The 50 best bars in NYC

Greenpoint, land of rapidly rising rents and Girls sightseeing tours, is in the midst of a cool-kid renaissance. Tucked into Brooklyn’s northern tip and accessible only by the erratic G train, the once-scrappy underdog to dominating Williamsburg is now a dining destination in its own right, attracting not only Lena Dunham fan-girls but also cachet-boosting restaurateurs like the Brooklyn Star’s Nick Padilla and Waine Longwell. The duo’s smart, striking bistro, Alameda, resets the standard for the neighborhood, once home to only beer-pouring local joints and Polish dance halls. The handsome, horseshoe-shaped bar commands the room, and from it come quaffs that cheekily riff on classics.

Branch-offs can often snap under pressure, but Le Bernardin has sprung a stem as strong as its base. Sitting across the galleria from that vaulted seafood restaurant, Aldo Sohm’s annexed vino-hub is far less buttoned-up than its big brother—no reservations or suit jackets required—but the level of detail here proves this apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

Prepare to geek out at this temple to beer and vintage arcade games: first at the 35 classic quarter machines (Donkey Kong, Contra), then at the ever-evolving beer selection detailed on a chalkboard above the bar. Owner Paul Kermizian stocks only American beer, with 75 percent of his haul hailing from the Northeast. But despite constant lineup changes, he manages to maintain remarkable stylistic balance—on the 24-tap draft list, you might see a crisp Victory pilsner alongside a diverse trio of stouts.

Long before craft entered the lexicon, there was Blind Tiger, one of the OGs of the New York beer scene. Since its arrival in 1995, Blind Tiger has achieved legendary status thanks to a meticulously curated program and some of the city's best bar food. The 28 taps ($6.50--$11), three casks and one gravity keg (usually $7), plus more than 80 bottles ($7--$55), make this the first port of call for brewhounds who want to track down pours they can't find anywhere else. Weekly events, including meet-the-brewer nights and frequent style showcases, help drinkers navigate the hunt.

This authentic Czech beer garden, opened in 1910, offers plenty of mingle-friendly picnic tables, where you can sit while you sample cheap platters of sausage and a solid lineup of European and domestic beers (pints $6, pitchers $16). Though the huge, tree-canopied garden is open year-round, summer is the prime time to soak up some rays over a pint.

When you hear “boobs and beer,” you think Hooters. But even that iconic paean to cleavage and canned suds gets some serious competition from this Bushwick bar and breastaurant from Iggy’s drink slinger Kristen North. Lady lumps abound at the brazen, retro-kitted dive—done up with hot-pink lights and heaps of B-movie camp—but hidden beneath the nip-slip kitsch is a surprisingly respectable neighborhood hangout.

The far-out experiments of the wizardly Dave Arnold, French Culinary Institute's director of culinary technology, have long informed the work of boundary-pushing bartenders and chefs like Don Lee and Wylie Dufresne. At this tech-forward cocktail joint, housed in the former Momofuku Milk Bar space next to Ssäm Bar, Arnold's boozy tinkerings get a room of their own. Here, glasses are chilled with a pour of liquid nitrogen and winter warmers are scorched with a Red Hot Poker, a rod with a built-in 1,500-degree heater created by Arnold himself.

When the weather turns brisk, the spirits go dark: floral gin gets swapped for smoke-nosed Scotch, and sunny rum makes way for spicy, robust rye. The brown slugs of fall are heartier than summer’s easy-drinking sips and leagues more complex: mash percentage, grain variety, even soil disparities can profoundly alter the taste of whiskey. That’s a hell of a lot to grasp for a connoisseur, let alone a brown-bottle newbie. Thankfully, the intimate Copper & Oak on the Lower East Side have whiskey enthusiasts covered like the sealed top of an aged barrel.

When it opened in 1995, this trailblazer embraced all the contemporary beer memes while most NYC bars were still dealing in Miller and Coors. Beer lovers fond of European classics as much as the domestic microbrewery du jour will appreciate the scope of the 20-deep draft selection (most $7): You might find an orange-tinged Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier from Germany alongside New York beers such as the velvety Southampton Imperial Porter.

It’s a scene straight out of Midnight in Paris—or maybe Back to the Future—all golden-age yearning and space-time shuffling. This dapper Gramercy lounge, from Raines Law Room operators Alberto Benenati and Yves Jadot, is a railroad space divided into period-piece quarters, including a tufted Victorian parlor and an ashtray-dotted hooch den worthy of Don Draper. Spend an hour at this luxe oasis and you’ll completely lose track of time—no DeLorean required.

