Julien Levy

For those of us who can’t be bothered with centerpieces or sweaters or drunk uncles who refuse to keep their political opinions to themselves, great news: you can skip it. While most bars are indeed closed for Thanksgiving day, a few take their duty to the public seriously, keeping the doors open and the booze pouring. And why not? We reject that the only valid way to give thanks is by eating the same dry turkey, gummy mashed potatoes, and overcooked green beans. What if we don’t like football or pie or children? Is it so wrong to want to take advantage of open bar real estate? And maybe your family (chosen or blood) is great! Maybe everybody pitches in and the food is delicious and spirits are high. Well, that’s terrific, but it doesn’t preclude a post-dinner drink or two; a debrief, a nightcap, a check-in with oneself before lumbering home with a bag full of leftovers. RECOMMENDED: Full guide to Thanksgiving in NYC To help you in your endeavor, we’ve assembled a list of bars–not restaurants–that are open on Thanksgiving day. Some are serving food but most aren’t. And some are open at their regular hours but most are doing things just a tad differently, so keep that in mind. Whatever you do: don’t lose sight of the bartenders–they should be counted in your thanks, too. Just remember: regardless of their demeanor while serving, they’re not doing it purely for the love of the game and their landlords don’t accept gratitude as payment.Updated November 6, 2025: We’ve looked aro

Just beneath where Manhattan’s grid begins at 14th Street sits Greenwich Village. Generally speaking, it’s divided into thirds by vibe: The Village is touristy, NYU, chi chi; The East Village is grittier, cooler, with more attitude; and then there’s the subject at hand–top contender for the highest concentration of gorgeous townhouses, adorable blocks, and the confusing spiderweb of named intersecting streets. Yes, we’re talking about a place where West 4th Street, West 10th Street, and 7th Avenue converge: the West Village. RECOMMENDED: The best bars in NYC The neighborhood has undergone and continues to undergo massive change, but a few things will always be true (we hope): this is Manhattan’s queer beating heart, the spaces are quaint and the buildings are old, and on almost every block there’s an enticing bar or restaurant. So what we’ve assembled for you here is a list of the best bars in the neighborhood. We’ve tried to cover every taste, from dirty dives to cocktail classiness and everything in between. If you haven’t done so, do yourself a favor and spend a fair-weather afternoon wandering the West Village from the Hudson to 6th Ave–you’ll find the astounding concentration of different experiences, interests, and people for which this city is most famous and most proud.Updated October 29, 2025: We’ve tried to welcome newcomers to the neighborhood, shout out stalwarts, and give credit where it’s due. Some places in a previous iteration of this list were too exclusive

One of New York City’s most enduring features is that almost nothing in it endures; the place is constantly undergoing change. Buildings are razed and reconstructed, streets are renamed and rerouted, neighborhoods’ identities are redefined and reinvented. That’s why it’s so special when a bar (of all things!) survives. The new and shiny may get a lot of attention, but there are places in this city that have persisted in the face of ever-present churn and seemingly-endless upheaval and they, too deserve a shout. These places are stalwarts, bits of history with fun baked in. It’s where your immigrant ancestors may very well have tied one on, where historical figures may have gotten sloppy, where the movements that shaped our country found liquid courage.  RECOMMENDED:  The best bars in NYC: your definitive drinking guide Below is a list of some of New York City’s oldest bars. Is it an exhaustive list? Nah. Are they some of the best bars? Not necessarily. Do they have a kind of character you can’t possibly manufacture? Absolutely. So if you fancy yourself a New Yorker or aspire to call yourself one someday, we daresay you can’t claim the title until you’ve heard last call at one of these places.  October 20, 2025: We’ve swapped a few places with more exposure for a couple that are indeed old and deserve a little more attention e.g. Keen’s for Julius’. It’s also worth noting that the places below aren’t in order of age or founding and that some of the finer historical details are

