Julien Levy

Your out-of-towner friend wants “something cool,” your date wants ambiance, and you want some local-insider-knowledge cred—NYC speakeasy time. Sure, the trend peaked years ago, when people were wearing suspenders and waxing mustaches and riding fixed-gear bikes for some ungodly reason. Back then, pretensions ran high. But today, it’s all way less serious. The idea works a little better now, tends to be handled with more self-awareness and less self-righteousness. And look: there are no speakeasies. And nothing is truly secret in New York. I mean, you’re reading this. Still, some places effectively toy with the “speakeasy” concept and manage to pull it off, and that’s what we’re here to run down. RECOMMENDED: The best bars in NYC right now There are plenty of bars with unmarked entrances—ones that feel “secret,” not because they’re perpetrating a deliberate trick but just because they’re down a staircase or off a subway platform. Some of these are my favorite bars, places I’m always happy to highlight. But being hard to find does not a speakeasy make. We’ve tried to stick with separating the inconspicuous from places that truly perform a bit of sleight-of-hand. Updated January 5, 2026: Since we last toured the speakeasy-ish landscape, a few doors have quietly shut and a few new ones have flung wide open. We’re missing standout bars like Nothing Really Matters and Angel Share in this go-around, yes. But we had some tough choices to make if we were to bring you real variety and

Brooklyn’s culinary landscape is one of the finest in the world, hosting many of the best restaurants and bars in New York City and beyond. The borough has so many excellent pizza places, BBQ and brunch options, one could spend a lifetime trying them all. If you need a place to get started, look here and peruse through our favorite 23 places for a quick bite, sit-down dinner, or fine dining affair.   RECOMMENDED: Full guide to the best restaurants in NYC December 2025: This list hadn't been touched in some time, and was in need of quite an overhaul. We added some of our favorites that we went back to over the course of 2025, including Theodora, Pitt's, LaRina Pastificio & Vino and L'Industrie. We also added some stellar stars, including Kellogg's Diner, Sailor, Taqueria Ramirez and Win Son Bakery. We removed Clover Hill, Purple Yam, Olmstead, Rangoon and Ugly Baby as they closed. We also removed Agi’s Counter, Atti, Bamboo Garden, Birds of a Feather, Claro, Em Vietnamese Bistro, Govinda's Vegetarian Lunch, Gus’s Chop House, Haenyeo, Hart’s, Inga’s Bar, Kokomo, La Vara, L&B Spumoni Gardens, Nura, Ras Plant Based, Reyes Deli & Grocery, Rana Fifteen, Sofreh, Shan, Win Son and Vinegar Hill House. For more on our editorial policies and ethics, feel free to check out how we review at Time Out.

New York City is home to every kind of drinking establishment; there is no single idea of a New York bar. And since there are simply so many of them, that same principle can be extrapolated and applied specifically to cocktail bars; New York is home to every different conceivable type and kind you can imagine and a few you couldn’t possibly. To make a list of New York City’s best cocktail bars is, in some ways, an impossible task–the city is silly with bartender heroes living incognito; people who cut their teeth ice shaving and dry-shaking and garnishing with tweezers but choose to work in a dive bar and charge you peanuts just because.  RECOMMENDED: The best bars in New York All of that said, wide stratification across class and style means that standards must inherently exist. And though said standards are neither hard-and-fast nor necessarily a measure of a place’s overall value, we can–nay, must–recognize when a bar’s (and its tenders’) work and care and thought and technique consistently yield excellence. Bartending is hard work. But cocktail bartending is almost absurd; each element and technique must be applied in the correct sequence with the correct timing for an often-drunk audience late at night. It takes vision and cunning and tenacity. So today we celebrate them, the bartenders, and the places where they apply their skills, without which we, the drinking public, would not be able to well and truly luxuriate.  How we curate and review at Time Out

Do you hear what I hear? Glasses clinking, stools sliding across the floor, the murmur of a crowd. Why, what did you think I was gonna say? Christmas means wildly different things to different people: faithful friends who’re dear being near, stuffy in-laws and itchy sweaters, Chinese food and a movie. So if you want Christmas to mean absconding to a holiday-agnostic dive day-of, or spending the oh so holy night with your buds over pizza and beer, or going Christmas HAM on a seasonal cocktail or six–you’re in the right place. We’ve got a list of bars in NYC open on Christmas.Mind you: when we say “bars in NYC open on Christmas,” in some cases that means the eve alone, in others, eve and day both. But whether you’re looking for dives, hotel bars, cocktail-meccas, piano bars, Irish pubs, pizza places, gay bars, themed pop-ups, beer halls; affordable to splurge, Bronx to Flushing, naughty to nice–we’ve got you. It’s true that hotel bars are almost always open, and your neighborhood spot may just decide to be open at the last minute–there is no one-size-fits-all solution for the thousands of bars in NYC. “Open on Christmas” isn’t an exhaustive designation as much as encouragement to reserve guessing for what’s wrapped under the tree. If you’re strapped for an itinerary with visitors or itching to indulge your inner (pre-epiphany) Scrooge, look no further: here are 13 bars in NYC that are open on Christmas.Updated November 2025: We’ve tried to branch way out this year, giving you a

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.

