Thursday, July 21, 2011

We Must Be Superstars


So far, I’m not quite old enough to entertain any worries about the youth of the nation or the deficiencies of their character. Plenty of today’s young adults actually strike me as irritatingly great: Growing up with the Internet means they knew by age 10 what I learned last week, and a lot of them seem awfully bold and brave about asserting themselves all over everyone.
My opinion might be in the minority. Lately, the conventional wisdom is that young people think far too much of themselves—they’re coddled little zeppelins of ego in desperate need of shooting down. The cover of July’s Atlantic is emblazoned with the headline how THE CULT OF SELF-ESTEEM IS RUINING OUR KIDS; inside, quotes from psychologist Jean M. Twenge explain how we’re producing generations of feckless narcissists. Earlier this year, the online equivalent of applause greeted a study of pop lyrics from 1980 to 2007 in which a whole team of psychologists, Twenge included, claimed there’s been a rise in narcissism, self-regard, and antisocial hostility at the top of the Billboard charts: Songs have moved from we and us to me and I, and come over all ornery in the process. Surprised? New York Times columnist David Brooks, for one, already saw that as self-evident: “It’s nice,” he wrote, “to have somebody rigorously confirm an impression many of us have formed.”
“Rigorously” is a stretch. The study consists of little more than running ten lyrics per year through a word-counting computer program, which I can’t imagine taking longer than an afternoon. The study’s authors aren’t much interested in music, either: They’re merely using it as collateral evidence of some decades-long cultural slide into self-­absorption. Books to their names include The Narcissism Epidemic and Generation Me: Why Today’s Young Americans Are More Confident, Assertive, Entitled—and More Miserable Than Ever Before. As that subtitle suggests, these academics fret about a tidal wave of narcissism because they’re convinced it’s bad for the narcissists, leaving them ill-equipped to deal with the world. “They come off as confident,” the study’s co-author, C. Nathan DeWall, told NPR, “but if you insult or provoke them in any way, it sort of breaks their bubble, and they’re very fragile people.” That same week, bubble enthusiast Lady Gaga—who once said, “I want people to walk around delusional about how great they can be”—burst into tears when a journalist asked her about her recent single’s resemblance to a Madonna song.
Most of narcissism’s critics, however, do not evince much concern for its sufferers, whom they regard with more Schadenfreude than pity. They just find all this expression of ego to be grating, gauche, and borderline immoral—like wearing tights as pants, talking during movies, or being ­Snooki. This is our new cultural mini-­monster, somewhere down the scale from terrorists and pedophiles, in the general vicinity of Charlie Sheen and those people who go nuts during American Idol auditions: the Raging ­Narcissist. Press coverage of that music study conveys the sense that a song like Keri Hilson’s “Pretty Girl Rock”—whose refrain runs, “Don’t hate me cause I’m beautiful”—is a substantial threat to the nation’s soul.
The results of the study were announced at a funny moment: right amid a string of hit singles about self-esteem, all operating on the premise that the listener could stand to have more of it. Katy Perry’s “Firework” reassures you that “you don’t have to feel like a waste of space” and exhorts you to “show them what you’re worth.” Pink commands: “Don’t you ever ever feel like you’re less than fuckin’ perfect.” Lady Gaga, Warholian per usual: “We are all born superstars.” Ke$ha: “We’re superstars / We are who we are.”
How you feel about those sentiments probably depends on a few things (including whether you’re the type of person who considers pop music vapid on its face), but it’ll surely end with whom you imagine listening to the songs: the vulnerable souls they’re addressed to, (1) or the preening egotists currently terrifying research psychologists.

Anthony Mackie Will Personally Serve You a Drink at His New Bar, Opening This Week


When we heard that Anthony Mackie — star of movies like The Hurt Locker and The Adjustment Bureau — was planning to open his own bar, we thought about all of the other mediocre, nightclubby, celebrity-owned restaurants we go out of our way to avoid. But when we heard Mackie was planning to open NoBar on Nostrand Avenue in Bed-Stuy (as opposed to, say, the Meatpacking District), our interest was piqued. When we heard that he'd be serving as a chef and tending bar himself, we decided we had to get him on the phone. Straight off a plane from a film festival in Italy, Mackie spoke with Grub Street about NoBar, his devotion to Brooklyn, trading in red carpets for dirty dishes, and his newfound love of pastrami.
You were raised in New Orleans, coming from Rome, and living in Brooklyn — who has the best food?
In Italy, I was expecting more from the food. I’m actually kinda disappointed. The film festival people had us go to all these movie-star type places and that wasn’t too impressive. They really like the buffet over there, don't they? The unpretentious places in the villages are probably better, but they wanted to keep it all fancy. You can't compare anything to New Orleans, so I'm going to go with Brooklyn for sure. Brooklyn is the best for everything. Once the dollar went down, Manhattan became Europe’s playground, so now all my friends hang in Brooklyn.


