More than a month ago, as the last New York summer of my youth was drawing to a close, I wanted to have one more bottomless brunch -- and who better to go with than my best friend in high school, S.H.? Times have changed -- we went to different colleges, and see each other not nearly as often as we would like -- but this was what I wanted for my Last Brunch.
We were originally trying to go to some French place, but we got started late, and it closed early, so we found ourselves at Cafe Cortadito. Again, this was more than a month ago, so this entry will be disappointingly short and unfunny, but the key points that I remember are:
1) CLUB MUSIC. Club music was BLASTING the entire time, setting a mood entirely at odds with a peaceful Sunday morning and the entire institution at brunch. Like, the kind of music whose intros make you want to do jump up and do shots. It was funny and then it was annoying and then it was funny again.
2) The mimosas were potent, but came in very slender glasses. This place can get you drunk, but you have to work quickly. I think the food was good? Again, this was a while ago, so I don't quite remember.
3) When we left, S.H. left by jumping out of the window onto the sidewalk.
Goodbye, New York!
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Flight 151
I'm writing this waaaay after the fact, but I'd just like to let you all know that you should all go to Flight 151 on TUESDAYS, when you can flip a coin to see whether you pay $3 or $0 for a pint, which is pretty much a win-win. I had heard about this great, great deal from someone, and so when my friend Z. came down all the way from Burlington to visit me, I convinced her and her friend S. to come check it out.
Unfortunately, Flight 151 has nothing really going for it except its awesome deals -- awesome not necessarily in the sense that they're cheap (which they are!) but just because they bring an element of play and fun into it: the coin-toss deal is on Tuesdays, a spin-the-wheel-to-see-what-kind-of-shot-you-get game takes places some other nights, etc. Otherwise, it's got a pretty crappy atmosphere (very bland and sportsbar-sy), and its deals are limited to the bar, for which reason we had to stand for part of our night. THAT SAID, the Tuesday deal was a success! We all three did the coin toss three times: S. and I lost twice, which meant that we paid $6 for 3 pints, and Z. lost only once, which meant that she paid $3 for 3 pints!! That's $1 a pint!!!!
We didn't get very drunk, because we all had things to do the next day, but this place could definitely get you drunk. At least on Tuesdays.
Unfortunately, Flight 151 has nothing really going for it except its awesome deals -- awesome not necessarily in the sense that they're cheap (which they are!) but just because they bring an element of play and fun into it: the coin-toss deal is on Tuesdays, a spin-the-wheel-to-see-what-kind-of-shot-you-get game takes places some other nights, etc. Otherwise, it's got a pretty crappy atmosphere (very bland and sportsbar-sy), and its deals are limited to the bar, for which reason we had to stand for part of our night. THAT SAID, the Tuesday deal was a success! We all three did the coin toss three times: S. and I lost twice, which meant that we paid $6 for 3 pints, and Z. lost only once, which meant that she paid $3 for 3 pints!! That's $1 a pint!!!!
We didn't get very drunk, because we all had things to do the next day, but this place could definitely get you drunk. At least on Tuesdays.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Tre - $21.95
YOU GUYS, JOE IS GONE.
HE'S GONE! The Fulbright Program and the Republic of Colombia have joined forces to pull him away from our magical summer of endless mimosas, and have, as of exactly one week ago, received him in their warm and character-building embrace. It's been hard, for me. I don't know whom to text when I can't sleep, or when someone says something ridiculous on Facebook, or when I want to get absolutely wasted for as little money as possible.
It's been hard.
But New York marches on.
This weekend, my childhood friend L. came to visit! I decided that brunch was in order, as we hadn't seen each other since the previous summer (!), and many life events had occurred to both of us, and really, nothing breaks the long-time-no-see barrier like a few liters of champagne. Right?
We decided to go for Tre, which Yelp describes as "Romantic, Trendy, Casual, Intimate."(Seriously, click on the link. You can get the vibe of the place from looking at that website for .2 seconds.) Their bottomless brunch is Saturdays and Sundays, and has a 90-minute limit; however, you can do those 90 minutes any time between 12 pm and 4 pm, which was good for us, since it was already 2:30. We walked in, and the waitress greeted us, seated us, and gave us our menus.