Look, every bar in New York City is gonna host a Halloween party—virtually everyone. You know what we’re talking about: fake webs, plastic jack o lantern tubs rattling with the hard candy nobody wants, a vinyl bat or two. It all goes right back into storage on November 1, then it’s business as usual. That is not what we’re talking about here.  RECOMMENDED: Guide to Halloween in NYC We want a Walpurgisnacht Weltanschauung going down to the very bones. Weird, ghoulish, eerie, off, odd–the strange and unusual all year long. Either that or they’ve pulled a Lon Chaney and completely transformed. Mind you, there are places where you can grab some food on this list, but we’re trying to narrow this to bars. But don’t worry, we’ve got range: heavy-metal horror, adorable witchiness, a creaky tavern that serves pot pie with a side of horrifying lore. Want Zombies? We got ‘em. Ghosts? Yup. Vampires? Covered. Anything within smelling distance of the Gowanus Canal automatically counts as representing Creature from the Black Lagoon, so we’re good there. If the Slaughtered Lamb hadn’t gotten hit by the silver bullet of rising rent, we’d have a werewolf, so we’re on the hunt for a replacement. We do have a slot open for mummies… Does anyone know of a revenge-for-disturbing-the-ancient-tomb themed dive? The point is: besides catering to the macabre, what ultimately unites the places below? They’re good bars. Visit any, and you’re sure to have a good time, even on a dreaded sunny day.

Ramen is a format, not a fixed dish. Like a hamburger, it’s a canvas for expressing personality, skill and philosophy. Some places are obsessed with crafting their own noodles, while others buy them from a vendor. Some worship the egg; but it’s an afterthought for others. Should broth be subtle and salty or rich and spicy? And what about you? That à la carte menu is there for a reason, so are you going to throw a knob of cold butter in there, corn, mashed potatoes (yes, really)? The point is that there is no ‘correct’ bowl of ramen, just the one you love. So, below you won’t find the best per se, just the ones that impressed us for one reason or another. From finely-tuned specialists to crowd-pleasers, we’re casting as wide a net as possible. Some places go way outside the box, some hone the dish to a fine point. The only commonality is noodles, a bowl and soup. For that reason, in an effort to present some reasonable basis for comparison, we chose to look at each respective place’s standard and near-universally ubiquitous tonkatsu pork bowl, but made sure to include indications for vegetarians (and vegans where possible) so nobody’s left out. And in an effort to respect each restaurant’s point of view, we’ve broken each entry’s bowl down into its constituent parts: broth, noodles, chashu (or equivalent), veg, and egg. RECOMMENDED: The best restaurants in NYCBefore we get on with it: yes, there is indeed a correct way to eat ramen. First, take in the bowl, appreciate its gest

Midtown isn’t a destination; it’s where you end up between obligations. Nobody goes there on purpose—they come through a glass revolving door at 11:42am, late to their meeting or timed museum visit. The likelihood is that you’re in midtown because your family is visiting. They want to see a show or something. Well, with our help, you can power lunch them silly. Just don’t make eye contact with the work-shirts hunched over martini lunches, humming the 1% blues. The truth is that under the starch, glass, and car-choked avenues, midtown, like every other neighborhood in this city, plays home to a staggering diversity of cultures, ethnicities, interests, religions, socio-economic statuses, and every other thing. The point is that, no matter what you’re looking for and unlikely as it may seem, there’s a restaurant in midtown that ticks your boxes. So what we’ve got for you, intrepid sojourner, is a slew of options from the depths of food halls to the tippy top of the culinary mountain—all of them worthy of being one of the best restaurants in midtown. RECOMMENDED: The best restaurants in NYCSeptember 2025: Some places have moved, others closed, still more are exactly where we left them. It’s hard to sift through what makes a place worth recommending; beyond what we’ve listed here, there are a slew of other excellent restaurants worth your money and time but the thing is that we tried to narrow our selections down a bit to places that are exceptional, singular, unique–the kind of

Let’s make a distinction up front: there’s a big difference between witchy-gothy fun toying with aesthetics and vibes, and places with a history of (reported, supposedly) real supernatural activity. While we do love the fun and kitsch and edge-lordliness of drinking cocktails while trying to fend off an actor dressed as Beetlejuice, or doing shots in a room that could be Lestat’s boudoir, or listening to The Cramps while sipping a cocktail made with real blood—the following list falls into the other category. Never mind that it's proven certain HVAC and plumbing systems can generate infrasound, instilling a seemingly inexplicable sense of dread for which there’s a solid evolutionary advantage (i.e., many big cats’ roars, thunderstorms, and geological events all produce that same inaudible, sphincter-tightening frequency). Some places just feel haunted. So, if you’re bound and determined to eat and drink with a side of parapsychological phenomena, head to NYC's most haunted bars and restaurants below. September 2025: We’ve expanded this list to include a few more places with reported spooky goings on. Clearly, none of the places on this list are new—that’s kind of the point. We’ve just broadened out a bit and given more room to the apparitions themselves, diving a little deeper into the lore. Not every place here can be visited at Witching Hour (3:00am), when the veil between this world and the next is its thinnest, so YMMV.

