Moe’s has a long bar, dingy bathrooms, a love-testing machine and a pool table in the back—plus, the bonus of “no ladies since 1979,” at least according to pig-faced owner Moe. Gussy’s has a long bar, dingy bathrooms, an electronic gambling machine and a pool table in the back—plus, “women almost never come in here, unless they’re lost,” according to snub-nosed owner Gus. This place is a real-deal neighborhood dive, surrounded by tiny row homes and on a street that dead-ends at the Con Ed power plant. But when our beer got warm, the bartender filled a metal pail with ice and stuck the half-empty bottle inside. No wonder our real-life Homer, Jack, is a regular.

Simpsons Images Courtesy Fox TV

The place: Noiseland Video Arcade

The counterpart: Dave & Buster’s (234 W 42nd St between Broadway and Eighth Ave, 646-495-2015)

More than just the hangout for Springfield Elementary’s resident ruffians, Noiseland is where a humbled Homer, obsessed with beating Bart in video boxing, turns to a gaming prodigy named Howie for tutelage. But Noiseland’s selection of games, highlighted by Escape from Grandma’s House, Robert Goulet Destroyer and Waterworld (which costs Milhouse 40 quarters to play), leaves a bit to be desired. Homer wouldn’t be able to tear himself away from the particularly adult Dave & Buster’s, where you can find food and an ice-cold Duff (or its equivalent) around every corner. Located smack in the middle of Forty Deuce, this 35,000-square-foot fun house also happens to carry every game a grown-up kid could ever dream of, from NASCAR simulators on 60-inch screens to old standbys like Donkey Kong and Ms. Pac-Man. And did we mention there’s booze?

Simpsons Images Courtesy Fox TV

The place: The Android’s Dungeon

The counterpart: Time Machine (207 W 14th St between Seventh and Eighth Aves, No. 2; 212-691-0380)

Lorded over by the condescending supernerd Comic Book Guy, the Android’s Dungeon is filled with oddities—like a photo of Sean Connery autographed by Roger Moore, and a prized copy of Radioactive Man No. 1 for $100, which caused a feud that nearly tore Bart and Milhouse apart. At the Time Machine, a heavy, graffiti-tagged metal door belies a cheery browsers welcome sign, and a dark stairwell leads up to the second-floor shop, which—from the floors to the racks to the walls—is filled with old and new comic books, magazines and movie posters. But there’s a method to the madness, and the two clerks we encountered were more than happy to help once we roused them from their Harry Potter discussion. The trophy piece is a late-’70s X-Men issue priced around $450. “We have some fun with the regulars, but mostly it’s the customers making all the sarcastic comments,” says employee Victor Flores.

Simpsons Images Courtesy Fox TV

The place: Barney’s Bowl-A-Rama

The counterpart: Melody Lanes (461 37th St between Fourth and Fifth Aves, Sunset Park, Brooklyn; 718-832-2695)

Known for its highly competitive league night—which saw Homer’s Pin Pals knock off Flanders’s Holy Rollers in the last frame of the championship game—Barney’s was also where Marge was nearly swept off her feet by Jacques, the suave French bowling instructor who so loved the alley’s onion rings. (Nerd alert: While the Bowl-A-Rama is named after Homer’s drinking buddy, the beer-and-balls emporium is actually owned by Barney’s Uncle Al.) Homer had to hustle Mr. Burns for a $500 team registration fee, and you might have to do the same at Melody Lanes. During the busy fall/winter season, leagues run an average of $28 a person per week (summer leagues are mostly for day camps), but beers as cheap as $2.25 more than make up for it. As far as onion rings—mmm, onion rings—manager Marianne Falsetta doesn’t want to be pigeonholed: “The onion rings are good, and I love the mozzarella sticks. Everything, to me, is good—not that it’s good for me.”