The first thing I noticed was that the menus were prix fixe, brunch drinks included. That is, there was no "bottomless brunch" option. They assumed that you were going to do it. That was part of the brunch. I had a good feeling about this place.
(The second thing I noticed was that there were only two vegetarian options, which is kind of unusual for New York. Nevertheless, when I requested that they replace the meat in my meal with vegetables, they were very accommodating!)
The mimosas were...fancy? What makes mimosas such a delightful morning drink, I think, is the sunniness they get from the two-sweet, too-bright orange juice that our country (myself included) has grown up loving; but these were good, too: more of a dull orange, much less sweet, and tasting strongly of champagne. Very strongly of champagne. We had about two mimosas each before the food got there. We had not yet eaten anything that day.
"I'm super-drunk, oh my god," L. said. "I'm so sorry." She took another drink from her mimosa. "No," she declared, after thinking about it. "I'm not sorry."
We ate our meals (which were super-yummy!) and talked and talked and talked. The waitress was generous but not always attentive with the refills, which I normally would have been anxious about (90-minute limit!), but after I got into an animated conversation with a stranger while waiting in line for the bathroom, I realized that the refills were just right. I did ask for one last refill after she brought us the check; she obliged, but seemed a bit grumpy about it.
L. and I left the restaurant, and ended up sitting in a park for a little while. She called her boyfriend (who's in the navy!); I spoke to him for a bit, but I don't really remember what we talked about. He had a very nice voice! Then we heard "Call Me Maybe" blasting from a nearby bar, and so of course I insisted that we go in. L., kindly, agreed.
The bar happened to be Epstein's bar, which itself is pretty cheap (!) and EVEN OFFERS THEIR OWN AYCD BRUNCH -- FOR ONLY $13.50! I had received a tip-off about Epstein's before, but I was thrilled to have stumbled upon it by accident! We sat at the bar. L. got a beer. I didn't have any cash left. I kept trying to buy something with my two dollars, but the bartender kept scoffing at me. Finally, the other bartender, making his busy way down the bar, looked at me, shook his head, pulled out a Corona and slammed it down in front of me. A free beer! I used one of my dollars to tip him. He laughed.
Eventually, L. said, "Do you wanna go?" and so we left. Her sandals were hurting her, and she had a blister on her left foot, so we switched sandals, and walked west, similarly-mismatched.
"You're, like, my sister," I said. "You know?"
"Totally," L. said.
When we hit Houston, we went into Crate & Barrel. Why did we go into Crate & Barrel? I have no idea. I don't remember. We lay down on some of the beds and then we sat on a couch for a long time. "Can I help you, ladies?" various salespeople would say to us, and we, grinning, shook our heads. I had no idea what was happening. I didn't care. I was having a great time.
We left at some point (?) and bought some french fries and ate them and went home.
HE'S GONE! The Fulbright Program and the Republic of Colombia have joined forces to pull him away from our magical summer of endless mimosas, and have, as of exactly one week ago, received him in their warm and character-building embrace. It's been hard, for me. I don't know whom to text when I can't sleep, or when someone says something ridiculous on Facebook, or when I want to get absolutely wasted for as little money as possible.
It's been hard.
But New York marches on.
This weekend, my childhood friend L. came to visit! I decided that brunch was in order, as we hadn't seen each other since the previous summer (!), and many life events had occurred to both of us, and really, nothing breaks the long-time-no-see barrier like a few liters of champagne. Right?
We decided to go for Tre, which Yelp describes as "Romantic, Trendy, Casual, Intimate."(Seriously, click on the link. You can get the vibe of the place from looking at that website for .2 seconds.) Their bottomless brunch is Saturdays and Sundays, and has a 90-minute limit; however, you can do those 90 minutes any time between 12 pm and 4 pm, which was good for us, since it was already 2:30. We walked in, and the waitress greeted us, seated us, and gave us our menus.