George Bang Bang is the kind of place you end up at when dinner in Koreatown runs late and somebody says, “Wanna see something cool?” You enter through a disguised wall at the back of the unassuming (and excellent in its own right) Okdongsik. Then everything changes. The place is shadowy, moody, stylized—it’s all very intentional. There’s a long, low bar, red-lit shelving, lots of dark wood, and oil lamps. You’ll want to take a photo, but somehow the place is so cool that pulling out your phone feels gauche. It’s not a shouting bar; it’s too composed for that. The bartenders take their work seriously and the product shows.  The menu is movie-titled and ingredient-forward, with a sweet-and-botanical streak: mezcal and Korean pear shrub in the Old Boy; gin brightened with pineapple, beet, cucumber, and lemon in Emma’s Wife; fig-infused mezcal with pandan and Campari in Juliet of the Spirits. There are many Japanese bottles of whiskey if you’re into that. And if you want food, there are snacks: honey butter chips, tater tots, shumai, skewers, and pan con tomate. As an after-dinner destination to unwind, it’s perfect: plush, attentive, and specific about what it’s serving, right down to the last aromatic garnish.

The Woo Woo is an adults-only speakeasy close enough to Times Square that any New Yorker will get the ick. But if you can get over yourself, you ring a doorbell, speak the password (which you can find on their site), and then you’re almost there. You first have to pass through the shop, which is, to be clear, a sex shop replete with sex toys. All this before anything resembling a drink happens. If you’re bashful, this place isn’t for you.  The transition is the whole gag: a graffiti-lined descent, a red curtain, some neon light and that little thrill of being a wee bit daring and naughty. It’s supposedly '80s Times Square themed. I didn’t find it to be that exactly, but I get what it’s trying to evoke, and I appreciate it. Not everything we remember fondly was actually good. The schtick here is indeed fun to inspect and will definitely garner some giggles. Once you’re actually inside the bar, things do tone down. There’s a bunch of little tables to sit at, some lounge seating, and a bar with stools that have backs. It’s low-lit and comfy, campy fun, a gaze back at the Deuce from a safe remove. Yeah, it’s whitewashing and romanticizing the shit out of a time and place. But what is history if not grist for the mill? This is what Times Square would look like in an alternate universe wherein Disney still took over but retained the existing businesses/working people and just kind of spruced it all up. The staff keep it moving with a straight face and a light touch, which is exactl

The Long Island Bar has the outward trappings of an American diner, with a chrome-and-humming neon facade, neatly aligned booths, and Art Deco touches. At one time, it was exactly that. And it could so easily be just another new-American retrofit, adding liquor and luring influencers. Instead, it pulls off something more ambitious and harder to define: a destination bar that serves delicious comfort food, pristine cocktails, and an enviable neighborhood spirit. The ethos guiding the room’s decor isn’t subtle, but that doesn’t make it any less appealing. Leather booths and barstools and a beautiful polished-wood L-shaped bar–the vintage styling here feels earnest. This may be down to the place’s longtime status as a neighborhood favorite, even if it had once been something else entirely. Call it nostalgia, call it soul–whatever it is, the vibe is working. Behind the bar, classic cocktails reign. They’re beautifully made, clean, and exactly the way you want them. Flashiness and trendiness and novelty hold virtually no sway here; it’s all about timeless standards and sincerity. The food is similarly ambivalent to whatever’s going on in the city’s ‘hipper’ corners; the deviled eggs, burger, and fried cheese curds could be found on any greasy-spoon’s menu but are executed here with the kind of clear-eyed intention that reminds one of why they’ve become so ubiquitous.

Entering Paradise Lost is like tumbling through a portal, arriving in a bar located in Pee-wee Herman’s nightmare… in the best way. It’s an upscale psychobilly tiki lounge with well-realized design, good music, and a massive menu of well-crafted cocktails. Despite the staff’s uniform of ripped-denim vests, the bar functions much like many other upscale cocktail establishments, i.e., it doesn’t take reservations, has standing room only, and doesn't pull pints of cheap domestic beer. As such, comparison to a dive would be disingenuous, but compared to New York’s other upscale cocktail bars, the place has a decidedly punk rock attitude. The “tropical hellscape” aesthetic does, anyway. The staff are welcoming and laid-back. And the menu is well-organized with clearly labeled ingredients, allergens, and intoxication factors. Drinks are mostly rum and fruit-forward. But outside of the standard tiki classics, the menu is populated by cheeky inventions featuring out-of-the-box ingredients like the Chaos Magick, featuring rum, coffee, pineapple, and ras el hanout. This complex, fragrant, and totally novel concoction packs a punch. Many cocktails arrive smoking, aflame, or topped with kitschy toy garnishes. Commitment to camp allows the cocktailing to take big wacky swings and makes each visit feel whimsical. The food plays it much safer with tasty, if not expected, sandwiches and finger foods. Then again, Spam musubi is always welcome. Prices are in special-occasion territory and keep

Double Chicken Please is a double act. Up front, Free Range is a straightforward LES bar. Venture deeper for The Coop–inner sanctum of cocktail invention. Here, the brief is blurring the line between food and drink. While it’s more than a gimmick, confirming that firsthand will likely require a long wait. Service is brisk up front and convivial in back. No surprise there. Actually getting into the place is the shocker–reservations for The Coop are booked solid. This reveals the true purpose of the front room: a waiting area for the back. You could do worse. Still, eager drinkers stake out a place in line well in advance of opening, so prepare yourself.  DCP’s signature is not deconstruction but transliteration; familiar foods are the cocktails, or is it vice versa? Waldorf Salad, French Toast, Thai Curry–each cocktail is equal parts technique, humor, and ingenuity. “Cold Pizza” is a tequila-based cocktail that hits tomato, basil, and bready notes with a background parmesan funk, served up. It may not work on paper, but the place’s slew of awards proves the practice. They’ve got classics, too, which are also excellent. If you’re after actual food, they serve a small but enticing menu of sandwiches and snacks in both front and back. The chicken sando is the signature, but the Bolognese Grilled Cheese is as tasty as you suspect it is.  If standard cocktailing feels stale, a trip to Double Chicken Please is invigorating. But either show up early or make peace with whiling time aw

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

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

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

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

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

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