Which means they will no doubt be hanging at NoBar.
That’s right! It’s a cool, cheap neighborhood hang. I don’t want to see my friends trying to take a girl out, spending 100 bucks in some trendy place, and walking away hungry. This is the opposite of those multimillion dollar, basement nightclubs, filled with “who’s who” type places. I hate those!


What makes your place so different from that?
For one, I’m the bartender and I’m the chef. I’m going to be bartending every night for the next week and a half, and then ongoing from there. I would make Tom Cruise very jealous. Cocktail, Top Gun, all those early movies from when he was a cool dude, he inspired me! And in the kitchen, it’s 100 percent my recipes. I fucking love my food. Like, for my barbecue meatballs in pita-pockets, I do a blend of meat. I don’t just do ground beef or ground turkey, and it’s my own homemade barbecue sauce with honey, and other things I won’t tell you. Oh, and yeah, it’s five bucks.


Sounds like you’re more into the grind of the food and drink business than the glamor of Hollywood these days.
I never thought of acting as my only goal or career. Acting is a business where your future is dictated to you by people you don’t even know. With the bar, I can have relationships with people who I’m doing business with. That’s the whole thing. It all has to do with me being a people person. I love hearing crazy shit. I always wanted to be a bartender but I knew that if I worked for someone else, I’d get fired.
Besides getting a drink made by you, what else is going on at NoBar?
We have “Red Bean Delight” on Monday nights; that’s a New Orleans thing. Also, “Hump Day Wednesday.” On Tuesday, you can order any drink on the menu as a shot, and then girls drink free on Thursday. That kind of thing. We have local artists on the walls, photography, and digital art. And I’m trying to do some play-reading series, too. Nelson George, who directed Life Support on HBO is going to do a reading.


What will you be drinking behind the bar?
I’m a whiskey man. Me and Jack Daniels have a long relationship with each other, with a lot of ups and downs. Eventually, our goal is to have all Brooklyn beers at the bar, too, which I’d really like to see.


Is it true you’re already looking into a second place?
I’m thinking about it. I don’t want to overextend ... not trying to be like the American Apparel of bars. I love my neighborhood. I want to keep adding to it. A prohibition speakeasy would be the next plan.


Tell us your favorite Brooklyn spots?
Franklin Park is a little beer garden that’s cool. Brooklyn Social for a drink, or just to chill. Black Swan is good. I eat a lot of local food. There’s a brisket house down the street, David’s Brisket House Deli, if you like corned beef and that kind of thing. It’s off the wall. I went to Katz’s with a group of friends, and brought them a sandwich from Dave’s. I was like, “Gotta up y’all game … we got this on lock over at Dave’s.” Even the guy at Katz’s was like, "Oh, yeah.” I just starting eating … um … the best sandwich meat I’ve ever had … ohhh, what’s it called …


Pastrami?
Pastrami! Yes! I just discovered it. I’m from New Orleans, we don’t have that there! You love it, too?


I’m a Jew from New York. Of course I love it.
Well, I guess I’m a Jew from New Orleans now because, damn!

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Know What I Could Go for Right Now?

Bloody Mary

The Rum House


228 W. 47th St., nr. Broadway; 646-490-6924

The revived Times Square dive pours not one but six properly spicy Bloodies on weekends from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Best among them: the Andrew Jackson, made with unaged white whiskey and smoked paprika, and garnished with salami ($14).
 
 

Martinz 

Il Matto

281 Church St., at White St. 212-226-1607

Mixologist Christina Bini gives her Martinis an avant-garde spin at this quirky Italian restaurant, with the particularly aromatic Maltese featuring red bell pepper, ginger-infused vodka, and pepperoncino ($14). 