The first thing I noticed was that the menus were prix fixe, brunch drinks included. That is, there was no "bottomless brunch" option. They assumed that you were going to do it. That was part of the brunch. I had a good feeling about this place.
(The second thing I noticed was that there were only two vegetarian options, which is kind of unusual for New York. Nevertheless, when I requested that they replace the meat in my meal with vegetables, they were very accommodating!)
The mimosas were...fancy? What makes mimosas such a delightful morning drink, I think, is the sunniness they get from the two-sweet, too-bright orange juice that our country (myself included) has grown up loving; but these were good, too: more of a dull orange, much less sweet, and tasting strongly of champagne. Very strongly of champagne. We had about two mimosas each before the food got there. We had not yet eaten anything that day.
"I'm super-drunk, oh my god," L. said. "I'm so sorry." She took another drink from her mimosa. "No," she declared, after thinking about it. "I'm not sorry."
We ate our meals (which were super-yummy!) and talked and talked and talked. The waitress was generous but not always attentive with the refills, which I normally would have been anxious about (90-minute limit!), but after I got into an animated conversation with a stranger while waiting in line for the bathroom, I realized that the refills were just right. I did ask for one last refill after she brought us the check; she obliged, but seemed a bit grumpy about it.
L. and I left the restaurant, and ended up sitting in a park for a little while. She called her boyfriend (who's in the navy!); I spoke to him for a bit, but I don't really remember what we talked about. He had a very nice voice! Then we heard "Call Me Maybe" blasting from a nearby bar, and so of course I insisted that we go in. L., kindly, agreed.
The bar happened to be Epstein's bar, which itself is pretty cheap (!) and EVEN OFFERS THEIR OWN AYCD BRUNCH -- FOR ONLY $13.50! I had received a tip-off about Epstein's before, but I was thrilled to have stumbled upon it by accident! We sat at the bar. L. got a beer. I didn't have any cash left. I kept trying to buy something with my two dollars, but the bartender kept scoffing at me. Finally, the other bartender, making his busy way down the bar, looked at me, shook his head, pulled out a Corona and slammed it down in front of me. A free beer! I used one of my dollars to tip him. He laughed.
Eventually, L. said, "Do you wanna go?" and so we left. Her sandals were hurting her, and she had a blister on her left foot, so we switched sandals, and walked west, similarly-mismatched.
"You're, like, my sister," I said. "You know?"
"Totally," L. said.
When we hit Houston, we went into Crate & Barrel. Why did we go into Crate & Barrel? I have no idea. I don't remember. We lay down on some of the beds and then we sat on a couch for a long time. "Can I help you, ladies?" various salespeople would say to us, and we, grinning, shook our heads. I had no idea what was happening. I didn't care. I was having a great time.
We left at some point (?) and bought some french fries and ate them and went home.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Continental
Everyone's seen it. Sandwiched in between a McDonald's and a falafel place (formerly Chickpea, now Tahini), Continental's banner proudly proclaims:
5 SHOTS OF ANYTHING $10
ALL DAY / ALL NIGHT (yes, we're serious)
Back in high school, when I still had enough dignity left to enable me to have a fully-intact sense of irony, I told myself (and anyone who would listen) that I couldn't wait to be 21 and just, like, go in there at like, 8 A.M., and like slam $20 on the table and get 10 shots and just like, shoot them and leave. Ha! Ha! Ha! Who would do that! Ha! Ha! Ha! How ridiculous!
Cut to the present:
When Joe and I were brainstorming places to check out this week, I said, "...You know that place on Astor Place? Where you can get, like, twenty shots for like, five dollars?"
(I've always had an overactive imagination.)
"Um, I think so," Joe said, carefully (as he says most things). "I've seen this place on Astor Place where you can get five shots for ten dollars. Are we thinking of the same place?"
"Probably not," I insisted. "I don't think so."
"Like, it's really sketchy-looking?" Joe pressed on. "Really, really sketchy-looking?"
"It's like, next to a pizza place?" I said. "Or it is a pizza place? Or it's next to like some sort of fast food? Dark exterior? Huge banner?"