This breezy, rum-soaked drinkery, secreted away near the Williamsburg waterfront, is charming, refined and a little subversive—an enchanting nook that feels worlds away from the industrial streets outside. The cocktails alone could coax aficionados from their habitual perches, but it’s the transporting staging that seals the deal—a fever-dream vision of Central America that takes its inspiration from Spanish-colonial cathedrals, Art Nouveau parlor rooms and the sailor’s flophouse that existed on this site in the 1800s.

This airy Williamsburg bar is New York’s first truly progressive cocktail joint—a casual mixology haven with stools to spare for drinkers of all persuasions. The lighthearted but well-executed menu changes according to the whims of Dram’s precocious barkeeps or order the bartender's choice with your preferred spirt. There are classics, too—like a beautifully integrated Sazerac—but you can also take your boozing cues from the neighborhood dudes draining $4 Porkslap ales or sipping from a smart collection of international wines.

By now, the late bar pioneer Sasha Petraske’s formula is pretty familiar: natty bartenders, precise drinks and little (if any) signage. What separates Long Island City's Dutch Kills from the rest is space. The plentiful elbow room makes it a comfortable place to enjoy cocktails like the rye-based Garibaldi, made with lime juice, Campari and mellow white grapes. The Infante takes the familiar pairing of tequila and lime, and lightens it up with homemade orgeat (rosewater and almond syrup) and nutmeg.

A fortune teller greets patrons at this comfortably-worn reproduction of a prohibition speakeasy. There’s a rousing scene in front, a mix of diehard regulars and industry types who jockey for the attentions of the chef-coat–clad barkeeps. Of all of the city’s craft cocktail joints Employees Only is among the most populist, with enough nerd-baiting tipples on the menu to please aficionados without alienating everyone else. Easy sipping libations include the floral Provencal, a silky blend of lavender-infused gin, vermouth steeped with herbs de Provence and Cointreau.

By the peak of summer even New York’s most venerable boat bars have become flooded with frat-tastic curios, all watered-down brews and Lonely Island references. This season, a new anchor drops in the Hudson, offering grown-up alternatives to that bustling sea of bros: Grand Banks, the historic schooner turned oyster bar captained by Mark Firth (Marlow & Sons). Bid farewell to plastic chairs and “I’m on a boat!” sing-alongs—it’s only smooth sailing from here.

The name says it all: To be a huckleberry is to be the right one for the job, and Huckleberry Bar is just that. Owners Andrew Boggs and Stephanie Schneider have created an experience that will satisfy any boozer’s desire: choice beers, an ace wine selection, serious cocktails and respectable eats. Acquire an intimate table in the expansive room and call for a glass of punch or a house drink such as the Greenbriar, made with oloroso sherry, peach bitters and Lillet.

This subterranean brew house is the unofficial clubhouse for the New York beer community, thanks to the efforts of garrulous owner Jimmy Carbone. Because of Carbone's hands-on involvement in the local scene, his dozen taps (most $8) and deep bottle collection are often the first point of entry for both hyperlocal nanobreweries and new-to-NYC imports. We've tried unfiltered Franconian lagers and a Japanese brown ale brewed at the foot of Mount Fuji at the marble-topped bar.

This massive rooftop beer garden, located 14 stories above the Italian megastore Eataly, offers a direct line to one of the world’s most exciting new beer regions: an unprecedented stash of beers from the Boot, as well as innovative house-made ales reflecting trends on both sides of the Atlantic. Hops-heads will geek out over the three proprietary cask-conditioned ales brewed on the premises—the collaborative effort of craft-brew pioneers Sam Calagione (founder of Delaware's Dogfish Head), Teo Musso (Piedmont's Birra Baladin) and Leonardo Di Vincenzo (Rome's Birra del Borgo).

True to her name, Ivy Mix stirs an incredible cocktail, especially in the company of Julie Reiner. The drink pros made quite the formidable pair at the Clover Club, Reiner’s Cobble Hill cocktail institution where Mix served as head bartender, but they’re testing if lightning strikes twice at this Pan-Latin follow-up. (Spoiler: It does.) In a mystic-cool space fitting for such bartender worship—rigged with Indio candles, cathedral-pew booths and a golden tin ceiling imprinted with crosses—Mix takes the reins on the cocktail menu and proves she’s worthy of the title leyenda (Spanish for legend).

