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If you ever stumbled into Siberia in the ’90s—or heard Anthony Bourdain call it his favorite bar on Earth—you know this is no ordinary dive. For years, the Hell’s Kitchen haunt was equal parts clubhouse and chaos, tucked first inside the 50th Street subway and later reborn on Ninth Avenue. Then, like all great New York stories, it disappeared.
Now, against all odds, Siberia is back. And fittingly, it has tunneled its way into yet another underground space: the Turnstyle Underground Market at Columbus Circle, hidden just steps from the 57th Street–Eighth Avenue subway entrance. It opened quietly last weekend, still labeled as “Gotham Taco” (the space’s former tenant), but regulars knew where to look. A red glow, a jukebox and the familiar grin of proprietor Tracy Westmoreland, Siberia’s self-proclaimed “minister of propaganda,” confirmed the resurrection.
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This new Siberia is compact but unmistakable: eight stools, a slim bar and a Lynchian wash of crimson light. Artist Dana Nehdaran splashed a wall with Warhol-meets-subway portraiture, while the playlist leans punk, outlaw country and rock. True to Siberia form, the drinks are cheap by Midtown standards—Westmoreland keeps them a dollar less than neighboring bars—and the rules are more social contract than signage: Don’t talk politics, don’t be creepy and never ask for fruit in your cocktail.
It is missing a bathroom, though. Patrons will need to borrow the Turnstyle’s communal restroom (code required). But if you came here for pristine facilities, you may have taken the wrong train. Siberia has always been about grit and community: the writers, bartenders, Broadway actors and night-shift wanderers who drop in for a drink and conversation, not a garnish tray.
The opening drew a crowd of loyalists and curious newcomers, some remembering the nicotine-stained jukebox of Ninth Avenue, others discovering the bar’s lore for the first time. The vibe was less debauchery than reunion—baby carriages and walking sticks among the beers and shots.
“I live a few blocks away, and I just wanted to have a place I want to go to,” Westmoreland told Grub Street. “There aren’t any here.”
And now it’s here, hiding in plain sight under Columbus Circle. Like a dive-bar Platform 9¾, the trick is finding it. The reward is stepping through the door and realizing that, in a city where everything changes, Siberia somehow still feels like the same old secret.