"I think we're thinking of the same place," said Joe.
We were.
Continental's website gives you the "Top 10 Reasons to Drink at Continental," of which my three favorite are: What happens at Continental - stays at Continental, Nothing rhymes with Continental, and Iggy Pop drank here. "Do you think," I asked Joe, as we walked up from a Chinatown dinner toward Astor Place, "that we might be the first people ever to go there on purpose?"
"Ha. You mean, like, instead of stumbling into it?" Joe said. After a few moments of reflection, he said, "Yeah -- we could actually be the first people to make plans and like, go out of our way to go there."
We were silent.
"It's for our quest, though," he said.
I nodded, resolutely. Every one of our friends whom we had told of our intentions had shrieked with stunned laughter upon realizing just which place we were talking about. "The one on Astor Place?" they'd said. "The really sketchy one? Have fun!"
We were to meet our valiant friend M.B. there at 9:30, and so we killed some time in the St. Marks Bookshop, and then got some $4 beer at the bar across St. Marks from Continental ("$4 is cheap," said Joe, "but definitely not cheap enough.") Finally, when the time came, we walked over.
There was, of all things, a bouncer at the door. We presented our I.D.s and entered the bar, which was very, very dark. Very dark. The only light came from a jukebox on one side of the room, in front of which there seemed to be a perpetual small crowd. No matter who it was, they were always having fun. We grabbed a table (it was a very wobbly table), sat down, and waited for our waitress.
"Hi, what can I get you guys?" she asked.
"Uh, outside it says '$10 for 5 shots of anything'?" Joe ventured. When she nodded, he said, "Is that just like, any kind of liquor?" She nodded again, and he said, "I'd like five shots of rum, please."
"Whiskey," I said.
"Vodka," said M.B.
To me, she said, "Is Jack Daniels okay?"
Having expected a much, much worse brand of whiskey, it took me a few moments before I stammered, "Uh -- uh, yes, yeah!"
"Bacardi?" she said to Joe. He nodded. "Absolut?" she said to M.B.
"Yes, please," he said.
She left. I said, "Those are much better choices than I was expecting."
The shots came. They looked like this:
We drank all of our shots. We ordered another five, which we split three ways (Joe and M.B. had two each; I had one). We talked earnestly and passionately about healthcare and teachers' salaries. Next to us, jukebox-users came and went, always singing loudly. At one point, I excused myself to use the bathroom, only to find that I couldn't figure out how the sink worked! I stared in the mirror, my hands full of soap. I examined the faucet, searching for a button. I waved my hands everywhere in the sinkbowl, hoping to activate some motion sensor. Nothing!
Maybe the sink was broken! I stumbled out of the women's bathroom, and pushed my way into the men's. No water, there, either! I would have to have soapy hands. I would have to have soapy hands forever! I contemplated my fate, sighed, left the men's bathroom, and then decided to give the women's bathroom one last shot -- and, somehow, it worked! I put my hands into the sink, and water poured out! Hands cleansed and lightly-perfumed, I cheerfully headed back upstairs.
We left drunk and happy (the Pixies were playing), and went to go get some food: DIY froyo (bad idea: mine was very, very lopsided, and my toppings were completely arbitrary) and fancy fries. I would highly recommend Continental: this place will get you drunk so cheaply, and off of decent liquor! I suppose the ambiance is terrible, which sort of begs the question, Why wouldn't you just sit at home and drink your own Jack?, but if you're with a group of people, and need to quickly and cheaply get drunk, Continental is perfect.
5 SHOTS OF ANYTHING $10
ALL DAY / ALL NIGHT (yes, we're serious)
Back in high school, when I still had enough dignity left to enable me to have a fully-intact sense of irony, I told myself (and anyone who would listen) that I couldn't wait to be 21 and just, like, go in there at like, 8 A.M., and like slam $20 on the table and get 10 shots and just like, shoot them and leave. Ha! Ha! Ha! Who would do that! Ha! Ha! Ha! How ridiculous!
