers signs with the waterfall and REO Speedwagon on the jukebox. The drinks are not too strong but I don't think they go in depth in their vodkas and tequilas. They have a pool table where  my uncle gives me pointers, he is well versed in pool sharking.
I'm slightly confused. Â This has all the workings of the best dive bar on the planet, but what is with all the technology, man? Â The outside boasts a large faux rock wall reminiscent of the house of Brady. Â The inside looks as though Best Buy had a sale and took a large dump on the face of simple town.
I like my dive bars dark, especially after an 11 hour work day, but the Raiders game on all of the flat screens were lighting up my puss face. Â
I think there was a salad bar, or maybe just a pot luck I wasn't invited to. Â This was a public place but I couldn't help feeling like I was the girlfriend that just walked into the BBQ, that nobody's parents approved of.
I hate it when I accidentally hit the "Back" button on my browser and loose the partially-completed, half-cocked review I just spent a whole lousy five minutes writing up. If I were especially witty today, I'd make some tenuous connection between that, lemons, making lemonade, and the name of this bar. Sadly, I'm not feeling that witty.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and a successful one for both myself and my girlfriend, having woken up early, ate breakfast, gone to a museum, finished household chores, AND made it out to an East Bay dive bar that I'd driven past hundreds of time, yet hadn't made it into yet. Flush with that success, we decided that we should attempt to continue our lucky streak and hit up another long-forsaken dive bar, this time in Alameda. So we found ourselves at John Patrick's, where the bartender informed us of yet another dive bar. Rather than let that one languish for months until we finally got around to it, we headed over to the Lemon Tree.
The Lemon Tree Inn is, as I understand it, a relatively new establishment, having been opened by the owners of the Pop Inn a few years ago. I wonder if this lends to the somewhat incongruous decoration... I would not have expected to find beautifully made metal barstools with martinis carved into the backs in an establishment with a faux rock wall both outside and behind the bar. I'm guessing that the rock walls are hand-me-downs from the previous establishment. I don't think that matters to the patrons, though. Mostly of the forty-plus set, everyone there was relaxed and at ease.
I don't remember seeing anything special on tap or behind the bar, but I think this is the kind of place that you order your staples-- a Coors, gin & tonic, jack & coke, etc. The dollar-fifty special for a shot of Schnapps with your beer seems a little out of place, but then again, I'm not one to shoot Schnapps.
The bartender, Julie, is attentive, quick, and good for a chuckle. She has a good hand with the pour-- I was glad to not be driving home after my gin & tonic. I wasn't exactly sober when I came in, but I was considerably less sober upon leaving.
Given the close proximity to other bars that I strongly favor, I'm not terribly likely to be found here that often, but that shouldn't speak poorly of the Lemon Tree Inn itself. I wouldn't balk at the idea of coming here if someone else was interested. The Lemon Tree is a good place that I can see becoming a great neighborhood bar.
I did not see a single lemon tree in this place, aside from the horribly pained rendition of one on the door when you walk in.
I did see a sex toy vending machine in the women's restroom (the men's only has condom machines,sorry fellas). This confused me seeing as the crowd was of the age that the machines probably don't get much use.
There are lots of rocks on the wall, a ramp in the back that leads to nowhere (?), a side room with a pool table, a very friendly bartender who will ask you your name and them tell you she is going to forget it anyhow (her name is Julie) and bar stools that have martini glasses carved into the back of them - the classiest thing about the place, for sure.
A decent neighborhood bar where everyone seems to know each other and where they all appear to really enjoy their booze.
My pops was a grizzled old ex-Marine newspaper reporter (yes, "reporter" not "journalist"). If he was still around, he'd likely be right at home here. So, I immediately felt a sense of nostalgia drinking here. We had the pool table to ourselves for most of the night, which was fun. After that, I don't remember much. I do believe I ended up walking home at some point in the eve. Drinks are strong and beers are reasonably priced. That should explain a lot.
Review Source:We are on an Alameda dive bar tour. Â The Lemon Tree has been on our list for a really long time. Â We were heading home from Great America from a short return back to our adolescents on Saturday and we, by chance, ended up at the Lemon Tree on their Karaoke night. Â A few steps ahead of us, also entering the bar, was a sweet woman named Mary. Â She quickly sought us out and learned our names. Â She then ran down the list of all the Karaoke nights in Alameda. Â She encouraged us to sign up to sing a song. Â We instead listened to the others and drank beers, mixed drinks, and shots of tequila and Jagermeister.
We entered at least an hour before the singing began. Â The bar stools were ass-to-ass full. Â I could barely squeeze in to order our drinks. Â When the D-day for singing grew near, the regulars split and a new crop of people trickled in.
In one last ditch effort to delay the inevitable, one regular plopped money into the juke and picked every smooth jazz song he could find. Â It was useless because when Franky was ready, the plug came out of the wall and the smooth jazz came to a halt.
I loved the vibe of the Lemon Tree. Â I would totally go back, Karaoke or not!
They had crock pots, "free mags," $1.50 shots of schnapps with the purchase of a beer, a great "no shoes, no shirt, no service" poster, and, best of all, MILLER HIGH LIFE ON TAP. I didn't even know that existed.!
Many points off for the joker at the bar who filled up the jukebox with horrible music making it so we never heard our songs. I jokingly told everyone that if that "My Humps" song came on that we were leaving immediately.
Two songs later, we did just that.
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