New York City does indeed love its wine. And like everything else here, there’s a place for you, whoever you are and whatever you’re into. The “wine bar” appellation might conjure images of candlelit rooms with a Jazz soundtrack and naught but bread and olives to eat—and those exist, for sure—but it isn’t as specific as you might imagine. The best wine bars in NYC are cozy little nooks and bustling dining rooms that fit the bill from Midtown to Bushwick. So, how do you decide where to go? Well, much like a novice, sweating, staring at a wine list, your best bet might be to seek guidance. To that end, below you’ll find a diverse range of NYC wine bars with a wide variety. But why commit to one when—lucky you—there are so many to explore? RECOMMENDED: The best bars in NYC August 2025: Sadly, many wine bar favorites didn’t survive COVID and/or economic vicissitudes. Coast and Valley, Lois, Lalou, Rooftop Reds, Peoples Wine Bar—we raise a glass to you! The good news is that newcomers are cropping up all the time, and there are quite a few of those fresh faces below.

It’s theater, it’s a party, and yes, it’s a delicious meal. But what makes KBBQ especially thrilling in NYC? Range. You’ve got Michelin Star execution, no-frills all-you-can-eat, and places that feel half-nightclub–all just a subway ride away. Each Korean barbecue restaurant in NYC offers something special, each has its place, but all hold the same promise: grilled protein, communal cooking, and a lot of fun. Add some alcohol into the mix and... ooh baby. A KBBQ night might just get you feeling sentimental about the glorious melting pot that is our city. But it might also just leave you feeling full and happy. RECOMMENDED: The best restaurants in NYC  August 2025: Many places from Ktown to Flushing have adjusted their hours and prices, but what you love about KBBQ in NYC remains intact. Unlike many other styles of eating typical to the Western demo, KBBQ is priced per person, so keep in mind that your mileage may vary if cost is a concern. Also worth noting is that we’ve chosen to focus here on the table BBQ, but most of the restaurants listed below also have kitchens that produce the other dishes, including banchan.

Solid bedrock is one of the central geological features enabling New York to sprawl skyward. But that same terra firma also means that builders and property owners can set their sights lower. Most buildings reserve their basement space for, y’know, basement stuff. Lucky for us, a few possess the arable conditions of space, code compliance, and vision that let basement bars take root. RECOMMENDED: The best bars in New York Basement bars truly are special things. No matter what awaits you, descending a set of stairs to a bar feels like being let into a secret. In New York, that feeling in itself is serious currency. Some basement bars let their digs remain in the novelty zone; they simply found an accommodating space and–windows, who needs ‘em? But a few places know the premium of subterranean space all too well and utilize it to play with irony or design. Some bars even lean all the way in, adopting a full-on speakeasy theme, eschewing signage altogether and decking their bar out in 20s style.  No one approach is right because not every bar is for every person. That’s why we are here: to give you a rundown of some of our favorite NYC basement bars.  August 2025: It’s impossible on a city summer’s sojourn–standing on a squalid subway station’s sweltering subterranean platform–to consider almost anything other than your proximity to hell. The irony is that, on a day like that, there is really no better place to beat the heat than underground–in cool environs with a cold drink in

Sure–celebrating Cinco de Mayo satisfies any South-of-the-Border craving, but why reserve the city’s best margaritas in NYC for just one day? It's always time for tequila, especially when shaken up with a hit of spice or swirled with sweet watermelon. Hit NYC’s best Mexican restaurants for some serious agave spirits, or down them alongside some of Gotham's best tacos. Fair warning, though: You're gonna want a pitcher.   RECOMMENDED: Full guide to cocktails in NYC Updated May 2025: We added Gueros Brooklyn, Fresco's Cantina, Oyamael and Superbueno. We removed the Black Ant as it closed, La Contenta, La Loncheria and Kokomo. 

