A trip to Union Square for alligator usually means one of two things:
Shoes or wallets.
But if you’re hungry, we’ve unearthed another option: po’boys...
Introducing Hops & Hominy, a cocktail-happy, down-home hideaway dishing out fried alligator, chicken and cornbread in equal parts, opening Monday at the end of a little alley off of Grant.
Think of this hidden lair as your sanctuary when you’re deep in Union Square and in need of multiple rounds of Old Fashioneds and plates of hearty Southern fare on the double.
Actually, the entire experience feels clandestine from the outset (turns out the space was once a speakeasy and brothel). Since cars can’t go down this sidewalk alley, you’ll have to saunter down Grant until you see a sign for Tillman, turn and head to the farthest end of the alley.
Once you slip inside, you’ll find a modern take on an old plantation—with steel beams acting as opulent columns and a reclaimed roller-skating rink as the hardwood floor. Turn on your best Southern charm and lead your companion toward one of the tables (made of reclaimed redwood from old pinot noir tanks).
You could pass over the fried chicken and alligator po’boys for something less battered and fried, like the house-smoked brisket, rabbit tortellini or daily crudo.
If you prefer drinking your bacon, they’re infusing bourbon with bacon as we speak. So you’ll be in good hands in a week or two.
Good, bacon-y hands.
Shoes or wallets.
But if you’re hungry, we’ve unearthed another option: po’boys...
Introducing Hops & Hominy, a cocktail-happy, down-home hideaway dishing out fried alligator, chicken and cornbread in equal parts, opening Monday at the end of a little alley off of Grant.
Think of this hidden lair as your sanctuary when you’re deep in Union Square and in need of multiple rounds of Old Fashioneds and plates of hearty Southern fare on the double.
Actually, the entire experience feels clandestine from the outset (turns out the space was once a speakeasy and brothel). Since cars can’t go down this sidewalk alley, you’ll have to saunter down Grant until you see a sign for Tillman, turn and head to the farthest end of the alley.
Once you slip inside, you’ll find a modern take on an old plantation—with steel beams acting as opulent columns and a reclaimed roller-skating rink as the hardwood floor. Turn on your best Southern charm and lead your companion toward one of the tables (made of reclaimed redwood from old pinot noir tanks).
You could pass over the fried chicken and alligator po’boys for something less battered and fried, like the house-smoked brisket, rabbit tortellini or daily crudo.
If you prefer drinking your bacon, they’re infusing bourbon with bacon as we speak. So you’ll be in good hands in a week or two.
Good, bacon-y hands.
