Giving thanks one week early: Port 41 edition

Thank God that dingy little corners of New York City still exist that house the likes of Port 41.



To hear some people describe Port 41, you'd think they had been hanging out upstairs with Dean Stockwell and Dennis Hopper at This Is It in Blue Velvet. Hardly. C'mon, the place has a Web site and flat-screen TVs showing sports, mind you. But! Depending on what time of day (they open at 10 a.m.!) you hit Port 41, conveniently located underneath the Port Authority bus ramp on the north side of 41st Street near Ninth Avenue, you may sense a menacing undercurrent. Which I find comforting. Anyway, any place located 100 feet from Port Authority will attract a variety of interesting characters. Like the hustlers with some great "I-just-got-out-of-prison-can-you-loan-me-$50-I'll-pay-you-back-next-week" stories. Or the people who wander in and stay a suspiciously long time in the men's room.



So there are plenty of attractions here. The beer is mostly reasonable. And, like Rudy's, there are free hot dogs. Which I've never actually tried. Not to mention the bartenders wear bikinis. (Yes, yes -- a few other places in Manhattan have bikini-clad bartenders...)




Has the place has been spruced up a little bit? There are now three 42-inch flat-screen TVs strategically placed around the bar. And weren't there more pool tables in that huge back room? And has there always been a neon coat check sign? (Usually not in a bar-reviewing mode when I'm here.) That's OK. Despite the newish additions, Port 41 still looks on the, uh, rundown side. Which I also find comforting. I'm sticking to one of the booths, by the way. The stuffed hippopotamus is still mounted on the wall. And hey, where did that MP3 juke come from? Ohh! Van Halen! Slayer! Perfect! Now if I could only see.



I hesitated writing about Port 41, which took over the space that once housed Tobacco Road and Savoy Road. But I want to appreciate this place while it's around. In any event, given my most frequent visits, it's hardly a secret. The after-work crowd was split between construction workers and back-slapping chuckleheads in shirts and ties. (And several women in office attire.) Everyone got along just fine, too.

Oh, there's this. My failed attempt at capturing a little slice of the evening, and the people singing along to Van Halen's "Unchained."



[The bikini photos are via Dive In New York City. It was too dark for my shots. Of the bartender]

Bonus!
Reviews of Port 41 by the always entertaining yelpers at Yelp:

I think I have officially found the shadiest bar in New York.. Death Metal blaring, the waitress looked like a meth head, was wearing a bikini top.. Another girl in a bikini top sat there getting felt up by this disgusting guy.. And when I say being felt up, it was close to nudity.. All the while he kept saying "I am the devil, you are an angel, do you want to f*ck the devil" He kept saying this over and over again.. He eventually slammed a bottle of beer on the ground and thats when I left.. This was at 4 pm mind you..
The place was completely dark, it was so weird.. If you are looking for trouble, I think you can find it there.. Its directly across the street from Port Authority, I couldnt imagine this place after dark..

One star? Jesus! This sounds like a rare six-out-of-five-star review!

Here's a more reasonable three-star review:

Probably one of the crappiest dive bars left in Midtown. So crappy it was entertaining. Some homeless guy was passed out in the booth behind us. The bartender was wearing a bikini top, and the crowd was entirely men and some looked like they were on drugs. Drink prices were on the cheap side.

And FIVE stars:

As you read my review of Port 41, please imagine that I am speaking these words to you in a heavy German accent and it is 1925 and the Velvet Underground's "Sister Ray" is playing on the jukebox.

I realize that this request is as strange as it is impossible, but that is Port 41: strange and impossible. You see, Port 41 should not be. Port 41 is the giant hippo head hanging on the wall. It is missing an eye, and it wants you to stay for another round. Port 41 is the homeless kid, who says he is a marine. He has dirty finger nails,and says he has a Polynesian wife he married on the telephone whom he has never seen.

This doesn't even begin to explain Port 41. Go there and you might find dullness, you might find horror, or you might find magic. Anything is possible.

Last call for the P & G

Brooks has the bad/sad news that the P & G Cafe will close at the end of the year. There's talk of another P & G at another location some day.

Previously on EV Grieve:
The P & G Cafe: An appreciation

Related:
Alex has some more NYC-related videos...including one from Depeche Mode that features the P & G.

