2 to 5am.
Decision time.
Option 1: press on and potentially end up doing impromptu karaoke on a helipad at the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
Option 2: call it, and head for some late-night bites.
Not really much of a choice when you consider the navy yard’s acoustics. And your lingering desire for a lamb bacon BLT at that hour.
Introducing The Highliner, an art deco, upscale diner car in Chelsea that’s poised to become the middle ground between leaving the bar and going to bed, now open.
So you’ve encountered a sudden influx of fist pumpers. And it’s become all but necessary to pull the rip cord on your evening prematurely. Retreat here: a stainless-steel, cocktail-serving, reformed greasy spoon that’s open till 5am for plates of Mussel Poutine (best enjoyed while observing the migration pattern of MePa club denizens through the big windows).
If you find the barely lit, crimson-and-black interior of this retro spot a little too dark for your liking, you (and your pistachio pancakes) can always move from an interior, wraparound counter stool to one of 80 moonlit sidewalk seats.
Unless, of course, what you really want is something a little more private. For that, there’s a secluded room in the back that’s set up to look like a boxing ring.
Finally, one more place you can wear your silk robe.
Decision time.
Option 1: press on and potentially end up doing impromptu karaoke on a helipad at the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
Option 2: call it, and head for some late-night bites.
Not really much of a choice when you consider the navy yard’s acoustics. And your lingering desire for a lamb bacon BLT at that hour.
Introducing The Highliner, an art deco, upscale diner car in Chelsea that’s poised to become the middle ground between leaving the bar and going to bed, now open.
So you’ve encountered a sudden influx of fist pumpers. And it’s become all but necessary to pull the rip cord on your evening prematurely. Retreat here: a stainless-steel, cocktail-serving, reformed greasy spoon that’s open till 5am for plates of Mussel Poutine (best enjoyed while observing the migration pattern of MePa club denizens through the big windows).
If you find the barely lit, crimson-and-black interior of this retro spot a little too dark for your liking, you (and your pistachio pancakes) can always move from an interior, wraparound counter stool to one of 80 moonlit sidewalk seats.
Unless, of course, what you really want is something a little more private. For that, there’s a secluded room in the back that’s set up to look like a boxing ring.
Finally, one more place you can wear your silk robe.