Cut to the present:
When Joe and I were brainstorming places to check out this week, I said, "...You know that place on Astor Place? Where you can get, like, twenty shots for like, five dollars?"
(I've always had an overactive imagination.)
"Um, I think so," Joe said, carefully (as he says most things). "I've seen this place on Astor Place where you can get five shots for ten dollars. Are we thinking of the same place?"
"Probably not," I insisted. "I don't think so."
"Like, it's really sketchy-looking?" Joe pressed on. "Really, really sketchy-looking?"
"It's like, next to a pizza place?" I said. "Or it is a pizza place? Or it's next to like some sort of fast food? Dark exterior? Huge banner?"
"I think we're thinking of the same place," said Joe.
We were.
Continental's website gives you the "Top 10 Reasons to Drink at Continental," of which my three favorite are: What happens at Continental - stays at Continental, Nothing rhymes with Continental, and Iggy Pop drank here. "Do you think," I asked Joe, as we walked up from a Chinatown dinner toward Astor Place, "that we might be the first people ever to go there on purpose?"
"Ha. You mean, like, instead of stumbling into it?" Joe said. After a few moments of reflection, he said, "Yeah -- we could actually be the first people to make plans and like, go out of our way to go there."
We were silent.
"It's for our quest, though," he said.
I nodded, resolutely. Every one of our friends whom we had told of our intentions had shrieked with stunned laughter upon realizing just which place we were talking about. "The one on Astor Place?" they'd said. "The really sketchy one? Have fun!"
We were to meet our valiant friend M.B. there at 9:30, and so we killed some time in the St. Marks Bookshop, and then got some $4 beer at the bar across St. Marks from Continental ("$4 is cheap," said Joe, "but definitely not cheap enough.") Finally, when the time came, we walked over.
There was, of all things, a bouncer at the door. We presented our I.D.s and entered the bar, which was very, very dark. Very dark. The only light came from a jukebox on one side of the room, in front of which there seemed to be a perpetual small crowd. No matter who it was, they were always having fun. We grabbed a table (it was a very wobbly table), sat down, and waited for our waitress.
"Hi, what can I get you guys?" she asked.
"Uh, outside it says '$10 for 5 shots of anything'?" Joe ventured. When she nodded, he said, "Is that just like, any kind of liquor?" She nodded again, and he said, "I'd like five shots of rum, please."
"Whiskey," I said.
"Vodka," said M.B.
To me, she said, "Is Jack Daniels okay?"
Having expected a much, much worse brand of whiskey, it took me a few moments before I stammered, "Uh -- uh, yes, yeah!"
"Bacardi?" she said to Joe. He nodded. "Absolut?" she said to M.B.
"Yes, please," he said.
She left. I said, "Those are much better choices than I was expecting."
The shots came. They looked like this:
We drank all of our shots. We ordered another five, which we split three ways (Joe and M.B. had two each; I had one). We talked earnestly and passionately about healthcare and teachers' salaries. Next to us, jukebox-users came and went, always singing loudly. At one point, I excused myself to use the bathroom, only to find that I couldn't figure out how the sink worked! I stared in the mirror, my hands full of soap. I examined the faucet, searching for a button. I waved my hands everywhere in the sinkbowl, hoping to activate some motion sensor. Nothing!
Maybe the sink was broken! I stumbled out of the women's bathroom, and pushed my way into the men's. No water, there, either! I would have to have soapy hands. I would have to have soapy hands forever! I contemplated my fate, sighed, left the men's bathroom, and then decided to give the women's bathroom one last shot -- and, somehow, it worked! I put my hands into the sink, and water poured out! Hands cleansed and lightly-perfumed, I cheerfully headed back upstairs.