Simpsons Images Courtesy Fox TV

The place: The Frying Dutchman

The counterpart: Randazzo’s Clam Bar (2017 Emmons Ave at Ocean Ave, Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn; 718-615-0010)

When Homer pays for an all-you-can-eat buffet at Captain McAllister’s restaurant, he expects it to live up to its promise, dammit! But in an episode penned by Conan O’Brien, this seafood shack isn’t able to accommodate the big guy’s appetite. At Randazzo’s, with its intimidating assortment of fried food—including fried zucchini, fried calamari, fried clams, fried shrimp, fried oysters, fried scallops, fried fish fillet, fried chicken and french fries—Homer would be right at home. One thing he won’t be finding, however, is any buffets. “How could you do that on my good seafood?” asks Randazzo’s owner, Jackie. “I’m not Red Lobster.”

Simpsons Images Courtesy Fox TV

The place: The Singing Sirloin

The counterpart: Ellen’s Stardust Diner (1650 Broadway at 51st St, 212-956-5151)

The singing waitstaff at Springfield’s “special occasion” restaurant is a versatile crew, belting out Al Jolson’s “Anniversary Song” to an old wedded couple, Paul Anka’s “Having My Baby” to the young and knocked up, and a solemn 19th-century hymn to a weeping family dressed in black. Mourners are even more out of place at Ellen’s, a bright ’50s-themed restaurant with a singing staff that serves up classic diner fare on the north end of the Times Square hell mouth. According to manager Kevin Svetlich, 11 performers are usually working at once, and many of them are Broadway actors picking up shifts between gigs. In addition to nightly shows, they take requests, most of which are current Broadway hits or Elvis tunes. Yes, they have sirloin, but Svetlich swears by one of Homie’s other favorite snacks: the burger.

The place: Sir Putt-a-Lott’s Merrie Olde Fun Center
The site of the epic mini-golf battle where Bart and Todd Flanders battled for bragging rights (and $50 in prize money) has an even more special place in Simpsons family history—Bart was conceived in the windmill. While you’re here, pick up a snack at Her Majesty’s Putting Café.

The counterpart: Randalls Island Golf Center
A little off the beaten path, this complex boasts batting cages, a driving range and two pristine miniature golf courses ($6 for adults, $4 for children). You won’t find obstacles like a rotating Angel of Death or Abraham Lincoln swinging his legs to block your ball, but that doesn’t mean your round will be an easy one. Catch one of the shuttle buses that run from Manhattan for only 10 bucks; for a schedule, call 212-427-5689.

The place: Phineas Q. Butterfat’s 5600 Flavors Ice Cream Parlor
It’s the place to go in Springfield if you need to eat the pain away. That’s what Rex Banner does when he can’t fell the infamous Beer Baron (though he doesn’t have the stomach to touch his Banana Kaboom sundae). It’s also where Homer tries to win back Lisa’s love by buying her the Mount Bellyache, a four-foot tall, $88 sundae served in a wheelbarrow.

The counterpart: Sedutto (1498 First Ave between 78th and 79th Sts, 212-879-9557)
At this Upper East Side ice cream parlor you can bask in the joy that is towering portions and full-fat deliciousness. You “only” have 36 flavors to choose from (hey, even Baskin-Robbins carries just 21 full-time), so choose wisely from such customer faves as Mocha Almond Fudge, Pistachio and Moose Tracks. But with only two tables, expect your sundaes to come in bowls, not lawn equipment.

The place: South Street Squidport
Refurbished and reopened with a fabulous gala that attracted local luminaries like Professor Frink, Principal Skinner and has-been Hollywood poster boy Troy McClure, the Squidport has been a reliable go-to spot for Springfield’s fancier soirees over the years. But the glossy sheen is not all it seems: Behind the Moe’s Brewing Company entrance is a long tunnel that leads to the regular old dingy Moe’s Tavern, prompting one yuppie to remark, “This isn’t faux dive. This is a dive!”

The counterpart: South Street Seaport
Our own waterfront promenade may be slightly more overrun with tourists than natives, but an indie rock-focused summer concert series and the temporary Spiegelworld venue on Pier 17 have been packing in the locals. As for money-burning options, the two aren’t so far apart. While the Squidport has the Itchy & Scratchy Store, Turban Outfitters and My First Tattoo, the Seaport has Cartoon World, Abercrombie & Fitch and, uh, the Bodies exhibit. Well, maybe it’s not an exact match.