When good weather breaks through the clouds, NYC has an abundance of things to do outside. In addition to parks and other outdoor attractions, we have a slew of rooftop bars and outdoor dining options to choose from. And some of the best bars in NYC fit into the beer garden and hall categories, ideal for those brief and beautiful moments when it’s neither too hot nor too cold, and only a crisp brew will do. These NYC beer gardens have everything you’d expect—outdoor tables, fun games, lovely music and, of course, thirst-quenching pints, many brewed on-site. Throw in some tasty snacks and you’ve got yourself the perfect afternoon. Whatever style of suds you prefer, NYC has an alfresco option for sipping a cold one on a gorgeous day. RECOMMENDED: Full guide to things to do outside in NYC

In a quiet basement on Grove Street, the place that taught New York’s cocktail faithful saint-like patience has risen once again. Rather than ascending to an unmarked door in a Japanese restaurant, there is now a short descent, a modest door, a small waiting room. Other than that, not much has changed: the bartenders are still focused, the drinks are still imaginative, the rules governing seating are still in place; the mural depicting baffled-looking cherubs still presides over the bar, reminding drinkers that patience is now and has always been an essential facet of cocktail liturgy.  The decor is restrained, with lighting doing much of the work. Dark wood, an intimate run of seats, the aforementioned cherubs hovering like half-in-the-bag regulars. Most of the space belongs to the bar proper, a pulpit that keeps the room focused on process. You can hear the whisk of a tin, the crack of ice, the faint sizzle of a blowtorch. Music stays low and jazzy, classy. And the absence of standing room helps preserve the room’s low register.  House rules are back. Walk-ins only. Parties of four or fewer. No standing, no split parties. The boundaries, while strict, give the bartenders room to practice the exacting style of Japanese cocktailing that made the original famous. And the staff enforces said boundaries with politeness, calm, and confidence, but don’t even try to negotiate them. If you dread lines, know that this one can and will build at peak hours and that the small vestibule

Originally, Bandits was a Garret Group’s “70s diner fused to a real-deal cocktail bar” concept carried to a logical conclusion. The place has since streamlined, paring its diner-y trappings down to decor and theme. But any misgivings about the place’s raison d'etre fall away with just a little push by an excellent smash burger and well-crafted cocktail.Aesthetically, the room is wonderfully realized: checkered floors, diner-style bar stools, knick-knacks, illuminated signage, lacquered wood–the effect is somewhere between theme restaurant and genuine nostalgia. There are booths and banquettes for elbow-leaning and fry sharing. The disco ball and a patch of mirror-tiled ceiling give the place a buttery warmth during the day and sparkly flash at night. Weekends are packed–no surprise there. But the skilled staff still crank out the cocktails and burgers and keep things humming. And, weather permitting, you can always duck into one of the well-realized booths outside. Drinks are where The Garret’s signature discipline and imagination exerts itself. The menu tends divier than its sister bar but the mixological creativity still emanates. You can snag a beer+shot combo or a pickleback, yes. But you can also treat yourself to The Not So Tini (martini), crafted with precision and grounded by a goat cheese-stuffed olive. If you’re in the market, on Mondays, you can get $10 martinis, or make it a full “happy meal” with a smashburger and fries for $25. Speaking of smash burgers, Bandits

There are many West Village rooms that feel too fancy, too crowded, too moody for a casual night out. Then there’s Donna–a cheery, inviting, casual worker-owned cooperative cocktail bar. A reincarnation of the Williamsburg original, this West Village location is just as accessible, confident, and charming.The bright room recalls Brazilian Neo-Concretism with its defined geometric shapes and color contrast, giving the place’s minimalism a touch of whimsy. It’s fun, tempered by class with white brick, soft pink banquettes, compact tables with just enough elbow room for a couple to lean in for intimate conversation. Music is present but calibrated to allow speaking at a normal volume, even when the place is full. The crowd skews neighborhoody with a steady trickle of industry folks buzzing around the bar. Service has the relaxed assurance and confidence you get when the people pouring are also the people with a stake. Surprise! Employee ownership and the elimination of wage slavery yield more responsive service! Whoda thunk it? Drinks are where Donna shines brightest.  For anyone who doesn’t do liquor, you’ll find a couple of draft beers and some wines by the glass/bottle. But the cocktailing here is the main draw and it is luscious; a tiki/beachy/tropical-leaning list heavy on fruit flavors but balanced with skill. If you’re looking for dessert in a cocktail, lucky you: they’ve got an entire section for it, like the keylime flip: vodka, lime, cream, cinnamon, biscotti liquor, a

