Friends on the far Upper East Side.
You’ve got ’em. And sometimes, if the weather is fine, and you’ve got some vacation time, and everyone else is out of town, you even visit them.
This should make that easier...
Have a gander at The District, an industrial Victorian Irish church of woodland aromas, perfect pints and ambitious bar food, now open.
Let’s just go over your night here. You emerge from a cab out front. Looks lively in there. Low light, oxidized-mirror ceilings, the pervasive ambience of rich mahogany. So far, so good. Your friend’s already inside. Has been for 30 minutes. “Ah, you’re finally here,” they exclaim. “I’ve just been talking to this comely Irish lass behind the bar.”
So you make amends for your tardiness by ordering a round of SingleCut 19-33 lager, on tap and fresh from Astoria. By now you’re famished, so you grab a menu. And... whoa—diver scallops with bacon and brussels sprouts. Dry-aged New York steak with chimichurri. See: surprises, pleasant.
For your meal, slide over from the bar to one of those tall, red-leather tufted banquettes beneath the stained glass. You’ll feel like a king. Avail yourself of some Redbreast, which they’ve got. You’re starting to feel pretty comfortable here.
Just be careful. That’s how it starts.
You’ve got ’em. And sometimes, if the weather is fine, and you’ve got some vacation time, and everyone else is out of town, you even visit them.
This should make that easier...
Have a gander at The District, an industrial Victorian Irish church of woodland aromas, perfect pints and ambitious bar food, now open.
Let’s just go over your night here. You emerge from a cab out front. Looks lively in there. Low light, oxidized-mirror ceilings, the pervasive ambience of rich mahogany. So far, so good. Your friend’s already inside. Has been for 30 minutes. “Ah, you’re finally here,” they exclaim. “I’ve just been talking to this comely Irish lass behind the bar.”
So you make amends for your tardiness by ordering a round of SingleCut 19-33 lager, on tap and fresh from Astoria. By now you’re famished, so you grab a menu. And... whoa—diver scallops with bacon and brussels sprouts. Dry-aged New York steak with chimichurri. See: surprises, pleasant.
For your meal, slide over from the bar to one of those tall, red-leather tufted banquettes beneath the stained glass. You’ll feel like a king. Avail yourself of some Redbreast, which they’ve got. You’re starting to feel pretty comfortable here.
Just be careful. That’s how it starts.