As befits cocktail progenitor Sasha Petraske’s liquid legacy, the drinks at this clubby, low-ceilinged Village rathskeller are nigh perfect. If you choose to deviate from the menu, just give the neatly attired, polite bartenders a base liquor and a hint of your mood, and they can tailor a drink on the fly. A call for rye got us a spot-on Italian twist on a Manhattan, featuring maraschino liqueur, Carpano Antica vermouth and amaro. Custom-made cocktails—no password or secret handshake required.

Barkeep Phil Ward focuses on tequila and its cousin, mescal, at this East Village haute cantina. His wonderful menu features the Slynx cocktail, a liquid campfire of aged tequila, applejack, bitters and a smoky rinse of mescal. The craftsmanship in the drinks is equaled in the bar menu, featuring shareable snacks like popcorn dolled up with cotija cheese, ancho chili and lime. Despite its many strengths, Mayahuel wears its ambitions lightly. With so many of today’s top-tier cocktail bars lousy with vanity, that humility is a welcome departure.

Ladies should probably leave the Blahniks at home. In traditional Irish-pub fashion, McSorley’s floor has been thoroughly scattered with sawdust to take care of the spills and other messes that often accompany large quantities of cheap beer. Established in 1854, McSorley’s became an institution by remaining steadfastly authentic and providing only two choices to its customers: McSorley’s Dark Ale and McSorley’s Light Ale. Both beverages have a lot more character than PBR, though at these prices, it won’t be long before you stop noticing.

This rustic East Side Irish retreat gets it right. Thickly accented bartenders tend to off-the-clock Manhattanites and pastoral touches—a whitewashed facade, sawdust-covered floor and Celtic crosses—make the tavern feel like it's been transplanted from the Emerald Isle countryside. Get in the spirit with a pint of Murphy's Stout ($8), a creamy swig brewed in County Cork using a 150-year-old recipe. If none of the four Irish beers on tap appeal, opt for one of the dozen-plus whiskeys, including the peppery Powers Gold Label ($8).

Warning: You’ll be annoyed with Nitecap at first. The entrance is hard to find (hint: if you pass Schapiro’s, you’ve gone too far), the grizzly-haired doorman will likely tell you there’s a sizable wait, and you’ll have to wrestle an unwieldy velvet curtain the second you step inside. But the effort is well worth it, if only for the cavalcade of cocktail killers at its helm: Death & Co. honchos David Kaplan and Alexander Day own the joint, with drinks maven Natasha David (Maison Premiere, Mayahuel) behind the stick. Together, the trio has stirred up the kind of devil-may-care after-hours haunt you’ll want to linger at long after closing time.

Amid the swank food and drink sanctums sprouting around Park Avenue South, this classic tavern remains a shrine to unchanging values. Belly up to the bar and drain a few pints alongside the regulars who gather on stools “south of the pumps” (their lingo for taps). If you work up an appetite, skip the much-priased burger in favor of the chili dog: A grilled and scored all-beef Sabrett is deposited on a butter-toasted bun along with spicy homemade beef-and-red-kidney-bean chili, diced onions and shredded cheddar.

The bouncers at the door aren’t window dressing—they’re serious about keeping out the rough element that characterized this hangout for much of its 80-year history. True, the venerable dive has evolved, hosting events with such partners as Triple 5 Soul (there’s an occasional cover of $5) and adding DJs who spin jungle and new wave. It hasn’t evolved too much, though: 169 remains a satisfyingly obscure place to get a beer for $3 and, until it’s time to hit the pool table, pump the music and start dancing.

According to history buffs, in 1904, O. Henry wrote “The Gift of the Magi” in what was then a quiet Gramercy pub. Today it’s three deep at the bar, and O. Henry would have a hard time parking it anywhere. Though Pete’s—a Civil War–era survivor—draws its share of tourists, you’ll also rub shoulders with neighborhood types who slide into the wooden booths to snack on affordable Italian eats with standard suds (16 beers on tap include a hoppy house ale) bubbling in frosty mugs.

There is no bar to belly up to at this louche lounge. Drinks are prepared in a beautiful but half-hidden back room surrounded by gleaming examples of every tool and gizmo a barkeep could wish for. From this gorgeous tableau comes an austere cocktail list. Try the Pioneer Spirit (rye, apple brandy, orgeat and angostura bitters), the Andean Dusk (Pisco, grapes, lemon and rose champagne) or turn up the heat with the 10 Gallon Hat (mezcal, ancho chile, lime and pineapple). Who needs a barstool anyway? The popular speakeasy also has a second midtown location inside the William Hotel.

