Sir Hugo Drax from Moonraker.
Ed Rooney from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
Moby-Dick from Moby-Dick.
Places that bring you piping-hot pastrami sandwiches and barrel-aged gin.
All great villains.
Especially that last one. Apparently...
Stroke a hairless cat for Villains Wicked Heroes, a fake-bad-guy-themed sandwich spot that exists for no other reason than downing cold beers and fried-chicken-liver sandwiches at your own damn leisure, open as of today in Midtown.
Walk in and sweep your head from right to left, and you’ve basically got the gist of the place. The gist being that you’re in Gotham... had Gotham actually been a pretty friendly-looking sandwich shop. There’s a spray-painted skull above the kitchen, yellow subway tiles, red lighting and dark, shadowy figures lurking in every corner. Actually, those are probably just the servers.
Flash one of them a knowing look that says, “You. Me. Patio. Now.” Or if it’s cloudy out, go for a curved black booth inside. It’s counter-style during lunch, so step up and grab a Kingpig of Crime sandwich with rosemary-stuffed pork loin, arugula and garlic aioli. You’ll know it when you see it.
And then when you come back for dinner sometime, it’ll have more of a sit-down-and-drink-barrel-aged-gin-cocktails vibe about it. Or just go straight for the Prohibited at Turner Field. That’s Coke with peanut-infused bourbon and roasted peanut floaters.
Which, apparently, is prohibited at Turner Field.
Ed Rooney from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
Moby-Dick from Moby-Dick.
Places that bring you piping-hot pastrami sandwiches and barrel-aged gin.
All great villains.
Especially that last one. Apparently...
Stroke a hairless cat for Villains Wicked Heroes, a fake-bad-guy-themed sandwich spot that exists for no other reason than downing cold beers and fried-chicken-liver sandwiches at your own damn leisure, open as of today in Midtown.
Walk in and sweep your head from right to left, and you’ve basically got the gist of the place. The gist being that you’re in Gotham... had Gotham actually been a pretty friendly-looking sandwich shop. There’s a spray-painted skull above the kitchen, yellow subway tiles, red lighting and dark, shadowy figures lurking in every corner. Actually, those are probably just the servers.
Flash one of them a knowing look that says, “You. Me. Patio. Now.” Or if it’s cloudy out, go for a curved black booth inside. It’s counter-style during lunch, so step up and grab a Kingpig of Crime sandwich with rosemary-stuffed pork loin, arugula and garlic aioli. You’ll know it when you see it.
And then when you come back for dinner sometime, it’ll have more of a sit-down-and-drink-barrel-aged-gin-cocktails vibe about it. Or just go straight for the Prohibited at Turner Field. That’s Coke with peanut-infused bourbon and roasted peanut floaters.
Which, apparently, is prohibited at Turner Field.