Mary Queen of Scots

115 Allen St., nr. Delancey St. 212-460-0915

Alongside the parade of whiskey drinks devised by Marcine Franckowiak and Jay Zimmerman (the Breslin) is this outstanding Sazerac, which returns to its 1830s roots by subbing out rye for Cognac, and balancing the herbaceous Herbsaint with a muddled sugar cube ($13).
 
 

Dark and Stormy

El Cobre

95 Ave. A, nr. 6th St. 212-614-6818

The Cuban restaurant in the Cienfuegos compound boldly dispenses its Stormies out of a tap. Mayur Subbarao whips up a large batch with ginger syrup, fresh lime, and Gosling’s rum, then kegs it, pressurizes it, and pours it on draught ($14).
 
 

Manhattan

 Fedora

239 W. 4th St., nr. Charles St.; 646-449-9336

Made with spicy, 100-proof Rittenhouse rye, the Boothby Manhattan concocted by Joseph Leonard vet Brian Bartels gets gussied up with a splash of sparkling wine ($12).
 
 

Sloe-Gin Fizz

The Commodore

366 Metropolitan Ave., at Havemeyer St., Williamsburg; 718-218-7632

Don’t let the pinkish color fool you: The sloe-gin fizz tastes surprisingly complex, with fresh lemon juice, soda water, a spoonful of simple syrup, and cucumber-scented Hendrick’s gin ($7).
 
 

Negroni

 The John Dory Oyster Bar

1196 Broadway, at 29th St. 212-792-9000

The best of Sasha Petraske’s dozen-plus fish-friendly libations doesn’t lean on citrus or gin. It’s a bubbly negroni sbagliato (“wrong” in Italian) incorporating Prosecco alongside Campari and sweet vermouth ($12).
 
 

Rum Punch

 
 
 
The Drink

228 Manhattan Ave., nr. Grand St., Williamsburg 718-782-8463

The finest of the nautical dive’s rotating communal punches is the Crusade, which mingles Old Monk Indian rum with citric Earl Grey tea and aromatics such as orange peel, allspice, and peppermint ($43, serves ten).

The Groove Finder

Nine places to shake your tail (or at least sway it) to your genre of choice.
Illustrations by Mark Nerys

The Ramones Gone Dub
Veronica People’s Club

Typically a go-to for sets curated by Stereogum writers and famous-person D.J.’s (Jens Lekman, D.J. Teen Wolf), Veronica’s hosts the monthly Dub Dub Nights party every first Monday, blaring dub remixes of familiar rock songs like “Gimme Shelter” and “Heart-Shaped Box.” Expect to bop, fuel up with nightlong drink specials, and bop some more (105 Franklin St., nr. Greenpoint Ave., Greenpoint; 718-349-2901).






“Sweater Song” Sing-Along
Commonwealth

The music is highly personal here, with a jukebox packed with owner Ray Gish’s own mix CDs. As the floor fills up, Dark and Stormy–buzzed devotees of recentish rock join in barwide sing-alongs to Weezer, the Shins, Death Cab, or early Kings of Leon. While there’s ample room for dancing, the Park Slope crowd sometimes musters only an enthusiastic sway (497 Fifth Ave., at 12th St., Park Slope; 718-768-2040).






The Clash Over Karaoke
Fontana’s

On Wednesdays, the bravest of punk-rock fans step on stage, grab the mike, and get their scream on. While this red-boothed Chinatown venue has a rock-and-roll-cool aesthetic, the audience is varied (stockbrokers, artists, teachers) and welcoming to even the most wince-inducing performers among them (105 Eldridge St., nr. Broome St.; 212-334-6740).






Slayer, Louder, Please
Duff’s

For those in the mood for a headbanger’s ball, Duff’s hard-rocking jukebox slices through all the old favorites, from Sabbath to Slayer. The sensory overload continues behind the bar, where you’ll find cheap beer, baby skulls, and comely tattooed ladies who’ll lubricate you to the point of belting out “Master of Puppets” (168 Marcy Ave., nr. S. 5th St., Williamsburg; 718-599-2092).






