Saturday, October 17, 2009
"Entering the East Village come weekends is like wandering into Dante’s Eighth Circle of hell..."
A few East Village-related items from the "Best of Manhattan" issue of NYPress this week...
Best East Village Bar to Get Trashed and Evade the B-and-T Hordes: International Bar
120 1st Ave. betw. St. Marks Pl. & E. 7th St., 212-777-1643
Entering the East Village come weekends is like wandering into Dante’s Eighth Circle of hell, in which hair-sprayed ladies and six-pack men lick, suck and swallow their way into new, louder personalities that we’d like to pop in the mouth. Thank heavens for the neighborhood’s sole refuge, International Bar. In the dark, railroad-car confines, we love plugging metal into the juke and popping a squat at the bar — there’s often a seat, no matter the night. And then we order the combo that’s as deadly as fugu: a can of Schaefer and a two-ounce blast of sweet well whiskey, priced at $4.
Best Headstone for the Corpse of the Bowery: DBGB Kitchen and Bar
299 Bowery at E. 1st St., 212-933-5300
Celebrity chef Daniel Boulud may not be the first inspiration-starved millionaire to burnish up his Bowery project with the memory of punks, but his antiseptic new bistro, DBGB (an awkward pun on CBGB’s,) definitely makes him the No. 1 offender. Standing on the corner of the Bowery and E. First Street, it perfectly embodies the death of the punk rock idyll and the wide cursive script painted around its steel-framed gray windows quite literally gives the restaurant the look of a cemetery — or an up-market option in a Rochester Mall.
Best Bar Idea with the Worst Execution: Superdive
200 Ave. A betw. E. 12th & E. 13th Sts., 212-448-4854
Tableside keg service, democratic access to the soundtrack, mix-your-own cocktails—what could go wrong? In a word, everything. The ideal form of Superdive — which brings what we can only imagine to be the worst of the Midwestern college town drinking experience to the East Village — is bespoilt by human nature. Douchy dudes drink until they get shouty and shovy and play hip-hop ironically at unsafe levels. Mix that with girls who are impressed, and you’ve got a problem.