In this earnest Cobble Hill beer hall, owners Dave Liatti (a former engineer for Sixpoint Craft Ales) and Chris Munsey (Murray’s Cheese) have created a real nerve center for the Brooklyn brew scene. Their 30-plus taps are devoted to local craft beers (Ommegang, Barrier Brewing), small-batch wines (Red Hook Winery) and kombucha, and they curate a steady flow of events connecting patrons with the purveyors. Stop by for discussions, cooking classes and film screenings, or just settle into a communal table with your crew.

The pared-down lineup of six drafts and one cask here speaks to owner Joe Carroll's reverence for beer. "With too many lines, the beer can sit around and get stale," he says. Spuyten's minimal draft offerings, as well as its 100-plus bottle list, are focused mainly on tiny European breweries. Sample old-world rarities like the thick, sherrylike Samichlaus lager from Austria or cellar-aged Cantillon lambics of various vintages. There’s also a tasty bar menu of smoked meats, pâtés, cheeses and terrines.

Exclusivity pervades New York cocktail culture, with bars hidden behind faux phone booths and inside unmarked, darkened dens. But Alphabet City's understated Summit forgoes the pretense—no reservations or covert knocks required—without compromising its drink savvy. Barkeeps Greg Seider and Gil Bouhana have created a split-personality menu that appeals to traditionalists (old-fashioneds, whiskey sours), as well as adventurous imbibers. We can pass hours at the black-granite bar, slowly sipping Seider's quirky "alchemical" inventions like Charmane's Star (Russian Standard Vodka, Cucumber, Shiso Leaf, Fresh Lime, Vietnamese Cinnamon Infused Agave, Rhubarb Bitters) or the whiskey-driven Gov’nor (yuzu, orange juice and cardamom-infused agave syrup).

This unassuming wharfside tavern has been passed down in the Balzano family since 1890. On weekends, the bar buzzes with middle-aged and new-generation bohemians (the latter distinguished by their PBR cans), and the odd salty dog (canines, not sailors). Despite the nautical feel, you’re more likely to hear bossa nova or bluegrass than sea chanties warbling from the speakers.

The immense dark-wood bar, bare-bones pool room and old-school jukebox attract an unpretentious crowd that’s more interested in drinking than in flirting. There are plenty of choice beers on tap, including Old Speckled Hen, Dentergens Wheat and local Six Point Brown Ale—all for a reasonable $5-or-so a pint. The Inn dates back to the 19th century; tie on a few and you may even see the ghost of Walt Whitman.

This maritime tavern trains its focus on the communal pleasures of punch. Frank Cisneros (Dram) is behind the nightly punch-by-the-glass specials as well as large-format bowls for groups, including the Crusade—a fruity marriage of Old Monk Indian rum, citric rooibos Earl Grey tea from South Africa and a boatload of spices. Tea-stained navigational charts on the ceiling and nautical bric-a-brac rachet up the seafaring spirit, but the prices are a draw for landlubbers as well.

Picture Don Draper on vacation: rum cocktail in hand, wind blowing through that meticulous coif. While you may never have Jon Hamm’s cut-from-glass jawline (sorry), you can make like a Sterling Cooper adman at leisure in this retro-kitted tiki lounge, from Tijuana Picnic partners Jon Neidich and Jim Kearns. The bi-level bar is crammed with mid-20th-century curios—a ’60s pop soundtrack; mod, half-moon booths; waitresses in Chuck Taylors—but it’s the customizable cocktails and breezy vibe that win over the crowd.

If you've ever visited a vineyard, you're familiar with the tasting-room drill: Watch a promotional video, then sip minuscule pours in a makeshift barroom. But things are a bit different at the Shanty, a new drinkery attached to the manufacturing floor of the New York Distilling Company, which recently kicked off production in Williamsburg. The place offers a unique tippling experience, allowing drinkers to compare the borough-made booze side-by-side with more familiar brands or try it in a range of well-built cocktails.

Owner Kathryn Weatherup puts her friends to good use at this tony Tribeca drinkery, a spin-off of her popular Prospect Heights bar. Richard Boccato (Dutch Kills) steers a well-balanced cocktail list featuring a mix of classics—like the Revolver, which softens the bite of bourbon with coffee liqueur and orange bitters—and original quaffs. Of the latter, we liked the pleasingly bitter Kensington Fix, made with Plymouth gin, simple syrup and earthy Amaro CioCiaro. Pair the booze with smart snacks from Tyler Kord (No. 7), such as luxurious oyster platters or baskets of excellent house-made potato chips. While prices are high, there’s plenty of polish to be found here—right down to the immaculate ice that’s harvested and cut on site.