Fanelli Cafe (Fanelli’s to the initiated) is as reliable a spot as anywhere in the five boroughs. Presiding over the corner of Prince and Mercer Streets since the 1870s, it’s the city’s second-oldest continually operating food/drink establishment. As the world around it changes then changes again, Fanelli’s abides, a cozy, unpretentious space where the neighborhood can eat and drink. On any given night Fanelli’s has a crowd, the nature of which swings wildly depending on the day. Walk in on a Wednesday evening and you’re liable to find a few locals quietly attending a drink or a meal to the strains of casual conversation (the place doesn’t play music). But on a Saturday night, you might not even be able to walk in at all–the throng mashed right up against the door. If you manage to cross the threshold, you’ll find a narrow pair of rooms with old-world character: pressed-tin ceilings, dainty light fixtures, tile mosaic floors; a gorgeous, ornate back bar carved from dark wood and fitted with mirrors that hide the cold storage. On the wall, you’ll see the place’s history in posted liquor licenses, photos of boxers (including now retired bartender/raconteur/luminary Bob Bozic) and a subtle patina born of persistence. Drink-wise, you won’t be disappointed if you stick with classics: straight liquor, a cold beer; a martini, manhattan, negroni or their ilk. If it’s busy, you’ll be frustrated if your order is zeitgeisty, overcomplicated, or wishy-washy. Keep it simple. Service is br

In a neighborhood whose defining feature is esprit de corps born of inaccessibility, Sunny’s feels a bit like Redhook’s city hall. The waterfront location has been home to a bar since 1890, so over a century of people have passed through the doors. It may be inconvenient to get to, but that only adds to the feeling of rarity and sincerity and camaraderie to be found therein. Sunny’s is a maritime bar in its bones, but the mood is unforced and doesn’t define the place any more than its back room’s weekly bluegrass jams. Nets, buoys, and nautical knickknacks fade into the background behind a long, scarred bar that’s seen Red Hook through the decades. Seating is smattered throughout with tables and booths of different configurations and sizes, so you can just as easily have a romantic interlude or boisterous party here. On the street, wind off the water encourages layers nine months of the year, but there’s warmth to spare inside and a small courtyard in which smokers can take refuge. Drinks are straightforward and priced as such. Drafts from local heroes like Strong Rope, Threes, and Talea beside the domestic bottles and cans you’re picturing. There’s a small natural-leaning wine slate if that’s your pleasure. If you’re after a cocktail, something in the Dark & Stormy/Moscow Mule/Sea Breeze zone is hand-in-glove. If you’re wanting something more complex, go ahead and try it out on the night’s bartender who may come armed with cocktail acumen an itchy trigger finger, but don’t b

Rubirosa is a super buzzy, casual Nolita spot turning out tasty Italian dishes, a generous gluten-free menu, and 'grammable pizza. But are celeb endorsements and social-media heat a proper barometer for quality? On approach, you’ll clock staff filtering in and out past would-be diners who are either obvious tourists or look like a background casting call for Euphoria. Every inch of the interior (plus its curbside COVID shack) is maximized; the only way to fit more bodies would be by allowing standing room. If it weren’t so frenetic, you might appreciate the rustic touches and romantic lighting. Maybe that happens midweek. On weekends, however, it reads more hip bar than trattoria, with a dinner and bathroom line to match. Drinks are crowd-pleasers: a tidy craft-beer list, a decisive wine program with three house bottlings, and cocktails that are good, clean builds rather than mixological wonders. The Daisy (mezcal, Aperol, St-Germain, lime) drinks bright and balanced with a whisper of smoke. Classics are perfect; textbook, balanced, priced to encourage a second round. Service is gracious, friendly, and highly efficient; clearly tasked with moving seatings along. And I suppose this is the place to note Rubirosa’s entire parallel menu of vegan, nut-free, and gluten-free dishes, making it ideal for anyone with dietary restrictions. Food is dialed in. A trio of meatballs arrives tender and well-seasoned, smothered in the star of the night: sauce. The marinara is neither oversweet

