We have a certain soft spot for old New Orleans.
Voodoo. Pirate ships. Bayou shamans. Houses of ill repute where unknowable things are known.
It's a place of dark corners and darker secrets. And we're always happy to welcome a little more of that action here...
Introducing Ninth Ward, a brand-new, old-style watering hole, opening this Saturday in the East Village for some down-home cocktailing.
Think of Ninth Ward as your new house of the rising sun: a slice of the Big Easy from a time long past, complete with dusty relics, voodoo dolls, Sazeracs, iron padlocks protecting old absinthe, crawfish, reclaimed bayou dock wood and two hitching posts outside (in case you're planning to head out on a horse this weekend).
And let us say this: Ninth Ward is dark as night: the only light leaks in from flickering candles and dim bulbs housed behind old hurricane shutters. Which means it's the perfect place to come in out of the blazing summer sun, order up a cold one and seclude yourself in one of the curtained banquettes to consult your favorite witch doctress in private.
Or step out into the ivy-ringed backyard garden—a fountain-rich space with wrought iron fleurs-de-lis, and a back-lit statue of a shrouded woman who will beckon you to return, night after night—for a crawfish boil and some fried catfish.
Just don't let her make you a doll.
Voodoo. Pirate ships. Bayou shamans. Houses of ill repute where unknowable things are known.
It's a place of dark corners and darker secrets. And we're always happy to welcome a little more of that action here...
Introducing Ninth Ward, a brand-new, old-style watering hole, opening this Saturday in the East Village for some down-home cocktailing.
Think of Ninth Ward as your new house of the rising sun: a slice of the Big Easy from a time long past, complete with dusty relics, voodoo dolls, Sazeracs, iron padlocks protecting old absinthe, crawfish, reclaimed bayou dock wood and two hitching posts outside (in case you're planning to head out on a horse this weekend).
And let us say this: Ninth Ward is dark as night: the only light leaks in from flickering candles and dim bulbs housed behind old hurricane shutters. Which means it's the perfect place to come in out of the blazing summer sun, order up a cold one and seclude yourself in one of the curtained banquettes to consult your favorite witch doctress in private.
Or step out into the ivy-ringed backyard garden—a fountain-rich space with wrought iron fleurs-de-lis, and a back-lit statue of a shrouded woman who will beckon you to return, night after night—for a crawfish boil and some fried catfish.
Just don't let her make you a doll.