We left drunk and happy (the Pixies were playing), and went to go get some food: DIY froyo (bad idea: mine was very, very lopsided, and my toppings were completely arbitrary) and fancy fries. I would highly recommend Continental: this place will get you drunk so cheaply, and off of decent liquor! I suppose the ambiance is terrible, which sort of begs the question, Why wouldn't you just sit at home and drink your own Jack?, but if you're with a group of people, and need to quickly and cheaply get drunk, Continental is perfect.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
The Gin Mill
If it had been up to me, I would have never gone to a bar named The Gin Mill. The name brings to mind a group of wealthy, classy writers sipping gin during the 1920's, discussing who would ravish whom (both intellectually and physically) on that particular night. And, while that all sounds highly enjoyable and I do hope to sip and ravish to such an extent at one point in my life, I simply do not have the money to spend on high-quality gin, for I am broke, and so are the readers of this blog.
Yet I was forced to go, for my dear friend Gavin was visiting from New Orleans and this was my one opportunity to see him. So I wrote the above paragraph on a piece of paper - prepared to read it loudly as part of a great protest speech that would lead to The Gin Mill losing all its customers - and I departed for the Upper West Side brooding with skepticism.
Yet, my dear readers, my skepticism was eventually replaced with hope, and that hope was eventually replaced with spiritual fulfillment, because I came to discover that The Gin Mill is, in actuality, a haven for getting drunk cheaply. This bar has great deals throughout the week (like most bars, especially Mon.-Thurs.), and it was offering cheap pitchers the night we were there. As far as I could see, no one was actually drinking gin. On the contrary, shots were available for only three dollars.
My friends and I had an excellent time, and Gavin confirmed that he has started a wonderful life in New Orleans with his girlfriend. If the Gin Mill had been expensive, I would have been far too upset to appreciate this, but instead I felt great joy for Gavin and his adventures.
If you are a beer pong enthusiast, I would highly recommend The Gin Mill on a Monday night. ALL beer on Monday is half-price. The beer is cheap, beer pong tables are out, cups and balls are readily available (for free), and it is relatively easy to get on a table with your friends. The way the alcohol flows is reminiscent of Spanky and Darla's, which I recently reviewed, although Spanky Danky's perhaps has waitresses more readily available to give away free shots. The Gin Mill, on the other hand, does have an excellent atmosphere: kind of dark, just the right amount of crowded, with the feel of a laid back but fun college party. To summarize, with its 7.50 pitchers, The Gin Mill is a damn fun place that can get you drunk well within the 20-dollar zone, especially early on in the week.
PS It is also worth noting that The Gin Mill has a bunch of sister-bars located around the city, which are also probably awesome, and these can be found here.
PPS Quick run-down on the key deals:
Monday: 1/2 price beer and three-dollar shots
Tuesday: Crazy cheap drinks for ladies
Wednesday: 1/2 price pitchers, 1/2 price shots
Thursday: 1/2 price with student ID (I have no idea whether they check expiration dates...)
Yet I was forced to go, for my dear friend Gavin was visiting from New Orleans and this was my one opportunity to see him. So I wrote the above paragraph on a piece of paper - prepared to read it loudly as part of a great protest speech that would lead to The Gin Mill losing all its customers - and I departed for the Upper West Side brooding with skepticism.
Yet, my dear readers, my skepticism was eventually replaced with hope, and that hope was eventually replaced with spiritual fulfillment, because I came to discover that The Gin Mill is, in actuality, a haven for getting drunk cheaply. This bar has great deals throughout the week (like most bars, especially Mon.-Thurs.), and it was offering cheap pitchers the night we were there. As far as I could see, no one was actually drinking gin. On the contrary, shots were available for only three dollars.
My friends and I had an excellent time, and Gavin confirmed that he has started a wonderful life in New Orleans with his girlfriend. If the Gin Mill had been expensive, I would have been far too upset to appreciate this, but instead I felt great joy for Gavin and his adventures.
If you are a beer pong enthusiast, I would highly recommend The Gin Mill on a Monday night. ALL beer on Monday is half-price. The beer is cheap, beer pong tables are out, cups and balls are readily available (for free), and it is relatively easy to get on a table with your friends. The way the alcohol flows is reminiscent of Spanky and Darla's, which I recently reviewed, although Spanky Danky's perhaps has waitresses more readily available to give away free shots. The Gin Mill, on the other hand, does have an excellent atmosphere: kind of dark, just the right amount of crowded, with the feel of a laid back but fun college party. To summarize, with its 7.50 pitchers, The Gin Mill is a damn fun place that can get you drunk well within the 20-dollar zone, especially early on in the week.