Debbie Harry and Friends
Mulberry Project

The latest in the new wave of bespoke-cocktail dens is also the best for New Wave rock and roll: Fittingly, the door is half-hidden, the drinks strong, and the space small but not too cramped for a good dance party. Plus, the D.J. booth,which spins a range from the Cars to Blondie, sometimes takes requests—ensuring that your playlist is as custom as your cocktail (149 Mulberry St., nr. Grand St.; 646-448-4536).






Salt-n-Pepa-n-a-Moose-Head
Bedlam

In a bar where there’s always a taxidermied moose head on the wall and occasionally Andy Cohen on the turntables, you can catch the weekly Aaliyah Night, pumping out R&B hits of the nineties to a grind-y crowd of fashion and business types who get close—very close. If you don’t want to “Push It” with a sweaty stranger or two, this is not the Friday-night bar for you (40 Ave. C, nr. 4th St.; 212-228-1049).






Slow-Burning Coltrane
Mono+Mono

Though the headliner of this restaurant is technically Korean chicken, its 30,000-album-strong wall of jazzy vinyl, as well as its working piano/dining table, is the primary draw. As you sip your soju-based cocktail, choose an album from the collection to be chauffeured along the ceiling track to the D.J. and then wafted through the speakers (116 E. 4th St., nr. First Ave.; 212-466-6660).






Bluegrass in a Sea Shanty
Sunny’s

Banjo-loving locals and fans from all over God’s creation trek to Sunny’s for live bluegrass sessions, featuring Earl Scruggs covers and original tunes. Resembling the inside of a ship, the old longshoremen’s haunt books bands on Wednesdays and Fridays but holds an especially boisterous jamboree on Saturday nights (253 Conover St., nr. Beard St., Red Hook; 718-625-8211).






Johnny Cash’s Brethren
Joe’s Bar

An East Village anomaly, this low-key respite for simple, hard-livin’ folk serves cheap drinks and has a jukebox full of country music—Patsy Cline, Steve Earle, and, of course, Mr. Cash. But fancy-footers be warned: This is no honky-tonk. While patrons are open to whiskey-sipping conversation, busting a move maxes out at light toe-tapping here (520 E. 6th St., nr. Ave. B; no phone).



Friday, July 15, 2011

Top-Shelf Masters

Grub Street editor Alan Sytsma has been sharpening his critical knives as a guest judge this season on Bravo’s Top Chef Masters (Wednesdays at 10 p.m.), so we asked him to give the same treatment to the city’s newest bespoke-cocktail bars. He placed identical orders for three custom cocktails at Mulberry Project, Forty Four at Royalton, Weather Up Tribeca, the Lambs Club, and Rum House, then let the bartenders go to work. Here, the winners in the gin-, rum-, and whiskey-cocktail categories.

Order No. 1: “Something ginny and floral like a martini, but not girlie.”
Winner: Weather Up Tribeca, 159 Duane St., nr. W. Broadway; 212-766-3202
“They didn’t win any originality points for their take on the Aviation ($14), a classic cocktail with gin, lemon juice, maraschino, and crème de violette. But this was still an excellently made drink, with just enough maraschino—which, in the wrong hands, can make a cocktail taste like cough syrup—to soften the tartness of the lemon juice. ”

Order No. 2: “Something with rum. Maybe a little tiki-ish, but not too sugary.”
Winner: Mulberry Project, 149 Mulberry St., nr. Grand St.; 646-448-4536
“All the drinks here were similar—fresh produce mixed with a spirit, served on the rocks—but it’s easy to look past the sameness when the results are as interesting as the grape-and-Thai-chile daiquiri ($14). The bartender used Captain Morgan, of all things, as the base, but its strong vanilla taste actually rounded out the spicy, fruity notes of the drink. Surprisingly outstanding.”

Order No. 3: “A whiskey drink that’s refreshing and a little more involved than a bourbon smash or a mint julep.”
Winner: Rum House, 228 W. 47th St., nr. Broadway; 646-490-6924
“Whoa! The other bars just trotted out variations on whiskey sours, but here I was handed a bourbon muddled with orange wedges and cherries, Ramazzotti amaro, Angostura bitters, and grated cinnamon and orange zest ($12). The Ramazzotti was really nicely balanced with the drink’s sweetness. The bitter herbiness of the whole thing prevented the cinnamon from taking the cocktail into winter-drink territory. Right on the verge of flavor overload, but in a good way.






