Calendars are so predictable.
Save for the occasional leap year, or daylight savings blindside, you always know what’s coming next.
But today, for the sake of spontaneity, we thought we’d throw you a little curveball.
And schedule Oktoberfest for the ides of March.
Introducing Bierhaus, a Bavarian-style beer hall where the taps spew forth Hofbräu and the dress code is lederhosen preferred, opening next week for your post-work waltzing in Midtown East.
Approach this as if it were an authentic German biergarten, only one that’s in a Midtown attic and not at all infatuated with David Hasselhoff. Within, you’ll sit at large wooden communal tables, feast on soft pretzels with bier cheese and wash down said pretzels with golden pilsner-filled growlers the size of infants.
You’ll want to pencil this place in for a full-day commitment (two-liter beer boots are a marathon, not a sprint). Claim a seat under either the hulking triangular skylight or, weather permitting, somewhere outside on the 50-foot balcony, where you’ll drink in the sun (eventually) and engage in verbal jousts with bar patrons across the street.
When it’s time to order (or refill), you’ll flag down one of the Gretel-looking waitresses. For drink: you’ll have 24 taps of six seasonal Hofbräu varieties. For food: expect the best of the wurst. And for dessert: strudel.
But not till you clear your boot.
Save for the occasional leap year, or daylight savings blindside, you always know what’s coming next.
But today, for the sake of spontaneity, we thought we’d throw you a little curveball.
And schedule Oktoberfest for the ides of March.
Introducing Bierhaus, a Bavarian-style beer hall where the taps spew forth Hofbräu and the dress code is lederhosen preferred, opening next week for your post-work waltzing in Midtown East.
Approach this as if it were an authentic German biergarten, only one that’s in a Midtown attic and not at all infatuated with David Hasselhoff. Within, you’ll sit at large wooden communal tables, feast on soft pretzels with bier cheese and wash down said pretzels with golden pilsner-filled growlers the size of infants.
You’ll want to pencil this place in for a full-day commitment (two-liter beer boots are a marathon, not a sprint). Claim a seat under either the hulking triangular skylight or, weather permitting, somewhere outside on the 50-foot balcony, where you’ll drink in the sun (eventually) and engage in verbal jousts with bar patrons across the street.
When it’s time to order (or refill), you’ll flag down one of the Gretel-looking waitresses. For drink: you’ll have 24 taps of six seasonal Hofbräu varieties. For food: expect the best of the wurst. And for dessert: strudel.
But not till you clear your boot.