PS It is also worth noting that The Gin Mill has a bunch of sister-bars located around the city, which are also probably awesome, and these can be found here.
PPS Quick run-down on the key deals:
Monday: 1/2 price beer and three-dollar shots
Tuesday: Crazy cheap drinks for ladies
Wednesday: 1/2 price pitchers, 1/2 price shots
Thursday: 1/2 price with student ID (I have no idea whether they check expiration dates...)
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Strong Place [Guest Post!]
This blog does not place
a premium on alcohol quality. Quantity, quantity, quantity, Joe and Maia
decided, is the name of the game. It was an intrepid decision that has left the
entire blogosphere wet with excitement. I couldn’t help wondering though, what
if you could have both? What if you could marry the great deals that Joe and
Maia have found all over the city with some of the best beer in the world? Is
it even possible? Well loyal readers wondering who the hell I am, I have an
answer for you—at Strong Place in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, anything is possible.
Close to both the Bergen
and Carroll Street stops on the F, this bar/restaurant is on the upscale side
and can get pretty pricey. At happy hour though, which lasts from 4-7 Monday
through Thursday, pints of anything on their beer list will run you just $2.50.
As someone who has routinely paid more than that for PBR, this deal seemed too
good to be true. When I asked my waitress if this was for real, she said “yeah,
it’s pretty fucking great.” That was all I needed to hear.
My two good friends and I set up shop at a table in the backyard, though there were plenty of open booths inside. Seats at the bar itself were packed with Brooklynites well acquainted with the magic that is happy hour at Strong Place. We each drank six delicious pints from around the country and we still hadn’t exhausted Strong Place’s entire beer list, which sits at an impressive 24 different beers.
Twenty dollars will get you eight beers, but I was drunk after six. Keep in mind that we’re not talking about watered down brunch mimosas or 4.7% ABV PBR here. These are serious beers, usually with about 50% more alcohol than your standard cheap happy hour fare. If you factor in a hot post-work subway ride and haven’t eaten anything since lunch, eight beers from Strong Place will almost certainly get you drunk for $20. If you feel like classing it up a little bit but still don’t want to spend a fortune, Strong Place will treat you well.
- Greg Dorris, Guest Contributor
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Hop Devil Grill - $20
On the most recent Sunday, Maia and I reunited after three intolerably brunchless weeks.
It was a sunny morning and we were back in the East Village, home to our now legendary brunch at the Sunburnt Cow, where a bunch of angelic Australians allowed us to drink mimosas for - I am pretty sure - three days straight. We had not seen each other for so long and we had so much to tell each other! I had been to England, a world full of queens and grandparents, and she had been to Philadelphia, an enchanting city full of Liberty Bells and boyfriends. We sat down at our new brunch home, Hop Devil Grill, with the excitement of two friends returning to their favorite past time at long last: drinking unyielding mimosas.
The first thing we noticed walking in was that the place was quiet, with nearly all the tables empty. If you are looking for a raucous Sunday brunch party in this neighborhood, The Sunburnt Cow is definitely the place to go. That being said, if you are looking for a more relaxing boozy brunch, Hop Devil may be ideal. The waitress was very nice...she even offered Maia a sangria WHILE she was drinking her mimosa! Two drinks at once, incredible!! Maia did not accept that offer, which, looking back, is unspeakably tragic, but the fact that the waitress offered at all is notable. Refills were pretty good, but perhaps could have been a little quicker.
Hop Devil does stand out for its excellent variety of drinking options. I personally had been waiting for a place with sangria, and Hop Devil had red AND white sangria. Yet even more impressive was the pretty damn good selection of beers you could order with the brunch. Yo ALSO this place has one-dollar PBR's, so you could get hammered just going the PBR route. Now that I'm thinking about it, 20 PBR's with no food at all is probably the most bad ass Sunday brunch ever conceived, and if any of you decide to do that, please write a guest post about your experience immediately after. But probably eat some food or that would be dangerous.