Thursday, July 14, 2011

Post-Hipster Brooklyn

The Bar Without a Name

597 Manhattan Ave., nr. Driggs Ave., Williamsburg; no phone
There’s not much that has yet to be done barwise in Williamsburg. The solution for Matchless co-owner Lawrence Hyland and Bar partner Jessica Lee Wertz has been to create a sort of anti-bar: no sign, no name (though it has been affectionately dubbed “Woodpussy” by certain locals, in part owing to the heavily wooden interior, and to the abundance of attractive women), benches for seats, burlap on the walls. Unlike at many of its neighbors, though, the crowd feels distinctly adult, with PBR graduates sipping their margarita or martini without caring quite so much about being seen doing it.



Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Wicked


We had long hoped this day wouldn't come, but here we are - Universal is finally getting the pieces together on a movie version of "Wicked," the intolerable hit Broadway musical your faux-edgy little sister just looooooves. Producer Marc Platt, the musical's book writer Winnie Holzman and songwriter Stephen Schwartz have begun meeting with and/or seeing early interest from a list of potential directors which currently includes James Mangold, Rob Marshall, JJ Abrams and Ryan Murphy.
"Wicked," for those of you lucky enough to avoid this particular piece of pop art claptrap, is a musical spinoff from "The Wizard Of Oz," based on the novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire, that re-imagines the story of the Wicked Witch as a twee high school narrative where she's wrongly demonized by the popular girl, Glinda the Good Witch. The musical, a big-time Broadway grosser, is considered responsible for helping Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenoweth break into the mainstream. Thanks for that, guys.

This project wouldn't work for ANY of these filmmakers, as it's an excruciating borderline-fan-fictiony waste of time, so if we had to choose, we'd pick Harold Pleasedon'tmakethismovie or Betty Burnthescriptwithtribalfire. But we're not making the decisions over at Universal. The contenders please!

James Mangold: Somebody needs a hit. Mangold, a genre hop-scotcher, just got burned hitching his wagon to Tom Cruise, with "Knight And Day" falling short of even "modest word-of-mouth" hit status with a massive budget in a down summer. He's worked in horror ("Identity"), westerns ("3:10 To Yuma"), crime films ("Copland") and, most importantly, quasi-musicals ("Walk The Line") so he would be a reliable hire for this sort of work. Mangold would never be an offensive choice for this type of film, but he certainly wouldn't be lighting asses on fire.

Rob Marshall: Apparently the go-to guy for people who like musicals without actually seeing them. As a film director, Marshall is barely one-for-three: "Chicago" won a questionable Best Picture Oscar, but "Memoirs of a Geisha" and "Nine" were disaster-sized disasters that lost everyone involved a whole lot of money and credibility. Someone up there still likes the hoof-lover, since he's doing duty at sea for the next "Pirates of the Caribbean," but this guy proved with "Nine" that he's depressingly stage-bound and bereft of the visual imagination that allows a great movie musical to soar. He's coasting pretty much on reputation by now, as Hollywood doesn't seem to mind someone directing a bad movie in a specific genre as long as they keep making films in said genre.

JJ Abrams: Yeah, guys, this isn't going to happen. "Wicked"'s cream-of-the-crop fanbase are nerd girls (who this year's "Twilight" and "Alice In Wonderland" seem to have solidly proven are a legit fanbase), and while Abrams certainly has his share of followers from that area, he is right now moving closer to A-List directorial status. After completing "Super 8" he's moving on to pre-production on "Star Trek 2" and we don't seem him shifting from that, as it is itself a highly anticipated sequel to something fairly nerd-baity. Out of all the nerd avatar filmmakers, Abrams seems the most determined to be a mini-Spielberg, and "Wicked" is not Spielbergian at all.

Ryan Murphy: Finally, the perfect, awful choice. Murphy, known for creating the hit shows "Nip/Tuck" and "Glee" (the popularity of which no doubt gave this project a kick in the ass), is a nightmare behind the camera if his directorial debut, "Running With Scissors" is anything to go by. With "Eat Pray Love" on the way, Murphy's got an empty dance card and seems perfectly suited to the show's mix of treacly artificial melodrama, atonal music and juvenile misbehavior. Oh yeah, he does have Mark Ruffalo attached to a gestating HIV/AIDS drama "The Normal Heart," but like we just said, it's an HIV/AIDS drama; funding on that will be hard to come by so don't be surprised if it goes straight to the backburner.