There’s an episode from The Sopranos’ first season that I couldn’t shake after dinner at classic Williamsburg Italian restaurant, Bamonte’s: Teenage daughter Meadow comes down to breakfast and an age-old debate about evolving societal standards breaks out, the highschooler urging her parents to get with the times (“It’s the 90s…!”). “Yeah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” her father, Tony says and points to the window. “You see, out there it’s the 1990s, but in this house it’s 1954.” Cigarette machine by the door, valet parking outside, staff in black bow ties, a menu with $xx.95 pricing, a sign asking gentlemen to remove their hats; outside of Bamonte’s, it’s Williamsburg 2025, where real estate development is an unstoppable juggernaut, luxury is democratized, and gastronomy is as much science as it is art. Inside, however, it’s still 1950-something–when what now reads as quaint was the height of sophistication.  Bamontes is a living piece of cultural preservation that assumes if you’re here, you’re happy to play along. And who wouldn’t be? The room bears a self-aware swagger with white tablecloths, chandeliers that look retrofitted for electricity, velvety drapery in a Barolo palette. The bar hits the brief, too: cordial service, a touch stiff-backed but friendly; a crisp martini, a sturdy Manhattan, beers, wines, etc–nothing precious. And without leaning into stereotype, the servers (seasoned veterans who know the menu by heart) understand that you’re stepping out of your w

Ivan Orkin is a ramen master. It doesn’t matter if he’s a Jewish white man from Long Island; he’s traveled the globe to put in the hours, dial in his focus, and devote his life to close study. But at his Lower East Side flagship, Ivan Ramen, the culmination of all that scholarship isn’t some lofty exegesis. No, his treatise comes in a bowl, and you’re supposed to slurp it. The room nods to a ramen shop without leaning into cosplay. The concept is simple: run a ramen-ya through an NYC filter. And the space delivers: modern, clean, well-lit and open; whitewashed with pops of color from wall art, including a notably impressive backyard tile mosaic. Staff are attentive if not enthusiastic, quick with explanations and suggestions. The vibe is casual, more fun than romantic. The draft list keeps faith with Japan while the fridge leans American craft—a smart two-lane highway that’ll please most, from beer-weebs to cicerone-jabronis. If you’re in the market, the sake and soju lineup is compact but well-realized with a few quiet show-offs to please connoisseurs. And the wine list is tidy, thought through with enough options to pair with each broth. The standard tonkotsu ramen hits the right notes: tender chashu; a perfectly jammy egg; crunchy kikurage; bright scallion; black garlic for a smoky/earthy note; pickled mustard greens for an acid pop. Ivan’s signature rye noodles arrive perfectly cooked—pleasantly chewy and great at grabbing the soup without turning gummy. Each component is

Before the Lululemon faithful underwent baptism by bone broth, Shigetoshi “Naka” Nakamura was one of Japan’s four “Ramen Gods.” Beginning his Stateside tenure as the ramen rabbi behind Sun Noodle’s Ramen Lab (a proving ground for ramen creativity), Nakamura now channels his power through a tiny storefront at the Manhattan-side foot of the Williamsburg Bridge. The question is, can Nakamura convert believers? In case you forgot where you are, Nakamura’s name lords above the tiny room in old-school bulb signage. It’s table service, which is surprising considering the space’s setup, but the whole place is only about 18 seats, including a narrow bar against the wall, so nobody will wait long for anything. It’s spotless, quaint, functional–everything you need, nothing you don’t.  The tontoro bowl is Nakamura’s tonkatsu varietal–the standard pork-based bowl. While it does not come standard with an egg, one can be purchased for three extra dollars, and it’s worth it—the egg is perfectly tempered and well-seasoned. The broth is delicious; rich but not too salty—the kind you’ll chase to the dregs. Atop your ramen, you’ll find pickled mustard greens, bamboo shoots, and some leaf spinach. These add some light, fresh, acidic contrast and crunch to the broth, but once things are underway, they can get a little lost. The chashu pork is also delicious; fatty and tender, but the bowl only comes with a single slice. The noodles are excellent–not too thick, not too thin; perfectly springy with

Karazishi Botan is a casual pocket ramen shop on Smith Street with a sense of humor and a ton of creativity. Helmed by Fumihiro “Foo” Kanegae (ex-Ramen master at Ippudo), KB calls its approach “New York–style” and means it: seasonal, nontraditional, with an attitude. The room is a proper ramen-ya layout: a slim corridor with a counter and a few two-top tables. Larger groups, be forewarned: this may be better as a solo or date affair. Some light superhero theming throughout (repeated Venom posters, a Spider-Man action figure mid-climb up the wall) induced bemused smiles. Perennial fixture? Seasonal decor? Either way, it’s funny. Drinks include Japanese beers, sake, wine, shochu, whiskey. There isn’t much of a bar, though seasonal frozen concoctions are available. There are a few oddities: the fizzy, jelly-ish IKEZO Peach or Yuzu are more dessert than drink, recalling those fruit gelatin cups.  Service is friendly, patient—and though the menu asks you not to substitute, if you have dietary restrictions, staff will happily steer you through options. Still, the menu necessitates a careful read. Outside of classic tonkotsu, the bowls don’t necessarily default with standard inclusions (protein, egg, scallion, etc), so in most cases you must assemble a bowl à la carte. That works out fine if you’re prepared for it. And here’s where that close read comes in: Parmesan? A falafel ball? Garlic croutons? Prices run standard (around $20-$23/bowl), so why not take a chance? As for ramen: t