Anyway, it must be said that the drinks are not the strongest here, and that could partly explain why everyone seems to be going to The Sunburnt Cow instead. Moreover, there was no option, unlike the Sunburnt Cow, to sit at the bar after our 90 minutes were up and continue to receive unending mimosas. This place will certainly get you tipsy, but perhaps not drunk. Although Maia got drunk! Or so she said, I have seen Maia realllly drunk and she was definitely not that drunk.
Maia's note: Although I do agree with Joe's assessment of Hop Devil (obviously; always) I am willing to put out there that I had had a stomach virus two days before, and so perhaps my drinking was not as speedy as it should have been? (Joe's right, I think I didn't feel drunk, I just felt sick.) Either way, though, it was ridiculously easy to get drunk at MexiBBQ and The Sunburnt Cow, but you kind of had to work to get drunk here. The mimosas came in tiny, tiny flutes!!!! Like, champagne flutes!!!!! It is awesome that they offer unlimited craft beer as one of their AYCD options, but honestly, you do have to work really, really hard to get drunk off of that, too -- it's dark and heavy and maybe not what you want for brunch.
It was a sunny morning and we were back in the East Village, home to our now legendary brunch at the Sunburnt Cow, where a bunch of angelic Australians allowed us to drink mimosas for - I am pretty sure - three days straight. We had not seen each other for so long and we had so much to tell each other! I had been to England, a world full of queens and grandparents, and she had been to Philadelphia, an enchanting city full of Liberty Bells and boyfriends. We sat down at our new brunch home, Hop Devil Grill, with the excitement of two friends returning to their favorite past time at long last: drinking unyielding mimosas.
The first thing we noticed walking in was that the place was quiet, with nearly all the tables empty. If you are looking for a raucous Sunday brunch party in this neighborhood, The Sunburnt Cow is definitely the place to go. That being said, if you are looking for a more relaxing boozy brunch, Hop Devil may be ideal. The waitress was very nice...she even offered Maia a sangria WHILE she was drinking her mimosa! Two drinks at once, incredible!! Maia did not accept that offer, which, looking back, is unspeakably tragic, but the fact that the waitress offered at all is notable. Refills were pretty good, but perhaps could have been a little quicker.
Hop Devil does stand out for its excellent variety of drinking options. I personally had been waiting for a place with sangria, and Hop Devil had red AND white sangria. Yet even more impressive was the pretty damn good selection of beers you could order with the brunch. Yo ALSO this place has one-dollar PBR's, so you could get hammered just going the PBR route. Now that I'm thinking about it, 20 PBR's with no food at all is probably the most bad ass Sunday brunch ever conceived, and if any of you decide to do that, please write a guest post about your experience immediately after. But probably eat some food or that would be dangerous.
Anyway, it must be said that the drinks are not the strongest here, and that could partly explain why everyone seems to be going to The Sunburnt Cow instead. Moreover, there was no option, unlike the Sunburnt Cow, to sit at the bar after our 90 minutes were up and continue to receive unending mimosas. This place will certainly get you tipsy, but perhaps not drunk. Although Maia got drunk! Or so she said, I have seen Maia realllly drunk and she was definitely not that drunk.
Maia's note: Although I do agree with Joe's assessment of Hop Devil (obviously; always) I am willing to put out there that I had had a stomach virus two days before, and so perhaps my drinking was not as speedy as it should have been? (Joe's right, I think I didn't feel drunk, I just felt sick.) Either way, though, it was ridiculously easy to get drunk at MexiBBQ and The Sunburnt Cow, but you kind of had to work to get drunk here. The mimosas came in tiny, tiny flutes!!!! Like, champagne flutes!!!!! It is awesome that they offer unlimited craft beer as one of their AYCD options, but honestly, you do have to work really, really hard to get drunk off of that, too -- it's dark and heavy and maybe not what you want for brunch.
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