If these names are anything to go by, particularly Murphy's, we'll guess execs don't mind if this movie looks like shitty, shitty TV*. And why would Hollywood stop at one bad idea when they can Xerox it? "Wicked" is not nearly the only "Oz" project still in development. There's "Oz The Great And Powerful" over at Disney,
while Drew Barrymore is tentatively attached to the Zach Helm-penned "Surrender Dorothy." Furthermore, the Polish brothers have been working on their own top secret "Oz" project, while IMDb has the details on a goofy 3D reworking of the story with luminaries like Sean Astin, Lance Henriksen and Christopher Lloyd involved.

The project is still in its early days, with more meetings still to take place in the fall when the authors of the musical come to Hollywood. It sounds like a lot of people will need to sign off on the director so don't be surprised if a decision takes a while to get made and none of these names end up doing it.




Where to drink 2011-Hudson Clearwater


Speakeasy
Hudson Clearwater
447 Hudson St., at Morton St.; 212-989-3255
Until Chumley’s, the Village’s original incognito watering hole, comes back to life, consider this your standby. Just around the corner from what falsely appears to be the front entrance, behind a green door and through a courtyard, lies a tri-level townhouse with a bevy of backdrops to choose from. The courtyard, on a pretty day, is a delightful spot for a gingery Hudson Mule ($12). On the top floor, there’s a wooden chef’s bar offering bites like lemon-cured duck leg ($13). And one floor below, the marble bar is an any-weather spot for sipping a Mayatl (mezcal, Chartreuse, pastis, rosemary, oregano, lime; $12).





Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Jersey Boys


Come on and admit it: you have, at least a few times in your life, spent time practicing your Grammy/Oscars/Tony acceptance speech in front of the mirror. You thank your parents, your sister, your agent, your significant other, and even your 7th grade drama teacher. Don’t worry – you’re not alone. The American Dream is a vision implanted in American boys and girls from the time we are very young. It trains us to fantasize about stardom, success, and fame. It keeps us up late at night dreaming about the packed theaters we will fill with fans. Jersey Boys Broadway show is the real life story of four men who made their American Dream a reality.
The Four Seasons - Frankie Valli, Bob Gaudio, Tommy DeVito, and Nick Massi - were just a bunch of punk kids from New Jersey before they hit it big in the 1960’s and became one of the most popular recording groups of all time. At the height of their fame, The Four Seasons sold 175 million records. This is their story of love, friendship, survival and success – all set to an amazing soundtrack. The Jersey Boys New York show features songs like “Big Girls Don’t Cry”, “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You”, “Oh What a Night”, and “Who Loves You”. Written by Rick Elice and the Academy Award winner Marshall Brickman, Jersey Boys is ultimately an ode to four men who used their immense talent and strength of character to make their dreams a reality.

Do you need more information about jersey boys?
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The Talent Show


Littlefield, 622 Degraw St., nr. Fourth Ave., Gowanus; 718-855-3388


The Talent Show is what happens if you round up the city’s semi-famous comedians and literary nerds (Dave Hill, Ira Glass, John Hodgman, Mike Birbiglia), hop them up on jungle juice, and ask them to perform stupid pet tricks. Held on the last Wednesday of the month, the event has the feel of a devious slumber party. Recent sightings: Eugene Mirman dressing up a rat in doll’s clothes; Hill eating seven raw jalapeños in one minute; Hodgman, during a live Truth or Dare game, confessing how much money he made last year ($3.4 million, if you must know) while fondling a snake. Plus shock collars, tequila shots, ventriloquism, duets, juggling, magic tricks, and an in-house band. It always sells out.

 

Monday, July 11, 2011

Dig Deeper-Best Soul Party



  • Dig Deeper
    Southpaw, 125 Fifth Ave., nr. Sterling Pl., Park Slope; 718-230-0238
    Soul-music fanboys D.J. Honky and Mr. Robinson named their monthly party Dig Deeper for a reason. Since 2008, they’ve been tracking down forgotten greats from the past—like James Brown’s backup singer Marva Whitney (a.k.a. “Soul Sister #1”) and the ever-suave Billy Prince of Detroit’s the Precisions—and bringing them to Park Slope’s Southpaw for what is often their first-ever solo New York City performances. The artists may look weathered (many are now in their sixties or seventies), but they’ve lost none of their performing chops, with sets that are infectious enough to break vinyl geeks out of their reverent trances. Shows are usually held the fourth Saturday of each month ($10 in advance, $15 at the door).