Rockefeller Center is a pretty stressful place overall. There’s just a ton going on all the time. Too much. But the team behind Frenchette has transplanted a fun downtown brasserie’s heart into Midtown’s hulking suit of Art Deco armor. Upon awakening, their creation (known as Le Rock) has arrived, serving up beautiful bread, gorgeous pâté, and excellent cocktails, ensuring you’re comfortable and having a nice time. It’s an astounding feat that feels impossible, but undeniable: Le Rock makes being in Rockefeller Center worth your while.  High ceilings, Art Deco bones, terrazzo underfoot, a bronzed glow that lights up faces. It’s a beautiful room, top to bottom. Tables do fit snug in the dining room, which means that the noise level can reach a din and all of a sudden you start getting visions of why Rockefeller Center was to be avoided. But if you’re blessed with a little space and a reasonably calm crowd, none of that matters. And lunch tends to present a more placid service, so you may want to plan on a visit midday. Cocktailing here is delightful: precise, clean, interesting, without reading convoluted. The Martinis Maison are the headline, and they do really feel right in this room: Super Sec (overproof gin, extra-dry and white vermouth) is crystalline clarity—mature and bracing. The Au Poivre folds in spicy green peppercorn notes that’ll wake up your senses. Classic builds are available if you don’t want to venture too far. And there are a few other fun concoctions featur

Pass the more obvious entrance to the listed address and walk into the sketchy-looking smoke shop. Immediately to your right, there is a set of stairs. Up that set of stairs and boom, you’re in your destination: Sushi 35 West. Confused? Is there a door to walk through? Some bait and switch; a pristine, hushed sushi temple made of wood, awaiting? Nope. Just a hallway. A service or utility hallway from the looks of it. The kind of place into which service staff at other establishments would duck to catch a smoke. To be clear: it’s not dirty. It’s just not… y’know, a restaurant. And y’know what? That’s fine.  This is maybe some of the best sushi in the city and that’s what you’re paying for. Not service or ambiance or comfort. Quality. That’s it. It’s an admirably honest and straightforward approach to dining: cutting out everything that isn’t directly related to the food. In this way, they’re really doing you a favor–sushi of this quality virtually anywhere else costs an arm and a leg. Order at the window, get your food, walk away. It’s luxury to-go. The only thing is, if you’re here and the tables are all full, you’d better have a backup plan for where to eat. Do not wait that hour on the train to get back to your Queens apartment to eat this. Seriously, do NOT do that. If anything, walk the few blocks to Bryant Park. The menu isn’t long. There’s no drinks menu, just some sodas and hot tea. If you’re not picky, there are pre-selected sets to streamline operations. Everything c

Dear New York City Bar Patrons, It’s me, your trusty bartender. We need to talk about our relationship since COVID. For a few of us, bartending is a career; maybe even a calling. For the rest, it’s a job. Regardless of the motivation, there’s no denying that the way we turn a buck occupies a unique space in American culture. “We work in a very interesting industry where, yeah, it’s all about fun. But, y’know, in that fun, there’s a lot of risk,” says Dan, 37, who is a 20-year service industry veteran and manager/owner/cocktail wizard at West Village spot, Bandits. “You have to look out for people as a bartender.” But COVID flipped the world upside down. That includes us. “One of the first rules [bartenders] always hear is, ’no politics, no, religion in a bar,’” Dan says. “That went out the window because we were forced to kind of be the liaisons of the rules.”   Photograph: Julien Levy | George bartending at Double Windsor Almost overnight, we were effectively deputized COVID compliance officers, shoved onto the front lines. “That created definitely a weird balance where we were forced–or asked to–police our customers a little extra in order to keep the liquor license,” Dan says. Caught between a deadly virus, the government’s inchoate mandates (some of them arbitrary and punitive), our bosses, and you, norms of affability and commiseration had to take a back seat. “We’re here to serve, but we’re nobody’s servant. Don’t agree? There’s the door.” “We used to call it lifegua