One opinion (not mine) on the "Top Ten Dirtiest Bars in New York"

Meet Now Live's Nightlife and Bar Guide just featured the "Top Ten Dirtiest Bars in New York." Presented here in its entirety without comment. (Oh, as an aside, the post featured a photo of Mona's with the caption, "You can smell this place through your computer." However, Mona's wasn't on the list.)

You’ve all accidentally stumbled into a bar that’s so disgusting that you wouldn’t even send your ex-girlfriend’s rich, better looking new boyfriend to. That bar that smells like throw-up and poop on top of a freshly burnt cat? You know what I’m talking about. Here’s a rundown of those bars.

1. Mars Bar - East Village - Why? Let’s just say last time I was there, there was a used bloody condom in the window sill.

2. American Trash - Upper East Side - Why? This place is the unflushed turd left in the toilet at the frat house that is the Upper East Side. Go here to score drugs.

3. Billymark’s West - Chelsea - Why? This place was featured in a previous post giving it the title of “Weirdest Bar in Manhattan.” Loaded with local homeless people, this place is more shelter than hot nightspot.

4. Rawhide - Chelsea - Why? Rawhide is your typical rough ridin’ Gay joint. Fully equipped with big burly old men who drag tiny little boys out the door 24/7. Stay away or go have some fun…either way.

5. Welcome to the Johnson’s - Lower East Side - Why? The used, very old, “white trash” furniture is just plain musty. Don’t sit down or else you’ll get herpes.

6. McSorley’s Ale House - East Village - Why? This place is gross due to its age. One of the oldest bars in NYC, McSorley’s sports an old spongey bar top, 2 types of beer (Dark or Lite) and has an inch of sawdust on the floor. Tread lightly because you may step on an old drunk that went missing 2 nights ago.

7. J Mac’s - Hell’s Kitchen - Why? J Mac’s is a dingy little place you can stop off at on 57th street right before you head out on the West Side Highway. Other than that? Not really sure why anyone would go here.

8. Blarney Cove - East Village - Why? Just walk by this place and peak your head inside. That’s about as far as you want to go with this place.

9. Down the Hatch - Greenwich Village - Why? Although this IS one of my favorite Saturday drinkin’ spots, DTH is pretty dirty. The fact that it is in a grungy basement doesn’t help at all.

10. Pussycat Lounge - Financial District - Why? Part awful strip joint, part stink hole, the PCL is a great place to die. No one will ever find you.

Honorable mention: Jimmy’s Corner & Coyote Ugly.

Of course, Mars Bar and the Blarney Cove are two EV Grieve favorites...

Blarney Cove memories

Jeremiah captures the spirit of the beloved Blarney Cove on 14th Street today. Another EV Grieve favorite. Reading his post reminded me of one of my first visits, whenever that was. (Also, seems as if my dive-bar anecdotes all involve food.) Three of us went in during some off time in late January one year. Only one other person was at the bar, way down by the door. It was the first time that I'd seen this bartender. And he certainly didn't know us. He was friendly as all the BC folks are. After a few rounds, he asked us if we were hungry. Not really. Still, he said he had some food that he could put out for us. "Oh, thank you very much. That's very nice of you. We're just not hungry at the moment." Perfect! With that, he bolted down the basement steps and gingerly came back up carrying a six-foot party sub wrapped in plastic. Where this thing had been stored (and for how long), we didn't know. With the care of, say, a paleontologist, he unwrapped the beastly thing. I may be wrong about this, but I swear after the unveiling the bartender did a little "ta-da!" Keeping with the paleontology theme, the bread was as hard as a fossil. We politely nibbled at it and thanked him. And ordered another round.

Appreciating a classic

Given the news that the Holland Bar may be closed for good, it's time to tip our hat to some of the like-minded bars in the city. (Dive bars. Lonely old man bars. Whatever you prefer!) Such as the well-traveled Subway Inn.








Related:
Ken Mac has some excellent shots of the Inn here.

Hope for the Emerald Inn

Steve Cuozzo had this (third item) in his column yesterday:

All might not be lost for the Emerald Inn, the beloved Irish pub at 205 Columbus Ave. that's losing its lease in May.

