vip in the city

A new Habitat

More exploration of Greenpoint’s delights… Check out the rest of the photos here.

I’d read about Brooklyn baker Sarah Magid’s gold-dusted dark chocolate Twinkie-esque cakes earlier in the week, and being highly impressionable, decided then to seek them out at the next opportunity. jan & äya, the Franklin street shop that sells these confections, turned out to be more boutique than bakery; in fact, the “Goldees” (as they’re called) were the only edible items I noticed for sale. Several sat on a cake pedestal in the shop window, looking in real life more intriguing than appetizing. (All organic, though, so at least healthier than their super-processed inspiration.) In the end, we passed on them and left the shop empty-handed.

Continuing along our way, we came upon newly opened bar, The Habitat. Greenpoint’s drinking options are somewhat more limited than those of the nearby h(e)ated Williamsburg scene, so when this spot opened on Manhattan Avenue in a space that that once housed a bodega, the locals were buzzing.

B was excited: I think he was drawn to the cool looks of the place. Behind the sleek glass-paneled façade is a rustic lodge interior, the centerpiece of which is a raised porch built against a wall dressed with exterior siding and faux windows. Quirky details abound – a German cuckoo clock, a cement-topped yellow pine bar – and most of the materials and fixtures are from salvage. Recycling at its finest.

Chef and co-owner Ashley Engmann (former Park South manager and Lotus cook) designed the small plate bar menu, which includes late night snacks of waffle fries and her specialty empanadas after 10:30PM.

The Habitat carries a dozen microbrews on tap, with an emphasis on the local. Over pints of Coney Island Lager, Brooklyn’s Sixpoint Sweet Action and Westchester’s Captain Lawrence Liquid Gold, we chatted up friendly bartender and co-owner Ty/Tai, sharing with him our recent experience at Łomżynianka and a few other neighborhood dining recommendations.

For its second day in business, things at The Habitat seemed to be off to a positive start. One thing, though: I could have done without the über-bloody No Country for Old Men broadcasting on the large flatscreen above the bar.

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Years ago, I mailed out copies of Esquire‘s fun, fascinating feature on “How to Be a Better Man” to select friends and family. The 14-page package wasn’t (and isn’t) available online, so the task involved my actually photocopying the magazine pages and slipping the sheets into stamped and addressed manila envelopes. (You can infer how earnestly I had sought to enhance/improve the men in my life back then. Let’s just say that results were… mixed.) For what it’s worth, I wasn’t the only one impressed by the piece: it went on to be nominated for a National Magazine Award in the Special Interest category.

In honor of Esquire‘s 75th anniversary, a follow-up of sorts: “The 75 Skills Every Man Should Master.” I’m putting up the link on this blog, so as to avoid flooding your mailboxes/inboxes with unsolicited advice… progress I’ve made in becoming a better woman.

Tags: bar, Esquire, Greenpoint, Habitat

Back to the ‘roots

At Grassroots Tavern tonight for SYB’s birthday celebration. CF and I headed to the East Village straight from the office and were among the first to arrive. Eventually, though, the revelers would total over 40 – all there to toast the man of the hour.

Grassroots Tavern is, not to mince words, a dive — “the only honest dive on one of Manhattan’s most gimmicky streets,” according to Time Out. Located in the basement of the landmarked Daniel LeRoy House, the bar has been around in its current incarnation since the mid-1970s, though its history as a drinking den dates to the 1940s. Cheap booze, low lighting, tin-pressed ceilings, battered wooden tables, dartboards (BYOD, though), an actual phonebooth by the front door and scary bathrooms…. the unpretentious vibe is a main reason that in 2007, Grassroots Tavern was named one of the 100 best bars in America by Esquire. There’s even a resident dog and cat prowling the grounds usually, though I didn’t see them tonight.

Worlds collided over mugs of beer, which was a fine thing… for the most part. And here, pitchers start at $9 – Bud, but still! – a price point rapidly going the way of the Noo Yawk accent. We sprung for the somewhat more upmarket Brooklyn Lager: it was a special occasion after all.

$1 baskets of popcorn were not going to tide us through this night. We weren’t nearly inebriated/college-aged enough for Mamoun’s next door, and the neighborhood’s tiny ramen joints probably wouldn’t accommodate our group of seven for dinner. We opted in the end to keep things simple by merely crossing St. Mark’s to Je’Bon — a newish noodle shop with a Thai, Japanese, Indonesian, Malaysian, and Cantonese menu. Usually I find such culinary schizophrenia suspicious, but the hour was late, and we were starving, so I was willing to make an exception here. And maybe it was the hunger, but my Pad Thai with Mixed Vegetable was surprisingly decent, and at just under $9, a bargain. I’ll remember this place for the next time I “trek through the tacky.”

Tags: bar, birthdays, East Village, Grassroots Tavern