Five Arrested in Tammany Hall Riot Hire Lawyer, Stage Rally


Remember that riot outside of the Smif-N-Wessun show at Tammany Hall last week? Well, the five people arrested hired a lawyer, who spoke out at a rally protesting the incident yesterday on the steps of City Hall. According to DNA Info, the attorney, Kenneth Montgomery, plans to pursue a lawsuit against the NYPD over the matter, since victims are claiming police used excessive force. And, in a bizarre twist, it seems the NYPD feared Smif-N-Wessun would make another LES appearance last week: Cole Schaffer, co-owner of beleaguered Clinton Street bar Culturefix, writes in to say that "last week from Wednesday to Sunday, the police showed up at my door every evening 'to see if Smif-N-Wessun were playing,'" claiming word of a concert at Culturefix had been posted online (Schaffer denies this).


And regarding the bar's underage-drinking charges, Schaffer tells us their attorney today offered the SLA a settlement of $10,000. "It's a long shot," he writes, mentioning that if the offer is successful the bar will probably need to hold a fund-raiser to drum up the money. "This is a huge blow for us." However, there's at least one bright spot for bars in the LES vicinity: Eater brings newsthat Mars Bar will stay open another four to six weeks, rather than closing immediately. Don't bother trying to ask too many questions over there, though — word is the staff isn't too receptive to nosy types.

Cocktails in Bloom: 107 Spring Drinks


Spring is in the air, and with it comes the desire to put away the strong, heavy winter drinks we've been using to fortify ourselves in favor of brighter, lighter tipples. Lucky for us, there are plenty of bars all over New York that are more than happy to help us wet our whistles in the warmer weather. Even better: We were able to convince more than 100 bartenders to share some of their best technicolor concoctions with us.
Now, we're sure not everyone will want to make all of these drinks at home (unless you're into juicing peas and dehydrating the leftover solids, à laMomofuku Ssäm Bar's Spring Pea), but we're nothing if not completists. (Though, we should also mention that while we've edited each of the recipes to make them as easy as possible to follow, we haven't gotten the chance to test each and every one — we always get about five or six in, and then things get ... interesting.)
In any event, we've organized the drinks into their respective color categories —red, orange, yellow, green, blue, cream, and violet — so you can easily find any drink to match your mood. We've also rounded up cocktails in our Grub Street sister cities: Boston, Philly, Chicago, San Francisco, and L.A. So what are you waiting for? Click on through and plan your happy hour!

Friday, July 8, 2011

Foreign-Beer Hall

712 Third Ave., nr. 45th St.; 212-867-2337 New York’s Teutonic infatuation still runs rampant, with bratwursts and beer steins clanking everywhere from Harlem (Bier International) to Greenpoint (Spritzenhaus) to midtown, where the unimaginatively named Bierhaus trumps its competitors in authentic Bavarian-ness. By 6 p.m., the skylighted communal tables are packed with off-duty office workers hefting colossal mugs of lagers, wheat beers, and bocks, all delivered by waitresses in dirndls. To fortify your stomach while emptying two-liter glass boots, there’s fresh-baked pretzels, platters of wurst and sauerkraut, and, of course, Wiener schnitzel.




Thursday, July 7, 2011

Where to drink 2011- Surf Shack


Réunion
357 W. 44th St., nr. Ninth Ave.; 212-582-3200 
No one would confuse Hell’s Kitchen for a reef-ringed island in the Indian Ocean, but don’t tell that to the surfer owners of Réunion. The pair, Eugene Ashe and Thomas Wilson, formerly of Mas (farmhouse), have earnestly transformed a windowless basement space into an ode to the wave-blessed namesake island off the eastern coast of Africa. Their choice of location may be unconventional, but the décor (wall-mounted surfboards, colored lights, the requisite fish tank) and menu (great, icy, Mojito-like Mermaids, $10; an impressive collection of infused rums, $5 a shot; fried clams) show that their hearts, if not their GPS apps, are in the right place.