As The Post recently reported, the cozy little bar, which has been there for 66 years, can't afford an increase to $350,000 year in rent - more than twice what it currently pays.

Owner Charlie Campbell and legions of regulars were heartbroken.

But Walker & Malloy broker Rafe Evans, who's negotiated scores of Upper West Side retail leases, said he's willing to help Campbell find another location nearby.

"They have expressed interest in keeping the legend alive," Evans said.

But it won't be on Columbus Avenue.

"They can only afford to be on a side street, maybe West 72nd Street," Evans said, where rents are lower.

Previously on EV Grieve:
Farewell to the Emerald Inn

Farewell to the Emerald Inn

This just makes me sick. The Emerald Inn on Columbus Avenue (near 69th Street) will be closing next spring. Rent for the bar, which opened in 1943, "is more than doubling" to $350,000 a year "for the cozy, 800-square-foot saloon."

And get this: Owner Charlie Campbell, whose grandfather opening the place when FDR was in office, "got the bad news when he saw the location advertised for lease on the Web site of real estate brokerage CB Richard Ellis."

Here's some of the report from the Post:

The cozy inn, with a few booths and faded pictures on the walls, was once well known as a "beer and a shot" joint.

In the mid-1980s, Columbus Avenue was a rough stretch of blue-collar taverns, bodegas and hardware stores, with few of today's high-end boutiques and beaneries.

But the Upper West Side's whirlwind gentrification changed everything, and the Emerald Inn today draws mostly upscale customers.

Among them yesterday was Michael Morfit, 46, a partner in Lighthouse Financial, who said he comes in twice a week.

"We used to have all these ma-and-pa shops," Morfit lamented over a couple of Buds. "Now all you have is big companies like Circuit City and Best Buy, because smaller companies can't afford the rents."

Well, I'll spare you from yammering away about how much I like the Emerald Inn. It's expected to close in May. Go and enjoy while you can... and stop by the P&G while you're at it.

A touch of Blarney

Not sure what to make of the stickers for EV Grieve favorite the Blarney Cove being plastered around the neighborhood. The "I love to party" message seems awfully fraternityish for the Blarney Cove. (ED note: Duh.) Unless they're trying to drum up some more business. Which I understand. That stretch on 14th Street between A and B is up for grabs in spots. Still.

An appreciation: The P & G Cafe

Found myself on the Upper West Side late yesterday afternoon. So I stopped by the beloved P & G Cafe — the family-owned saloon that has graced the corner of 73rd and Amsterdam since 1942. Perfection. The front door was open. A small group of regulars were joking around with each other. The Yankees game was on. (Well, the Yankees are hardly perfection these days...)

Nothing new to report on the bar's fate. Latest rumor is still a Baby Gap. There has been talk of relocation. I didn't ask any questions. Was just there to enjoy it while I can. Like-minded fellows have also paid their respects in the past, including Jeremiah and Lost City.

Appreciating NYC's drinking past (and present)

I enjoyed Off the Presses author Robert Simonson's article in the Sun yesterday titled "Looking at New York's Liquid Past." Here's his look at Times Square:

Walk to Broadway and down two blocks south to the Crossroads of the World. Unsurprisingly, a lot of drinking history occurred at this intersection. On the southeast corner of Seventh Avenue and 42nd Street, you can still see the Mansard-roofed beauty that once was the Knickerbocker Hotel. The bar was so favored a watering hole of uptown swells in the first two decades of the 20th century that it was called the 42nd Street Country Club. (It was also the original home of Parrish's "Old King Cole" oil painting.) Its main importance in cocktail history, though, lies in the once-prevalent claim that its head bartender, Martini di Arma di Taggia, invented the martini in 1912. This is balderdash, since mentions of the drink had been appearing in print for decades prior to that. But give ol' di Taggia a quick salute, anyway.

Directly opposite Broadway was the Hotel Metropole, another popular way station for actors, politicians, and the like. Its house cocktail was the Metropolitan, which is basically a Manhattan, but with brandy standing in for the rye. It hasn't retained the fame the Manhattan has but is still a damned decent drink.

He also provides some nice details about current haunts such as the Algonquin and King Cole Bar.